#well less of a shift and more of them being blatant about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freesia-writes · 1 year

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"If you want it, you're gonna have to come and get it from me." for rex? please 💙💙💙

Ok, let’s gooo! I was panicking trying to figure out if Rex or Reader should say the line, so I just went with what came as I was writing... I always see Rex as awkward at first, but we all know he's got some passion underneath that can be coaxed out with the right situation. ;) Hope it's a fun read! <3

Rex x GN!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Content Warnings: PG-13 drinking, threats, kissing...?

Also, this picture was in my head the whole time. ;)

It had been weeks. The 501st had been on Coruscant while their Venator was undergoing major repairs after an obnoxious ambush by the Separatists. There were only so many drills and armor inspections that could be done, so the clones found themselves at 79s more frequently than they were used to. It was a good opportunity to blow off some steam, to enjoy a change of pace from the constant horrors of war, and they were in generally good spirits. You’d been frequenting the place as well, finding it a welcome distraction from your recent break-up and mundane, dead-end job.

The boys in blue were always a good time, and you enjoyed the occasional chat with a few of them, but there was always one who tended to keep to himself, chatting with his fellow captains and other squad members in various corners of the bar. You’d made eye contact a few times, finding yourself oddly drawn to him, but he’d been quick to avert his gaze with a sheepish look. It seemed a stark contrast to what you’d heard about him as a fearless yet humble soldier, a courageous leader, and a proficient warrior. Needless to say, you were tired of the blatant approaches from the bar patrons with less finesse, and the idea of not being fawned over was an appealing one. Perhaps you could even have a legitimate conversation.

You’d made some efforts to place yourself near him, but the way he’d shift uncomfortably on his feet made you wonder if your presence was unwelcome. Finally, after unabashedly using Fives as a cover for a few nights in a row, he called you out.

“Just go talk to him,” he said suddenly, elbowing you in the side a little harder than he intended.

“What!” you gasped, partly in pain and partly surprised at his directness.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are. I don’t know how you’re so impervious to my charm, but it’s obvious you’ve been stealing glances at him while you’re talking to me. So just go talk to him.” His response was laced with a grin and a glint in his eyes, and a blush blossomed across your cheeks.

“I don’t know what--”

“Alright, come on,” Fives interrupted, taking you by the elbow and heading toward Rex. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it took all your concentration to avoid tripping over your own feet as you were steered toward the captain, who was talking with another clone and immediately stiffened as he saw you approach.

“Hey Captain,” Fives said casually, pulling up in front of them, “We were just talking about that backward strategy you pulled on Saleucami, and this pretty little thing wanted to hear more about your battle tactics.”

You groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to slap your palm into your forehead, but the awkward noise that came from Rex immediately diffused the tension with hilarity.

“Ehhrmmeheh…” he said, eyes darting from Fives to you. His companion chuckled, slapping him on the back and saying his goodbyes as he left with Fives, leaving the two of you staring at each other.

“So uh… Battle tactics… That’s… hard…” you offered, clasping your hands together in front of you and trying not to fidget.

“It’s… Well, we’re trained… And the generals, and admirals, and… you know. It’s not just me,” Rex offered, running a hand over his closely-shaved blonde hair. His helmet was on the counter nearby, and you noticed the interesting markings across the top, making a mental note to ask about them later. You took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly to steady your nerves, and leaned against the counter, feeling yourself relax a little.

“Okay, so what would you do in this scenario…” You quizzed, and the two of you launched into the nerdiest discussion of war strategy you could have imagined. The minutes ticked by, and you started to feel much more comfortable. Rex was clearly engaged, enjoying the intellectual challenge and particularly appreciating the familiarity of the content. Drinks were refilled, you began coming up with increasingly ridiculous situations, both of you loosening up and laughing a bit more, and finally the conversation turned toward other things. He shared about the early days of the war, you talked about your aspirations for a career that seemed to be just out of your reach, and the discussion was occasionally punctuated by the arrival of someone else who wanted to have a quick talk with Rex. He would engage for a bit, sending you the occasional side glance and grin that made your heart skip a beat, then would turn back to you.

Things were going fantastically, but you were suddenly interrupted by a very unwelcome presence -- a regrettable one-night-stand from a while ago who had never quite gotten the hint that you didn’t want to talk to him again. He sidled up next to you, a little too close for comfort, sloshing his drink a bit as he leaned into your side with a foul-breathed greeting.

“Well helloooooo! Fancy meeting you here!” he slurred, eyes roving over you with thinly veiled interest. You crinkled your nose, leaning away from him a bit, and Rex noticed your discomfort.

“Hi there,” he said, a sudden air of authority in his voice that gave you goosebumps. “We were just heading out, but nice to see you, and hope you have a good night!” He rose to his feet from the stool he’d been resting on, offering his arm to you as he used the other one to tuck his helmet against his hip. You stood as well, taking his arm and muttering a farewell to the inebriated mistake of your past, who started rambling something incoherent after you as the two of you strolled out the front door.

The cool night air hit your face, refreshing and invigorating after the cloying warmth of 79s as you walked down the street and around the corner. You realized with a start that Rex was looking at you, a little half-smile on his face that made you suddenly want to kiss him. What were you supposed to do now? It had been a diversion to leave the bar, but you now found yourself with no plan of where to go. You opened your mouth for some feeble attempt at a joke, but were suddenly interrupted by a loud voice behind you.

“Hey! I wazzn done with you! I’sstill talkin n you left!”

You whirled around, matched in speed by Rex who had turned to face the threatening sound immediately. The obnoxious little hemorrhoid was staggering after you, still holding the glass from the bar, waving it angrily at the two of you. His face was bright red, mouth spluttering with words, and you wondered how you ever made such a bad decision like that. Your self-flagellation was halted by the gentle push of Rex’s helmet into your arms, as he stepped slightly in front of you to face the approaching complainer.

“Easy there, brother. Why don’t you take your glass back and have a good night?” Rex said, striking a balance of firmness and affability. You marveled at his ability to be direct without the bravado that so many insecure men would immediately put on when challenged in any way.

“YOU take thglass back!” the parasite spluttered, making a sudden lunge at the two of you. In one smooth motion, Rex moved the two of you sideways, out of the way of the ill-aimed charge, and you let out a little yelp of surprise as you backed up against the wall beside you, clutching the helmet in your arms. In a flash, Rex was in front of you, holding a hand up toward the angry little fuss, who was revving up for another go. He came at the Captain and was easily dodged, running past in a clumsy bundle of flailing limbs, crashing into some passersby who squawked in surprise and disapproval.

“Time to go home,” Rex commanded, still squaring up in case the fool decided to have another go. And indeed he did, lowering his head and taking a swing at the clone, who effortlessly dodged it and quickly swept his legs out from under him. He fell backward with a disproportionately satisfying thwack, head knocking into the mirror of a speeder on the way down, sending the glass mug flying from his hand, and passed out cold. You cringed, pressing the back of your head into the wall in embarrassment, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Rex turned back to you, expression unreadable, and you began to offer your apologies.

“I’m so sorry,” you started, but he waved them away, and you were overcome with the sudden realization of just how damn sexy he was. The combination of hours of conversation, his intelligence and humility, and the fearless protectiveness were intoxicating, and the rush of all that had just happened hit you like the brick wall you were backed up against.

“Eh, I guess it’s the struggle of having such devoted followers,” Rex said dismissively, a playful smile on his face.

“More like clingy regrets from a moment of bad judgment,” you admitted, turning his helmet in your hands.

“I’ll take that if you’d like,” he said, extending a hand warmly and nodding toward the helmet.

Whether it was the thrill of the series of events, the culmination of the emotional roller coaster you’d been on in life, or just the sheer magnetism of the blonde beauty in front of you, a sudden courage found its way into your heart. You hoped it would be received well, but it just felt so… right. You took a step forward, shifting the helmet around behind your back, holding it in both arms between your spine and the wall, and lifted your chin toward Rex with a cheeky grin.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to come and get it from me.”

You didn’t know where it came from, but the spark between the two of you was undeniable, and you held your breath as Rex raised an eyebrow in surprise. Your heart skipped a beat when he pursed his lips, assessing you with a gaze that made your knees weak. He had seemed so awkward at the bar, so unsure of himself, but now he was none of those things. His presence exuded confidence, and he moved slowly toward you. The smoldering intensity in his eyes melted you to the core, and you inhaled sharply as he brought his face within inches of yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he leaned toward your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Well look at you all of a sudden,” he purred, reaching an arm around your side. You temporarily forgot about the helmet as he moved his lips from your ear to your mouth, not touching, just barely hovering in the most tantalizing way. His eyelids were low as he took in a slow breath, raising his eyes to yours and brushing the tip of your nose with his own on the way. Your lips parted slightly, holding your breath, every nerve in your body on fire as you found yourself yearning to close the distance between the two of you but also finding yourself frozen in place, unable to move.

The tension was suddenly broken as you felt the helmet slip out from behind you, and you fell back into the wall with a surprised gasp. Rex stood up straight, holding the helmet up triumphantly with an eyebrow waggle. The flood of emotions was indescribable -- shock, humor, indignation, disappointment, delight…

“That’s not fair!” you breathed, feeling slightly embarrassed at being toyed with, and you took a hopeless swipe at the helmet, which he easily pulled out of reach with a smile.

“You’re right…” he answered, surprising you as he pressed forward against you, snugly trapping you between his plastoid armor and the wall. You brought a hand to his chest plate, the other resting on his hip, looking up at him in thoroughly flustered admiration. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself at this point, but he lifted his free hand to your chin, tipping it upward ever so gently, and hesitated to scan your eyes for consent. You closed them, leaning forward slightly, and he dropped his helmet to the ground, snaking his other arm around your waist, pressing the most deliciously tender kiss to your mouth. Electricity coursed from your head to your toes, and you melted against him, drowning in his scent and taste and touch. A quiet, contented “hmm” rumbled in his chest, and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss blissfully.

It felt like hours and seconds simultaneously when you finally parted, sucking in the cool air in disbelief and amazement. He leaned his forehead gently against yours, leaving his eyes closed for a moment, a small smile on his lips, and you reveled in the contrast of his sharp features and the softness of his touch. What a change from the flustered, awkward start of your interaction… A million thoughts and questions flew through your mind, but you let them all drift away to instead savor the moment.

“Thank you?” you whispered, earning a tiny chuckle from him.

“My pleasure,” Rex answered, “Should we go discuss some more battle strategy?”

You laughed out loud now, giving his cheek a fond caress, "Fantastic idea."

LOOK!! Fanart!! 😭😍🥹👏🏻👏🏻 SO HAWTT!!

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 11 months

Text

Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Trouble Fitting In

Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.

Pairings: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, Tungst (OC), Brett (OC), Drip (OC), Gloss (OC), Rift (OC)

Tags & Warnings: platonic, BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, lots of sass, humor, tension, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions (ie: blood, bodily fluids, needles, procedures, etc), tbb whump (later chapters)

Word Count: 5.8k

Author's Notes: This chapter was so much fun to write! The gif will make sense after you read the chapter, but I couldn't help myself. No TBB whump yet, still working on the setup. I believe in strong setups that make the exciting part more rewarding. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As you walk with your new squad through the halls of Kamino, you can’t help but shift your eyes to each member as they chat amongst themselves. You follow behind them, listening intently, and waiting for a moment to remind them that you’re still here, but the moment doesn’t come. The five clone brothers talk to each other as if you don’t exist, and you’re not quite sure if they are doing it on purpose or if they really are that absentminded about your presence.

You imagine this treatment is to be expected, at least a little bit. Clones are very familial and protective of each other, so attempting to fit in with an established squad is not the easiest of tasks. However, you want to show Kix that you can assimilate yourself into the most closed-off clone squadron the GAR has ever created and survive. You decide to take a less aggressive approach and see what comes of it. It isn’t the best plan, but you have to start somewhere.

When you reach their barracks, and Hunter opens the door, your nose is immediately assaulted by a pungent odor that churns your stomach. You try not to take any deep breaths as you peer into the dimly lit room. You wiggle your nose as you adjust to the smell and scan around the room. There are four bunks, each one distinguished out of the others with personal belongings and, well, junk. There’s also a hammock in the corner, and a couch across from the center table.

The group of clones walk over to their respective bunks and put their things down. You’re not sure how Wrecker sleeps in his bunk, considering the amount of garbage on it, or Tech for that matter, with all the wires and things poking out. Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks are the cleanest out the bunch, and closer to standard regulation. Which means the hammock must belong to Echo. You add notes to your squad mate's mental profiles as you continue to observe them.

However, standing alone at the entrance of their barracks and simply watching has now become very awkward for you. They all seem to have routines and you are most definitely not a part of any of them, or even have one of your own to start doing. You’re used to the barracks pods for the cadets, not a full barracks room. You wait patiently for your new commanding officer to tell you what to do or where to put your stuff, but he seems to be concerned with other things.

Unable to stand the blatant disregard of your presence any longer, you clear your throat in an attempt to gain some attention. No one seems to hear or notice you, so you try again with the same lackluster results. To these clones, ignorance must be bliss. You sigh and decide to take the direct approach as you walk over to Hunter, who is sitting on his bunk with his data-pad in hand.

“Sergeant,” you say.

“Medic,” Hunter says without looking up from what he is doing.

“Where should I put my personal belongings?” you ask.

“Wherever you want,” he answers with a dismissive wave of his fingers. He puts the data-pad down, bends over to pick up a box next to his bunk, and gets up to walk towards the table in the middle of the room.

“Understood, sir,” you say while following him to the table.

He sits down on the bench seat and places the box on the table. He pulls out his DC-17 blaster, opens the cleaning kit, and takes the contents out. “Something else?” he asks as he begins to disassemble his blaster.

You fidget with your fingers before asking the other important question. “Where is my bunk?”

Hunter puts his blaster down, turns his head to look at you, and raises an eyebrow. “Who said you were sleeping here?”

“Well, I thought–”

“You thought, now did you?” Hunter chides. “Well, think again, kid.”

“But, I’m part of the squad!” you argue. Yes, the place smells horrible, but these men are supposed to be your new family. You can’t sleep somewhere else. That doesn’t make any sense. That’s not how squad assimilation works.

“You might be part of this squad,” Hunter begins, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like you, trust you, or want you here.”

“Give her a break, Hunter,” Echo says as he walks over and sits down at the table.

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Must you always have an opinion?”

Echo rolls his eyes in return. “Must you always be so dogmatic?” Echo turns to look at you. “You can take the couch.”

“You can’t just give her the couch!” Hunter exclaims.

“Any objections?” Echo asks as he looks around the room at the three other clones.

“It will not be an issue with me,” Tech says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“As long as I get to sit on it during the day-cycle, I don’t care,” Wrecker hurls back loudly from his bunk.

“Not my problem,” Crosshair sneers as he narrows his eyes and stares into your soul.

You shiver at his cold glare, unsure of what you did to make him dislike you this much.

Echo gives Hunter an, I told you so, side eye and Hunter rolls his eyes again while crossing his arms in defeat. Echo gestures for you to make yourself comfortable on the couch, and you give him a small nod and smile as thanks. After listening to them argue over you, twice now, you’re not really sure who’s actually in charge of this squad, Hunter or Echo. However, Echo seems to be the most reasonable of the bunch and your biggest supporter, if you can even call it support.

“Get yourself settled,” Echo says. “Then we’ll hit the mess hall for some lunch.”

You do as he says and walk over to the couch. You place your duffel down next to it and sit down on one of the cushions, bouncing on it a little to feel out your new bunk. It’s a little softer than the barracks pods, which is nice, but there are no sheets, pillows, or even a blanket to be found. You look around the room to see if you can find any spares, but it’s hard to locate anything with all of the junk lying around. You surmise that you’ll have to find a pillow elsewhere.

You open your duffle and pull out a few personal items, but then quickly realize you have nowhere to put them. You look at what’s around the room and figure one of the crates can make a decent table to put your stuff on. You get up and find the closest one, pressing your full weight against it to push it over to the couch. As you begin to move the crate across the floor, you can feel their gazes shift to you. It’s like they’re waiting for you to trip or ask for help, but you don’t.

The crate proves heavier than you expect, and you wonder what is possibly inside of it. Their stares become unnerving as you push the crate into place next to the couch and you let out a small grunt with the last push. You pant softly at the exertion, but recover in a few seconds. Now that you have a place to put your things, you kneel on the ground and continue to pull your belongings out of your duffel, including a photo of you and your parents from when you were younger.

“Who’s that?” Wrecker asks as he bends over to look at the photo.

You startle at his sudden presence looming over you, but regain your composure and turn your head to look up at him. “My parents,” you say with a fond smile.

“Woah,” Wrecker says with awe. “You have parents?”

You chuckle at the innocent question. Clones are definitely fascinating people to be around. Grown in test tubes, they are motherless ten year olds stuffed into adult bodies with built-in programming to be fearless and loyal soldiers. Of course he wants to know about your parents, because he’s never had any of his own.

You sigh. “I had parents.”

“What do you mean, had?” Wrecker asks.

“They’re dead,” you say flatly while pulling more things out of your duffle.

“Oh,” Wrecker says. He straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reassure him. “They’ve been dead for a while now. That’s why I came all the way out here.” You trail the rest of your words into a soft whisper. “To find a new family.”

“Well, we don’t have parents either,” Wrecker says in an attempt to make you feel better. He grins. “You can be part of our family if you want.”

You half-smile at his kind words, but he seems to be the only one who shares the sentiment. The resounding silence and side glances after Wrecker’s remark tells you everything you need to know about your place in the squad. You sigh. You really did want a family, one that you could call your own, but it seems too far out of reach now. Hunter made it clear he’s going to keep you at arms length, and you understand the resistance, to a point, but their shunning still hurts.

“Thanks, Wrecker,” you say. “That’s a very nice offer.”

As Wrecker moves back towards his bunk, you finish pulling the rest of your things out of your duffle and place them all neatly on the crate. Happy with your little nook of a home, you plop yourself onto the couch, lean your head back, and take a deep breath. The smell of the barracks seems to be growing on you, albeit not by choice, but at least it doesn’t make you want to vomit anymore. You close your eyes and wonder if things will get better or worse from here on out.

After a couple hours of awkward silence in the barracks, it’s time for lunch. You trail behind your squad down the corridors and toward the mess hall in silence, again. They converse amongst themselves just like before, and never give you a moment to say anything or interject your own thoughts. They aren’t dull conversations either, so you listen with interest at their choice of words and the way they speak to each other, continuing to add to your mental profiles.

You sit down at the mess hall table with your squad and the silence is even worse. No talking, only eating. You pick at your food while remembering back to when you were a kid and ate meals with your parents at the table. The three of you always talked about how your days went and anything exciting that happened. You remember there was always laughter at the table. Laughter and love. Even the clone cadets had more conversations with you than these guys.

“Hey, Civvy!” Tungst calls as he approaches your table with his food tray.

Speaking of cadets. You groan at the sound of your awful name, but are happy to see a friendly face.

“You found out my name, huh?” you ask while twirling your fork around in boredom.

“News travels fast around here,” Tungst says as he sits down next to you, ignoring your squad mates who are also sitting at the table.

“Where’s the rest of the squad?” you ask as you peer around your shoulders.

“They’re coming,” Tungst says. He takes a bite. “They had a few things to finish up in the barracks.”

“Care to introduce the reg?” Hunter asks as he points with his utensil at the cadet who is clearly ignoring them. Tungst narrows his eyes at the sergeant and Hunter stares back, displaying equal animosity.

“Oh, yeah,” you feel embarrassed that you forgot to introduce him to your new squad. “Clone Force 99, meet Tungst and Tungst, meet Clone Force 99. He’s one of my friends from training.”

“Pleasure,” Tungst answers curtly.

“Is this the clone who’s anatomy you know so well?” Crosshair asks with a devious smirk from across the table.

“Cross,” Echo whispers in warning. “Don’t.”

You cough and almost choke on your food as your face turns red with mortification. Not this again. Why is this even a topic of discussion? You swear that Crosshair’s only goal in life is to make you uncomfortable. His words make you angry, however, you breathe and calm yourself. It’s not worth getting upset about and you figure that as long as you don’t feed into his antics, then the buck will stop there. You have to be the bigger person when it comes to Crosshair.

Tungst slams his fist on the table. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”

You flinch at the sudden loud noise. Oh no. He took the bait. You know this is not going to end well.

“Perhaps, I’m mistaken,” Crosshair mocks. “Maybe it was the commander instead. That’s how she became so popular, isn’t it?”

“I highly doubt the commander would trade preferential treatment for sexual favors,” Tech explains.

You can’t believe he said that. Why did he say it so loudly? You look around to see if anyone heard the scandalous remarks, but you don’t see anyone staring. However, you feel like everyone is now silently judging you. You place your head in your hands to hide your embarrassment, even though you have nothing to be embarrassed about. There were no 'favors' exchanged for your success. Everything you earned was won through blood, sweat, and tears.

Tungst shoots up from the bench seat in anger. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Tungst,” you gently tug on his arm, trying to get him to calm down before things escalate. “It’s okay, really. You don’t–”

“No, it’s not okay,” Tungst says as he looks down at your red face. “They’re making you sound like some sort of tramp.”

"If the stamp fits," Crosshair smirks.

Tungst scrunches his nose with indignation. “You son of a–”

“No one’s saying anything like that,” Hunter interjects as he takes a sip of his drink. “It’s just some friendly banter.”

“You rejects, have a funny way of being friendly,” Tungst scoffs.

“Are you picking a fight, reg?” Crosshair challenges as he flicks his toothpick away and stands up.

Wrecker pops up from his food tray. “Someone say fight?”

“Maybe, I am,” Tungst says. He leans over the table to get closer to Crosshair’s face. “If you don’t leave her alone, then maybe we should fight.”

“She belongs to us now,” Crosshair says with a cynical smile, reveling in the rise he’s getting out of the cadet. “We can do whatever we want with her.”

“That’s it!” Tungst yells, then jumps over the table to dive towards Crosshair.

The two clones tussle on the ground, trading blows at each other's faces and kicking each other’s torsos. A few seconds later, you see the other cadets from Tungst’s squad arrive and engage in fisticuffs with the other members of Clone Force 99. Echo, the last one still sitting at the table, rubs his fingers against his forehead and sighs before getting up and punching some poor cadet’s lights out. Soon, the entire mess hall of clones joins in on the violent festivities.

You wince as you watch the unruly sight before you, and you try to move out of the way of the flailing body parts. You are all for aggression when needed, but this massive brawl is just idiotic. You remember the stories you were told about Clone Force 99, and you know them all to be true now. You contemplate whether to join the fight or to stop it, but you’re torn between your cadet friends and your new squad. Whose side do you pick? Do you even need to choose a side?

Unfortunately, the decision is made for you when a softball sized fist collides with the right side of your face. You let out a loud feminine cry at the hit and the commotion comes to a dead stop. Everyone looks at you while you hold the side of your face as it contorts in pain. You don’t know who threw the punch, and you don’t care. You spit some blood onto the floor and lift your face up, staring dizzily at the clones in front of you until you find the one you’re looking for.

“Permission to leave, sir,” you stammer out before spitting more blood onto the floor.

Hunter looks at you with his first glimpse of real emotion and nods. “Permission granted.”

As you turn to exit the mess hall, Tungst runs after you. “Civvy, wait!”

You turn around and put up your hand to stop him. “Please, just leave me alone right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with slumped shoulders.

You take a deep breath and leave to return to the barracks to take care of your injury. You stop by one of the refreshers on the way back to check yourself in the mirror. Looking around, there doesn't seem to be anyone else in it. You push your stomach against the sink and lean towards the mirror, opening your mouth to get a better look. There’s not much you can see through all the blood, so you painfully swish some water around and spit it into the sink to try and clear it out.

“Want some help with that?” Kix asks while leaning against the side wall, medpack in hand.

You startle for a second, and whip your head around, but then relax when you realize it's just Kix.

“I heard about some friendly fire in the mess hall," Kix says apologetically. "You okay?"

You turn back towards the mirror and sigh. “Yeah.”

Your voice sounds like you have cotton balls stuffed in your cheeks and Kix chuckles at it. You lift yourself up to sit onto the edge of the sink counter to give him a good angle to examine your mouth. He places the medpack on the counter beside you, puts on a pair of sterile gloves, and pulls out a small light. You open your mouth as wide as you can and tilt your head side-to-side to give him the room he needs to look around.

“That’s a really nice laceration you’ve got on the inside of your cheek,” he notes as he inspects the inside of your mouth. “Must've bit it pretty hard.” He pokes around a little more and you wince as he touches it. “But, no broken or loose teeth, and no jaw dislocation, so that’s good.”

You let out a sigh of relief and adjust your jaw as Kix removes his hand from your mouth. While he throws his gloves away and opens the medpack to grab the bacta spray, you lean back against the mirror, close your eyes, and let a few tears escape. When he faces you again, to apply the bacta spray, the tears don’t go unnoticed. He puts the spray down and turns away to lean back against the counter, still looking at you through the mirror from across the refresher.

“Those aren’t tears of pain, are they?” he asks.

You shake your head and more tears come out as you lift your hands to cover your face in shame. You're a Combat Medic of the GAR. You’re a medic trained for combat. You’re not allowed to cry. You’re not allowed to show emotion. You’re not allowed to be fragile. But, the best day of your life is suddenly turning into the worst day of your life, and you’re struggling to process it. You want a repeat, a do-over, anything to keep from being in the present, so you cry.

“It’s okay,” Kix soothes, still facing away from you. “You can let it all out here with me.”

“Why?” you ask through muddled tears. “Why did you assign me to them? They want nothing to do with me!”

Kix sighs and turns back around to look you in the eyes. “You're my best medic, you know that right?”

You nod your head in agreement.

“And I need my best medic for my toughest cases, don’t I?” Kix continues.

You nod your head in agreement again.

“Well, Clone Force 99 is that toughest case," Kix explains. "I gave you this assignment because I know you’re the only one who can handle it. You’re the only one who can handle them. You’re tough, clone tough. You can play their game and win.”

You move your puffy eyes to look at him and mumble out a small, “Really?” You wonder if this is what Kix was trying to tell you after graduation, before Hunter interrupted your conversation.

“Yes, really,” Kix chuckles at your garbled speech. “I know it won’t be easy, but I need you to be exactly who you are, no more and no less. Let who you are change them, not the other way around.”

You sniffle one more time, wipe your tears away, and nod your head. Maybe this is what you need to hear. That this assignment isn’t an accident, a punishment, or a cruel joke. Maybe, just maybe, Kix is right and you are what Clone Force 99 needs. You’re a tough combat medic that takes no lip from anyone and will sass your way into their squad and force them to listen to you. You reinvigorate yourself with your thoughts and nod at Kix, this time with more sincerity.

“Good,” Kix says. “Now, let's get an icepack on that cheek of yours before you grow a second face.”

You giggle at the joke, but the stretching of your jaw muscles gives you the worst pain imaginable.

“Oops,” Kix says. “Sorry. Bacta spray first, then ice pack.”

After you finish up with Kix in the refresher, you continue your original journey to Clone Force 99’s barracks. You hold the ice pack to your cheek and ponder your conversation with Kix. He really is the best commander you could ask for and he always gives the best advice. You now feel a sense of pride in the fact that Kix entrusted you with his most difficult case. Going forward, you are determined not to let anything your new squad says or does deter you from your mission.

You make your way into the barracks and sit down on your couch-bunk. You pull out your data-pad with one hand, while holding the ice pack with the other. Being an official Combat Medic means you also have access to your squad's medical files. You think now, while you’re alone, is the best time to go through their files and learn about their individual medical needs. Clone Force 99 is full of enhanced experimental clones, so you need to pay extra attention.

You pull up Hunter’s file first and start reading.

CT-9901 Alias: Hunter - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early Adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Abnormal

Late Adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be overstimulated

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Heightened Smell: Positive

Heightened Taste: Positive

Heightened Hearing: Positive

Heightened Touch: Positive

Heightened Awareness: Positive

Accelerated Regeneration: Negative

Genetic Notes: Ability to sense electromagnetic fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to migraines

Prone to sinus infections

Prone to ear infections

Prone to mood swings

“Ah, so he’s not moody on purpose,” you nod as you connect a few dots and then move onto Tech’s file.

CT-9902 Alias: Tech - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for isolation and delayed speech capabilities

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased neural density: Positive

Increased neurotransmitters: Positive

Increased neural plasticity: Positive

Increased frontal lobe activity: Positive

Increased dexterity: Positive

Increased linguistics: Negative

Genetic Notes: Loss of normal vision fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to insomnia

Prone to tension headaches

Prone to cataracts

Prone to macular degeneration

“Lovely,” you add the information to your mental notebook before moving onto Wrecker’s file.

CT-9903 Alias: Wrecker - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Abnormal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Abnormal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be clingy

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased muscle density: Positive

Increased muscle elasticity: Positive

Increased ligaments and tendons: Positive

Increased body mass: Positive

Increased oxygen retention: Positive

Decreased sustenance requirement: Negative

Genetic Notes: Lack of mental capacity was unexpected

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint pain

Prone to muscle spasms

Prone to arthritis

Prone to high blood pressure

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound pleasant,” you wince and swipe to the next chart.

CT-9904 Alias: Crosshair - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Remarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for aggression

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased concentration: Positive

Increased pupillary response: Positive

Increased hand/eye coordination: Positive

Increased retinal capacities: Positive

Increased agility: Positive

Increased night vision: Positive

Genetic Notes: Lack of body mass was unexpected

Medical Notices:

Prone to photo-sensitivity

Prone to epilepsy

Prone to dry eye

Prone to cluster headaches

“No wonder he hates everyone,” you note, then swipe to the last member.

CT-1409 Alias: Echo - Domino Squad

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for independency

Genetic Mutations: None

*File Update - Post Skako Minor Assessment*

Cybernetic neural capacity upgrades

Cybernetic computational upgrades

Cybernetic communication upgrades

Cybernetic bilateral lower leg upgrades

Cybernetic right lower arm upgrades

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint degeneration

Prone to nerve pain

Prone to depression

Prone to night terrors

“I wouldn’t exactly call those upgrades,” you sigh, then put the data-pad down and lay back on the couch.

So this is your team. A bunch of experimental clones, plus a half-cyborg, with a plethora of medical concerns that may or may not present in the field. Although, you do feel a little closer to them now that you’ve seen their medical history and a part of you feels sorry for them. They didn’t ask to be made, let alone with these enhanced mutations.

You adjust the ice pack on your face as it gets less frozen and wipe away the condensation that drips down your cheek. You look at the chronometer and realize it’s been over two hours since the incident in the mess hall. You wonder where your squad is. Did they go elsewhere and leave you behind? Probably. No matter though. You have a renewed perspective and you’ll do your job whether they like you or not. You’ll be the biggest pain in their backside if you have to.

No sooner do you finish your last thought, does the door to the barracks open. You turn your head to look and see who it is and not surprisingly it’s your squad. They each disperse to their bunks and grab their packs. Curious about their movements, you sit up on the couch and crisscross your legs, still holding the ice pack in place.

“What’s going on?” you ask. Your voice is still garbled from the swelling.

Hunter connects his pack onto his backplate and glances over his shoulder. “We’ve got a new mission and we’re heading out.”

Your heart races at the prospect of your first mission. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t think it would be this soon. You’ve barely had any time to adjust to your new squad or go through any practice simulations. They don’t know you and you don’t know them. Your anxiety increases, but quickly dissipates when your training kicks in. This is what you are trained for, and you’re going to do it. You put the ice pack down and grab your pack and helmet to join them.

As you follow them out, Hunter turns around and stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“On the mission, sir,” you say. You let Kix’s words echo in your mind and refuse to back down.

“No, you’re not,” Hunter says.

“With all due respect, sir, I am,” you say.

Hunter huffs. “And why should I let you come?”

“Because, I’m the best, sir,” you say as you straighten your shoulders.

“That remains to be seen,” Hunter retorts.

“You can’t see if I’m left behind, now can you, sir?” you argue while placing your hands on your hips.

Echo tries to hide a snort. “She has you there.”

“Glad to hear you’re volunteering,” Hunter says sarcastically. “You’re in charge of the kid.”

“What?” Echo questions with disgust. “Why me? I’m not babysitting her.”

“I’ve told you before,” you huff. “I can take care of myself!”

“Shut it, shiny,” Hunter exclaims.

You cross your arms and scrunch your nose.

“I’ve got my own weight to pull!” Echo continues to argue.

Hunter pats Echo’s shoulder and smiles smugly. “And now you can pull hers, too,” he says while pointing at you. “Since you obviously have enough time to make jokes.”

“But–"

“Just make sure she doesn’t die,” Hunter says with a wave of his hand as he starts walking away.

Echo looks at you and sighs. “Come on.”

You quickly follow Echo, your new chaperone, and head off with the rest of the group towards the landing platform. The walk is once again, silent. Maybe the third time's the charm and after this mission they’ll start including you in their conversations. However, you don’t hold your breath that it will be the case. You’ll be lucky to get any action worth talking about, considering that Clone Force 99 has never had a downed man on the field in their tenure as a squad.

On your way to the platform, you are intercepted by Tungst and his squad mates. You brace for the worst and hope for the best, since you’re not sure what the outcome of the mess hall fight was. You’re still a little mad at him for causing such a big scene, but you don’t blame him for your injury. You may never find out who threw the punch, but it doesn’t matter. You’re just happy the five of them are still alive after the altercation with one of the deadliest forces in the GAR.

“I heard you were shipping out on your first mission,” Tungst says as he approaches, his words sounding a little awkward.

It makes sense. The last time you both spoke was after the punch, so you haven’t had a moment to debrief. You stop to speak with them and the rest of your squad surprisingly stops with you.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small smile. “I guess I am.”

“We’re gonna to miss you,” Brett says while patting your shoulder.

Hunter rolls his eyes.

You chuckle. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“You’re going to do great out there,” Gloss smiles.

Drip grabs your shoulders and pulls your face really close to his and speaks with a straight face. “Don’t die.”

You start laughing and push him backwards. “I won’t.”

“You better not,” Rift jests as he points towards Clone Force 99. “Or we’ll have to beat up your squad again.”

Wrecker laughs. “You lost the first time!”

Tungst clears his throat to change the subject. “We just wanted to see you off and remind you that we’ll always be here for you if you need us.”

You smile at the sweet gesture and wrap your arms around Tungst to wish him goodbye. “Thank you for everything.”

Crosshair leans towards Echo and whispers. “You can’t tell me they haven't kriffed yet.”

Echo groans and whispers back. “Please keep your comments to yourself.”

“Can we go now?” Hunter asks impatiently.

Realizing that you are holding up the rest of your squad, you let go of Tungst and follow after them. You turn around and wave goodbye to your cadet friends one last time and they wave back. You are going to miss them. They are the closest thing you have to a family and you’re leaving them. It feels bittersweet, since they may not be there when you come back. They will eventually graduate from cadet training, get their own assignments, and leave you behind.

You let the intrusive thoughts dissipate from your mind and refocus on your current mission. You smile as you walk aboard the Marauder. The only ship you’ve ever been on was the transport that brought you to Kamino one cycle ago. So, this is the first time being on an Omnicron-class attack shuttle. You read up on it during your training, but to see it in real life is amazing. You swivel your head as you look around the ship and take in all the different elements.

“Strap in for take-off,” Tech says as he sits in the pilot seat and gets the ship ready.

Echo sits in the co-pilot chair and also works to get you off the ground. Hunter sits in one of the open swivel chairs and Crosshair grabs the other. Wrecker sets himself up by the gunner’s nest and gives you a reassuring smile. Looking around for a place to sit, you take your go-pack off and strap yourself into one of the jump seats across from the bunk rack. You’re a little nervous, but feel more excited to be out on your first mission.

You feel the rumble of the engines and slight lift as the ship takes off from the platform. This is it. You’re finally going on a mission. You’re finally going to save lives, just like you posthumously promised your parents. You lean your head back against the cold wall of the ship and take a deep breath. You’re ready. You’re ready for anything your squad or the battlefield can throw at you. You’re going to show them that you are the best and you’re going to make Kix proud.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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ethers-moth · 1 month

Text

Autistic people with the same special interests (the two of you) are about to have a field day.

So. Repo! The genetic opera. The magnus archives. The Archival Repo!. The Repo! Archives.

Anyway

Shiloh is developing corruption

- bug collector

- not a full blown avatar but is kind of in the Jonathan Sims position to be influenced by a LOT of them

- feeds on Nathan’s anxiety (she thinks it’s her illness, but it’s more likely just dread that he’s a failure of a parent. He is.) (I love him why is he like that)

- 17 has her say “I always longed for true affection, but you compared me to a corpse”, so when she leaves at the end of the movie that signifies her evolution into an avatar (or rejection of it?) bc she is left with nothing but her bugs. We don’t really know

Nathan is either Slaughter or Hunt

- I definitely am more inclined for hunt for Nathan

- the hunting at the beginning and later when he and Shiloh are on the phone he definitely could do it a lot faster and less dramatically

- he definitely enjoys it is my point

- “thankless job” is also a prime example of his feelings on this job and or its moral implications

- obviously he’s unstable too and that influences jt but he kind of reminds me of Daisy Tonner where he’s over the ethical issue mostly

Luigi is definitely slaughter

- there’s not a really a need for question man is violent and angry I feel like there’s no question he shanks and yells and gets half naked for fun.

- his treatment of the gentern bringing coffee is a great example, he had no reason to freak out other than. Being like that. And also bc he can

- that’s about it actually he feeds on subordinates fear of his unforgiving temper it’s pretty CUT and dry

Pavi is. Hmmm. Flesh??

- I’m stuck on this one, however I think flesh fits best

- his face stealing reminds me of specific serial killer behaviors (usually due to parental issues) that involve using others body parts, usually skin (Ed Gein with his skin suit of his mother I think??) though I think his environment is part of why the face thing is a little less wrong in canon. Idk he’s a fucking FREAK okay

- also we never see his actual face so I feel an argument that it’s tied with dysmorphia isn’t unreasonable

- Pavi feeds off of adoration (even if it’s fake) from the Genterns as well as the fear of having your face skinned

- seriously what is wrong with him

- with the Genterns his boisting of “ask a gentern who they prefer” and overtly unacceptable sexual behavior (“my brother and sister should fuck”) feel like someone who wants validation and attention even if it’s not positive attention

Amber is Flesh too

- I think for a different reason from Pavi, she doesn’t have “inferiority” Dysmorphia that I think he has

- instead, I think Ambers behaviors are “superiority” dysmorphia (both terms I made up)

- in Ambers case she’s changing her appearance to cope with a shifting sense of self and strive for perfection caused by her notoriety and never being told no

- Amber feeds off of being desired and seen and is one of the most famous people in the known canon universe, but her blatant jealousy of Mag really depicts her motivation for perfection

- she also feeds herself to graverobber for drugs (deleted song ‘try my new parts’) I don’t care how good their surgical techniques are nobody is healing their hole that fast without hurting themselves somehow

- basically if Pavi is MAG 90 Amber is MAGP 2

Graverobber is End or Buried

- the end is for obvious reasons with corpse robbing and his lack of fear or caution around death @brainvomitintheparkinglot ‘s idea

- for buried, he’s literally a crack dealer

- he basically feeds the entire cities drug supply (trapping them in addiction that is hard to escape)

- the web usually deals with addiction but I don’t think he has manipulative or controlling motivation, he just works the system against other people

(Rottis corporation supplying everyone is the web, graverobber is a chunk of dust caught in it)

- as shown with Amber, he wont supply without money either, hypothetically pushing his clients into further debt (esp if they have geneco loans) AND addiction

- graverobber feeds off of the metaphorical suffocating nature of debt and addiction as mentioned, and well as literal suffocation

- following the drug thread, I will be treating zydrate like Heroin, in the idea it can be a powder or liquid (even though we only see it as a liquid in canon)

- like most painkilling drugs it can be assumed zydrate can induce vomit and therefore asphyxiation OR in the case of a powder that is inhaled, generally that isn’t optimal for breathing

- also graverobber is probably covered in corpse dust and like. Anthrax

Rotti is web (again, thank you @brainvomitintheparkinglot)

- his company owns the entire city (corporatocrocy)

- he literally controls everyone, his money controls his fucked up kids, and the entire system is his

- the rift with Shiloh and Nathan was organized by Rotti, and I feel like Ambers problem with Mag is somehow his fault too

- as far as I know, Mags blindness is never canonically explained, Rotti could easily be responsible like he was with Marni

- Rotti feeds off the obvious, control over everyone. He also is disappointed his kids found ways around his authority, and yet they’re STILL in his web (addicts and also fucked in the head bc of the circumstances he raised them in)

Mag is. The eye

- yeah. This one is the most direct

- I have a headcanon that she can see through cameras (how she found Shiloh) and how she seems to know all about what is happening in Shilohs life

- mag is both a victim and an avatar of the eye, she sees everything going on around her with the people she loves, but all eyes are always on her, trapping her where she is.

- literally had to do a Melanie king except she didn’t escape, the web and the eye often work in opposition in TMA while also being quite similar, she and Rotti much the same.

- “take these eyes I’d rather be blind” is an inadvertent argument with Rottis control of the web, he kills her for it

Lastly, Marni is either End or Desolation

- she’s not actually present in the film

- End is bc she died and yet is still so so important to the plot

-desolation is bc her actions are kind of why everyone in the story has issues

I could make a whole separate post on Rottis fucked up crack zydrate addicted kids

#repo! the genetic opera #repo!tgo #TMA #the magnus archives #r!tgo #tma entities #smirkes 14 #tma au #is this actuslly an AU this could have happened in canon

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chireikiden · 7 months

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Some unsorted (initial, I guess) retrospective thoughts on The Magician Who Loved a Fake.

First of all, Magician revisits a lot of themes and plot elements from Ashiyama’s two older doujins, Imaginative Power of Meiji ✕✕ (Reimu’s youth and struggle with her role) and especially Koushin Night (Marisa’s relationship with her dad, and even the part where she makes medicine for him). The final battle in Magician happening on the night of Koushin is a very blatant callback there. They don’t fit into the same continuity or anything, but I highly recommend reading them after Magician if you hadn’t read them before. They’re good.

===================

I loved (heh) how the meaning of the title kept getting expanded on. Is the “fake” that Marisa loves magic itself? Her dream? Her lifestyle? Herself? Reimu? Her image of Reimu? And whatever it is, will she still love it by the end? In the end, the answer was “yes” to all of those. If you’re gonna told me you took it for granted that Reimu was a candidate for the position of “fake” too, well, good for you I guess. But for me, that dawning realization was one of my favorite moments in reading this series.

Similarly, I enjoyed how at least my own impression of what the plot was “about” shifted over time. Of course, on a surface level, there’s the Magician Incident, but it’s never really sold as a huge deal in and of itself: it’s probably pretty clear from the start that it’s a lead-in to something more important. By Chapter 2, you’re led to think that the main conflict might be about Marisa becoming or threatening to become a youkai magician. “Reimu deals with Marisa becoming a youkai” is one of the most iconic and well-established plots in the Touhou fandom, with a lot of different takes, but possibly a risk of oversaturation as a result - at least as someone who’s translated a lot of them. I can’t help but wonder if that was a conscious reason that it ended up being teased and then subverted here.

Even as the story mainly focuses on them dealing with the Magician Incident, which starts developing new twists, the threat of a more important personal conflict looms in the background where Marisa has pushed it. In Chapter 9, the crisis of Marisa becoming a magician is suddenly and completely replaced by her personal crisis over not being one anymore. Reimu acts seemingly aloof about it at first, but by Chapter 11, Marisa has kind of settled into the new status quo while the story suddenly becomes about Reimu’s crisis over it – more or less the polar opposite of the conflict foreshadowed since Chapter 2, and of the usual trope. I think part of the reason Marisa settles into the village life is that Reimu is still there. When she disappears, Marisa misses Reimu first and foremost, and magic as the proxy that allows her to be with Reimu (as she admits out loud in Chapter 12).

Gensokyo of Humans did something slightly similar, with how the acute problem of Akyuu’s memory loss and impending death - while still serious - gave way to her much deeper misgivings about her lot in life. Although, in GoH’s case these problems were closely intertwined and mostly ran side-by-side rather than replacing one another as a twist, so it’s not the exact same or anything.

Even though Ashiyama’s on Twitter joking “Fooled you! This was a ReiMari manga from the start!” I think you can’t in all honesty call that a last-minute twist or rug pull or anything, as some people have taken it almost in bad faith. While it was arguably up in the air until Ch. 11 or so whether Reimu and Marisa’s relationship would be at the center of the story or not, I think by then it became well-established as the actual point of conflict (though as I explained above, it was there from the start).

In a related manner, from the very first cover page and announcement, the story is presented as an action-packed adventure manga. I don’t know how much of this was just marketing, but by SCoOW standards, it wasn’t wrong: at first, every chapter features at least one major combat scene. Thus the end of Chapter 8 is felt even on a meta level as the action comes to an end with a crunch and disappears from the story entirely. Marisa and Reimu’s grief over the loss of her magic is made a lot more real by the fact that much like Marisa’s life, the manga’s whole genre takes a shift (arguably towards something more normal for Ashiyama). Of course, Magician was never trying to present itself as an exaggeratedly happy-go-lucky shounen that would make this come across as an attempt at shock-value genre deconstruction or anything; but the complete disappearance of action from the manga reflects its disappearance from Marisa’s life in a way that wouldn’t come across if we’d never been shown that action to begin with. Of course, it’s still understandable to be annoyed by that if you preferred the action.

Personally, I absolutely liked the action scenes too, but they were maybe a little detached, and this shift made it easier to become invested in the emotional core of the story. (Of course, it also happened at the same time that the story became more emotional in general, so it’s hard to separate correlation and causation there.) And naturally, the final battle was great, both in its presentation and what it represented for Marisa as a character at that point. The way she’s forced to fight now - yet fights, and wins nonetheless - provides a big contrast for how she fought early in the series, when she was the second most powerful human in Gensokyo.

===================

Speaking of the “final” battle, let’s address what to me feels like something of an elephant in the room: similar to GoH, Magician has kind of a two-climax structure, where the story hits its first peak a bit earlier but then still needs to carry that energy forward to a second peak. Objectively that space between peaks is only like one chapter here, but it ends up feeling a lot longer. I was surprised but glad to see the inquisitor and witch’s story brought back and tied into the current one, but in retrospect, the pacing does suffer because of the page space dedicated to it then and there, when the story should be riding every bit of momentum from the final battle to the emotionally more significant ReiMari reunion.

While giving every bit of benefit of the doubt regarding the realities of working on a monthly manga, the squeezed pacing of the final chapter is the clearest criticism I have for this series. While it maybe says everything it needs to say - much of it being Marisa and Reimu telling each other what they have already told the audience, which is important - emotionally, it doesn’t work as well as it could, and kinda leaves the reader to expand on it in their own head. Having to digest an ending isn’t a bad thing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true it lacked some oomph.

In GoH’s case, the emotional resolution came first and then had a relatively smooth falling-action slide into the practical resolution. Here it kinda felt like the other way around, and didn’t work out as well. This model/theory I keep talking about might well be flawed and overly based on comparisons to GoH, though.

===================

Marisa’s stay at her father’s includes multiple other characters speaking with authority about how it’s a good thing, basically trying to decide her life for her the way her father used to. However, Byakuren and Kourin are both only projecting their own attitudes onto her and acting sanctimonious about it without really understanding either her background or her present situation. Byakuren of course is an outsider in general, and her armchair psychology and talk of filial piety come across as rather out of touch, but even Kourin, who ought to know Marisa pretty well and in many ways does, has his head too far up his behind to see Marisa’s lifestyle as anything but an imitation of himself, caused by his influence. He takes it upon himself to “fix” it by forcing her back home, and even decides that he must disappear from Marisa’s life entirely or she’ll follow him back to the wrong path again like the child she is. Even above that infantilizing attitude, him deciding to abandon Marisa for good would probably have hurt her more than anything else he’d done, possibly a far worse abandonment than that by her father.

Kourin does throw in valid and I’m sure honest concerns about things like Marisa hurting herself (she was indeed acting irrational and self-destructive - though her literal suicide attempt only came after his and Reimu’s abandonment), but it’s hard to see his other behavior as grounded in anything but personal bias. Whether or not this is intentional and without drawing too strict connections between different doujins, his behavior here and in Imaginative Power of Meiji ✕✕ makes it look like he has a streak of putting Reimu and Marisa in bad situations just to satisfy his own self-righteous moral of the story, even though he’s always been the closest, most trusted adult for both of them.

I’m generally not the type to demand that characters get their “comeuppance”, but man, Byakuren at least admitted (in her mind) that she was manipulating Marisa. Even though I find this Kourin really interesting as a character, I couldn’t help but want some kinda acknowledgment - be it by himself or by someone else - that he was kind of a prick. I wish his and Marisa’s reunion had been shown rather than happen between scenes, at least.

===================

All in all, Ashiyama delivers. I really liked the manga from beginning to end, and can only really say I’m disappointed in the ending’s pacing. The story was emotional, emotionally satisfying, and interesting in ways I didn’t even get into here, like the different magicians who got to show up or the huge damn themes of passionate work for its own sake, feelings of academic inadequacy, and legacy beyond death - something the series had in common with GoH, really. Dunno if I really ever bring it up, but I’m actually a historian, so these themes in Ashiyama’s works really appeal to me. The actual “witch hunt” stuff felt iffy historically speaking, but I liked the way it was used in the story, and also how the magicians of Gensokyo were kind of tied into the outside world - or the Outside World as it is in Touhou, anyway. I kept thinking to myself, yeah, in the Touhouverse, why wouldn’t medieval inquisitors be going more after witches and using witchcraft themselves in order to do so? Especially once it was established that yeah, even though magicians exist in this world, they’re more than capable of avoiding the hunts, and the actual victims were still mostly just regular people.

Ashiyama (and his assistant or maybe assistants, who especially did a lot of the backgrounds) did great work with the visuals, and speaking as a translator, Ashiyama also has some of my very favorite dialogue to work with for some reason.

I dunno. This has been just kind of a ramble.

#magician disc.

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like-rain-or-confetti · 1 year

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Top 5 having a Love At First Site moment during an Arkham riot? I think thatd be fun.

Does anyone else think of those tiktoks where people take the piss out of love at first sight by putting it in ridiculous situations like being caught by a serial killer?😂

Can you believe these menaces have all been in Arkham? All have witness some riot one way or another. Ugh. AND NOW (Y/N) IS GONNA BE IN? OH LAWDY.

The Riddler: He put on a show that would humiliate ever guard in the most brutal ways. He knew he'd outsmart them all, one riddle at a time and they'd all face the consequences. His audience, although somewhat captivated, were dim-witted. He could tell by the emptiness in the eyes of the other patients. Most were as dumb as they come. However, you got his attention. Your eyes wide, captivated with a smile as you watched intently. He got addicted to your awe stricken eyes almost immediately. He was hooked. Something about you had his attention but it didn't freak him out. Not at all. You seemed to submit to him. He held all the power and the Riddler loved it. Given his impeccable memory. He'd be able to find you in no time.

Scarecrow: It was less of you caught his eye and more that he caught your eye. It was blatant that you knew who he was. Many ran in terror before they would do much as dare to face the Scarecrow. Yet you were pressed up against the bars with grin and a curious gaze. His unwavering stare didn't put you off and to his intrigue, you dangled a set of keys in front of him. With a giggle to yourself, you unlocked the door and that was that. You skipped away. By then he made sure he knew your face. You only sweetened the deal when you later led him by the hand to a room of panicked doctors. His doctors specifically. He smiled. Revenge was almost as sweet as you.

Two-Face: He was in deep shit as the guards approached him with a taser. "Give us the coin." They demanded lowly. Suddenly there you were. "Ah I see!" You grinned and dug your hand into...you're kidding. That's the charity donation box. "Is this the coin you're looking for?" You asked. "No." The guard replied flatly. You made a noise of protest. "You didn't even look!" The guard sighed before he made it clear that he was scrutinising this coin. "No. That isn't it." "Oh... how about this one?" "No." "This one?" "No." "This one?" "No!" Slowly Harvey began to back away as you present the guards with coins and toss them on the floor. Eventually, you dumped out the donation box's contents. "Any of these!?" "No! We want the one in Dent's hand!" The guard insisted. "Well, you can't have that one, love." You said quickly and the next thing they knew, you swung the box hard into the guards faces with a loud "Run!" Harvey didn't need to be told twice as he bolted.

Black Mask: "Crazy shit!" The security officer raised his baton and you squealed, shifting back and under the table. Suddenly a hand lodged a pen into the security guards necks, his helmet and bullet proof vest ironically useless. There was a gurgling sound, choking as red sprayed out as the hand pulled it out again. The pen clattered to the ground. "Fucker." Roman sneered, he gave one swift kick to the man's back before spitting on the guard. That was when he noticed you under the table. You smiled slightly, eyes wide in awe of Roman. He was surprised, not expecting anyone but immediately noticed that whilst he'd never seen you before, well, you were rather pretty looking up at him like that.

Mad Hatter: You had been curious as to the damage Jervis had caught. For anyone else with sanity intact, it was nothing short of devastating. People were hypnotised to kill themselves or each other in the most brutal ways. The aim was to paint the walls red. You cupped Jervis face and gave him a blood stained toothy grin, a sign of approval of his work. He grinned back. He himself also covered in blood. His face already bloodied and now it was on your hands. Your communication to each other seemed to surpass words. Such a thing seemed unnecessary. The two of you would be attached ever since. No one quite understanding your relationship but quite frankly scared to find out since Jervis has grown super protective.

#request #batman #batman villains #batman scenarios #the riddler #scarecrow #two face #black mask #mad hatter #edward nygma #jonathan crane #harvey dent #roman sionis #jervis tetch

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munsonsskinnyjeans · 2 years

Text

UNGODLY

THE SC IN THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES:

!fem! reader is 18, talk of losing virginity, mentions of self masturbation, pervert Jason, hand job, penetrative sex, (fem receiving), teasing, breast play, fingering, dirty talk, hickies, corruption kink, lots of talk about religion (Christianity), mommy kink, consumption of fluids, begging, hair pulling, (cum only), degrading/praising, !DOM READER X SUB JASON! Use of the words: pervert, baby, sweetheart, sweetie, sugar.

y/n sat back next to the one and only Jason Carver she had her legs crossed so it wouldn't reveal the contents underneath her best church dress.

the blue and white floral print stopping at the middle of her knee caps and a white cardigan was neatly worn over it to show less skin almost as a sign of a respect to the man who died on the cross.

Her eyes glanced over at Jason who had his eyes closed like the rest of the people filling the wooden rows of seats.

"what are you doing?" He hissed gesturing to y/n's feet a blatant sign of disrespect to God.

"What the fuck does it look I'm doing?" She bit back folding her arms watching Jason close back his eyes his hands rested flat onto each other

"that's disrespectful y/n show some respect"

he gestured to the man on the cross that rested in-front of them behind the pastor preaching something from the cherished brown book resting on the snow colored podium.

she rolled his eyes at the comment watching his lips moving to form the words the pastor was saying,

When the prayer ended everyone opened their eyes sinking back into their seats she could feel Jason's eyes lingering on her body from the flats on her feet to the white headband resting in her hair,

he looked away shifting in his seat, he was about to speak but his mother took away the chance saying her own series of words,

"kids we have some adult time from 5-12 you should be fine at their house right with y/n"

y/n bit down slightly on her tongue thinking about the fact she would have to spend the next 8 hours alone with Jason probably being his shitty baby sitter even though they were both 18.

she wasn't happy about it but yet almost intrigued of course she had been to the carvers house but never for this long maybe she'd fine one of Jason's secrets something about how his mind worked intrigued y/n her mind forced her to think about it constantly.

she forced a pearly smile onto her face straightening her dress out and clapping her hands together down in-front of her stomach.

y/n pulled out the Bible from underneath the row showing her the pink ribbon her mother bought her that she used as a bookmark for a Bible she barely touched.

"I have the perfect chapter we can start with" y/n spoke her hands tapping on the Bible pressed into her hands.

"Isn't she an angel?" Y/n's father asked resting a hand onto her shoulder she could feel the palm squeeze down onto her shoulder shaking her lightly.

"Yes she really is I'm sure you two will have fun doing your study" his mother replied with a joyful smile eager to see how well y/n was behaved.

Y/n laid back onto her bed she watched Jason sit back into the chair pulling out his Bible resting it onto the cotton white color of her desk spinning around in the light pink desk chair of hers his legs man spread while he tugged on the collar of his polo shirt.

Y/n held a magazine in her hands flipping threw the shiny pages delicately once again his eyes were lingering all over her body she could feel them practically burning into her skin,

she of course had changed from her church clothes into a little more something her she was glad to have brought a bag with a change of clothes so she could get out of the unbreathable itchy shit her mom forced her to wear

but she still never complained to keep her image up.

She was purposefully wearing a plaid skirt that she knew was a little to short for her it was so short that when she bent over you could see the cherry red color lace of her panties.

Jason looked up at y/n who stood up 'accidentally' knocking an object from his dresser.

his eyes trailed down to the panties now visible when she bent over the imprint of her ass flashing him ever so slightly a dry feeling in his mouth and yet he still felt like he could drool at the sight.

He had fantasies about y/n ever so crazy fantasies to say he could imagine her tits pressed against him while he fucked her into an oblivion.

he had the wet dream of pushing her up against the desk in an empty classroom imagining the feeling of her hand wrapped around his cock ever so delicately wondering how much her mouth could take of him or even the fact he wondered what her pussy would feel like.

He could imagine it'd be warm and soaked for him that she would clench around his cock so hard he would be afraid to pull out in fear of not being able to slide back in.

Jason was a virgin but it didn't stop him from jacking off, he started to simple porn like the women who flashed their perky tits in play boy magazines or he tried jerking off to the thought of them but it didn't work

nothing would get him more hard than y/n nothing even would rile him as much as her. Just the thought of her tits or maybe even seeing what she wore underneath her best church dresses was a mystery to him a mystery that turned him on so much he would jerk off to the fantasy of it.

the thought of her short skirts that raised up almost so high sometimes you could see the lace of her underwear.

He could croak out his muffled sobs into his elbow begging for forgiveness with every stroke on his cock and every dirty thought he had of her,

he liked feeling the ribbons of cum shoot all over his chest leaving him tingling and in need of another shower.

Y/n put her Bible away into the drawer sitting on her bed she crossed her legs watching Jason's eyes trade down to the flesh onto her thighs,

"what about our Bible study?" He stammered nervously watching y/n shift a little

her nipples were visible threw the white tank top she was wearing the outline of her perky tits was driving him crazy

"I'm not doing that bull shit" y/n scoffed rolling her eyes.

"Then what are we doing?" Jason stammered

Jason could feel her straddle him on the desk chair he thought this was some sort of sick mind game his brain was playing on him "mmm baby look" she spoke her hand reaching down to palm his boner

"Tell me Jason do you ever have fantasies or thoughts like this?" She whispered into his ear hearing him let out another soft whimper for her.

"I- um it's dirty y/n what about" he pointed to the cross that hung on his wall right above his bed.

"Tell me" she grabbed the tightness in his pants feeling him let out another whine at her touch, he was so needy for more he prayed inside of his head for his sins before he managed to croak out a yes

"Jason tell me more I want to hear everything you can pray away your sins after or during I don't care" she gave him doe eyes almost like an act of innocence like she was the angel everyone had perceived her out to be but y/n was basically the complete opposite,

"w-well I-" he was croaking from the pressure of his cock throbbing inside his pants he looked down at it before looking at y/n who had her tits in her hands her nipples peeked threw the thin white fabric.

"c'mon spit it out" she huffed at him pouting her lip.

"it's only about a girl, that's all" he couldn't even look her in the eyes anymore from how ashamed he was feeling this way,

"tell me more about this girl is it Chrissy?" she watched Jason's cheek turn to a crimson red the color of her mothers roses in the garden his eyes looked away and back to her tits like he was drawn to them

"oh baby is it me is that your little crush?"

Jason bit his lip letting out a exasperated groan like he had been holding it in for decades y/n lifted his chin up so he would look up into her eyes instead of her perked nipples and the cleavage visible threw the neck line cut out of her shirt.

"y-yes" Jason answered her question feeling her hand pat him on the cheek softly with a cheeky smirk she moved her hands down to fumble with his belt hearing the metal clank against the desk chair and onto the hardness of the wooden tile floor.

her hands slipped down his khakis so gently he barely even felt it under her hands had tore off his boxers revealing how hard he truly was for her.

"god you're pathetic Jason" she huffed gripping his cock in one of her hands harshly she felt it twitch under the pressure of her hand

his hands wandered to hold onto her waist which she quickly slapped away "I didn't say you could touch me you don't do anything unless you ask" she hissed at him brushing a piece of his golden locks away from his forehead.

He could feel his body heating up with the varsity jacket still wrapped tightly around his body and with every stroke of her hand on his cock it felt like the room was shrinking

like the air was being ripped from it, like y/n was greedily consuming all of the air but he enjoyed it he liked being told what to do and how to do things it's what he had been told his entire life.

She let out a mouthful of her warm spit onto his cock he felt it cover the tip mixing with the pre-cum he had leaking from inside him he let out a whine at the warm sensation bucking his hips upwards for her to even just touch him,

she chuckled at his neediness before forming her hands around his cock sliding up and down so viciously that he gripped both sides of the chair

his head thrown back so far he felt his neck was going to be snapped in half while his body trembled ever so slightly under her sloppy touch,

"look at me" she ordered watching his head turn back to face her his eyes met hers his pupils dilated at the sight of y/n on her knees playing with his dripping cock laced with her spit this was even better than his fantasies.

She was teasing him so well to see if he would snap at her maybe get rough with her but in all truth Jason never had that kind of courage

he was a fucking pathetic virgin.

Y/n licked a stripe up his cock almost like he was a lollipop she had been dying to try, she fit his full cock into her mouth feeling her eyes prickle with tears while she bobbed her head feeling her knees start to ache against the cold floor

Jason's hands wanted to wander maybe to reach underneath her skirt or to reach out to grab those pretty tits of hers but what was more important was the fact he was about to shoot his load down her pretty throat,

"f-fuck please let me cum please" he was begging his hands banging pathetically against the arm rests of the chair so hard he was in fear he'd break it.

Y/n hummed a yes against his cock her nails digging into the moaning mess of a boys bare thigh her nails leaving soft crescent shape imprints.

She could feel the warm sensation of his salty cum being shot down her throat he watched her pull away swallowing the load from him before wiping her lips clean making sure to lick her fingers clean.

Jason was left whimpering and sensitive he was also left wanting more of her dirty touch.

"m-mommy please" he choked on his words accidentally spilling out another one of his dirty fantasies to her, yet she hadn't mind except she felt something flutter in her pussy hearing the words.

"could you get anymore needy big boy?" She whispered aloud yanking him by his jacket up out of the chair and onto his dark blue bed sheets

the ones he had just changed from grey to blue last night because he left his pathetic white ribbons all over the dark cotton.

She stripped off the rest of the clothes until he was fully exposed yet Jason didn't say anything except he was whining at her whining as a signal for her to touch him,

he watched y/n tease him by stripping off her clothes until she was only left in the cheeky red thong of her panties.

"what's my name Jason come on don't be shy" she had her hands resting so diligently on the side of his throat that he lifted his head back so she'd give him more of just the subtle touch of her fingers.

"mommy" he gulped his eyes looking into hers the light blue now covered by the darkness of his pupils that had increased inside finally seeing her true bare form sitting in-front of him.

"what do you want Jason? Do you want me to fuck you right here?"

He was so pathetic that he couldn't even let out more than a low whimper reaching out to touch her but she pinned down his hands against the mattress watching him lick his chapped lips.

"I'm gonna need more than a dirty whine baby"

"Please m-mommy fuck me!" Jason whimpered louder feeling y/n rest her hands on the abs chiseled into his torso slipping off the fabric of her thong and resting down her cunt onto his cock taking in just the tip to tease her with her flowing juices.

He gripped the bed sheets because he knew he was so eager to feel her pussy sink down on his cock but he also knew it came at a price

not only would the golden haired boy lose his virginity in perhaps the most sinful way but he would half to beg in order to get what he craved to get the type of attention and touch he needed.

She had decided she liked hearing his whimpers, she'd listen to them all day if she could because the rumbling sound of his raspy voice filled the room with lustful sin.

yet y/n was enjoying every part of breaking her "angel streak" like she was finally breaking free from the life her parents forced her to live.

"beg for me Jason I want to hear it" she let out a low moan teasing her entrance on his cock feeling her juices mix with the spit and cum leftover on his cock.

"please fuck me mommy I can't take the teasing anymore it's fucking killing me" Jason whined loudly at the girl.

the sound of his begging sent a flutter down her stomach and into her pussy just as his knuckles turning a bright white while he gripped the thin cotton fabric of his bed sheets.

Without warning y/n sank down fully onto his cock embracing all of his length inside of her dripping cunt, she started to jump up and down holding onto the flat surface of Jason's torso feeling his abs skim over the tips of her finger tips.

"Please let me touch you" Jason whined looking up at y/n's tits bouncing right in-front of him almost like he was surrounded by lust he couldn't keep himself away from he was wanting to touch every part of her.

he wanted to run his coarse hands down her body to explore her learn more about how good it felt to partake in her sin.

"touch me pretty boy come on you can do it" y/n croaked out feeling the tip of his cock reach her inner stomach filling her pussy to the brim,

she had never expected Jason to be this big in all of her fantasies she had dreamed about Jason fucking her into an oblivion finally breaking through his layer of innocence.

But this was even better hearing him beg to be touched turned her on more than anything she had ever heard it was almost just enough for her to cum.

She could feel Jason's cock twitch inside of her knowing he was close to spilling his seed.

"mommy please let me cum" he begged pathetically while his hands roamed her body squeezing her delicate breasts and skimming his fingers over her sensitive nipples.

"oh f-fuck cum for me" y/n gasped feeling her own orgasm chasing just seconds behind her.

Her eyes started to roll into the back of her head so far she could probably see her rotten brain her legs trembled like the ground in Hawkins during an earthquake

she spazzed all of her juices onto his shakey cock feeling his warm seed fill up her greedy cunt that clenched around him to take in all of his sticky embrace.

"Fuck!" He shouted hearing y/n pant slowly slipping off of his cock and leaving him coated in their juices mixing together, "Jason" she mumbled still dazed and slightly cock drunk.

She was on her stomach her back arched while she reached out slowly with her mouth to lick him clean of the juices flooded on his member licking her lips clean from the desirable taste.

Jason's hands had let go of her breasts now looking at the marks he had left from gripping them so harshly "oh god i-i'm so sorry" he gasped looking at the redness that appeared on her body.

Y/n smiled feeling her pussy accidentally skim his cock when she laid back, "don't apologize" she whispered to him her fingers playing with the edge of his golden tips, he was still out of breath.

"what am I gonna do with you pretty boy?"

#jason carver smut #jason carver x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 9 months

Text

And once again, a day at Family Video:

"So? How did it go this time?"

"Oh yeah, I've totally got a date."

"Do you really, though?"

Steve sighs. Sometimes knowing each other inside out is more of a curse than a blessing.

"That's what I thought. Get the You-Suck-Board out of the back"

"Sure thing Your Majesty"

"Excuse me? If anything I would be elected by the people, King Steve"

Whenever she hears anyone else say one of his old shameful nicknames at school, she will make sure to "accidentally" hit them very hard in the face during football practice. Or PE. Or sometimes just in the hallway, if they have no classes that overlap. Or the balls, if he is a real buttface. "With my luck I would rearrange his features into something less hideous" is her justification when Steve winces in second-hand sympathy. He truly adores her with everything he has.

Whenever he hears someone else use "dyke" or "fairy" or "queer" as an insult, he will glare at them so hard they never dare wear their current outfit again. Ever. If there is one thing years of being a jackass taught him, it is to give the most judgmental stare you can imagine.

They are also not above inventing a bullshit excuse to demand extra fees if it happens in the shop. He and Robin consider it compensation for having to listen to such bullshit with their own two poor queer little ears. Somehow Keith hasn't caught up yet.

Steve sighs. Again. It is truly impressive how much of an effect Robin can have on him without even physically being there.

" Alright-y, Dyke-y."

But Steve isn't anyone else, and neither is Robin. They are Steve and Robin and they are soulmates. It is almost like exposure therapy, in a way. Hearing it so often from someone they know will never really mean it takes away some of the sting when others use it maliciously. Steve didn't even have the designated-self-loathing-hour that normally follows the last time Mike sneered one of his old nicknames at him. (Didn't stop Robin from "accidentally" spilling her milkshake on him later. Steve only felt a little bit bad for laughing.)

"I can still hear you breathing on the phone. Dingus."

"So sorry. I was just waxing poetry about how meaningful our friendship-"

"Well I am about to start waxing poetry about what a loser you are. Loser."

Steve gives her a middle-finger she cannot see but is satisfactory either way, and places the phone back on the table. For a second he considers hanging up for a few moments if only to save a few cents. But it isn't he who is going to have to pay the phonebill and the job sucks anyway, so he doesn't. That's what Keith gets for his blatant favoritism.

He goes back to the phone after giving himself a point in the Gay-Jokes-Board. If she truly wanted him to play fair, she should've come to work instead of blowing him off because of "sickness" or some bullshit. Karma, bitch.

Another customer enters. He takes a short look at the door and braces himself. To be honest, flirting with girls isn't nearly as fun without Robin's silent running commentary. By now he doesn't even expect a second date, he does it mostly to have something to do while everyone he knows is at school. But he knows that Robin truly is at home feeling miserable right now (she even skipped band practice yesterday. And nothing comes between Robin and band practice), so when he sees the flowing dress entering through the door he is already mentally preparing himself for another conversation that will make him cringe at 2 AM and steal his sleep for the next week. The things he does for Robin.

He is not above admitting how he visibly deflates when he recognizes the bright red hair entering through the door. Thank God.

"Hey Dorothy!"

"VICKIE IS THERE?! FUCK"

Steve laughs at her outrage. By now he does actually know her name (hard not to, with how often she coincidentally comes to browse the store whenever Robin has a shift), but he has called her "Friend of Dorothy" so much that it has stuck. He is just very bad with names, okay?! Besides, in his humble and correct opinion, Dorothy is simply the superior name. It suits her way better. One day he will be able to convince Vickie of his correct opinion, and when that day comes, he will be ready to immortalize the moment she tells Robin with his camera.

Vicky comes towards the counter and Steve makes the executive decision that torturing Robin is more important than costing Family Video money. Robin realizes what he is about to do, but her cries of protest only encourage him further. Will he pay for that? Probably. Is it still worth it? Abso-fucking-lutely. The click when he hangs up sounds like music to his ears.

He smirks when he sees how her eyes immediately search out something behind him. When she sees his expression, her cheeks flush as bright as her hair. Every time that happens he has to think about Robin's hour-long monologue about how adorable Vickie looks when she blushes. He realizes that for once there isn't anyone here to stop him from saying that. He may not be good at mantaining relationships, but no one can deny that he is an expert at getting a date. And if Robin refuses to make a move? Well, he always has wanted to play matchmaker.

He leans forward and gives her his most charming smile. "So...do you come here often?"

She blinks at him. "Are you...flirting with me?!?!"

"Pretend that I'm Robin, alright?" He brushes one of her red locks behind her ear.

"Jesus Christ"

"Superstar. So, when are you free? Lucky for you, I have Robin's entire schedule memorized."

They stare at each other for a time, at an impasse. And then-

"LISTEN TO THAT HOWLING MOB OF BLOCKHEADS IN THE STREET-!"

(Steve vaguely notes that they scare a few potential customers away with their musical numbers. (Yes. Plural. Obviously.) To say that Vickie isn't a great singer is a bit of an understatement. He thinks it is only fair, considering he already saved Family Video's phone bill by hanging up on Robin. ROBIN. If they wanted him to care they should pay him better.)

It is only once they have gone through the entire "Jesus Christ Superstar" Discography and Vickie is already stepping into her car that he realizes he never actually arranged the Robin and Vickie date. Rockie date? Wait......

He basically throws himself onto the the phone

"ROBIN!"

A very confused Mrs. Buckley calls for her daughter. Steve is practically vibrating on his feet.

"ROBIN! IF YOU COMBINE YOUR AND VICKIES NAME TOGETHER YOU GET ROCKIE!!!!"

"OH MY GOD, LIKE IN THE ICONIC AND VERY QUEER ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW?!"

"I TOLD YOU THAT SHE'S INTO YOU BITCH!"

btw. people. please tell me your Vickie headcanons. <3

Hey look the WIP game actually works lol

-> tramp-stamp

-> gatekeeping 101

-> anti-heteronormativity

-> jancy appreciation hours

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #st vickie #vickie stranger things #robin x vickie #rockie #an average day in family video #this ones a bit shorter :/

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makima-s-most-smile · 10 months

Text

Trigun Maximum 1

Hahaha, I am getting closer to the others. Soon I’ll catch up to the book club. This goal is both normal and possible to achieve! And I finally got how to do more than 10 pics… So less parts. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I have all the power now! Edit: Hahaha, I failed. Too much to waffle about and too many nice screenshots. Help me...

Chapter 01: Hero Reborn

And the sheriff was killed off on the first page. New readers get an immediate taste of how No-Man’s-Land works and we old readers get reminded that the world is extremely gritty.

WooWoo! *squeals* He is our point of reference again. I love how he just takes everything in when he gets off the bus, keeping his distance from the trouble around him and just going for his goal. He is a passive observer, like us! We don’t know his angle or his motivations yet. He is as much a stranger to us as to the rest of the world.

Again, just by his style, he is something we are very used to (typical japanese salary man), but at the same time a total outlier to the wild west design of the world. Especially with how he is framed like this, just a black colour compared to the other more western clothes style of the cowboys. Old readers may read him with more of a bit of distrust, but new readers see him with curious eyes.

Okay, correct me if I am wrong, is his titwindow smaller in the earlier volumes? Or did BLR just totally screw me up? Because this is not a titwindow for me! That is just an open collar.

Gosh, Woowoo has the best faces.

Ahhh… the good old “Ey, bartender, tell me the newest rumours”-trope. Every DnD-games needs it!

Nightow just randomly blew up many innocents, including babies, who urged and pushed to get to leave the town with the bus. And everyone just sits there and does nothing. Damn. Well, the sheriff just died, but damn. People really grow apathetic with all the violence around. As long as it doesn’t hurt them or their closest. I have to be honest, I wouldn’t be much different, I think. :/ People just endure.

New readers do not know what happened and they don’t get much exposition, especially the crucial Knives' scene. I wouldn’t say that this is a good move by Nightow. It shifts the tone a bit. But they get to know the gist of what supposedly happened. It tells us how the whole world sees Vash. Old readers already know, but new readers soon will learn about the blatant discrepancy between Vash and The humanoid typhoon. And that point, I feel, is really well done.

I think it is a little bit sad that I don’t see anywhere implied that Wolfwood knows what truly happened. I don’t think we ever get reminded of that little part though it is such an important part for Wolfwood’s characterization. It is the reason he knows so much and the reason why he is struggling so much with his perception of Vash.

Sorry, but that smirk. That has to mean that being a priest while carrying his cross machine gun is a fucking joke for Wolfwood. Only he is privy to it. His own running inside joke that hides the pain that comes with it.

Was the sheriff the minister, too? Or did they both go to placate the evil Vash? Or was he just a random bystander/on the bus on the way out?

This… Is what I headcanon how Wolfwood mostly gets his money from, next to hunting possible bounties and his "tradesman" skill. (I am not over my tradesman perception and I never will, fight me on this, please) He goes from city to city and helping out where no priest is, giving last blessing, first blessing and all the shebang.

Immediate recognition! It’s your dream man, Wolfy! Go get him! Have a lifechanging journey! Find a good place to rest together and find yourself and each other!

I feel Lina on a personal level and Vash… sorry, just no. Really JUST NO! How about you let your body be used against your will for the enjoyment of oth… Oh… VASH, THAT IS EVEN WORSE NOW! (He makes me so angry in this scene that I could only react with sarcasm…) I know this is Vash at his weakest, but still. Bodily autonomy is something very important in this manga (something I will come back to in 9 volumes), Vash regularly gave up his right to his physical integrity, but that was (except with Knives) by his own choice. Lina didn’t have this choice. Should she really be forced to decide between her life and her bodily autonomy?

I think there is at least one other instance where Wolfwood cannot eat his food in peace and… I love this gag. Let Wolfwood eat in peace! But gimme 20 more of these! Please!

Vash has truly lost himself. Someone who makes such demands, isn’t interested in holding his word. This is a sadist who wants to kick someone already down. Even worse for Vash, while abusing his image to do so. And Vash still complies! The image of the humanoid typhoon is so strongly connected to his trauma, that Vash just gives in with the hope that if he just puts his head down, everything will be fine. But it won’t. People just trying to leave get shot up in a bus, the dutiful sheriff got killed. Someone with the firepower to do so needs to stop these people. If you give in to bullies, they will continue and get worse. The image of the humanoid typhoon and his presence won't leave, if you ignore it, Vash.

Wolfwood and Vash seem too familiar in the way they act. It feels a bit weird, when the last thing we saw was that Wolfwood was scared shitless by the fifth moon incident where he barely came out with his life, cursing Vash. I know our babies had this immediate bronection, but it is such a strange change.

In this scene though, I understand. The guys are pisstalking. Putting down Vash and building up their own bravado in doing so. “Hurgh, yeah, I am so cool, I wouldn’t beg for my life, much less for the life of a loved on, fuck yeah.” And they needed to be put down a peg. It takes courage to humiliate yourself. As much as a miserable display it was for the Vash we knew, it took courage!

I truly love when Wolfwood uses the Punisher as a blunt weapon. He used it in Ultimate to put down the controlled Slavers and I just love it. Use that Mega Stake Machine Gun as a blunt force weapon! (I hope someone gets it… I am old… Please.)

New plantpower shown! No wonder Vash can treat himself so haphazardly… I feel it blinds his perspective on humans and their decision quite a bit. A human would have most likely died, being shot like that.

Huff, this scene… Is Vash calling his situation/predicament that or is he calling Wolfwood a hound of hell (funny… Wolf… Hound…) or is it just his name that follows him in the form of the false Vash? All three possible.

And Wolfwood giving him the revolver. He looks so serious there. Maybe even remorseful. Wolfwood knows what he is doing in that moment. He doesn't like it.

Doesn’t Wolfwood just outright tell Vash that he was either there when Knives took over or has something to do with them in that scene? He never saw the gun in his time with Vash, as far as we readers have seen (‘98 on the other hand knows the gun personally). The only time Vash had his gun out was in his fight with Knives. WHY DO I REMEMBER WOLFWOOD AS THIS GUY WHO KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT WHEN HE IS SO FUCKING OPEN ABOUT EVERYTHING?! HE IS JUST NOT SPELLING IT OUT…

The reveal, this over the top kick arse stance, it is so silly. I love it. Wolfwood must feel very cool in that moment and then Vash goes: “Yeah, but no killing, priest.”

I’ve seen some confusion about Vash maybe knowing about the gun, but he looks seriously surprised. But I have a middle ground. Vash was able to smell gun oil and powder on Meryl (in the ‘98 anime, I don’t know if that was in the manga, too.), so I propose that Vash knew that Wolfwood was carrying a gun in some form or the other, he may have even pegged the cross as somehow holding the gun, he just didn’t know that the whole cross was a machine gun torpedo thrower gun.

I love how they immeditaly start bickering. While they massively vibed in Ultimate, this is the true start of their bromance/romance. Two idiots being able to be themselves around each other. And they deserve it.

I love how Wolfwood holds cigarettes. It’s so gender. Which one? How? Dunno, it just is.

These will never not be funny. Wolfwood is so cute in them and just a childish dude. I love those pics. They are with my favourite ones.

Chapter 2: Lina

Worm birds! Wormbirds! Worirds! Words! Wait… that doesn’t work. Bird worms! Birdworms! Birrms! Eh… Borms? BORMS! BORMS! BORMS! BORMS!

Lina and Granny are one of the few reasons why Vash still has hope in humanity. Two people who don’t live the easiest life being an old woman and a girl of (then) 10 that only have each other. They took him in and took care of him when he needed it the most. He barely survived his body being taken over against his will, losing all his agency and being used to kill countless humans. He looks like he is barely there at the moment, just a hull of a human. And they took care of him. Lina and Granny are good people.

Aww, look, they are playfighting! Bickering as always, but Wolfwood gives Vash important info and tells more about himself than he maybe even realises.

Wolfwood says that he looked for Vash for two years, but the reason he gives is the town from six months ago. He is contradicting himself. Sure, there could be other reasons given, but Wolfwood does not give them. He is completely sus.

I love the composition. Knives is angled towering over Wolfwood, his chest? Spike dangling over Wolfwood like a damocles’ sword. Just one movement and Wolfwood dies. Foreshadowing? Or symbolism for Wolfwood’s position as an agent of the Gun-Ho-Guns as someone with morality, but being forced into a position that goes fully against it. Wolfwood, the man without any agency, indeed.

But Stop it, Knives! Griffith from Berzerk did the BDSM-getup first.

Again, Wolfwood being crystal clear, but avoidant. It is just so weird to read. Vash knows, he has to know it by that point. But as long as either speaks it out loud, they can pretend. They can still be on friendly terms.

Three days? Surely not only a deadline for Vash to take his time with his goodbye for his family, but also time for Wolfwood to bless all the funerals as a priest.

How easily the town turns on Vash. It is easy to other people instead of trying to reflect on their previous notions. Vash may have shot a hole into the moon, but Eriks undressed and played a dog so his little adoptive sister may be spared. All the while, these same people watched and did nothing. Witch hunts are easy, aren’t they?

I also like to stress the point they make. Wolfwood is not normal, either! As much as our favourite priest clings to his humanity, what he did with Vash shows an inhuman level of skill. He would hate it, but people group him in with the plant man. Even more important, they did not even kill 60, they incapacitated them with guns! A much more difficult feat! Especially with a machine gun! Our focal point to bench a normal reaction to Vash is an absolute outlier in this world. What does it mean? Is it a reminder that we as readers from the modern time deal with Vash through a different lens than the people of No-Man’s-Land? What does that mean for our judgement? Or is this the beginning juxtaposition to steer our focus on Wolfwood’s arc, too?

Vash. Let. People. Make. Informed. Decisions. This is an ongoing shonen/seinen trope. I despise it. “OoOOOOoooh, no, I cannot tell my (most likely) female companion the whole story. It could put them in danger!” How? They are alone in the room (Sure, worms, but would Zazie care about that? Is Vash even aware of them at this point?) It reads like a chauvinistic deflection so he does not need to open up. He takes her ability to decide for herself with that behaviour. It is patronising and infantilizes his companions. What he really says is: “I can’t tell you my whole story. It would make me feel vulnerable and opens me up to get rejected.” And I know, this is about not spilling the whole backstory to the readers and it is also a point of Vash’s character arc to learn to open up to other people. Vash is by no means the worst offender and it is not without reason that he acts this way. But what is his fear here exactly? That Lina and Granny would go around and tell other people the truth? That they decide to follow him? Or just that they may throw him out and deny their connection? His fears are larger than his trust in his chosen family. And that stings.

Granny is at least not wrong with her assumption that cutting himself off from his peers and close ones makes Vash vulnerable to get into such a situation again, to get hurt again...

Also, hehe, Lina’s leggy!

I am thinking about Lina’s and Granny’s backstory. We get none. They take in a complete stranger that stumbles in completely exhausted and beaten up. The two women don’t live together just for jokes. Where is the rest? I assume that they both lost Lina’s parents in the past, leaving Granny being her only caretaker. Lina is an orphan. She doesn’t have it the worst, having still Granny around and both of them being able to live comfortably. But that does not mean she has no scars on her soul. In this village/city, she seems to be the outlier. We don’t get to see other children, even less so other girls. She is lonely and only has Vash and Granny.

And that’s how Vash was able to fit into the village. A new (male), (somewhat) able bodied caretaker for Lina.

At the start of the last chapter, Eriks was a complete pushover. The little dude abused Erik’s mental state. But now, Vash has found himself again. Not completely, but he is not willing to risk his loved ones wellbeing for that little twerp. Twerp is about to get a rude awakening. We, the readers, get a beautiful scene, where Vash’s actions counteract the things just said. Love it! We the reader see Vash's developement back to his nearly old self and reap the spoils from it in this scene!

Everything about this is just so fucking hilarious. The energetic circling of Vash, Wolfwood’s whole body, the hair, the eye, the speedlines on everything! It looks so stupid, but it is art anyways.

When your buddy does something so stupid, you need to take off your sunglasses to see it better!

I love Vash’s threat that follows. It brings the point home of how dangerous he really can be. I don’t believe that he’d kill the tiny man, but…

The duality of Wolfwood, dumbass by Vash, a reasonable, sensitive adult by grieving people. As much as he tries to deny it, he has a conscience and a strict moral code. Sadly, reality forces him often to not abide by it. And it burdens him every day.

Vash leaving is heartbreaking. I hope he reconnects to them in the aftermath of Trimax. They became part of his family and he is right that they saved him. He should cherish them.

#trigun bookclub #trigunbookclub #Trigun Maximum 1 #why am I talking so much? Oh I love the series that's why #Trigun

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scham-wcan · 7 months

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Maybe this for Cinwin, and Winter being very uptight over Cinders wild air not being military standard? 😂

"Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just--" Once more this got longer than I thought it'd be, hope you enjoy!

In the span of time since the end of the war, it had become a point of, at least internal, concern for Winter that she still was dragging on with some less than civilian lifestyle artifacts; to put it bluntly. Needless to say, there were myriads of issues with barking requests and orders in mundane settings, performing a drill line in a line to reach her pre-ordered coffee first--which she only seemed to realize was a bad thing when Weiss informed her so far too late to amend.

Given, that was by far the easiest component of it all. Talking with run of the mill people, those who she had a sort of naturalized hegemony over, Winter could perform herself easily and still quite make do. It was those... others in her day and life which planted firm roadblocks toward any form of decorum or order her military standards would attempt to cow.

Most blatant, was the horrid new addition to their little Grimm clean up institution in old Atlas. The blithering, monologuing, and untrustworthy Cinder Fall--and of course, some devil who organized their schedules placed the pair of Winter and the Fall Maiden on scouting together in the chill of early morning.

"Grand," Winter had spat, crouched down over top of some rather dominating runes in the snow. "I make two manticore and something larger."

A sniveling scoff belted from behind the crouched Schnee, which only flattened her expression even more so. "You obviously cannot count," Winter rose and turned, eyeing down the smattering of blackened hair with Cinder's voice. "It is obviously a Goliath herd, Blödmann." Fighting to ignore the murmured insult, as if Cinder thought a Schnee wouldn't understand Atlesian, Winter was upon Cinder quickly.

"For the gods sakes." Winter hissed, hand delving into one of her uniform's pockets and producing a narrow line of string. "It is out of Huntress regulation to have your hair within a certain standard." The ball of blackened hair seemed to shift, whipped back and forth from the cold winds as well as Cinder's attention shifting onto her.

"And what of it. Schnee?" The moron was all Winter could surmise. Her hands may have moved to fast, they quickly out paced her mouth, perhaps she misjudged the space between the pair for Winter's hands had already risen to Cinder's jawline.

"Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that..." Winter hissed, growling in her militaristic tone as she had done with dozens of hopeful recruits in the past, dragging her hands backward from the now visible Cinder's face--parting a sea of hair as she revealed more and more of pale and broken skin.

"Here let me just-." Winter froze, though she had wished it had been from the cold, instead finding herself now being bored into by one gilded golden eye. A sharpened jawline, angular nose, cheeks subtle with not even a hint of the weather around them. Why was Winter's heart picking up pace as her hands folded Cinder's hair behind her head, haphazardly folding the matting of black into a tail.

When her hands dropped from the Maiden, it was with some unexplained hesitation, though she was quick to take a step quickly aside from Cinder. "Right. There, now you are up to regulation."

That small click at Cinder's lips, the roll of her eye, even the suave and even gate she took away and onward after the tracks, every bit of her served only to cause more lightning to spur inside of Winter's chest.

"Quit being so petulant." Cinder called out, her hair sashaying behind her in taunt toward Winter, going about four seconds before the Fall Maiden's hand tore the string from her hair. "And slow, Schnee." Cinder creased out, thankful her hair now once more hid her own slightly glowing cheeks.

The mottled look on Winter's face was fiercely replaced with a rebuking fervor. "Why you-." Winter stomped, "Wait for me at the least!" She belted, rushing forward through the chopped snow after her blackened partner.

#actualbampot #ask meme #cinder fall #winter schnee #cinwin #snowfall #scham writes i guess

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weebsinstash · 1 year

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I feel like Val is the type to get his lil pet hella hooked on some drug(nothing too debilitating…maybe) to the point they absolutely can’t leave him cause he’s able to get the purest most refined version of it and they can’t handle less.

Getting to the point that they just give up running and just start finally settling in to the pet role, or so he thinks, when he realizes they’re just constantly doping up to avoid him in their own little world. Always conveniently high off their horse during the times he usually wants to be pampered and loved by them and he’s just like “oh, well alright cunt if you like that shit more than me-“ just fucking instant cold turkeys them. Watching them get their withdrawal meltdowns and promising them just scraps to get whatever he wants. Snuggles, kisses, lick his nutsack just whatever cause he knows they’ll be desperate enough. Only to snort and grin as they look at him so pleadingly and cute and he tells them what a pathetic job they did, using any outburst as an excuse to… get rough with em.

Wrap them up, give em a lil time out or maybe set them up with a lil buzz toy to work out that frustration and give them a new distraction to get through the painful withdrawals. Only cooing at their pleading and licking up the drool from their chin.

Oh- got carried away there. Anyways he a nasty nasty man n I see him bein fuuucked like dat :>

Oh no absolutely is this something I've thought pretty intensely about. it's pretty implied in the Addict music video that Angel is addicted to whatever drug is in Valentino's cigarettes. when he is dancing but looking anxious, Valentino blows the smoke directly in his face and he goes from anxious to feeling more motivated which is probably deliberate on Val's part and also im pretty sure that unless this is just music video pizazz that Valentino has some sort of powers which would check out since dead sinners having powers is already established wirh Alastor

There is also this pretty blatant visual metaphor

and in Angel's room there are cigarettes that are varying stages of being unfinished implying he's trying to stop and he actively acknowledges through the lyrics "there's another rush of poison flowing into my veins, giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain" and it's pretty clear that on top of being abused and being an addict he's also just trying to use drugs to cope with everything he's going through

So ABSOLUTELY have I thought of everyone's favorite to hate scumbag pimp taking advantage of any weaknesses or addictions Reader may have and I personally can contribute my own personal experiences to this since I have a genetic predisposition to getting addicted and have had problems with alcohol and controlling my habits myself.

I can see it now. You're all in the limo and Valentino is smoking, Angel and a few others are too, and the Overlord looks over at you and laughs because you're smoking a joint and just starts openly mocking you for "that loser little kid shit" (even though I would stake my life that Vox would love getting stoned and gaming out and probably does so). You just kind of shrug him off, saying you're fine with just weed, but Valentino can't help but notice you're drinking too. You'll sit there, toke, sip, toke, sip, until you're a little loopy and feeling good, at your preferred level of euphoria, though there's been a few times you've just straight up fallen asleep in his limo from doing too much too quickly and Angel or one of the dancers had to jostle you awake.

Valentino doesn't see you hang out with anyone. He never sees you around town. As far as he knows, you work your shifts and only leave your rented room to get food, bathe, or run errands. Most of the times he sees you, you're stoned and or getting stoned, and there's been more then once that some catty little poledancer or whomever didn't like you whispered in his ear that you've been stumbling around drunk.

I've thought of it going one of two ways: he gets you high by force, or you ask him for it. Can you imagine it? You've been smoking weed but it just isn't the same, either your tolerance carried over from your human body or perhaps you've just been doing so much you built it back up anew, but now, one of the only things that brought you joy and calmed you down isn't working as well anymore, and you're having to spend more and do more and you'll cough your throat raw and still not feel 'how you want'. This high isn't how you remember it feeling before, so do more until it feels good! It is legitimately such a helpless feeling when you start leaning on a substance for comfort and you notice the efficacy wearing off. There's a sense of fear and desperation in it, that 'your only way to be happy' isn't working. And you start wondering, maybe I should try something else, something different, something stronger?

Val's been watching you and having his employees secretly keep tabs on you and you're all at the club and you're sitting near him and you look down at your last joint that's almost finished and you still feel miserable before glancing up at him with these big sad eyes and gestures to his cigarette, "so what's even in those anyway?" And he just smirks and hands it to you, "see for yourself, baby"

Or like, the same scenario but inverted from another perspective, Val can tell you've been smoking like a chimney to the point maybe you're even paying rent late because you're spending so much on your vices, and even if he can't immediately identify why, there's something that gets under his skin at seeing you all sad and gloomy. I wouldn't put it passed him to offer his cigarette to you and you refuse, and he pushes harder for it, trying to essentially pressure you into doing it until you cave, before just grabbing your chin and shotgunning the full capacity of his lungs straight into your mouth while you hopelessly fail to try to push him away

Either way, once the drug settles, you're just sitting there all 😊 smiling and giggling and engaging, overflowing with dopamine, all but melting into the sofa or limo custom you're sitting on while you play on your phone or listen intently to one of your boss' stories from when he eas alive, which always boosts his ego when you listen and you're like "wow that must have been so scary 🥺" and making him feel all big and tough, and maybe he can even convince you to cuddle a little. What, he's not touching up on you or anything, you can't just sit beside him? He can't wrap one of his arms around your waist and just hold onto you while he's on his phone? I mean, drugs and alcohol, scientifically proven, activate a specific part of your brain, and our brains favor the more primal feelings over rational thought which is why drunk and high people can act erratic and shit. So you're sitting there feeling all hot n buzzed n horny and suddenly Oh, big Mr Valentino has his hand on your thigh and is teasing you, hitting on you a little bit, and the mindset of "fuck that man something NASTY" is overpowering your usual rational thought of "GIRL BE NICE TO HIM SO HE DOESNT HURT YOU BUT OTHERWISE DONT EVEN LOOK IN HIS DIRECTION"

Valentino just lowkey making you a sex addict because he gets you high and gives you mind shattering orgasms 😩❤️ I imagine this would be extremely effective towards those of us that have lived more isolated lonely lives lol. The first morning after he fucks you and your new favorite drug has worn off, he can tell you're embarrassed, barely making eye contact with the man you had said some reeeeal freaky stuff to in bed (which he LOVED lol but he'll tease you for it just to watch you squirm). Maybe it'll be a week, maybe it'll be a few days, but you kind of avoid him, but then, it happens: the two of you wind up sitting in the limo near each other again, or at the club, and he catches you sending glances his way, eyes flicking between either his cigarette or him himself, looking away as soon as he notices you.

He'll pull you close, putting his hands on your body, purring in your ear, "what do you need from me, baby?" with the smell of his cigarette ghosting over your skin with the heat of his breath and you shudder and he knows, he knows you're going to be his new favorite toy

#yandere stuff #sinprompts #hh #also like for angst imagine if he got you too high or you got too high and you overdose in front of him #he has his goonies come and narcan you before you can die a second time but from that point onward he literally wont let you leave his side #no drinking no drugs and maybe he even slaps you with the bill for the treatment to resuscitate you #hes looking at your smile and then suddenly youre clutching at your chest eyes full of pain and fear and you look at him for help #i imagine if he hadnt realized he wants you as his alone before that almost losing you definitely does #as a pet as a a girlfriend as property it doesnt matter #youre his and hes going to make sure you keep your stupid ass alive even if it means he has to drag you around like a purse dog

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roostertuftart · 1 year

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I know you're the Kyle expert, but I knew a guy who thought Stan would be an incel. Thoughts?

Hmmm. Idk, I've seen that float around and I don't really get it?? Like, I can sorta get it more than when people seriously say it about Kyle. Stan definitely seems to fall into more... Viewing girls sort of in that perhaps lightly internally sexist way than Kyle seems to, of having some sort of unintentional separation between boys and girls that makes him kind of view girls as very different types of people friendwise, if that makes sense. Like, say he was dating a guy- I don't think much would change in terms of the guy being an extremely close friend who's been elevated up an extra level to romantic. But Wendy isn't really like that. She's not Stan's friend outside of their relationship.

And okay, that's not to say Kyle is a bastion of anti sexism himself, ESPECIALLY noting earlier seasons, but Kyle doesn't really seem to act the same way Stan does when interacting with girls?? His early season sexism felt more innocent and childish, something he's definitely grown out of now. It was less built on this deep internalized toxic masculinity and more like the "eww cooties" ideas that happen a lot with young kids. Obviously division based on traits like sex is not good under any circumstance, but it doesn't seem to have carried on much in his modern view of girls. Nowadays Kyle just seems to view girls far more equally even when divided from them, and cares more about listening or hearing out where they're coming from and understanding their frustration with sexism, for example. While he doesn't really have many close female friends (and really none of the boys actually do besides Stan), his behavior doesn't really shift at all to trying to be gentlemen-y or something around women, denoting a very equal level view of them.

But, in Stan's defense, we see him interacting with the girls way more than Kyle, and I think him having dated Wendy, interacting with her friends, etc etc over the series gives us way more to work with in that area than we get to with the more or less far in between hints we're given with Kyle. One thing that I think may impact this for me is also kind of that the few times we HAVE seen Kyle's attraction to girls play out, putting aside Leslie bc oh boy was Kyle blindly simping there, he doesn't seem to be as quick to focus on like... I guess vaguely sexual aspects like the other boys, which leads to him just seeming to objectify women less (Not to say that being sexually attracted to someone is inherently objectifying, but there is more of an overlap with people who are drawn by looks and engagement in objectifying behavior).

And then there's how Kyle has reacted to being rejected, and I know the big one is Super Hard PCness that everyone likes to point out as Kyle being a "nice guy", but in actuality, he was extremely graceful in how their relationship ended, moreso than he needed to be with the horrible things Heidi said to him, and only flipped out after being bullied and teased and harassed by virtually the whole school, Cartman and Heidi especially. It was definitely not anger purely because he didn't get a girl he liked, it was anger that someone he'd trusted and tried to help so swiftly turned on him and humiliated him for no reason at all, that once again he was being put down by Cartman, and that everyone else treated him poorly as well, Stan included. There's also Rebecca who Kyle just... Kinda let go. Like, we don't really see much of his reaction but there's nothing to tell us Kyle was angry their relationship was broken off, so I'm counting it at least a little. There's Nichole too, who once again we don't really straight up see Kyle's reaction to her breaking up with him. But we do see how he treats her, how much he tries to find stuff they have in common to talk about, how his only anger of their relationship not working is Cartman's blatant racism and lies about him purposely made to sabotage any chances he does get with this girl that he likes. It's not anger towards whatever choice Nichole makes here, it's anger about Cartman's needless and morally egregious interference. I know this is a low bar to pass in whether a character is decent to women, but Kyle just repeatedly not behaving badly over his breakups is a big tell to me. So often we see male characters act like assholes just because a girl doesn't like them or a girl broke up with them or something. Even with Stan, in fact, we've seen this play out. I mean. He's pretty okay too but we did see him tell Wendy she was a bitch for dating someone else. This is from early seasons, that I wouldn't solely use as evidence Stan is a crazy sexist even now, but it plays a part in this conversation on whether or not you can more accurately call Stan Marsh the incel-ish one of the two.

Okay, but like. Why am I even talking so much about Kyle here when you're asking about Stan? Well, I honestly think that the duality of them as characters reinforces the ideas of what the other is like to the audience, and this leads into a LOT of the extremes the fandom will push them into (the fem/masc debate, the nerd/jock debate, etc etc) and likewise it does so here. When we see Kyle being kinda more normal around girls, even though it's rare we see him like that at all, it makes Stan seem all the more awkward when in reality, he kind of isn't that bad at all?? He's pretty normal with girls for a boy his age, though he could be a bit less of a dick sometimes. I do think he sometimes has this huge focus on looks, and that can be... Not great, but it's not to a horrible evil incel-ish degree by any means, and I'd argue for his age he's a pretty good guy to, say, Wendy- Not that he can't improve a LOT but Idk, his shittiness comes off more as "dumb little boy is sometimes a jerk to his friends" to me than "secretly hates and disrespects women".

But y'know, at the end of the day, Kyle and Stan are more alike than people think about many of these things, this being one of them. Whether or not Kyle or Stan are better with how they act to women is hard to say. I can see why people would be able to twist Kyle into being incel-ish even if I don't really personally think it's based accurately on the information we've been given. I can see even moreso how someone might be able to with Stan, and while I do think there's at least a bit more of a leg to stand on him having some issues with internalized sexism, I don't think it's accurate with the information we've been given either. Neither of them are really incel-ish to me.

Honestly, if they were dealing with the issue of not being able to find a partner, they'd probably mostly internalize it into self blame and feel bad about themselves but not really broadly blame other people. Stan might slump into a depression or put his focus elsewhere, Kyle, if wanting a partner badly enough (I don't think it's ever been his first priority and I doubt it ever will be) would make efforts to fix the problem by figuring out what's putting people off about himself and try to figure out how he can fix it rather than lashing out. (Also I already lightly touched on why I don't think Kyle would redo his actions in The List right here over not being able to get a girlfriend lol)

#devastatingly kyle has fallen into behavior that on the surface can be incel-ish looking if you don't read that deep into the show TWICE #which i think is also part of why he gets the incel/nice guy treatment from the fandom sometimes #though not too much so I think other ppl can agree Kyle just FEELS very normal around girls and i think that's bc he simply IS #even if ppl can't figure out exactly why he feels to them that way as a character #and then we have stan who rly hasn't fed into any surface level incel ideas but idk I've been seeing it a lot with him #it could be in part though just bc he shows so much attraction and interest in ppl he likes #he is so desperate about his love life sometimes that ig that can feel vaguely incel-y if ppl want it to be bad enough?#idk #sorry irambled about kyle so much it felt relevant #hope this all makes sense #also ty for calling me the kyle expertSDKFSDF aw #south park meta #me talking #ask #anon #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #have i made enough kyle defense meta posts about how he's not an incel to redeem myself from my incel kyle arc guys

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snow-system-wol · 1 month

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After S'ria and Minfilia come back from their little solo hunting trip (with two greater sin eaters felled and one heartstone retrieved), Thancred does want to have a chat with S'ria about the last handful of days.

Ao3

When Thancred had asked to speak with him, alone, and led him out into the woods – well, it was really a testament to their old friendship that S'ria didn't refuse on principle.

Oh, S'ria could've guessed really, what the topic of choice might be. Thancred seemed to have some sort of reaction to S'ria escorting Minfilia into a fight without asking for his opinion first, and that was only a few hours ago. Back under the trees was a place she would not be likely to overhear it.

And that left S'ria finding a patch of ground that wasn't too boggy, standing on tree roots instead and leaning back against the bark. Meanwhile, Thancred already seemed to have words waiting to tumble out, no pleasantries to indulge first.

“I think she likes you more than she does me, and she's only known you for less than a moon.”

Whatever he thought Thancred might actually start the conversation with, though, it wasn't that. Said differently, it could've been light-hearted or perhaps slightly self-deprecating. The words were… S'ria wasn't sure if Thancred had meant to sound so bitter. He'd originally chosen to lean against a nearby tree, but suddenly felt much less comfortable with being trapped between a solid surface and Thancred standing in front of him.

S'ria pushed off the tree and took a few steps to the side, casually, hoping that his anxious intent was not quite so blatant. It at least put him where he wanted to be, staring down Thancred on equal footing.

Well, slightly unequal, in S'ria's favor – even if he was barely taller than Thancred, it put him somewhat at ease.

Maneuvering aside, he did have to respond.

The conversation was going to be messy no matter what, but S'ria wasn't quite sure he had the energy for this particular argument. He had a great many opinions, but putting some of them bluntly may lead to an outright fistfight between the two of them.

Menphina settled gently in his head, reminding him that there was no obligation to be confrontational.

(Was there an obligation though, for Minfilia’s sake?)

She had no response to that line of thinking aside from the stray thought that maybe S'ria should put his safety first in this case. More intentionally, she amended her statement to simply promising that she'd help dull the sharpness of what he wanted to say – or at least try to.

S'ria wasn't sure she would fare much better, really – as much as she aimed for diplomacy, Menphina very clearly had grievances of her own, a protective streak running deep.

The assistance was… something at least, if she was able to help him pick phrasing that was less hostile.

“Has she said such a thing to you?”

It wasn't quite playing dumb, that would only aggravate Thancred – simply gathering the facts on the table.

“She has been a bit more outgoing, and maybe a bit happier, since she met you.”

“That's a good thing, isn't it?”

Thancred hesitated only briefly. “Yes, it is.”

Then there was only the distant sound of birds and the everpresent rustling of leaves. S'ria was prepared to wait – that clearly wasn't all. A simple ‘Minfilia seems happy’ would not have necessitated an isolated chat. He shifted his stance on the ground, almost wishing they were both seated somewhere. He'd been starting to feel slightly more exhausted than usual, it was unpleasant. Not unbearable, though. S'ria assumed a prolonged breakdown followed by multiple battles would leave someone a touch tired though, yes.

“What, exactly, you do think you're doing?”

Thancred's tone was so frustrated that all S'ria could manage in response was a slightly bewildered “Pardon?”

“I turn my back for a single bell and you're already letting her lead you into dangerous situations.”

S'ria frowned. “As opposed to what? Letting her come out here by herself?” He glanced at the pack of raptors stalking something maybe a 100 yalms from where they stood, as if to make a point.

“Did you even think to tell her to stay behind? Or, at the very least, take point on strategy?”

S'ria crossed his arms, the civility slowly starting to bleed out of his voice. “You've taught her much over the last three years. Maybe she deserves to have her opinions heard.”

If S'ria listened closely, he could almost hear Thancred gritting his teeth. “...She got hurt”.

S'ria thought back to what he'd seen while escorting her back. Minfilia had been a bit winded, but no more than would be typical for someone that didn't quite have a tolerance for heavy exertion yet. She looked to have gone down hard at least once during the fight, with a skinned knee and a slightly favored leg, but – that really wasn't much, was it? Not enough to stop her from finishing the fight on her own, she managed that just fine.

Hells, the only skin broken was a tiny bit just above where her boots stopped. Was such a thing truly a big deal?

S'ria nodded. “Only barely, no worse than if she'd tripped over a tree root.”

Thancred's eyes narrowed and S'ria immediately got the sense that he'd given the wrong answer.

“No wonder she likes you so much, if you're so lax and unconcerned about her safety. Maybe she would've preferred you as a protector – but she would not have survived this long.”

S'ria wished his ears were not so damn telling, the way they flattened against his head. “Being unworried over this is not the same as letting her die. Of course I care about her safety – I just also care about her well-being. Is it truly so bad for me to let her make choices?”

S'ria was increasingly aware of the fact that he'd, at some point, pushed Menphina's influence to the side in favor of letting himself feel frustrated.

“You have the luxury of being indulgent with her and being her new adult to look up to – but you weren't here these last few years. You haven't had to make difficult choices that she might resent. I am trying to keep her alive… if you set her on a path of teenage rebellion and she stops listening to me when it matters most, I swear –”. Thancred cut off and took a deep breath through his nose. “We will all regret that.”

S'ria chose to sidestep the ambiguous threat in favor of honing in on the prior statement.

“Is that what you think this is?! Unpredictable teenaged whims? For – for her to spend that many years in a gilded cage with absolutely no control over her life, and then you –”.

Even without Menphina's interference, S'ria had the good sense to snap his mouth shut instead of finishing that sentence.

There were… far harsher thoughts lingering on his tongue, worse still than the accusations he'd cut off from saying. As much as a part of him clamored to let the words come forth anyway, he knew there was no salvaging what that'd cause.

Besides, S'ria had said enough – perhaps too much – already.

Thancred was much quieter, his tone unreadable. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Whether Thancred was about to kill him or was having an epiphany, there was nowhere good for this to go if it continued. S'ria chose to respond to an entirely different question than the one that was asked, his tone flat.

“You're right, it's not my role to lecture her. If she asks for my help, I will give it, and treat her as an ally. Else, you can use your authority without me undermining it.”

S'ria looked up at the sky. Despite the bright glow remaining, he could hear the shift of the forest – of nocturnal animals coming out of slumber in some long-irrelevant circadian rhythm.

He didn't look back at Thancred, even as he continued speaking. “I think we've been gone for long enough – they'll worry.” S'ria did not wait for a response before starting to walk away.

------

Post-notes:

As bad as the unfinished thing of comparing Thancred to the Eulmorans was, the comment that he had far harsher things that he considered saying was very true. S'ria heavily leans non-confrontational as a person, but in that brief moment, he wanted to lash out and could not possibly tell you whether that was his own idea or if he could blame it on another.

Possibly the worst thing S'ria was tempted to say was: “The only reason she stays by your side is because she is more afraid of Ran’jit than she is of you.” But S'ria knew that would have been disastrous and was absolutely not something he could take back.

#snow-system #ffxiv-oc #ffxiv-reactions #s'ria 🌸❄️#writings #oh boy this was kinda messy #though looking at the post notes it could've gone WAY WORSE

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