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the-cosmic-cauldron · 6 months ago

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𝒫𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒜 𝒫𝒾𝓁ℯ：𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓁𝓁 𝒢ℯ𝓉 𝒜 ℬℴℴ

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

Pile number one, I see that the reason you’re single right now is because you’re avoiding love. You feel that love will disrupt your life, shake things up, and distract you from what you’re doing right now. You may fear that it will cause confusion or force you to revisit old wounds and trauma that you’re not ready to face. Some of you may even have someone who likes you or has a crush on you, but you’re keeping things surface-level, not allowing the relationship to deepen. You’re avoiding intimacy and shying away from getting too close to anyone. There’s a lot of fear surrounding love—you’re scared of falling in love, committing, and even the thought of marriage. It feels like a “hot plate” you don’t want to touch.

You’re overthinking the idea of love, trying to plan it out like you would a career or project, but love isn’t something that can be planned. You’re being too analytical and fearful, staying in your shell and not letting yourself open up. Many of you are repressing emotions, keeping them hidden beneath the surface. You don’t want anyone to see what you’re going through, and you’re afraid that love will bring those emotions to the surface in a way you’re not ready to confront.

Some of you may even be hiding aspects of yourself—perhaps you’re part of the LGBTQ+ community and fear your family or friends won’t accept you, so you’re repressing your sexuality. Others might have had a secret relationship or affair in the past that you don’t want to come to light. You’re keeping things quiet and laying low, avoiding anything that might bring attention to your romantic life.

It seems many of you have gone through a difficult period and feel it’s hard to meet new people. Some of you may be sick, bedridden, or dealing with a disability. There may also be mental health challenges or social anxieties that make it difficult to engage with others. Perhaps you’ve recently been heartbroken and feel like you need time to heal. You might be in a “healing girl” or “healing boy” era, taking things slow and focusing on yourself.

A lot of you are struggling to let go of past issues. It seems like you’re still stuck on an ex, unable to move on or take the risk of meeting someone new. You may not want to compromise, feeling like you want things your way, on your own time. You’re not ready to bend for someone else’s demands or expectations.

You’re dealing with a lot of responsibilities and stress right now. Some of you are single because you’re focused on your children and have no time for love. Others might be working long hours, earning money but burning yourselves out. You might be overwhelmed with schoolwork or taking care of someone who’s sick. Many of you feel like you’re just surviving day to day, and love takes a backseat to all these other demands.

Some of you might be using unhealthy coping mechanisms like drinking, indulging in drugs, or binge-watching shows to soothe yourselves. Some are eating out a lot, treating yourselves to good food, while others might be losing weight due to stress. You’re keeping yourself busy with these distractions to avoid confronting the deeper emotional issues.

Right now, you’re energetically repelling others and keeping yourself away from potential connections. You have a lot going on beneath the surface, and you’re choosing to focus inward, avoiding love and intimacy for the time being. You’re in a very avoidant phase, but it’s clear you have some healing and self-reflection to do before you’re ready for a committed relationship.

I see that for a good amount of time, you’re going to remain single. There will be a period of stagnancy, where things feel stuck in the same routine. You won’t be meeting new people or connecting with them on a deeper level. I would say this period of being single and in this stagnant phase could last for about a year, with some of you possibly experiencing it for even longer. The minimum time I see for this phase is about a year, during which you’ll find yourself stuck in an unchanging, predictable, yet unhealthy dynamic.

However, after this period, I see someone coming into your life very quickly. This person is going to pursue you with intensity, and the connection will develop fast. They really want you, and you’ll likely want them just as much. The commitment between you two will form quickly. I see this person having many qualities you desire, and they will be someone you get very close to. They will take the time to truly pursue you, and as you both get to know each other, you will progress to a point where you’re genuinely dating.

Many of the fears and concerns you’ve had in the past will start to be resolved with this person. They will help alleviate your doubts and provide reassurance. I see this relationship leading to deeper commitments, like having a child together, building a family, and eventually getting married. You’ll likely move in together, and your families will feel comfortable with the connection. This will represent a shift in your life, where your perspective on love will begin to change in a positive direction.

This person will come into your life with serious intentions. They are standing firm in their desire to build something long-term with you. They envision a future together, possibly starting with a pet like a dog or a cat, and then moving on to living together, getting engaged, and ultimately getting married. But this transformation won’t happen immediately—it will come after that long period of stagnation, perhaps after a year or two of being stuck in the same routine. Once this person enters your life, everything will change rapidly, leading to forward movement and eventually a deep, long-term bond between you two.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

To be honest, I think many of you are single because you’re currently in a phase where you may seem a little boring. You might be very focused on practical matters in life, rather than embracing something light-hearted, fun, and full of passion—things connected to love that make you feel energetic and vibrant. Right now, I feel like many of you are more mellow, chill, and disciplined. You’re focused on long-term goals and being patient, which leaves little room for love, especially in a youthful, carefree way. You might not have much to give at the moment because you’re too caught up in your long-term plans, like saving money, buying a home, or building your finances.

For some of you, this focus on saving and being frugal may even be affecting your love life. You’re being intentional with how you spend your money, which means you’re not really putting yourself out there when it comes to dating. If you’re a man, maybe you’re not interested in paying for dates or taking someone out. If you’re a woman, you may be focused on long-term goals or self-love, working on your boundaries so you don’t exhaust yourself with over-giving, especially if you’ve been a people pleaser in the past.

Some of you are also very focused on your career. You might be working on a master’s degree, completing a program, or trying to secure the job you want. Others might be struggling with unemployment, which leaves little mental space for dating. You’re focused on applying for jobs, preparing for interviews, or just figuring out how to establish yourself in your current city. You’re investing in your future, growing your finances, and prioritizing self-care, even if that includes focusing on health and wellness.

I also sense that you’re closed off at the moment. It’s almost like you’re serious and a bit boring right now, and it’s not giving off those passionate, romantic vibes. Instead, it feels more like a routine of work, setting goals, managing your health, and saving money. You’re being very disciplined and sticking to your plans. You may have high standards when it comes to love, and that’s why the people who approach you just aren’t meeting your expectations. You’re thinking long-term—marriage, owning a home, building a life together—and the people around you don’t seem serious enough.

You’re also busy juggling multiple responsibilities, and the last thing you want to do right now is introduce love into an already hectic life. You’re focused on the future and thinking about how love will fit into your life when the time is right. You’re wondering what kind of person will be able to align with the lifestyle you want to live, and right now, it doesn’t seem like love is a priority.

I also see you gaining more confidence. As your standards and boundaries grow stronger, you’re no longer willing to let people just come into your life without offering anything substantial. You can tell when someone is only interested in a one-night stand or a casual fling, and you’re not allowing that anymore. You’re focused on having a successful, long-lasting relationship, and you’re working on yourself to make that happen. You’re hitting your personal goals, whether they involve career, health, or finances, and that growth is boosting your confidence.

However, the relationships you’ve been dealing with haven’t been working out. You might have been talking to people who ghosted you, or situations that seemed promising ended up fizzling out. Maybe you didn’t get closure from past relationships or had a rocky ending that’s still affecting you. It’s been a difficult cycle where attempts at love have either led to ghosting or situations that just didn’t feel right. Now, you’re focusing on healing and building confidence, and you’re shifting your focus away from love because it hasn’t been working out for you. You’re learning to trust yourself and your boundaries, but for now, it seems like you’re better off staying focused on your personal goals rather than trying to force something that hasn’t been aligned.

For Pile 2, I think it’s going to be a while before you’re in anything stable in terms of a relationship. I’m going to be honest with you; that’s what I’m seeing. It looks like many of you have your hearts closed off. A lot of you are dealing with a cold, frozen heart, unwilling to budge on opening up or being vulnerable. Some of you are completely resistant to being vulnerable and reciprocating love. You’re pulling away from love and from the idea of opening your heart.

I see a few things happening here. Some of you may experience flings, and while the reading suggests you’re struggling with being single right now and that situations aren’t working out the way you want, I do think you will have some fun, thrilling, and exciting moments. These flings might happen during travel, possibly when you’re traveling for work or school, or even during a hike in nature. There’s potential for meeting someone during these moments. The relationship will be adventurous but unreciprocal in terms of emotional connection. One person will be more invested than the other—one will be all in, while the other remains emotionally distant, detached, and unwilling to be vulnerable.

The relationship might be passionate, but it will be intense in a chaotic, fleeting way, like popcorn popping in the microwave—exciting, but also loud and disruptive. I don’t see this becoming a committed relationship because of the imbalance in feelings. It will have a spontaneous energy, and it may catch you off guard when you meet this person, like when you’re commuting, hiking, or traveling.

Despite the passion, this relationship will involve a lot of growth and development, but also significant issues. You’ll argue and fight a lot, and you won’t see eye to eye. There may be jealousy between the two of you—one person’s success or achievements might cause envy, or the coldness of one might trigger frustration in the other. There could also be a lack of emotional depth, where one of you is seeking more while the other remains detached.

Unfortunately, I don’t see a committed relationship in your near future. I see more situationships—unreciprocal crushes or even exes who come back, but there’s still no real understanding or resolution. These relationships may cause drama in your life, but ultimately, they won’t be compatible or lead to commitment.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

For Pile 3, oh my gosh, I see so many different energies. I feel like right now, you guys are healing from a really bad ex—someone who came into your life like a whirlwind, shook you to the core, and brought a lot of chaos. You argued, fought, made up, broke up, came back together, and they broke down your self-esteem. They played mind games with you, manipulated you, and now you’re just like, “I just want peace.” You want a peaceful life. You want to live in a cottage, on a farm, far away from humanity. You want to bask in the sun’s rays, bathe in fresh spring water, cuddle up with a puppy, and bake pies all day. That’s the energy I’m getting for you.

There’s a lot to unpack here. First off, you definitely came from something very toxic. Someone was playing mind games with you. They were on and off, stonewalling you, gaslighting you. For some women, it may have even involved domestic violence. You might have been highly dependent on this person, but they weren’t helping you succeed in life. Instead, they were holding you back. They caused you to fail and even go into debt. You were losing money, and your mental and emotional state were deteriorating. You were going crazy dealing with them. This person could have left you at a time when you really needed them, when you needed a compassionate, loving, and supportive person, but they just weren’t there for you. It crushed your heart and soul.

But now it seems like you’re coming to a better place. You’re leaving that person behind, and now you’re just sitting back, maybe drinking tea in your rocking chair, minding your own business. You don’t want to go back to that situation. A lot of you were with someone who never wanted to work with you. There was bad teamwork. If you have a child with this person, you did most of the caregiving and financial support. This person gave very little to you, your child, or the situation. They were hard to work with and probably thought they knew better than you. But working together could have helped. Unfortunately, they refused to listen, refused to communicate properly, and refused to offer any mutual support.

At this point, you just want to break free. You’re in a place of peace, and you don’t want to be bothered. This person caused so much disharmony in your life, and they didn’t have any real plans to make things work. They were only focused on quick fixes, not on getting to the root of the problem or healing the situation. As I mentioned, this person could have left you financially strained, and you were constantly depending on them, but they were broke and couldn’t help. This was a relationship built on crumbs—an attachment that kept you together, not love. The emotional connection had been drained, and there was coldness, resentment, bitterness, and a complete lack of mutual support, love, or compassion.

So I think you’ve recently walked away from a toxic relationship or situation, and now you’re just living for yourself. You can’t be bothered to do anything but enjoy simple pleasures like baking cinnamon rolls from scratch, watching the rain fall, and drinking coffee. I understand why you’re in this peaceful place because you’ve been through so much. And now, you’re growing and moving in a new direction. You’re focused on your personal growth, on new adventures, and new things to experience. You’re embracing the new and leaving the old behind.

Your confidence is growing, and with that, your happiness is growing too. There’s nothing that can take that away from you now. Not only do you have more energy now, but you also have more clarity. When you were with that person, you felt like a shell of yourself, but now you’re feeling reinvigorated. Your confidence is rising, and you’re starting to look at yourself differently. You have a lot of goals, and you’re making changes to your lifestyle. You’re glowing up and bossing up, becoming the person you always were, but that toxic situation was holding you back.

Being single and detached from that person is allowing you to flourish. You’re spreading your wings and seeing life differently. You’re more optimistic, more energetic, and more confident. You’re tackling tasks that once felt daunting, and you’ve had many proud moments lately, from the things you’ve accomplished since leaving that situation. There’s a song called Do Better that resonates with this reading, and it perfectly describes what you’re going through. It says, “Look at you doing way better without him. Look at you living.” And that’s exactly what you’re doing now—living.

As you enter the new year, you’ll do so with your head held high. I respect you for who you are and all the changes you’ve gone through. It’s admirable to see how far you’ve come. You’re resilient, and your bounce back is incredible. That person has to miss out because they put you through a lot. But now you’re overcoming it and rising above what they did to you. You’re not letting it hold you down. You’re maturing and moving forward, and I see you making progress, getting to the bag, and attracting better things. Keep up the great work.

I feel that for at least a year—maybe more—you’re going to be single, not actively dealing with anyone. During this time, you’ll focus on rebuilding your life and rediscovering who you are. Your head may feel cloudy as you try to figure things out, as you’re still healing from the past situation. Although you’re moving forward, you’re also somewhat stuck because that past relationship left a deep impact. It will take time to fully heal, and you might not feel ready to seriously date again for a while. You’ll likely be wary of diving into a new relationship, fearing it might turn out the same way as the last one. Your main focus will be on other areas of your life, as you’re not in a rush to pursue love right now.

You may feel that your passion for love and romance has burned out, and you’ll avoid situations that could turn toxic, chaotic, or full of arguments. For a while, you may not even know what you want in a relationship or who you want to be with. But I do feel that after a year or more, you��ll meet someone new. This person will want to marry you. They’ll be serious about building a stable, long-lasting relationship with you. As you get to know each other, they’ll demonstrate their commitment not only through words but through actions. They’ll show you that they’re there for you, supporting you emotionally and physically. They’ll give you lots of affection and romantic gestures, and this relationship will lead to marriage.

So for now, take your time, enjoy your single life, and continue healing. Love will find you when the time is right.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒

Oh my gosh, so the first thing I got is that someone is not wanting commitment in your life. Maybe it’s someone currently in your life that you have your eye on or someone you’re dealing with in a situation, but they don’t want commitment—or maybe you don’t. Either way, there’s a lack of commitment in this situation and a lack of movement. Somebody might be struggling with confidence here.

I see for some of you that either you or the person you’re dealing with is struggling with confidence when it comes to pursuing a person. Maybe you’re very reserved, shy, and hesitant to put yourself out there. You don’t want to be obvious or assertive. When you find someone you like, you’re subtle. You don’t express yourself directly or approach them. Instead, you stay in the background, waiting for them to make a move. You’re on the receptive end, and that’s what I’m picking up.

Yes, it seems to me there’s an unreciprocated situation. That’s the energy I’m getting. Either you’re in a connection with someone right now, and you’re confused, they’re confused, and the whole situation is confused, or you’re single and ready for a relationship, but nothing is happening—it’s stuck.

Because this energy feels confusing, I’m breaking this reading down into two parts: one for people who are single and one for people who are currently talking to someone.

For people who are single:

It seems like you’re ready for a relationship. You’re in a good emotional place. There’s no chaos happening in your life. You’re ready to talk, to spark a conversation, and to be intellectually stimulated. You want someone who is willing to give just as much as you’re willing to give. You want someone who reciprocates your energy, brings peace into your life, and allows you to explore and enjoy life.

You really want someone who is honest, straightforward, and open. You don’t want someone who hides behind smoke and mirrors. You’re looking for someone fun, someone with a bit of sparkle and energy who keeps things fresh. You don’t want someone boring or predictable. You want someone who switches up their routine, who’s spontaneous. You want someone who, on a Monday, might go to work, and on a Friday, decides to go on an adventure in a different town. You want someone who’s down to say, “Let’s go get drinks on a Wednesday,” or “Let’s go on a hike on Sunday.”

You want someone who is fun, exciting, and spiritual. That’s what you’re really wanting right now because you’re in a space where you’re ready to meet someone like that. You’re ready to match that energy, and you want someone who will reciprocate it.

However, for the single people in this pile, I feel like you’re just not getting anyone coming your way. It seems like everyone’s scared to approach you or to talk to you. You’re over here like, “Come on over!” but they’re over there like, “No, I want you to come over here!” There’s a bit of a stalemate. You’re ready to meet someone, but the people around you aren’t meeting you where you’re at.

It’s not that you’re a bad person or doing something wrong. In fact, you’re amazing. You know how to communicate, you’re fun, and you’re ready for adventure. You’re in a peaceful stage of your life, and you’re very nurturing, giving, compassionate, and honest. But despite all of that, you’re just not getting the attention you’re looking for or attracting the right people.

The people who are interested in you might not be the people you want, and the ones you want aren’t showing up. You also don’t want to go on dating sites or meet anyone online. You really want to meet someone face-to-face. But right now, it feels like nobody is grabbing your attention.

For people who are currently talking to someone:

If you’re talking to someone, it seems like you want all these amazing things in a partner—honesty, emotional connection, commitment—but the person you’re dealing with doesn’t seem to want the same things.

You feel like there’s potential with this person. You think the relationship could elevate into something meaningful, with love, compassion, and commitment. But this person doesn’t want to commit. They’re refusing to come your way and give you what you want.

Even though you’re honest and clear with them, they may not be giving you the same clarity in return. They might not know what they want, or they might just know that they don’t want to commit. They could be avoiding the serious conversations you want to have.

This person might be against marriage, or they may not want to get in their feelings. They like what you do for them, but they’re not thinking about moving the relationship to the next level. They could also be taking you for granted, assuming that you’ll always be there no matter what. So, they don’t feel the need to put in any work.

At the end of the day, this person isn’t prioritizing your needs or the relationship. You might feel like you’re holding on to hope that things will change, but this person isn’t showing signs of wanting the same level of commitment or emotional bond that you’re looking for.

For this group, I don’t see love happening for you anytime soon. It seems that many of you may be unsure about what you truly want or are stuck in a state of limbo, uncertain about how to approach a love situation. As a result, I think a lot of you will be stepping away from love for a while.

There are major changes on the horizon for you. These changes could involve losing someone important, whether it’s a friend or a situation you thought would grow but didn’t go anywhere. You’re going to go through a significant transformation in the future, which will bring endings. However, with those endings, there will also be an opportunity for healing.

I see a lot of healing in your future, but I don’t foresee a committed relationship coming your way anytime soon. Instead, there will be big life changes and a period of introspection where you might feel indecisive or unclear about what you want in love. You might not fully understand your feelings toward another person, or you could encounter fleeting connections—short-lived and superficial, almost like “smoke and mirrors.”

As these endings occur, a new chapter will open in your life, centered around healing and moving forward. While there may not be any immediate or long-term commitments in your future right now, this healing period will help you gain clarity. It will give you the space to decide what you truly want from relationships and to set higher standards for love moving forward.

Though this may feel disheartening, know that this phase is part of life’s journey, and it’s preparing you for something greater down the line. I hope this healing stage brings you clarity, strength, and self-awareness.

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n30n-l1ghts · 7 months ago

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Tokyo revengers basic NSFW headcannons pt. 2

Characters- Taiju, Inui, Koko, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Izana, Shinichiro, Wakasa, Benkei, Takeomi

Read the first part here

Proofread by my lovely partner @nxll-n4m3

Taiju-

Chat I think we know. I think we KNOW this man has a MONSTER cock chat. Ain't nobody arguing that. He's 6'5" and built like a fucking 18 wheeler, yeah no question he's hung. 8.7. and I KNOW that's unethical. Trust me, he knows it too. And he'd be more cocky about it if it didn't dissuade almost everyone from even attempting to take that. I feel like he wouldn't have much, if any experience. I can see him sleeping around a teensy bit to relieve stress and then getting really guilty about it. But then again, he's a very pious man, so I can also absolutely see him saving himself for marriage (though he might cheat a teensy bit with oral or mutual masturbation) speaking of which, this man is SO guilty about falling for a guy. You're gonna have to deal with the world's most internalized homophobe ever. Religious trauma is a hell of a thing. A swift topic change, grooming. I don't see him caring much, but he will tidy it up a bit if you want him to. All while very loudly grumble curses under his breath of course. Long, thick, black and surprisingly not all that curly.

Seishu-

He gives me the vibe of someone who can be surprisingly subby if he trusts you enough. But he'd need to REALLY trust you to be that vulnerable in your presence. He's absolutely a switch and I don't think he actually has much of a preference, apart from the fact that he's more top and dom leaning the less he knows you. Then again, he has to trust you a fair amount to get into bed with you anyways, this boy does not sleep around even a little. Actually he hates the idea and finds it a little scumbaggy. As for physical description, pretty middle of the road both in size and grooming. 6.2-3, absolutely a grower and not a shower. His cock is the same really pale colour as his skin. He keeps himself a little tidy down south, but can't be bothered to give it more than a trim every now and again. Wispy and blonde, honestly looks almost white in the right lighting.

Koko-

Fancy rich boy smells like fancy rich soap and fancy rich cologne. Nah jk, that man wears perfume not cologne, and honestly, more power to him, he pulls it the fuck off. I think he's very cleanly. Clean, orderly, and fancy shmancy. Tell me why I think he'd own stupid expensive lingerie? I know he would. He swears up down and sideways the first time you find them that they're not for him to wear (they totally are). Pretty big toy collection too, can't convince me otherwise. This man needs his ass ate, I don't make the rules, I just work here. He NEEDS IT. He's super clean down there so it's not gross or anything, and it's just about his favorite activity. In other words, eat the rich- (who said that-) decent 5.7, not particularly large, but enough to get the job done. He's another one I feel like honestly might prefer being clean shaven. He might have a small tuft of curly black hairs, but it would definitely be meticulously kept as he can't stand the feeling of too much hair down there, it annoys him to no end.

Ran-

Biggest tease. BIGGEST TEASE. Brat. BRAT. He's a switch, but by God is he a pain in the ass as a bottom. He doesn't know the meaning of the word submit. He will get on your nerves and try to provoke you until you're fed up and just bend him over the nearest surface. Lowkey gives me the vibe of an exhibitionist. Like, semi-public sex would turn him on so much. Drag him into a bathroom or random alleyway and he'll pop an instant boner. Definitely a brat taming kink and it goes both ways, it's just whoever feels like putting the other in their place, he's cool with it either way. Pull his hair, wrap your hand around his throat, he's a lil freaky freak like that. Really though, an experimentalist, he's willing to try damn near anything at least twice. Definitely has a fair amount of experience, total fuckboy over here. He has a revolving door of guys and gals that want to get in those pants. It's really not that hard to do, what is hard to do is get into that heart. (Cheesy I know) But seriously, if you somehow manage to actually bag this man, you have him under lock and key and he's yours forever, loyal as a dog despite what you might think. Probably about 6.10ish maybe pushing 7" when fully erect. Man's is six feet tall, he's got some length to him, just saying. I feel like he would stay on top of grooming pretty alright, largely because of how much he likes to sleep around, he needs to be presentable down there at all times just in case he randomly bags a hottie while he's out. After getting into a relationship, he's a bit more indifferent to it, but still likes to keep it a little tidy for your sake.

Rindou-

A lot of people assume he's also a fuckboy because of Ran, he's not, and that assumption actually bugs him a lot. He finds sleeping around to be pointless and stupid, and he lowkey kind of silently judges Ran for it. He's a sadistic assholes that loves mocking your whining. At least in the bedroom, he's surprisingly sweet otherwise and just in general. But that same sadistic side that shows when he's fighting shows through during sex. I feel like he might bottom with some convincing, but he'll also be a brat. (A brat that sobs openly when edged enough) However he'll do the same to you when things are the other way around. To my masochistic brothers, here's your man. He's safe and consensual about it, maybe periodically checking up on you but he will absolutely pull your hair, bite you, whip you, spank you, slap you, hell maybe even spit on you if that's your thing. He's a pretty big S&M guy in general, but is the world's biggest enthusiast of *safely* practicing bdsm. Informed consent is key with this man (as it fucking should be). He's the type who likes music in the background, but he is willing to let you choose the music. He can go without, but he prefers it with. 6.7 in length I feel like sounds about right for him. He may or may not decide to actually groom down there, no real guarantee, it depends on the day and how he feels. I headcannon him to be borderline or straight up gender fluid, swapping between cis masc and enby. Some days he prefers it with a little bush and other days he's just like "No. No this cannot do, it must go." So, y'know- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Sanzu-

Oh, where do I even start with this batshit crazy bastard of a druggie (He's just like me frfr). Admittedly, probably doesn't sleep around much, even though he tries. His crazy scares almost everyone away, if the scars didn't already do the trick (wanna know how I got these scars lookin' headass) but honestly, you probably met him at a bar or a club, and he was probably flirting with you because he's high as shit. I can't see him easily getting into a relationship, but when he does he's absolutely infatuated. Devoted. You are his god. It's almost unsettling how far he's willing to go for you. That also translates into the bedroom. He has his preferences, (AHEM body worship) but assuming he truly does love you and it's not just some spur of the moment one nighter, he's more than willing to do anything, and I mean ANYTHING to please you. No kink too nasty or too far for him. He'll do that in everyday life too. If want him to buy something for you, legal or illegal, he'll do it. He'll make it happen. You hate someone, or someone getting creepy on you? They suddenly go *cough cough* "missing". He loves him some high sex, but I can see him wanting to be at least mostly sober during sex if you're dating. To savor the experience, really. He would totally get high after though. Snorting lines after sex is his go to. A little on the smaller side-ish, maybe around 5.4 or so. But he can use it pretty well if he's sober. He gets sloppy and borderline animalistic when high. He does not care AT ALL about grooming, but again he'd blow up the sun for you if he truly loves you, so he'd do it before you could finish blinking if you ever asked him to.

Izana-

Our favorite half Filipino boy right here. First things first. Sensitive. This man is so incredibly starved for attention and love, he can handle the hardest punches like a champ, but if you lightly and lovingly trace his skin, he's gone. He's dead, putty in your hands. His mind buffers like he's running on widows xp with dial up. He cannot compute this. Rough sex he's fine with, it's probably what he's used to, what he's comfortable with. But soft, gentle, slow sex? It's gonna take a minute to build up to that point. But seriously, hold this man like he's made of glass for a minute, he needs it. He'll complain about it, but he loves it. He so desperately needs someone to show him that sunshine and rainbows even exist at all. He's possesive too. If you show him an ounce of affection, he'll demand gallons and will never let anyone near you. Because how dare you even consider showing anyone else that same affection? It's like how he hates Mikey because of his jealousy over Shinichiro. Anyone who he deems to be a threat, he'll hate them (he's borderlining yandere) Really he's just jealous because he's insecure, give him reassurance and he'll calm down. Well, somewhat. I can imagine him being pretty middle of the road, 5.8 would be my guess. Another type who doesn't pay much mind to his grooming down there, especially in the time skip. Much like Sanzu, this man damn near worships you, so yeah, he'd start manscaping in a heartbeat if you wanted him to. Just ask and he'll do it. Main difference is with Sanzu you 100% have to tell him verbally or he'll never pick up on. Izana may or may not notice if you dislike it, still better to just tell him though. (Communication is good chat, talk to your partners jfc)

Shinichiro-

Awkward dork. Total dweeb and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. He's a loser and a lame-o, and we all love him for it. He's so babygirl coded fr. He will do everything in his power to please you (and probably fail miserably) whether in the bedroom or not. He tries though, his heart is in the right place and that's what counts. Though he can get a little dejected and self conscious about it, so you just have to remind him that it doesn't bother you and that he's fine the way he is. Please tell him he's fine the way he is. He's tried to dirty talk once before, but ended up stuttering and then became self aware halfway through, visibly cringing because let's be honest, whatever he said was probably pretty cringy. But it just wound up in both of you laughing about it, both in the moment, and looking back on it later. But he does really love you, and it shows in everything he does. I feel like he'd really like cuddle fucking and missionary. Really, he just wants to feel close to you. He likes to be able to hug you while you fuck. He can't dirty talk for the life of him as previously discussed, so he's usually not very verbal, only really moaning out curses or your name. Don't get me wrong, he's vocal, just not verbal. Occasionally when he's in the mood for a more rough type of encounter, he can and will turn into a babbling mess underneath you. However, if you dirty talk to him at all, he will absolutely lose his mind and go beet red, hiding his face in your chest or the crook of your neck. This boy loves nothing more than looking into your eyes, carresing you and kissing you during sex. He's a hopeless romantic is what he is. Actually decently long, 7.6, makes sense, he's over six foot. I feel like he'd definitely try to groom down there when you're dating, but he might fuck up a little and nick himself a couple times. But as always, hell make an effort to look his best and do his best for you.

Wakasa-

Ahem. Point to the best ass eater please?

👉w a k a s a i m a u s h i👈

But seriously. This man's tongue is magical (yes I'm biased, he's my fav leave me tf alone) but really, he gives me the vibe of someone who knows what he's doing. He's got experience and ✨talent✨ in regards to sexy time. And he's strong enough to toss your ass around like a raggedy anne doll, even despite how short he is. C'mon, he's owns a gym and he absolutely kicks ass in a fight, you cannot convince me he couldn't throw me like a tennis ball (I want him to so badly.) Stoner vibes. Hardcore stoner vibes. This man is constantly at least a little buzzed and he's absolutely a plug. You cannot convince me otherwise, I won't listen. This shit is gospel. I feel like he'd be willing to put in some effort for his s/o, but he's a total pillow princess at heart. Whether you're riding him or railing him, as long as he feels good and doesn't have to do shit, he's a happy boy. Really he's just spoiled, doesn't feel like working for a damn thing. He'll get really pouty if you make him beg or work for it, but if you torment and torture him enough he'll comply eventually. Waka is another body worshiper I feel like. Sure, he's a pillow princess, but he likes to have his hands roaming every inch of you at all possible times. His hands and his lips. The softest touches paired with the softest kisses, peppered all over your skin because he just can't get over how perfect you are to him. If you've read my Akihiko x Stoner reader fic, I can imagine that type of scenario. You riding him or him riding you while you share a blunt, just hotboxing yourselves in your room with slow, lazy sex, all of your sense through the damn roof. Another music lover, just something soft and really chill in the background, even better when paired with a good blunt. He's touchy in general when he's high, always having to have contact with you, and he just can't keep himself off of you, same applies to the bedroom, always caressing you without even realizing it. He's packing a relatively solid 5.6. not shabby considering that he's five foot fucking three. Short king, but we love him anyways. I SAID WE STAND WITH OUR SHORT KINGS. He strikes me as the type who grooms semi-frequently, but doesn't obsess about it. He's a lazy guy, but at the same time he doesn't like to be gross y'know? He maintains it, but it's the bare minimum.

Benkei-

Gentle giant, anyone? Because that's what he is. At least when he's with you. Sure, he's only 6'2", but he's pretty fucking wide too. That, and his overall demeanour and personality just gives him the vibe of a big guy. Despite his strength and his tendency to have a hot temper sometimes, he's surprisingly gentle with you. Of course, that's unless you ask him not to be. He'd never dare lay a hand on you in everyday life, but the bedroom has different rules as we all know. He's a big fan of setting up concrete and mutually agreed upon boundaries, and there always has to be a safe word. (Honestly how it should be) Even if you don't have a consent kink, it is undeniabley impressive how hot he can make asking you for verbal consent. He needs explicit verbal consent each time, and absolutely refuses to do anything if either of you are even a little intoxicated unless it was previously discussed. He's such a gentleman in that respect honestly. He'll always listen to your preferences and prioritize your needs first. Even if your into that freaky shit and he's telling you he's just using you as a cock sleeve, really he's always chasing your pleasure more than his own. It's just how he rolls. 7.10, and I will not elaborate. That seems pretty appropriate for him, honestly. He likes to have a bush, but he likes to keep it well kept and trimmed, like how he keeps his beard quite orderly. So there is a tuft of hair down there, black or white, I'm not sure (his natural hair colour isn't confirmed, but I doubt he'd bother dying it.) and it is very well kept. Manscaping is just a part of his everyday routine, same as maintaining his facial hair, he doesn't even think twice about it anymore.

Takeomi-

Another slightly awkward dork, but he tries to pretend he's all confident. May or may not lie about how much experience he has. He might tell you he's slept around a fair bit and dated a lot of people to impress you, but it's obvious he hasn't by how nervous he gets around you. He desperately tried to hide his nervousness too. We all know he's greedy and can get a little self obsessed at times. And I can see why that might make you think that he'd be too much of a narcissist to be a good partner, and I'd say you're only about a quarter right. Yes, having a partner like you would absolutely go to his head a bit. He thinks you're like the best person to ever grace this earth, so he thinks it's a major flex that you'd choose *him* of all people. He would absolutely show you off like some kind of trophy, number one hype man right here. You become his source of pride, next to his gang. I fully believe he's another straight up worshipping type, he thinks you're way too good for him, and as a result hails you like some kind of god and will flaunt you with pleasure. Though if close enough to him, he might be more willing to be vulnerable around you and admit to his overwhelming insecurities and lack of self esteem. It's no secret that his sense of self worth is derived from achievements and material possessions, which is just a tad bit of an issue. Just a tad. This all 100% translates into the bedroom. Tries so hard and fails so miserably to act confident. He'd be more likely to top especially towards the beginning because he feels he has something to prove, he feels that he needs to be more dominant just to show you he cares. But with some time, discussion and a fuckload of reassurance, he'd be willing to bottom. May or may not feel a bit emasculated by it though. Could be a bit of a whiner/whimperer, but again, it takes him a minute to be that comfortable. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just really doesn't want you to think less of him. Same thing applies to grooming. The only reason he even tries is because he wants to look halfway decent for you. He wants to impress and come across as though he cares. If he cares for himself that makes it seem like he's more capable of caring for you, right? Well, that's his logic anyways. Likes to keep a decent sized tuft of hair because it makes him feel more masculine. Pretty well kept though if I'm being honest, he does a halfway decent job.

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sunkissedsentry · 8 days ago

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Spellbound

Bob Reynolds x Goth!Reader

Summary: Bob sees someone he used to know while at a bar with his new friends, someone who was there for him when nobody else was, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it. Bob decides it’s now or never, never wanting to be without her again. (Bob and goth!reader were highschool sweethearts for years til she ended up in the hospital and was forced to move back with her parents under suicide watch.)

Warnings: (mentions/description of past of the following: self harm, suicidal ideation, mental institution, drug abuse, addiction) past/established relationship, rekindling old flame, reader is a singer in a goth cover band, being each others first and only, bob doesn’t drink, kissing, slight angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 2,446

A/N: if this gets popular i’d love to do a second part, probably smut or something along those lines! just really wanted to do a goth reader lol, and the song inspo is Spellbound by Siouxsie and the Banshees :) this is my first time writing bob so pls be nice

—

Why he decided to let Yelena drag him to this dingy bar was beyond him, he didn’t even drink. She had insisted it would be good for him to get out of the tower but this felt anything other than good. His sweater was too itchy, the air was too thick, everything smelled like alcohol, and possibly worst of all, the tables were unbelievably sticky. Not even the ice cold Dr. Pepper in his hands was all that good.

These past few months after everything that happened have been difficult. Adjusting to a new home, gaining newfound trauma, dealing with old trauma, all while working to stay sober. It was weighing on him worse and worse, but he couldn’t deny he was doing better than he was before. It was a different struggle, a better struggle, one that seemed worth it at the end of the day. Still though, he often caught himself dreaming of an old life, in particular a person from before.

You. With your dark hair, black nails, and endless amounts of twisted jewelry, it all haunted him like a shadow, but not like the void. A shadow that felt like closing the blinds after a long day in the sun, a shadow that felt like curling up in black sheets for a nap, a shadow that felt like home. He had told Yelena all about you.

About how you were his first everything, first kiss, first love, first girlfriend. What he didn’t say was that he knew you would be his only, even just the thought of being with someone new made his skin crawl. He was sure that if he never got to make his way back to you, to show you how good things have gotten— how good he could be for you— then he would never love again. It was melodramatic, but it was true.

He told her about when you met in high school, you had just moved to his home town when you were both juniors. He told her about going to prom with you, about your black lacy dress that drove him insane. He told her about when you got your apartment together, about everything you did for him as his addiction got worse. How patient, despite how difficult it got. He told her about how you got ripped apart, about how everything went even further downhill for him. When he found you, splayed out on the bathroom floor, blood running down your arms, he told her all of it. About how the doctors told him he couldn’t take care of you, that you couldn’t take care yourself. It tore him apart watching your parents take you away, getting every letter he sent returned back, unopened. He knew it wasn’t you doing it, but it hurt all the same.

That was when it got worse, so much worse. That was when he got arrested. That was when he decided to go to Malaysia, because if he couldn’t have you, at the very least, he could get better for you. Or find a drug that’ll finally get rid of him. He wasn’t sure why he told her everything, but it felt like he needed to. Like maybe if he wasn’t the only one who knew about how he still felt for you, maybe it would bring you back into his life. Maybe you would find each other again.

Staring at the dingy, sticky table in front of him wasn’t going to bring you back though. He wasn’t even sure what he would say if he did. ‘Hi, I got turned into a blonde super soldier, but I’m better now’? How could he even begin to explain all that’s happened since leaving Florida? A sigh wracks his body as he slouches further down into the bar stool he’s sitting on. Yelena rolls her eyes as she drinks another swig of straight vodka, it almost made him wretch just watching it. Ever since he became sober, he hasn’t wanted to have even a drop of alcohol. The thought of anything clouding his judgment makes him queasy.

“What is going on, Bob? You have been sulking the whole night.” She groans and leans back against the wall next to him, he turns his head to watch Ava, who came with them, hit on a redheaded woman beside Yelena. “You are like… bringing down the mood, no offense.”

Bob rolls his eyes and shakes his head, like the mood is any of his fault when this bar is the loudest, dirtiest bar he’s ever been in. He takes a swig of his pop, letting the now empty can tink against the tabletop. Yelena’s eyebrows shoot up, like she’s had some sort of ‘Ah-Ha!’ moment.

“Ooh… I know what it is.” She nods her head in confirmation, twirling the rings around her finger in a soothing sort of motion. “You are missing your little mistress of the dark.”

He groans at the nickname for you and lets his head hang back in exasperation. He had put an Elvira poster up above his bed because he had seen it in a store and it made him think of you, and since he didn’t have any of the old polaroids of you, it seemed like a good idea. That is, until Yelena snuck into his room to steal a book, saw the poster and laughed so loud it made birds fly away outside the tower. She hasn’t let it go since.

“What? There is nothing wrong with liking Elvira! Beautiful lesbian icon— not that your girl is a lesbian, just that Elvira— eh, you know what I mean.” Yelena rambles before throwing a hand up in defeat, Bob almost wants to laugh. She looks at him seriously suddenly, her boot tapping against his leg. “C’mon man, tell me what’s up.”

He sighs again, back slouching farther forward, hands fidgeting with the long-empty pop can. “I just miss her. Wish I could’ve gotten sober for her before, or at the very least get to be sober for her now, but I’m not sure if that’ll ever happen.”

After he says this, a live band begins setting up in a dim corner of the bar. Yelena and him pay it no mind though. Yelena leans forward, pieces of her meticulously slicked hair falling out of place, she rests a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“Never say never, Bob.” She gives him a tight-lipped smile, and a well meaning nod, but it does little to relieve him of the pit in his chest. All he’s really grateful for right now is that he hasn’t lost control and voided the entire city again, because the longer he seems to go on, the pain and the distance just seem to keep growing. He almost says this to her when suddenly a familiar, melodic, melancholic voice begins singing on stage.

From the cradle bars, comes a beckoning voice. It sends you spinning, you have no choice!

Bob almost falls off his stool with the speed at which he whips around to face the stage. He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he’s close to bursting out into tears. As his eyes fall on the stage, he sees you, clad in a black velvet dress. There’s about three different necklaces hanging on your neck, accentuating the deep V of the dress, and your black witches boots accentuate the slit up the side. Your a vision in onyx and it takes the breath from his lungs, he doesn’t even hear Yelena calling for him as he feels compelled to get closer to the stage. You’re still singing, it’s enchanted him.

Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance, we are entranced! Spellbound! Spellbound!

The way you move your body is slow and hypnotic, your arms twirling upward and your hips circling slowly. He’s seen you dance like this before but now, now it’s so much more than it was. More beautiful than anything he’s ever seen before, more meaningful than any words could ever be. He’s never been a dancer, but watching you, hearing you, it makes him want to be. Even as you finish your opening song, he can’t seem to find his breath again, heart pounding in his ears.

Entranced, entranced. Entranced, entranced. Entranced, entranced!

He’s never felt more connected to that word than now. Everything he ever loved before is stood before him and he can’t seem to move. He’s both thankful and petrified when your eyes meet his. Your dark makeup more prominent as your eyebrows screw up in surprise, and what looks to be confusion, pain even. Yelena tugs at his sleeve suddenly, and the electricity between you is severed. Your eyes fix themselves on the middle of the crowd and you avoid his gaze, it hurts but he feels it’s the least of what he deserves. Though, he’s not sure why.

“Why did you leave—“

“It’s her.” He blurts out, cutting Yelena off even though he knows how much she hates that. He can’t help it, he needs her to know it’s you. He needs her to see you, because he needs to know if it’s real. If you’re actually there and it’s not just some beautiful fever dream from stewing in this humid bar for too long. She looks up and her mouth goes slack.

“Oh, my God.” She whispers, hands coming up to rest at her waist, incredulously. “How the hell did you pull her?”

Bob barely even registers what she said as you turn and stalk off stage, muttering something to your similarly-dressed bassist. Your bassist announces that she’ll be taking over for you on lead vocals, and then you disappear out the back door. He’s terrified of what your thinking right now but he knows if he doesn’t follow you, he may actually never get to see you again. Yelena follows him, Ava squeezing her way through the crowd to finally catch up and ask her what’s going on.

The air of the alley way hits Bob like a train as he swings the back door open. He can hear Yelena explaining the situation to Ava in hushed whispers as he steps into the alley, face to face with you in what feels like decades. You look disappointed and it almost kills him. He wants to pull you in and rub the worry lines out of your eyebrows like he used to before, he squeezes his hands together to stop himself. He knows how hard it is for you to let people in, to let them touch you, and maybe he was close enough before but all of that is gone now.

He’s about to say your name when you interrupt him.

“I went back for you.” You can’t look him in the eye, your voice trembling. “After I got out of the institute, I went back to Florida to find you. You weren’t there.”

It makes him want to break out sobbing, imagining you alone in your previously shared apartment. He hadn’t even told anyone where he was going or what he was doing. You must’ve been worried sick. It all comes crashing down on him now as tears flow freely down his cheeks. He knows Ava and Yelena are watching awkwardly from behind but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He whispers your name like a prayer. He wants to tell you how much he thought of you, everything he wanted for the both of you. He can’t seem to get the words out. It kills him. “So, so much has happened.”

His words are flimsy, wavering even before he says them. He hopes you can hear the sincerity despite the tremor in his voice. He hopes you know how much he missed you, how much he needs you. All that comes out is a weak: “I’m, uh, I’m sober now.”

Through your own tears, a smile eases its way onto your lips. You look at him like he’s the sun, like he’s the only good thing you’ve ever had and he’s just given you a gift. You step forward cautiously, he can’t seem to meet your eye. You reach your hand out for him and he takes it without hesitation.

“I missed you so much. I was so worried.” You pout, eyes overflowing with tears. He looks at you finally, dark blue eyes swimming with so many unsaid words. He hopes you’ll give him a second chance to get to say them.

“I missed you too, every day.” He smiles but it’s coated in so much self doubt it feels sour. Your other hand comes up to touch his cheek gently, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. Your cold hands have never bothered him, he runs hot and he enjoys getting to heat you up. “There’s so much I wanna tell you.”

“Then tell me, and don’t you dare ever disappear again.” There’s a finality to your tone, but it’s not daunting, it feels like coming home. He wants to scream for joy, he kisses you instead. He hears Ava and Yelena enter the bar again. He couldn’t care less.

Your lips are soft and familiar, something he’s missed more than he could say. Your hands gently rub over his chest and neck, like you’re trying to decide if he’s real or not. He moans into your mouth as your deft fingers clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, you always knew what to do to have him breathless. He squeezes your soft hips in his big hands, loving the feel of crushed velvet between his fingers. The belt around your waist bumps against his knuckles like a curse and he wants nothing more that to take off all your clothes and show you just how much he’s missed you, but he pulls back. He watches as you chase after his lips, hoping to feel him for just a second longer.

“I wanna do this right.” He mutters, fingers flexing on your side. His forehead is rested against yours and his ocean-dark eyes are spearing into your soul. It always baffled you how much more melancholic he could be than you, but it was just another thing that drew you to him. “Will you give me another chance? Will you go out with me?”

You almost laughed, to you he had never even lost you. You’ve always known he was the only one for you, all you know now is that you need to do a better job of showing him. You kiss him once more, slow and sensual. You pull back to whisper: “Of course, my love. You’ve always had me.”

#sentry writes #robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts fic #let me know what you think or if you’d like a part two!!#this is my first time writing bob so tell me if u think it’s good :)#bob reynolds #robert reynolds #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*

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chuvstvovanje · 6 months ago

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Headcannon that postcannon Charles doesnt like leaving Edwin alone for long streches of time.

You know the way he did in the beggining of the show, leaving Edwin alone so that Charles could be with Crystal or just giving Edwin space to be with other people(Monty or Niko). I think post-Hell Charles Rowland would feel uneasy about not having Edwin in his line of sight while at the same time not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

Like how in the last episode Edwin is alone and Charles leaves others to pack so he could check up on Edwin, that sort of thing. Or how he was hessitent to follow Crystals plan at first becouse he has to rescue(see) Edwin ( to me it also looks like Charles was so busy rushing to Edwin he didnt noitice Nikos body but that might just be me)

Anyways i think it would be a fun direction to take Charles's characther in. Considering in s1 he is already weary of Edwin spending time with the Cat King, youd get that whole jealousy thing but doubled and mixed in with his feeling of inadequacy as the brawn. But also s1 establishes Charles as being at least partially insecure about their bond: having to correct Edwin whenever Edwin says how Charles would move on quickly and constanty seeking reassurment from edwin about their friendship (ep 1 when he asks what would happen if death came, ep 4 with his fight with the night nurse, seeing Brad and Hunter the best friends as him and Edwin)

And then you also have the reversal of how Edwin was jealous of Charles spending lots of times with Crystal and now Charles is protesting every second Edwin isnt with him. And ofcourse Charles does it from a place of fear and love but Edwin would maybe interpret it the wrong way, who knows?

And, from what the writers have told us, Edwin in s2 spent at least some amount of time flirting with other men (hopefully without Charles lurking in the background) and from what we know from that one cameo Jayden and George did, there was a lot of tension between the boys...

Now im not a writer i didnt write the s2 script or anything, im not saying this is what would have happened in s2 but.... i think the tension might have come from that. From Charles seeing Hell as a traumatic expirience and his PTSD manifesting as his insistence on Edwin not leaving his side, Charles's insecurities and his fear of losing Edwin being at an all time high. While Edwin, who has learnd how to forget Hell, is acting as if nothing happened at all, exploring his sexuality and making new friends in the process.

It would make Charles confront all of the skeletons he's been hiding in the closet but also it would ask the simple question of why is Charles so insecure in their friendship? Why is he constantly mentioning them being best mates? Why does he need it so much? Why is he constantly searching from reassurences that they are best friends?

And for more angst, from Edwins point of view he is doing everything Charles wanted him to do in s1. Hes accepting and letting the dead boy detectives workplace to grow and change, he is being more open and friendlier, he is encouraging Charles friendship/relationship with Crystal and he is no longer playing trauma Olympics at the drop of a hat. So why is Charles so mad? Hes working through his shame and his supiriority complex, hes growing as a person and Charles is still stuck at the staircase.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #charles x edwin #payneland #headcanon #just a headcanon #also i think it would resolve a lot of cryland too #and i do think charles is very insecure about their friendships #but i already have a lengthy post about it #if you pair up this headcannon and my headcannon that Edwin and cat king have sex in that wonky time dimension #and edwin dissapears for 2 days #then what you have is a plot to a really funny but heartwrenching episode #we were robbed #fuck you netflix #not saying this is what would have happened in s2 but yk a girl can dream

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perfectlyvalid49 · 1 year ago

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On being Jewish, and traumatized (It’s been 5 months and I want to talk):

Judaism is a joyous religion. So much of our daily practice is to focus us on the things that are good. I know that there’s a joke that all our holidays can be summed up as “they tried to kill us. We survived – let’s eat!”, and you might think that holidays focused on attempts at killing us might be somber, but they’re really not. Most are celebrated in the sense of, “we’re still here, let’s have a party!” When I think about practicing Judaism, the things I think about make me happy.

But I think a lot of non-Jews don’t necessarily see Judaism the same way. I think in part it’s because we do like to kvetch, but I think a lot of it is because from the outside it’s harder to see the joy, and very easy to see the long history of suffering that has been enacted on the Jewish people. From the inside, it’s very much, “we’re still here, let’s party” and from the outside it’s, “how many times have they tried to kill you? Why are you celebrating? They tried to KILL YOU!”

And I want to start with that because a lot of the rest of this is going to be negative. And I don’t want people to read it and wonder why I still want to be Jewish. I want to be Jewish because it makes me happy. My problem isn’t with being Jewish, it’s with how Jews are treated.

What I really wanted to write about is being Jewish and the trauma that’s involved with that right now.

First, I want to talk about Israeli Jews. I can’t say much here because I’m not Israeli, nor do I have any close friends or family that are Israeli. But if I’m going to be talking about the trauma Jews are experiencing right now, I can’t not mention the fact that Israeli Jews (and Israelis that aren’t Jewish as well, but that’s not my focus here) are dealing with massive amounts of it right now. It’s a tiny country – virtually everyone has a friend or family member that was killed or kidnapped, or knows someone who does. Thousands of rockets have been fired at Israel in the last few months – think about the fact that the Iron Dome exists and why it needs to. Terror attacks are ongoing; I feel like there’s been at least one every week since October. Thousands of people are displaced from their homes, either because of the rocket fire, or because their homes and communities were physically destroyed in the largest pogrom in recent history – the deadliest single day for Jews since the Holocaust ended. If that’s not trauma inducing, I don’t know what is.

And there is, of course, the generational trauma. And I think Jewish generational trauma is interesting because it’s so layered. Because it’s not just the result of one trauma passed down through the generations. Every 50-100 years, antisemitism intensifies, and so very frequently the people experiencing a traumatic event were already suffering from the generational trauma that their grandparents or great grandparents lived through. And those elders were holding the generational trauma from the time before that. And so on.

And because it happens so regularly, there’s always someone in the community that remembers the last time. We are never allowed the luxury of imagining that we are safe. We know what happened before, and we know that it happened again and again and again. And so we know that it only makes sense to assume it will happen in the future. The trauma response is valid. I live in America because my great grandparents lived in Russia and they knew when it was time to get the hell out in the 1900s. And the reason they knew that is because their grandparents remembered the results of the blood libels in the 1850s. How can we heal when the scar tissue keeps us safe?

I look around now and wonder if we’ll need to run. We have a plan. I repeat, my family has a plan for what to do if we need to flee the country due to religious persecution. How can that possibly be normal? And yet, all the Jewish families I know have similar plans. It is normal if you’re Jewish. Every once in a while I see someone who isn’t Jewish talk about making plans to leave because they’re LGBTQ or some other minority and the question always seems to be, “should I make a plan?” It astounds me every time. The Jewish answer is that you need to have a plan and the only question is, “when should I act?” Sometimes our Jewish friends discuss it at play dates. Where will you go? What are the triggers to leave? No one wants to go any earlier then they have to. Everyone knows what the price of holding off too long might be.

I want to keep my children safe. When do I induct them into the club? When do I let my sweet, innocent kids know that some people will hate them for being Jewish? When do I teach them the skills my parents and grandparents taught me? How to pass as white, how to pass as Christian, knowing when to keep your mouth shut about what you believe. When do I tell them about the Holocaust and teach them the game “would this person hide me?” How hard do I have to work to remind them that while you want to believe that a person would hide you, statistically, most people you know would not have? Who is this more traumatic for? Them, to learn that there is hatred in the world and it is directed at them, or me, to have to drive some of the innocence out of my own children’s eyes in order to make sure they are prepared to meet the reality of the world?

And the reality of the world is that it is FULL of antisemitism. There’s a lot of…I guess I’d call it mild antisemitism that’s always present that you just kinda learn to ignore. It’s the sort of stuff that non-Jews might not even recognize as antisemitic until you explain it to them, just little micro-aggressions that you do your best to ignore because you know that the people doing it don’t necessarily mean it, it’s just the culture we live in. It can still hurt though. I like to compare it to a bruise: you can mostly ignore it, but every once in a while something (more blatant antisemitism) will put a bit to much pressure on it and you remember that you were already hurting this whole time.

On top of the background antisemitism, there’s more intense stuff. And usually the most intense, mask off antisemitism comes from the right. This makes sense, in that a lot of right politics are essentially about hating the “other” and what are Jews if not Western civilizations oldest type of “other”? On the one hand, I’ve always been fortunate enough to live in relatively liberal areas so this sort of antisemitism has felt far away and impersonal – they hate everybody, and I’m just part of everybody. On the other hand, until recently I’ve always considered this the most dangerous source of antisemitism. This is the antisemitism that leads to hate crimes, that leads to synagogue shootings. This is the reason why my synagogue is built so that there is a long driveway before you can even see the building, and that driveway is filled with police on the high holidays. This is the reason why my husband and I were scared to hang a mezuzah in our first apartment (and second, and third). For a long time, this was the antisemitism that made me afraid.

But the left has a problem with antisemitism too. And it has always been there. Where the right hates the “other”, the left hates the “privileged/elite/oppressors.” It’s the exact same thing, just dressed up with different words. They all mean “other” and “other” means “Jew.” It hurts more coming from the left though. A lot of Jewish philosophy leans left. A lot of Jews lean left. So when the left decides to hate us, it isn’t a random stranger, it’s a friend, and it feels like a betrayal.

One of the people I follow works for Yad Vashem, and a few weeks ago she mentioned a video they have with testimonies from people who came to Israel after Kristallnacht, with an unofficial title of “The blow came from within.” The idea is that to non-German Jews, the Holocaust was something done by strangers. It was still terrible, but it is easier to bear the hate of a stranger – it’s not personal. But to German Jews, the Holocaust was a betrayal. It wasn’t done by strangers, it was done by coworkers, and neighbors and people they thought were friends. It was done by people who knew them, and still looked at them and said, “less than human.” And because of this sense of betrayal, German survivors, or Germans who managed to get out before they got rounded up, had a very different experience than other Holocaust victims.

And I feel like a lot of left leaning Jews are having a similar experience now. People that we’ve marched with or organized with, or even just mutuals that we’ve thought of as friends are now going on about how Jews are evil. They repeat antisemitic talking points from the Nazis and from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and when we point out that those ideas have only led to Jewish death in the past they don’t care. And if someone you thought of as a friend thinks of you this way, what do you think a stranger might think? Might do?

The Jews are fucking terrified. I’ve seen a post going around that basically wonders if this was what it was like for our ancestors – when things got bad enough to see what was coming but before it was too late to run? And we can see what’s coming. History tells us that they way people are talking and acting only leads to one place. I’m a millennial – when I was a kid the grandparents at my synagogue made sure the kids knew – this is what it looked like before, this is what you need to watch out for, this is when you need to run. I wonder where to run to. It feels like nowhere is safe.

I feel like I’ve been lucky in all this. I don’t live in Israel. I have family and acquaintances who do, but no one I’m particularly close to. Everyone I know in real life has either been sane or at least silent about all of this (the internet has been significantly worse, but when it comes to hate, the internet is always worse). I live in a relatively liberal area – there’s always been antisemitism around anyway, but it’s mostly just been swastikas on flyers, or people advocating for BDS, not anything that’s made me actually worry for my safety. But in the last 5 months there have been bomb threats at my synagogue, and just last week a kid got beat up for being Jewish at our local high school. He doesn’t want to report it. He’s worried it will make it worse.

I bought a Magen David to wear in November. At the time it seemed like the best way to fight antisemitism was to be visibly Jewish, to show that we’re just normal people like everyone else. Plus, I figured that if me being Jewish was going to be a problem for someone, then I would make it a problem right away and not waste time. I’ve worn it almost constantly since, but the one time I took it off was when I burnt my finger in December and had to go to urgent care. I didn’t think about it too much when I did it, but I thought about it for a long time after – I didn’t feel good about having made that choice.

The conclusion I came to is that the training that my elders had been so careful to instill in me kicked in. I was hurt, and scared, and the voice inside my head that sounds like my grandmother said, “don’t give them a reason to be bad to you. Fight when you’re well, but for now – survive.” It still felt cowardly, but it was also a connection to my ancestors who heeded the same voice well enough to survive. And it enrages me that that voice has been necessary in the past. And it enrages me that things are bad enough now that my instinct is that I need to hide who I am to receive appropriate medical care.

I wish I had some sort of final thought to tie this all together other than, “this sucks and I hate it,” but I really don’t. I could call for people to examine their antisemitic biases, but I’m not foolish enough to think that this will reach the people who need to do so. I could wish for a future where everything I’ve talked about here exists only in history books, and the Jewish experience is no longer tied to feeling this pain, but that’s basically wishing for the moshiach, and I’m not going to hold my breath.

I guess I’ll end it with the thought that through all of this hate and pain and fear, we’re still here. And we’re still joyful as well. As much as so many people have tried over literally THOUSANDS of years to eradicate us, I’m still here, I’m still Jewish, and being Jewish still makes me happy.

Am Yisrael Chai.

#antisemitism #judaism #venting #jumblr #long post #I'm not kidding it's like 2300 words #and it's a rambling mess #but i needed to vent #so help me god #if you show up in the notes and are being antisemitic I WILL find you and I WILL bite you

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thatrandomidiot182 · 2 months ago

Text

Weddings and Funerals

Chapter Warnings. unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage drinking, arguments, reader downplaying other peoples trauma, reader is an unreliable narrator.

The couple of days leading up to the funeral are a blur.

You call out of work for the weekend, needing the time to just... take a break and gather your thoughts. Sift through your emotions and prepare yourself to go back to the manor and see everyone for the first time since you left.

God knows what shit you're gonna have to put up with when you get there.

You hoped you would also be able to get some rest since you didn't have to worry about your horrid work schedule, but that was just wishful thinking. You haven't had a proper, relaxing, eight hour sleep since before you were bitten by that damn spider.

Alfred's death only fueled the nightmares that already plagued your life, and the few times you did manage to pass out, you woke up within minutes, screaming and drenched in your own sweat.

You honestly felt bad for your neighbors, especially the new one. What a great first impression you were making on the guy. You two haven't even met yet, and he's already having to deal with your bullshit...

The fact that you and Dick were arguing loud enough for the whole building to hear probably didn't help either.

That night, Dick didn't end up leaving your apartment until nearly two in the morning. With the two of you spending nearly three hours in a heated back and forth about whether or not it was appropriate for you to attend.

In the end, Dick threatened to bury the letter with Alfred if you didn't go.

So, because you felt an obligation to him and yourself, you caved.

Which is the only reason you're currently sitting in a cab, paying the absurd fare to travel from your place all the way up to Wayne Manor with a tumbler full of stolen whiskey and a knockoff brand of cola.

"Jesus, you sure picked a day to come all the way out here, huh?" The drivers voice calls out to you playfully, eyes carefully trained on the muddy terrain as he skillfully maneuvers through the rain and fog.

He had a point though, Gothams weather is notoriously bad, but today it seems like even the city itself was mourning.

Rain had been pouring down since before the sun rose, with thick fog following not long after, making the roads slick and dangerous, which is why the ride was so expensive.

Apparently the Gotham taxi cabs charge an extra, 'extreme weather' fee, who knew?

At least someone was getting something good out of all of this.

You respond with a small, polite hum, eyes glued shut after having spotted one too many shadowy figures hidden in the passing scenery.

"Well, here we are, creepy ass Wayne Manor. You got the code to the gate or you want me to drop you off here?" The man's accented voice rouses you from your thoughts.

"Here's fine, thank you." You pull out a wad of cash from your pocket, swiftly counting out the ridiculous amount, seriously, ninety bucks for a fourty five minute drive!? Before handing it over with a frown.

The man offers you an unbothered shrug in response to your irritation, handing you the receipt after quickly snatching the cash from your hand.

You exit the car with a huff, pulling the collar of your coat higher in an attempt to keep dry as you rush towards the gate, wincing at the sound of screeching tires behind you.

"I hope he gets robbed today." You grumble irritably as you punch in the code, brow furrowing as it blares a bright red 'INCORRECT.'

You try again, thinking maybe you put the number in wrong, only to get the same result.

You try once more, a disbelieving smile on your face as the number is once again rejected.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You let out a frustrated growl, moving to push the intercom button instead.

"Dick Grayson, you gave me the wrong fucking code, you asshole! Let me in!"

You shiver as your clothes get more drenched the longer you stand in the rain. Moving to pace the length of the gate to keep your feet from sinking into the mud.

Five minutes goes by with no response, and you're just about ready to turn and walk back to the city when a car pulls up behind you, blinding you with the bright led headlights.

You squint through the pain, trying in vain to see who the hell just pulled up on you, when the sound of a car door opening breaks the silence.

Your name is said through a shocked laugh, "Holy shit! Is that really you? I didn't believe Dick when he said you were gonna show up." Stephanie Brown's high pitched voice is easily recognized by your trained ears, and you have to prevent yourself from immediately snapping at her.

"Yeah, well, don't go thinking he's Mr. Reliable. Dude gave me the wrong gate code." You roll your eyes as she lets out a sympathetic groan.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. Here, why don't you hop in the back seat and we'll drive you in?" Her offer is about as tempting as a can of sardines, but you take it with little hesitation, wanting to get out of the rain that had finally made its way to your inner layers.

You huff quietly as you plop into the backseat of the sleek, black suv, blinking in surprise at the other occupants.

Cassandra Cain stares back at you through the rear view mirror, offering a small nod of acknowledgment that you ridgedly return.

Duke Thomas then gives a small, awkward wave, occampanied by an equally awkward smile as he inches away from your soaked figure on the seat next to him.

"Hey." You repeat the greeting stiffly, swiftly uncapping your tumbler and taking a large gulp of the mixture as Stephanie makes her reappearance, slamming the drivers door shut behind her as she starts moving forward.

"It's been a while, huh? You look good. I like your hair!" Her grin is forced, and you snort at her attempted small talk.

"Thanks."

There was a million other things you wanted to add onto that, things like;

'It's the exact same as it was two years ago, but you wouldn't know that, huh?'

Or, 'Wow, I'm surprised you actually noticed I cut it!'

Or maybe, 'I'm actually shocked you realized it's almost double the length it was when I left because I doubt you even realized what it looked like before!'

However, once again, you decide to be the bigger person and keep your thoughts to yourself, content with the visible cringe she adorns after your dry response.

Thankfully it doesn't take long to reach the driveway, and you don't bother hiding the smirk of amusement as Duke all but jumps out of the car as soon as it rolls to a stop.

Cassandra is expectedly silent as she waits for Stephanie before making her retreat as well.

You take an extra second to gather yourself before you follow their lead, slamming the car door behind you as you begrudgingly stalk up the brick walkway.

The silence surrounding the area is sufficating.

Not in the usual, 'creepy old manor that's almost always empty despite the nearly dozen of inhabitants' way. This silence was heavy, and you can tell by the way their shoulders tense that the three people with you also felt the weight of the moment as you all stand before the front door solemnly.

"He'd usually have the door open by now..." Stephanie's voice is smaller than you've ever heard from her before, and it's then that you take the moment to reprimand yourself while coming to a sinking realization.

You've been so caught up in your own grudges and emotions about the people here that you've overlooked the fact that they're all mourning too.

However, despite you, who has been through something like this more times than you'd like to think about, this was the family's first time loosing someone so close, so brutally. That you knew of at least.

So far, the only thing that's prevented you from breaking down and crashing out on everyone this long is the fact that this isn't your first rodeo.

You fiest had to deal with it when you watched your mom and step-dad die.

Then, you dealt with it when you had to watch Gwen's funeral from afar, hidden in the branches of a tree.

You dealt with it when you cradled Henry in your arms during his dad's own burial.

You dealt with it when the responsibility of planning your tia's death rites fell onto you.

This was actually the sixth funeral you'd been to in the last decade of your life.

But right now, you have to remind yourself that they aren't you. They haven't gone through, seen or dealt with all the shit you have in the past nine years, so it's unfair of you to bring your personal issues into this when they're struggling during such a time.

Although, it'd almost be poetic justice to give them a taste of their own medicine.

You'd keep that in mind for later, right now, the sudden epiphany leaves you squaring your shoulders and cracking the door open as you make a promise to yourself.

Today was about Alfred, and you won't be the one to draw away from that.

"He'd also be scolding me about coming in like a wet cat and getting his floors dirty." Your remark gets a shocked wet laugh out of Stephanie and a small, grateful smile from Duke. Cassandra's eyes soften as her lips quirk ever so slightly.

You quickly split from the trio with little more than a nod of farewell as you make your way to the kitchen, pausing at the entryway as a lump forms in your throat.

Besides Bruces office, this was where Alfred spent the majority of his time. Between cooking, cleaning, and teaching you how to cook and clean, his presence was more often than not somewhere in the kitchen. Either rummaging through the cabinets for ingredients, placing leftovers in the fridge, preparing plates on the island or rinsing dishes in the sink.

Your hands shake as you watch him turn away from the stove, his aged face meeting your eyes with the patient smile he always wore whenever you'd mess up a recipe.

You blink back tears as you eagerly brush past him, avoiding looking at him as you sling a web to grab the fancy whiskey off of the top shelf of the cabinet.

You hastily yank open your tumbler, refilling the canister with the expensive liquid and scoffing at the disapproving stare you see out of the corner of your eye.

"Don't look at me like that. You used to do the same thing when Bruce and the boys had a rough night." You roll your teary eyes, taking a swig straight from the bottle before moving over to the trash can to remove the web.

"Thought nobody knew about your little habit, but I could always smell it on your breath–" You laugh, "I don't blame you, of course not. This family could push even an angel to alchoholism–"

A whisper of your name has your mouth snapping shut, arm moving behind your back in a shotty attempt to hide the bottle from whoever had entered the kitchen.

Bruce looms in the entryway like a shadow, blinking in surprise as you stare back at him with wide eyes and pursed lips, looking very akin to a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Your face is quick to fall into a scowl once you meet eyes with the man, turning your back on him in order to place the bottle on the counter, berating yourself for being so jumpy.

"I... didn't think you'd show up... Who were you talking to?" His voice is meek, and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep from making a sparky remark.

He's grieving.

You repeat the sentiment in your head as you lean against the counter, hands busying themselves with closing your tumbler as you avoid looking at him.

"Yeah, nobody did, apparently." You scoff. "Just... talking to myself..." You glance at the stove wearily, heart dropping as the space before it remains empty.

Any response Bruce may have made is prevented from seeing the light of day as another gruff voice interrupts from behind him, "Why the hell are you here?"

You roll your eyes, scowl back with a vengeance as you glance over Bruces shoulder to meet the sickening green eyes of Jason Todd.

One of your top five least favorite people in Gotham looms over Bruce menacingly as he glares back at you, face mirroring your scowl with equal ferocity.

"I was invited–"

"You have no right!" He cuts you off with a shout, easily shoving past Bruce to crowd you against the counter.

"Jason." Bruces warning tone is ignored.

"You have got some fucking nerve showing your face here after what you did!" Your posture is tense, body effectively roused from its slump as you square your shoulders, raising your chin to meet Jason's stare head on as he jabs his finger in your collarbone.

"Jason!" Bruce snaps at the contact, eyes darting warily between your face and hands as Jason continues to ignore him.

"You didn't even know Alfred! You're probably just here because playing the big bad adult got hard, and your little minimum wage day job isn't paying the bills–" Your lips curl into a snarl, unnaturally sharp canines bearing defensively as you shove him out of your face, effectively sending him stumbling back into the island.

"You don't know shit about what I've been doing! And I'm willing to bet that I spent more time with Alfred then you did these past couple of years–" Bruce swiftly rushes to stand between the two of you, placing a hand on Jason's chest warningly as he mirrors the action on your shoulder.

"That's enough! Both of you!" You give a disbelieving scoff at his reprimanding, mentally beating yourself over the pang of hurt that rolled through you.

"Sad to see nothing changes in this fucking house." Bruces appearance is almost enough for you to feel a bit of remorse for your comment– if it weren't for his obvious favoritism in the moment.

His skin was pale, even more than usual with a pallor closer to a corpse than a living man. Sunken cheekbones and purple eyebags have his face nearly unrecognisable if it weren't for the unmistakable steel blue gaze that glared at you. His graying hair was neatly combed back, but your enhanced eyesight has you catching the clumps of dandruff and grease that hide in between the strands.

He dons a black blazer with mismatched cufflinks over a black turtleneck, with black slacks that were wrinkled to hell and back. His oxfords are scuffed and dull, and it's obvious he didn't bother to prep them beforehand. Not like Alfred would have done...

He looked smaller than usual, and you can only assume he hadn't been eating well, if at all, since Alfred's death.

However pathetic he may or may not look only further enrages you as you can't help but draw the similarities between your appearance and his.

You've never looked so alike before.

The Wayne genes are strong, but your mothers were thankfully stronger. You'd never had to confront the fact that you looked like your father because he was never around during your youth, making it easy to hate him without gaining a sense of self-hatred as well. However, ever since coming to Gotham, you've been harshly forced to face the reality that you do look like him.

And right now, the matching scowls, eyebags and exhaustion only solidify the fact as you feel like you're looking into a fucked up mirror the longer you stare at one another.

"Bruce? The-uh, security guys are here..."

Tim's meek voice breaks the tension, and works to bring you back to your senses.

Based on Bruces tense shoulders and Jason's guilty face, the same could be said for them as you all turn away from one another.

"Thank you, Tim. We'll be leaving soon, I suggest you get yourselves together before then." With that, Bruce takes his leave, sparing you and Jason one last stern glare before following Tim out.

Jason scoffs but says nothing as he harshly bumps your shoulder on his own way out, sparing you annoyed glare when you don't budge.

"Alfred, there better be a gold coin in that letter..." You groan quietly, rubbing a tired hand down your face and grabbing your tumbler before silently padding behind them.

Hushed murmurs make their way to your ears as you reach the foyer.

"–come out of his room–"

"–don't even know if he's dressed!"

"–hasn't said a word for three days..."

Bruce and Barbara are engaged in a heated discussion at the bottom of one of the staircases, the rest of the family loitering around the room awkwardly as the security team waits by the front doors.

"I'll go talk to him–" Barbara hurriedly moves in front of Bruce, placing a gentle hand on his forearm with a nervous frown, "We've already tried, he won't even open the door... Dick's up there right now, I think we should let him handle it."

You snort at her words, gaining a sick sense of amusement at Bruces hurt, confused stare.

"Why don't we just get the cars arranged while we wait–" Barbara's voice goes quiet at the sound of footsteps, everyone's attention moving to the top of the stairs where Dick and Damian make their appearance.

Dick gives everyone a small, relieved smile as Damian stands there silently. Arms crossed over his chest with a tear stained face and puffy, red eyes.

His cheeks were glistening in the dim light, and you could see him becoming more uncomfortable the longer everyone stared.

"Damian–"

"I call shotgun." Your words work to break everyone from their stupor, eyes snapping towards you as you interrupt Bruce by strutting towards the exit, stopping only to confirm the decision with security before walking outside.

The ride to the cathedral was so awkward you ended up downing half of your drink before everyone gathered back together.

The family big enough that everyone needed to split between three cars, not including the three additional decoys that were empty and filled with the security team.

Bruce, Dick and Damian were in the first car, and you could only imagine what they were saying to the poor kid.

Barbara, Jason and Cassandra all occupied the second, a smart decision on Bruces part, as placing Jason with either you or Damian at the moment is an instant recipe for disaster.

Your car followed last with Tim and Stephanie, and you spent the entire ride trying not to bash your head through the window from Stephanie's attempted small talk. You assume she was just trying to distract Timothy from his moping, as he looked almost as bad as Bruce, but still, her inauthentic prodding into your life was unwelcome.

So, to entertain yourself and fuck with them, you answered all of her questions with the most ridiculous answer you could conjur on the spot.

'How have you been?'

Fine, you know, besides the incident with the hotdogs.

'Where do you live?'

You rent a room in the Iceberg Lounge. Yeah, it's pretty great besides the occasional gang war in the living room.

'Where do you work?'

You train pigeons for local magician shows.

The best part was that you knew that they already knew the answers, which made it even more hilarious when Stephanie finally gave up and stopped trying to talk to you.

When you finally arrived at the steps to the building, you were horrified to see the sidewalks flooded with paparazzi, civillians and reporters. And because Bruce has an image to uphold, you were all forced to walk right through the center of the crowd, being blinded by the flashes and deafened by the shouts.

The security guard to your right ends up tugging you forward with an iron grip on your bicep after you attempt to lunge towards a photographer who shouted at you to walk faster.

Once you're safely enclosed in the building, hidden behind the thick, wooden doors, you turn around to see Kate Kane, Harper Row and Selina fucking Kyle all awaiting your arrival. You ended up taking a large desperate gulp of your drink at the sight of Bruce melting into the latter's embrace.

The absolute rage that overcame your being at the view of them being all lovey-dovey had you denting the steel canister in your hand in frustration over the fact that you didn't feel even the slightest bit tipsy by now.

Every day, you find more reasons to curse that spider to hell. Your ridiculously high alcohol tolerance is only the latest to be added to the list.

The only reason you even bother drinking anymore is because the sting that follows a sip of alcohol has become a soothing sensation in your toughest moments.

The burn is grounding, and you find yourself itching for that sensation whenever you start spiraling.

Concerning? Perhaps.

It's not like you got anyone to worry about it, though.

They're all dead.

The entire three hour service was excruciating.

Not only were you stuck sitting the entire time, but you were also still in semi-wet clothing, and you finished your drink during the first half hour.

Which made sitting through the entire ordeal so much harder...

It was painfully obvious that the whole thing was planned just to upkeep appearances.

From the way Bruce and Dick had basically caged Damian in-between them with a steel loving grip on his shoulders to the way Jason sat alone in the very back, carefully placed away from the 'hidden' cameras and journalists that littered the crowd...

It was obviously all just a show.

Of comraderie, solidarity, love and family...

It made you sick.

It made you furious to the point of nausea.

The way Tim, Dick and Bruce all had a generic, PR-approved speech to go up and deliver for ten minutes...

The way Selina clung to Bruce like a wet napkin and whispered in his ear with an exaggerated pout...

The way Stephanie and Cassandra spent the whole three hours whispering and giggling back and forth like it was a fucking wedding and not a funeral.

But most of all, it pained you, watching the way little Damian Wayne had to sit and grit his teeth and bear it all in the front row. Trapped between his keepers like an animal who's expected to lash out at any moment...

It had you setting aside your grievances the moment you began to see yourself in him.

Had you hiding the bent remnants of your canister in your coat after discreetly taking your super powered frustration out on it once it was sufficiently empty.

The salt in the wound was the fact that the man leading the rites had blatantly never met Alfred before. He spent the first two hours droning on in vague metaphors and dramatic readings, with the last fifteen minutes of his time being dedicated to rambling on about nothing relevant to the man or occasion.

The last fourty five minutes were then reserved for Bruce to make his final comments and lead everyone in a joint, 'moment of rememberance.'

Fucking bullshit is what it all was, and you were regretting ever letting your guard down and allowing Dick guilt you into coming just to end up playing the part of the perfect family.

The ride back to the manor was swift and silent, thankfully.

You don't know if it was because Stephanie finally caught a hint or they caught onto your foul mood, but either way, you were grateful for the chance to mellow out.

Or, try to, at least.

Because as soon as you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by Damian and Bruce glaring at one another, Dick and Selina standing between them with a grimace.

"Damian, he didn't mean it–"

Dick didn't get to finish his sentence before Damian took off into the manor, slamming the doors open and closed hastily.

You rub the crease in your brow with a heavy sigh at the sight, ignoring everyone's concerned murmurs and strolling inside quietly. Quickly making your way to the second, unused, living room and straight towards the dusty fireplace.

Where, once again, you were greeted with a familiar smile, a teasing comment accompanying the sight, "Finally done being stubborn? Shall I fetch the matches?" His accent bleeds into your ears with an ease similar to the way your aunts would, and it has your heart sinking.

You decidely ignore the phantom this time, brushing past his nonexistent form to spark the fireplace to life.

Plopping down on the couch, you immediately slump into the cushions, closing your eyes and forcing all of your attention to the roar of the fire and the warmth seeping into your skin.

You take the moment to breathe through your emotions. Imagining all the anger, frustration and pain flowing out of you with every exhale, solitude and silence replacing the adrenaline and regret.

A choked, shuddering breath suddenly brings you out of your haze, eyes snapping open at the noise. You strain your hearing to the best of its ability, before your spider senses finally kick in and alert you to the additional presence in the room with you.

You can hear their heartbeat.

Loud. Strong, but irregular... Erratic. Like it was struggling to decide between speeding up and slowing down.

Their lungs follow a similar pattern, breaths catching and pausing in a sequence of stutters and sobs.

What had the hairs on the back of your neck raising, was that if it weren't for your spider senses, you wouldn't have known they were there at all.

Slowly, you drag your eyes along the wall before you, from the top corners where webs were beginning to form, down over the portraits and decorations littering the wall paper and all the way to the bottom trim– and the body huddled in the left corner of the room, furthest from the entryway.

Damians green eyes met your own in a defensive glare. The light of the fire reflecting off his glassy irises with a sickening glow, reminiscent of a cat in the night.

Not a bad comparison, for at the moment his defensive posture, forced scowl and weary eyes are similar to a cornered kitten.

You stare back at him in silence for a long moment, your own tired gaze eyeing him in the dim lighting with conflicting emotions.

You only speak when Damian shuffles slightly, muscles tensing in what you assume is the intention to flee, "Pretty shit service, huh? Alfred hated The Beatles." You snort, head slumping back onto the couch with a weak laugh.

You hear his shuffling stop. "I imagine he'd be strangling your dad right now for letting them play that song. If there was one thing he never played about it was his taste in music." Your lips quirk at the memory of Alfred's scowl whenever he spoke about his distaste of the band.

You close your eyes, allowing your sixth sense to take over and alert you to Damians presence drawing closer.

"It's kind of funny... Now that I'm thinking about it, they pulled the same shit at my mom's funeral too. My Tia was so upset, and I was so young that I didn't understand why–" You laugh weakly, "–I mean, it's just music right? What's the big deal. It's not like she could hear it anyway." You abruptly stop yourself, pausing to take a deep breath as Damians presence lingers beside the couch.

"But it's not just music. It's the fact that there were so many people there who insisted on helping out... and yet none of them actually knew her. They didn't care about her or know her favorite colors or songs. They didn't use her favorite pictures. Didn't put her favorite flowers in her casket. They didn't even put the right fucking name on her grave." You huff, eyes welling up with tears as you stare into the fireplace.

You take a second to compose yourself before you start again, voice low and heavy as Damian takes a hesitant seat on the furthest cushion from you, curling into the corner. "You know... Everyone always says it gets easier... That eventually, you stop crying when you think of them, and that your chest doesn't hurt as much when you talk about them but... It doesn't." You feel the movement through the couch as Damian flinches.

"I think everyone who says stuff like that is full of shit. Especially when they've never had to sit and watch someone they love die, without being able to do a damn thing about it." Your jaw clentches and you ignore the way Damian tenses beside you, giving him the gift of privacy for his vulnerability.

"I've been through it... More than I ever should have." You pause to swallow the lump in your throat, "I was ten when I watched my mom and step-dads murder from the kitchen closet..." You ignore his shocked stare, eyes trained on the burning logs before you, "Fifteen, when my girlfriend died in my arms. A month away from seventeen when my Tia was killed and I had to..." You stop there, taking a deep breath before changing your trajectory.

"They mean well. Dick... Bruce... All of them, the-they do. They care about you, and they want to make sure you're okay, which is why they're being so... suffocating." You smile sadly.

"But they don't get it. None of them will ever be able to get it..." You trail off hesitantly, "Bruce's parents died so long ago. He's forgotten the details, fogotten the pain that comes with witnessing the brutality." You huff, crossing your arms as you stare blankly into the flames, "Dick was so young when the accident happened that he doesn't even remember looking away." You frown, "Jason's mom wasn't mangled or mutilated–" You ramble, "–Barbara, Tim, and Duke's parents are all still alive, and Stephanie and Cassandra are no-contact with their families!"

You take a moment to catch your breath after your rant, face screwed up in a pathetic display of hurt and envy.

"... I'm not going to sit here and tell you that it'll get better. That he's in a better place or that a day will come when his death doesn't haunt you, but... I will tell you that it wasn't your fault." You finally turn to face him, placing a hand on the couch behind his head as you demand his attention.

"Damian. Look at me." You see him scowl, his eyes glued to the carpeted floor as he clutches his knees closer to his chest.

"Look at me." Your voice is stern, but quiet. Demanding, but not harsh.

He finally, hesitantly, draws his gaze to meet yours, angered face falling at your soft eyes and furrowed brows.

"There was nothing you could have done to save him." You hate yourself the moment the words leave your lips, but you push on, desperate to reassure the boy in a way you wish someone would have done to you.

"It was out of your control. There was nothing you could have done to stop Bane, and he was always going to kill him no matter what you did or didn't do. You are fourteen years old, and he's a grown ass man built like a fucking tank who's jacked up on a fucked steroid knockoff... You couldn't save Alfred, and that is not your fault." Your voice cracks with emotion, and you hand your head to hide your tears from Damians face as he quietly lets his own fall after.

You don't know how long the two of you sit in that room before someone finally finds you guys. Simply basking in one anothers presence and the solidarity that comes with your words as the fire dwindles by the minute.

Damian never spoke a word, but you can tell that your speech had left him with a lot to think about.

You didn't speak after that either, content to close your eyes and enjoy the calm stillness of the room.

Your clothes are finally dry by the time Jason stalks through the doorway, glaring at you suspiciously as he rounds the couch to eye Damian in disbelief.

"So this is where you ran off to? Hiding away with them, of all people? Do you know how long we've been looking for you!? His body–" You interrupt him with a scowl, pushing up from the couch to stand in front of him.

"You must really like the sound of your own voice, huh? You just never shut the fuck up–"

"What the hell did you say to me!?"

"So you're deaf now too? I said–" You pause at the feeling of a tug on the end of your jacket, looking back to see Damian glaring at the taller male with pained eyes.

The action has you speechless, voice caught in your throat at the first friendly contact he's ever made.

"Lets... Let's just go." You stutter, shoving past Jason with Damian hot on your heels, trailing your featherlight steps with his own silent patters.

You hear Jason stomping behind you but don't bother sparing a glance back, focusing instead on the nearly unnoticeable presence at your side.

Why the hell is he so quiet?

Not even Felix had your ears straining so much to hear him, and he's the most light-footed person you know.

The oddity only adds to your suspicion of Damian.

He's always been an enigma to you, ever since the day you met.

He's violent, arrogant and incredibly rude, but also concernedly disciplined and tense.

Quiet and confident, always eyeing the faces in the room like someone was about to jump out and attack.

He's analytical and defensive, but not paranoid.

He's everything that a kid his age shouldn't be... and it worries you.

Sets off the nerves that scream there's danger around. That something is out to get you and you need to be prepared.

You always shoved those thoughts aside, assuming he was just an angsty tween with a concerning fascination with blades.

Until he finally turned one on you, and you realized there was more to the story than Bruce was feeding you. His movements were too precise, too swift and comfortable for him to have just been in a blind rage. His strikes were carefully calculated, every one delivered with the intent to hit.

To kill.

And somehow, you were the bad guy for fighting back?

You shake your head to ride yourself of the thoughts, reminding yourself that it wasn't the time to dwell on such things.

Not when Alfred was waiting.

The three of you step into the garden in a lingering tense silence. Damian still lingered at your side, while Jason immediately took off to stand next to Cassandra and Barbara, who stared at you like you had grown another head.

You ignore their baffled stares as you grab an umbrella from the porch before walking closer, stopping a few feet away as you wait for the rest of the group.

Their hushed whispers and side glances don't bother you for long as your attention gets drawn to Bruce and the rest of the family, who finally make their appearance.

"Damian, there you are, we were worried..." Dicks voice trails off as he glances at you in shock, eyes darting between you and Damian confusedly.

You simply offer a shrug in response, still pretty confused yourself as Bruce looked like he's a second away from a heart attack at your proximity to the boy.

"If I knew there was a dress code, I wouldn't have worn this dress." Selina's sultry voice snaps everyone out of their confused, concerned stares as they turn to her.

She simply smiles and raises a brow as she gesture to where you, Bruce and Damian had all unintentionally clustered together. "Must be a Wayne thing, hm?" You glance down confusedly, before balking as the joke finally lands.

Bruce and Damian were almost carbon copies of one another with their black turtlenecks and matching blazers.

Glancing around, you notice Tim and Cassandra also looking at one another in amusement as they take in their matching black turtleneck sweaters.

You also spot Harper nudging Kate with a grin as the redhead tries to hide her own shirts collar behind her leather jacket.

Of course, you had also decided to wear a black turtleneck today... What a fucking coincidence...

You scowl at the reminder of the blood in your veins, turning to take off down the winding path to the graveyard as laughter rings out behind you.

You hear Damian huff, glancing down with a small smirk at the unamused frown decorating his face.

Everyone was quick to follow behind, and the light atmosphere was swiftly replaced with solemnity as the graveyard slowly came into view.

Damian eventually staggered back to walk next to Dick, and you laughed as you picked up on Dicks concerned questioning.

Like you were the one who had a history of violence...

The thought had you shaking your head in disappointment and hurt. The night at your apartment had you foolishly hoping that maybe he wasn't like the others. After all, he wasn't really around enough to know everything, simply believing whatever bullshit the others fed him. Maybe you guys could still work past your issues and... become friends?

You honestly don't know what you were thinking. He's just like everyone else.

He always was.

You come to a stop just before the burial site, throat closing at the sight of the casket hanging above the empty grave.

Bruce had opted for a closed casket... apparently, Bane hadn't just snapped Alfred's spine but actually crushed his entire head.

There wasn't much left to view.

Unlike the cathedral, there was no official schedule. No professional religious leader to spout nonsense and religious guilt. No reporters, no police, just family.

And you, of course.

Surprisingly, Barbara takes the lead. Taking a moment to read from some of Alfred's favorite verses and quote his favorite poets before moving on to reminisce about the man.

She speaks of the good times and brings smiles to everyone's faces when mentioning cherished memories.

The fact that none of them contained you only made you the slightest bit uncomfortable, since you were expecting it.

Didn't make it hurt any less, though.

Still, you had to give it to her. She did a good job. Better than you did.

Once she was done, Dick, Tim, Jason, Cassandra and Stephanie all took turns to say a few words as well.

Jason and Cassandra were very blunt, short with their words and quick to say what they wanted before pulling back to lurk in the shadows.

Tim and Stephanie spoke one after the other, and held each other's hand through it all. Tim choked on his words and Stephanie lightened the mood with a small quip that Alfred would have ripped his hair out at the state of everyone's attire.

Dick spoke for a few minutes about the man he considered a grandfather, but eventually had to stop as he could no longer muster words through the tears.

Kate, Selina and Harper all ended up next to you as Bruce encased his eldest in a desperate embrace, Damian hanging onto their coattails with barely concealed tears.

"You gonna say anything?"

"No. Doesn't feel appropriate, you?"

"No, I uhm– Didn't know him that well..."

"What about you?"

It takes them calling your name for you to realize that they were addressing you, turning your head to meet Harper and Kate's inquisitive stares with wide eyes.

"Oh. Uh– No. He uhm– He already knew everything I would want to tell him... H-He knows..." You nod shakily, moreso to reassure yourself than them as they offer you their own nods of understanding.

Selina is unnaturally silent as she lurks beside you, head trained on Bruce as she grazes her shoulder against yours.

"He misses you, you know. He regrets what happe–"

"If he really did then he'd be the one here telling me, not you."

Your voice is harsh when you cut her off, hand cracking the plastic of the umbrella in your hand as her words have you losing your composure at her audacity.

Her silence has you eyeing her from the corner of your eye, scoffing at her disapproving frown.

Alfred's casket is lowered just as the sun begins to set, the dark mahogany glistening in the remnants of the days fading light.

Everyone slowly makes their way back to the manor as Bruce begins shoveling dirt into the grave. Damian lingers beside him, watching the wood dissapear with haunted green eyes.

Dick walks with you on the path through the garden, a thick silence surrounding the two of you as you share your umbrella.

The rain had lessened considerably since your morning escapade, but it was still falling in a consistent drizzle. Enough to have you watching your step to avoid getting mud on your shoes.

"It was nice... seeing you– seeing everyone together for once..." Dick is hesitant with his words, and you can tell based on his rapid heartbeat that he's nervous about it.

"I think it'd be good to do it more... You know, it's not right that the only time everyone gets together like this is for weddings or funerals–" You roll your eyes with a weak smile, biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood to prevent yourself from spitting at him.

You'd never attended a wedding with them.

"–If... If you're not too busy.. I want to start having dinner with everyone, like this. Maybe once a month, or–"

"Dick, let's not do this." You cut him off with a choked whimper.

"Let's not pretend that everything's okay. That today changed anything between all of us." You laugh humorlessly, "Jason hates me. Bruce looks at me like I'm a bomb waiting to go off and everyone else thinks I'm unstable!" You stop yourself at the sudden rise of your voice, squeezing your eyes closed to gain a semblance of stability.

"The only reason I even came today was for Alfred. That's it." You sigh.

"I didn't come here planning to reconcile or start playing along with your guys' little happy family routine. I'll go back to my apartment, and you guys can continue on like I don't exist." Your voice is shakier than you'd intended, and you hate the way it has Dick looking at you.

"But what if you didn't–"

"I will. I am." You're stern with your words, eyes hardened as you meet his pleading gaze. "I'm not going to force myself to saty here and apologize or act like what I did was wrong. It's unfair of you to ask me to do that–"

"That's not what I'm–"

"–but it is!" You don't let him escape accountability.

"It is. You expect me to just ignore everything that happened, everything they said and did to me, just because you feel– what, guilty? Remorseful?" You scoff.

He's silent, and you pause as you finally reach the porch. "I'm done trying to fit in here. I don't belong, I never did... The one person who bothered trying to prove differently is dead... and I... I only regret leaving because it meant disappointing him."

Your words settle in the air with a weight that hangs on both of your shoulders like a brick.

Dick finally begins to understand the depth of your pain.

You begin to finally let go of your delusional dreams of having a father.

You depart from one another with a stiff embrace and the one-sided promise of fixing things.

Dick pays for your cab, and hands you Alfred's letter after scamming your phone number out of you.

You block his own as soon as he finishes putting it in.

Now you sit, shaking your head and giggling in disbelief at the contents, giggling in a fit of manic amusement. Salty tears trail your face as you grip the paper with trembling hands.

Forgive them.

Forgive yourself.

This world needs all the heroes it can get. Especially Gotham.

– Grandpa Al

Taglist <3: @onceinamillionposter , @jscrawls @bat1212 , @1abi , @cosmosluckycharms , @homeless-clown

Updates are going to slow down from now on bc this is the third series I have going on rn. I'll do my best to update at least once a month, possibly twice, depending on when I have time, but they'll all be pretty long. Not quite as long as this one tho, this chapter is a monster, I feel like it might even be a bit too long, lol.

Thank you all for the support <3

#VENOMOUS THINGS #x reader #reader insert #batfam x reader #batman #batfam #spiderman atsv #spiderman itsv #spider!reader #dc x marvel au #dc x reader

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vamphorica · 4 months ago

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Bear with me on this one, but I think the parallels between Mello and Light need to be discussed.

Due to the very nature of Mello being L's successor, and L being as much of a foil to Light as one can be in fiction, there are obviously going to be various overlaps in that regard (as is the case with Near and Light, too). However, I do think that in Mello, we see several discrepancies from L and Near in how he navigates the Kira case, which are far more confrontational to Light because there's an understanding of Light, the human, rather than Kira, the omniscient God. I think that kind of awareness can be interpreted as a familiarity with Light's personality. With Mello being more socially adept than L and Near, there are several similarities between himself and Light that make his attacks more effective.

We can start with the very simple comparison between them: they are both criminals who commit their crimes with the intent to seek justice. Granted, I think it can be generally agreed that the manner of their crimes contrast, with Mello more prone to kidnapping and traumatising victims for an instant response, whereas Light grants instantaneous heart attacks to his victims in pursuit of humanity's eventual utopia coming to fruition (incredibly noble of him). Yet the fact still remains that they both have blood on their hands as a means to achieve their shared ambition of righting the world's wrongs, even if what that looks like differs between the two of them.

It should also be noted that Mello's victims tend to be individuals with a personal connection to the case in some capacity. This isn't a justification for his kidnap of Sayu, or holding Halle at gunpoint, but I think it is interesting that while Light will kill anyone and everyone he deems as 'rotten', in a very methodical and distant capacity, Mello very much takes advantage of the relationships people have with one another when choosing his victims. He realises very quickly that Takimura was not a good enough candidate to obtain the Death Note, hence why he ends up abducting Sayu. It is implied Light kills Takimura, and it serves as yet another example that his intent to rid the world of criminals extends to an intent to rid anyone who gets in his way, regardless of whether he agrees with their morality.

Returning to similarities between them, I think Mello and Light's histories are interesting to analyse in comparison to one another. Both men were highly intelligent children who grew up in environments where they faced a significant amount of pressure as a direct result. Mello's childhood is simple to analyse here — he was raised in an orphanage where he fought to become L's successor. Light requires a little more nuance. There is speculation as to whether Light suffered from the expectations placed upon him by his parents, and while I certainly don't believe he had to deal with the same intensity instilled at Wammy's, I do think there is a strong sense of reputation in the Yagami household that both Soichiro and Light frequently embody throughout the series, which is a pressure in of itself. You can tell even from Light's disdain towards Misa that the idea of someone else adopting the persona of the 'authentic' Kira means he is very conscious about his own image. While I personally don't see much merit to the idea that Light grew up in an abusive household, and Mello was certainly the one who dealt with higher expectations from a younger age, the environments in which they were raised both defined their ambitions to be as extreme as they became.

If we are going to delve into trauma, they actually share one, which revolves around Soichiro. Regardless of your feelings on the man and the motivations he had for each instance, Soichiro threatened to kill both Light and Mello at certain points in the series. I could (and probably will eventually) write a whole essay on the scene in which Soichiro holds Light at gunpoint, because I genuinely think it is one of the most horrifying, yet underrated, events in the whole manga. Even though the entire ordeal was conducted under L's directive, I think it goes without saying that the effect this would have had on Light was incredibly damaging, even more so because he had forfeited his memories at this time.

Mello is more mentally resillient to the possibility of losing his life by the time he is confronted by Soichiro, but his reaction to hearing his name spelt out aloud indicates a certain disturbance, even if just in response to the reality that Soichiro has the Shinigami Eyes. Needless to say, Mello has to contend with the fact that Soichiro can kill him, and undoubtedly expects he will. Light also expected his father to kill him in the car years before. The difference, of course, is that Soichiro cannot convince Mello in his act for as long as he did with Light.

This is extremely tenous, I admit, but a small voice in the back of my head does wonder if Soichiro's apparent reluctance to kill Mello could be traced back to a guilt in putting on the performance of executing his son. After all, Mello is at this point roughly the same age as Light was, and maybe Soichiro saw a brief resemblance between the two that caused him to falter. There are many interpretations of this scene, so I am not supposing this is the fundamental reason behind his hesitancy, but I wanted to mention it because it could be another possible connection between Light and Mello recognised within the series.

I also think Light's death is not reflected in anyone else to quite the same extent as Mello's. By this I mean to say that Light's conviction that he is the only one who could have "done it" and "come this far" is true to some extent in regard to being Kira, but not so much in chasing his goal to his dying breath. Even L at times is shown to be utterly depressed by the state of the case and while a lot of that was an act to provike Light, I get the impression that L's relationship with Light (and I am talking about the canonical relationship here) ended up serving as a detriment in arresting Light as quickly as he ought to have done after Higuichi. Even if L ultimately sacrificed himself while working on the case, L's death, as shocking as it was, was relatively quiet and anticlimatic all things considered.

So if we consider Mello and Light's respective deaths, a few days apart from one another, we can see that they both died as a direct result of their ambition. Additionally, you could say both their deaths were actually positive for the narrative as a whole - don't get me wrong, I wish Mello had survived, I really do, but without his death, the likelihood of Near successfully exposing Light as Kira would have diminished substantially, as Near himself admits. I don't think I really need to explain how Light's death was beneficial to the plot, do I?

Very quick tangent about Takada, but through her, we have a unique parallel of Light and Mello. From her perspective, Mello is the enemy who kidnapped seeks to endanger Takada, while Light is the hero who she can rely on as long as she does what he says and trusts in him. The reality suggests an opposition to this viewpoint. While yes, kidnapping people is bad, Mello shows no actual signs of seeking to harm Takada, and seems concerned with her dignity and agency, in spite of the fact that in doing so, it costs him his life. Light, meanwhile, immediately condemns Takada to the horrific death of setting herself alight, negating any possibility that he had her best interests in mind.

Finally, would this be a Certified Vamphorica Essay without me bringing up religious imagery? I think this adds a fascinating element of conflict to Mello and Light's relationship, if we are under the interpretation that Mello believes in God, but is actively going against a man who calls himself God. I've written more about religion in Death Note more broadly here if you're interested.

Ultimately, there are plenty of disimilarities between Mello and Light, and I'm not trying to assert the narrative that they are one and the same. However, I do particularly like the interpretation that they are more alike than either would be willing to admit, and it is this connection that perhaps contributes to how effective Mello's attacks are against Light, encouraging him to surrender the Death Note. I wish we had a little more interaction between the two, but that's where fandom can deliver, I'm sure.

#mello #mihael keehl #light yagami #soichiro yagami #sayu yagami #l lawliet #near #nate river #death note #analysis

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findingyourrootscomic · 13 days ago

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Finding Your Roots- Chapter 12, Page 84 Oh boy, where to begin haha;;;; If you'll allow me to lift my usual authorial silence and ramble... I'll talk about these guys today and Shelly tomorrow. So I originally grouped Team Molten together in the story because they shared an ending. I caught them all around the same time/in the same region, and they died in p quick succession one after another. I caught Ember first in Route 112, Copper in Fiery Pass, and Tuffy later in Jagged Pass. Copper died first, then Ember right behind him. And upon catching Tuffy, I'm p sure she died like less than ten fights later (and I was grinding for Flannery). They were the pokemon of the run who came in quickly and left quickly. Tone-wise and pacing-wise, it was going to be very hard to juggle. I wanted them to at least make some impact before they left. I mean, I had to justify their inclusion in the story SOMEHOW, especially since I wanted every in-game death to also be a story death. No departures in this nuzcomic. Soooo, I stuck them all on a team together. This way I could introduce them all together instead of having to trickle them in one after another. They all already knew each other, so they only had to get acquainted with my main cast and not with one another. I decided all four pokemon who died at this part of the run would all die at the same time, so it could be a one-and-done scene instead of pokemon having to drop dead one after another (which imo would have been much worse tonally). And noting the connection between having two numels and Mantle being a numel, I decided to connect them to Team Magma... and used that connection to give Team HEARTH a newfound investment in the villains. If I was going to have these characters around for a few chapters, I may as well make use of them lol. After that, they became characters. I turned them into wise friends who could help Cedar along in her racial identity crisis. Since Team Molten come from the desert and not racist ass Littleroot, its members would probably have a healthier perception of their race than Cedar would. All of Team Molten was earthen-elementals, so it would've felt like a waste to not connect them to Cedar's arc. It became something for the characters to initially connect over, and Team Molten's help with this stuff allowed Cedar to become better friends with them. It's why they were able to become close in such a small amount of time. Without it, Team Molten might've still felt like strangers by now. With the cast being so big in the desert arc of the comic, it was extremely hard to juggle screentime and lines for everyone. I ended up singling Ember out as a sort of "protagonist" of Team Molten; she ended up carrying the heart of her team's arc. I relate to her somewhat: She deals with abandonment trauma that turned her explosive and angry, and uhhh that's kinda my story too sdfkjghjkfg. She's a character who became pretty dear to me in the short time I've been writing her. But I also love Copper and his nerdy vibe, and Tuffy representing a big sister who could be trusted and relied on. That was especially important with this comic's themes of (found) family. And now, through the deaths of these characters we came to love in the past two years, I will kickstart the entire rest of the story. It couldn't have happened without them, and without what happened to them. Goodnight, Ember, Copper, and Tuffy. I really did want a camerupt in my run but it just did not shake out that way haha;;;. Rest in power, little guys. Last page of the chapter is tomorrow. Next > Cover Content Warnings If you loved Team Molten, please consider supporting me on Patreon!

#pokemon #pokemon comic #nuzlocke #nuzlocke comic #pmd #pmd comic #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon mystery dungeon comic #pokemon omega ruby #hoenn #finding your roots comic #chapter 12

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theresattrpgforthat · 7 months ago

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Mint Plays Games: Changelings, Trauma & Gaming

Over the course of October and November, I returned to one of my favourite ttrpgs of all time with @thydungeongal and my girlfriend: Changeling the Lost. About once or twice a year, I get the itch to run the 1st edition of this lovely, lore-heavy game, and every year I come away from it thinking about its potential. This is meant to be a quick break-down of my latest Changeling session, as well as a reflection on the parts of Changeling that really touch my heart.

The Game.

This game happened over three sessions, involving a character creation session, and two sessions of play. We had one character who was a Darkling Gravewright - folks who dealt with the dead in their time in Faerie (and can also see ghosts), and another who was a Fairest Flamesiren, whose entire deal is about burning bright, but also burning out quickly.

I decided to give these girls a murder mystery, with a mortal body found just outside a gate to a Goblin Market, and a missing changeling to track down. We’d talked about themes of grief and addiction prior to my planning stage, so I figured dealing with both a death and a place that offers your wildest dreams (for a price) might be a good place to start.

I don’t like planning out specific plot beats in my games, so instead I tried designing the Market like an adventure location, with various vendors to tempt the players with their wares, while dotting the landscape with NPCs in various states of distress. I figured the Changelings would pick something that resonated with them, and we could go from there. This process also generated a few different villainous characters who could be responsible for the murder, which I’m glad I did, because as usual, what the players decide to do always falls outside the bounds of what the GM plans for.

The story ended up being about saving a kidnapped changeling from a hungry Fae, and bluffing through a group of Privateers (read: mercenaries) and bringing the victim to safety. However, they didn't escape completely unscathed - coming face to face with a True Fae caused a cascade of terrible memories coming back to visit one of our characters right after she thought she'd made it to safety.

Our session was an introduction to the world and lore of Changeling, and I feel like I did a pretty good job on that front. On the other hand, I felt like it was just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the things I think Changeling can be about.

The Potential

When it comes to the World of Darkness in general, I think Changeling: the Lost has a relatively sleek amount of lore regarding the various Courts, Seemings, and faerie characters. Each Changeling’s durance can be typified, but ultimately what they went through can be up to the player who designs them, and the Hedge is limitless in its weird and strange creatures, which gives the GM license to create all kinds of goblins and monsters to fit what they want their game to be about - and the players aren’t really expected to know what’s going on in there anyways. Most Freehold history exists in rumour, because talking too openly about it feels like you’re inviting the Fae to your front doorstep, and in the same way, the true nature of the Fae is left up to rumour and superstition, allowing your group to decide what they really are, or leave their nature forever a mystery.

That being said, the toys that you can play with are still more numerous than anything that you can fit into any one campaign, even if you’re playing that campaign for 4+ years. You can very easily play Changeling as a magical urban fantasy game (and I’ve done this fairly regularly with my group), but C:tL also has a lot of poignant themes that can delve into themes about trauma, addiction, and mental health.

Disclaimer: CtL is not always graceful in the way it represents mental health. There are antagonists presented in the books that come across as “madmen”, some pretty gross Merits you can take that can feel bad to play at most tables, and characters that have lost what makes them human, becoming threats to the players. However, I think that the Clarity system does have some interesting ideas in it that, if treated with care, can still provide some interesting depth to the game.

Clarity

Clarity is meant to be a measure of how well your character can tell truth from Fiction - a high enough Clarity score, and you can sniff out a Fae even if they’re trying to hide themselves; a low enough Clarity Score, and you have a hard time differentiating colour and smell, and might even start seeing an overlay of your Durance infiltrating your weekly grocery trip.

Your Changeling moves up in Clarity if they’re able to keep a stable life with elements that help you ground yourself and give you a sense of identity - and mechanically, once you spend Experience points. Your Changeling moves down in Clarity when they suffer “sins” - moments that disrupt that hard-won stability. This sins could be something we’d consider morally fraught, such as stealing, assaulting someone, or murder - but they could also be significant life changes, like losing your job, buying a house, losing a friend or getting married. You also always suffer a Clarity sin when you come in contact with a reminder of your durance - particularly a True Fae.

The higher your Clarity score is, the harder it is to keep yourself there. Smaller and smaller things can trigger a Breaking point, like going a day without human contact, starting a new college course, or using a Faerie token. Furthermore, the lower your Clarity score, the more difficult it is for you to tell truth from fiction - think of the scenes in Mockingjay where Peeta has to ask Katniss “real or not real” and try to trust her answers.

It doesn’t help that so many pieces of the Changeling experience after getting out of the Hedge seems designed to Fuck You Up - like the doppelgänger that’s been living your life ever since you left, or the fact that mortals can’t seem to notice the ways that Faerie has changed you: you can feel the horns on your head, but all they touch is a well-coiffed hairstyle. In many ways it feels like your whole experience with Faerie is invisible - and you’re fairly certain that even if you told a mortal the truth, they’d never believe you. If they did believe you, they would never treat you the same again.

I like this system because it doesn't really measure how "good" or "bad" your character is - instead it's a representation of how your lived experiences can often trigger symptoms even if others get lucky enough to survive those events with their mental health intact. I'm not a bit fan of derangements - but I think dropping in Clarity is an excellent time to ask characters about pieces of their time in Faerie that haunt them, and perhaps saddle them with Frailties instead - what personal rules do you have to follow in order to navigate the world when you have a hard time telling friend from foe?

Other Themes & Metaphors

The Fae themselves are also exquisite boogeymen, mercurial abusers without the familiar human emotions that we might feel more equipped to understand. They act on their whims and follow their appetites - and while real-life abusers often have very human reasons for being that way, we need not feel such compunctions from the Fae.

We might have to feel some compunctions about their right-hand Loyalists however, changelings who have agreed to work for their Fae Masters in exchange for some semblance of freedom. These are enablers: giving the Fae a step into the mortal realm and throwing mortals and other Lost under the bus, just so the True Fae won't turn their abuses back onto them.

Much of the ethos of the seasonal courts in the first edition has to do with different strategies for preventing a day where you find yourself back under your abuser’s control. Do you pretend that everything is fine, because they won’t recognize their victims if they’re happy? Make yourself physically stronger so you can tell yourself that you’ll win next time? Amass magic rituals in the hopes that learning just the right order of steps will keep you safe? Or do you make yourself as un-interesting as possible in the hopes that they give up on you for other prey? (Yes, I think the Winter Court could totally be all about grey-rocking).

On top of that, the Changelings that your characters embody (and interact with) are far from perfect. They have vices, fears and trauma responses that pull and push them into a dance of backstabbing, power-grabbing politics, full of seeking the upper hand and possibly even selling out their fellows in a gambit meant to keep the Fae focused on someone other than them. (A political game or LARP with these themes in mind feels so juicy to me.)

Next is the metaphors of power and/or addiction. The higher your Wyrd is, the more Glamour you can hold, and the more powerful your magic is. At the same time, the more Glamour you can hold, the more you need to hold it: what starts as a fun magical resource can grow into an addiction, if you lean into it hard enough. Sure, your Contracts become easier to activate and you can Incite Bedlam if you get powerful enough, but are you willing to chance withdrawal if you can’t get your daily fix of goblin fruit? How much are you willing to play with human emotions in order to get that sweet sweet taste of anger or grief?

Then there’s the seeming-specific traumas. Beasts struggle with wondering whether they can be human after giving in to animal instinct; Darklings fell into Faerie because they crossed an invisible or moral line and have had to make morally questionable decisions in order to survive. Elementals are used to being treated as part of the scenery, moulded to fit the whims of their captors; Fairest are constantly pressured to be the prettiest or the best with the threat of terrible terrible things should they fail. Ogres have undergone terrible physical hardships, including physical mistreatment and deprivation, while Wizened have been told time and time again that they are only worth something if they are useful. Stepping out of Faerie doesn’t magically “fix” any of these complexes, and as a result each Seeming has to wrestle with stereotypes even amongst their own: if you need someone murdered, go to a Darkling, If you need something made, go to a Wizened. If you need a hot piece of ass, a Fairest is sure to oblige - right?

Lastly, there's the Fetch: a copy of yourself that was made to replace you when the Fae took you away. This other-you is often so much better or so much worse than the person they used to be - they can act as a foil to your character, haunting you or making your life difficult, reminding you of who you used to be, or never letting others forget how badly you may have screwed up. In Changeling society, killing your Fetch is at the very least a regrettably convenient way of tying up loose ends, and at the most, a rite of passage. But it's also a surefire way to risk losing Clarity. Kind of a catch-22 situation, isn't it?

My Experience So Far

Past Changeling sessions I’ve run have included NPCs getting kidnapped by misguided friends, stumbling across characters who were at an all-time Clarity low, trying to save other Changelings from their Faerie kidnappers, cannibals, Fetches, and antagonists who are set out to betray one or more factions of the Freehold that is supposed to protect them. It’s always bits and pieces of what feels like a bigger picture.

On the one hand, I think that's to be expected. There's so much in this game, and I doubt that any campaign can really dig in to all of its systems and complexities. On the other hand, I’m not sure if I’ve been able to really dig into the themes of Changeling: the Lost in the way that I’d really love to be able to do.

The subject matter can be so close to real struggles, that I’m nervous about making those struggles too bare-faced at my local table. Gas-lighting, torture, hallucinations, drug abuse and cannibalism are so very easy to drop into a Changeling game, but are also so very easy to hit uncomfortable moments for someone who's unprepared.

At the same time, I think that playing a game like Changeling with a high-trust table that uses robust safety features has so many interesting stories that can give power to players, even if the setting is technically a horror one. I’ve been having conversations with @psychhound about a lot of the themes that folks try to explore in ttrpgs, especially in response to this post he commented on back in April. To summarize that conversation: TTRPGs are a great way for folks to tackle personal struggles and traumas from a safe place, in ways that can give them a cathartic experience or that can give them a fresh sense of identity. Changeling has been a significant part of those discussions.

I came to Changeling: the Lost as a fairly new GM the first time I picked it up, and the more I learn about Safety Tools and a culture of care, the closer I feel to getting to that game that lives in my head that lured me into TTRPGS in the first place. Every time I come back to It, I think I'm closer to pulling together a Changeling game that sinks its teeth into the themes I’m interested in and hit some of the grime beneath all that glitter. So every time I come back to it, I’m going to create funky little goblins and design weird Fae bars and take the characters’ memories and ask them why they hurt - figuring out how I can twist the knife just enough to peel back the glamour, without opening any wounds that we’re trying to keep closed.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #changeling the lost #mint plays games #mint speaks #world of darkness

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meanbossart · 1 year ago

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So like healing isn't linear. Do you think there are times when Astarion is like "I can't do it tonight" in the middle od the deed? I do wonder what would be Drow's reaction? We know he can be overprotective. Would he, groundlessly, blame himself? I feel like in the latest chapters of ANE he made some progress with understanding Astarion.

On the other hand I feel like Astarion would be, unreasonably, angry at himself for not being able to move on and leave his past behind. "Cazador is gone, I gave myself time. Trauma, what else do you want?"

I would love to hear your opinion!

Oh yeah, absolutely there are times where he isn't feeling it. Admittedly I'm a little less interested in exploring the internal workings of healing from this kind of traumatic sexual fatigue than I am in exploring the way other people can accidentally make it about themselves, doubt your agency because of your past experiences, and continually focus on your trauma on your behalf under the guise of helping. Healing is a complex, personal experience that is practically impossible to document in a linear or clear fashion - the way other people react to it, on the other hand, is often painfully predictable.

Astarion is a grown man who wants to move on with his life. Sometimes, he probably feels overly sexual and privately needs to dwell on the guilt associated with that. Sometimes he isn't in the mood but he does it anyway for x and y reasons. Sometimes he stagnates and sometimes he tries new things that don't work, or that he regrets later. The important part is that these are decisions and "risks" he decides to take for himself. He knows that he can say no; he knows that if he says no, whatever is happening will stop. To him, that's the biggest perk about being with someone you trust - you can venture freely into the terrible and the painful and know nothing bad is actually going to happen, besides for maybe a weird-feeling type of week or a few nights of restless sleep.

Whether you think this is good or bad practice, it is what he wants to do as someone who is in a rush to enjoy things again.

DU drow is the one who is constantly concerning himself with his state of mind and his ability to make these kinds of choices. Getting into his head about whether or not Astarion feels pressured to fulfill his needs to the point where he avoids displaying any amount of sexuality around him for a time, where he himself turns Astarion's advances down not because he doesn't want to have sex - but because he doesn't trust him to make these choices in earnest. In this context, he is looking at Astarion and seeing a profoundly damaged man in need of rescue and guidance; while Astarion looks back at him wondering where this practically-weaned-yesterday doofus got the idea that he's got a radioactive dick. Once again, whether or not you believe that what Astarion is doing is healthy, the point is that DU drow has absolutely no authority in this area.

Like you pointed out, this is something that they slowly come to resolve. It will no doubt pop up as an issue again throughout their lives but the situation does improve. At the same time that Astarion will probably go through phases of dealing with his own business differently and communicate that to his partner to varying degrees of consistency or success - the important thing is that the other guy in the room stops acting like this is something he can do anything about but listen.

#ask #du drow lore #astarion

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skyahri · 1 year ago

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Hate |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.

Warnings: Brief smut, kissing mentions of p and v. Some angst, but all comfort. Mentions of blood, violence, and death.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

You hated how full of himself he was. He was always talking down to people, to his teammates and so-called friends. He goes out of his way to show people up no matter how inappropriate the situation may be.

He hated that you always stuck up for people he considered weak. He hated how much time and energy you put into helping others instead of focusing on your own training. He hated that you had so much potential, yet seemed to waste it at every opportunity.

As time went on and you were forced into each other's inner circles, your occasional arguments became a constant bicker. It got even worse when you were assigned to his ANBU team. You questioned his every move and fought every decision he made.

In return, he always gave you the least desirable night shifts. He'd make you write all the reports, saying something about needing to learn to respect your elders (he's only a few months older than you).

Once you were put in charge of your own team, things quieted down. Not because either of you had mellowed out, but because you didn't cross paths as often anymore.

Because of how rarely you saw him, you always made sure to make your brief encounters worth it. You had practically written a list of insults to throw his way. He returned the same energy with out hesitation.

Eventually, after his genin team had gone their separate ways and you had finally retired from ANBU, you had a seemingly infinite amount of time to rekindle your rivalry with him.

He always seemed to be heading in the same direction as you were. It didn't matter if you were on your way to the Hokage's office, the shops, or meeting up with someone- he was always there.

You tried to fight with him like the good old days, but it was different now that you were grown adults. Maybe the ungodly amount of trauma combined with the wedge distance had created in your odd relationship had finally put an end to your petty war.

Thinking back, maybe this is what it had been all along, and your stupid kid brain was too proud to admit what was really going on.

Your arguing had turned into kissing the moment he stepped through your apartment door. Things moved quickly, expert hands doing away with endless layers of Jonin uniforms in a rushed attempt to feel more of each other.

It felt right. Like the decades of tension had finally come to a head and you were being forced to deal with it in the most animalistic way possible.

"I hate you."

Your mumbling between desperate kisses. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, opting to instead lift you by your ass so your legs could wrap around him. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his clothed election right against your womanhood.

"I hate you, too."

Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room, that the word you're looking for isn't actually hate. But that's beyond your cloudy minds right now.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru has never really bothered with social pleasantries or subjected himself to cater to what people like and dislike. In fact, he often chastised people for caring what others think.

He always commented about what you wore, how well groomed you were, and the overall effort you put into your appearance each day.

You hated listening to it, which is why you always did your best to avoid him.

It wasn't even about you specifically. You hated hearing how rudely he'd shut down Ino when she would ramble on about anything. You hated when he complained about how loud Naruto and Kiba were despite knowing that they're just excitable people. You hated hearing the damn near sexist remarks he'd make about how stupid people were for giving any shots about how they looked.

It was annoying. It didn't seem to phase anyone else anymore, but that almost made it worse.

You were at your breaking point. Just one comment away from losing your composure and you prayed to God you'd be able to refrain from saying anything too harsh.

But alas, Kakashi had assigned you to yet another mission with him- the sixth one just this month.

At least he waited until you were at the Inn before he started up with you. You honestly don't know why he let you shower first if it was going to be such an issue.

"Finally. I thought you'd be in there forever."

"What the Hell is your problem with me?"

He paused in his tracks. He wasn't expecting you to say anything to his usual grumbling, and especially didn't expect it to be so hostile.

"You always take forever in the bathroom."

"It was twenty minutes. You'll live."

"It wouldn't be that long if you didn't bother with all the extra shit you use."

"Why is it such a problem that I care about what I look like? I don't ever involve you in it and yet you're always talking about it."

He rolled his eyes, about to blow off whatever you were saying, but you started up again before he could.

"All you ever do is bitch and whine and moan about dumb shit that doesn't concern you. I like to look nice. I like wearing clothes that compliment my figure and putting time into the health of my hair and skin. It's not the end of the world, so shut the fuck up about it already."

You walked past him and lay in one of the twin beds, tired from the journey and pissed about your teammate's usual poor behavior.

He didn't say anything. He continued with what he was going to do before the argument and carried on like nothing had happened.

He kept any conversations strictly professional for the duration of the mission, something you were ecstatic about.

It wasn't until a few days after you returned home that you heard from him. He showed up at your apartment unprompted, looking irritated and slightly flustered.

"After talking with my team, it may have come to my attention that I might be kind of an ass."

You invited him in, curious as to what he had to say. He admitted that he had never been called out on it. Most people don't take him too seriously and he may have gotten a bit too comfortable voicing every thought that crossed his mind.

Although he had mostly soothed any nerves you had, you still decided he owed you.

You dragged him into your room, sat him at your vanity, and laughed when he groaned. You pulled out all the stops for him. You took him through your entire routine start to finish and when you were done, you asked him hiw it felt.

He hated that it felt nice. He hated that he suddenly realized how dry his skin usually was and how clean he suddenly felt. He would never fully admit that to you, though.

Him showing up at your apartment the next day, conveniently around the time you usually started these things, was all the confirmation you needed that he no longer deemed it a waste of time.

Sasuke Uchiha

He hated going to the Hokage's office, not because he was still in the thick of earning his freedom after the war, but because he hated Kakashi’s assistant.

You annoy him. He hates that you so confidently push his buttons. He hates that you're just a civilian, but you've been given so much authority over him. It was an unfit existence for the last Uchiha.

You enjoyed messing with him. He would grumble when given his assignment and you made sure to mock him with a playful pout. You'd check in with the ANBU watching over him to make sure he was behaving. You always used that word- behaving. As if he were a child.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Kakashi isn't in the village right now, meaning he's stuck taking orders from you. He swears Kakashi picked you to oversee him intentionally, knowing how much it would bother him.

He's sitting next to you, helping you go through seemingly endless piles of paperwork. He wasn't sure if this was better than all the D-rank missions he'd been assigned lately, but he begrudgingly accepted the change of pace.

He glances at you through his peripherals. The sun is just going down, the orange light illuminating your soft features. Your usual bratty expression was replaced with a more peaceful one.

This was most likely just as much a break for you as it was for him. He wasn't oblivious to the way you had to reel Kakashi in every day, damn near having to tie him to his chair to get anything done.

"You can go home. I'll finish up here and we can resume tomorrow."

He didn't argue, thankful for relief from the horrifically tedious task. As he was leaving the building, he suddenly got this feeling in his gut that he should stay.

Of course, not wanting to do more paperwork than he was required to, he ignored the feeling and carried on.

He should've stayed. Just an hour after he left, while you were packing up for the night, the tower was raided by rogue nin.

The alarm sounded in the village, immediately calling all available shinobi. Bee, the ANBU assigned to him, gave him permission to lend a hand, and off they went to the tower.

He teleported himself to Kakashi’s office, knowing you would most likely be in there or at least somewhere near. What he wasn't expecting, however, was you standing over a body, kunai in hand and blood splattered across your body.

"Y/N?"

You didn't move, couldn't move. He reached forward, tugged the blade out of your shaky grip, and let it fall to the floor. You let him, not really in the mood to fight any more than you had to right now.

"Is he dead?"

Your question caught him off guard.

"I've never killed anyone before."

Ah. Civilian. Right. Sure, you belonged to a Shinobu village and even worked under the Kage, but that was vastly different than being on the front lines.

He thought for a second. Was he in any sort of position to be responsible for you at the moment? Should he hand you off to one of the other nin and return home?

"Cover your eyes."

It took a minute for his words to register in your hazy mind, but once they did you obeyed. If there was one thing you knew would benefit you, it would be allowing him to take the lead for now.

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and guided you through the hallways, down the stairs, and away from the tower completely. He glanced around, but couldn't find Bee, so he opted to take you back to his apartment. It would cause a lot less trouble if he was where he was supposed to be after all.

At home, he sat you down in the tub and turned on the water. He left you there, letting all the blood loosen from your skin. He returned a moment later, setting a stack of clothes down on the counter and grabbing a rag from the cabinet.

Neither of you spoke as he gently scrubbed your face. When he was done, he got a little bit of shampoo and worked all the red out of your hair.

You were slowly coming out of your daze. It was nice being brought out by something kind and comforting. It was almost enough to distract you from the night's events. Almost.

When he was done, he handed you the cloth, telling you to finish up and see him when you're done. You nodded, standing up and undressing when the door closed. You noticed how clean the water ran, most likely due to how thoroughly the Uchiha had taken care of you.

When you stepped out of the tub, you noticed the clothes on the counter. Upon closer inspection, they were similar to the ones he was wearing now- a t-shirt and sweats.

You joined him in the adjacent bedroom where he waited patiently. He all but forced you into his bed, shutting down all of your protests. When he went to leave the room, you quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt to stop him.

"Please stay."

He didn't fight you. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard and staring blanky in front of him.

You were thankful for the comfort of simply not being alone. Not after tonight, when so much had happened and the trauma was still fresh in your mind.

He tried telling himself that this was not a personal act, but instead one that would aid his village. But who was he kidding? He was realizing you weren't all that terrible and he had just allowed his angst brain to manipulate him into thinking so.

#sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha #sasuke fluff #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi fluff #kakashi smut #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru fluff #shikamaru angst #naruto #naruto shippuden

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icouldhyperfixatehim · 2 days ago

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coming back to follow up this post bc i've been watching little snatches of john and aaron (it's the only way i can stick it) and i just saw the scene of aaron having a bad mental health/gordon day on the day of john's hero award yoke. making myself sick with heartbreak again bc, danny the actor you are, you can absolutely see that aaron truly believes john loves him. and for that, aaron does love him back.

aaron's relationship with love has always had really defined halves of loving vs being loved. he wants to be loved. desperately. but he thinks he's an inherent obstacle - do you know how difficult it was to love you? ...i'm your son - i'm not exactly easy to love - he's not offering more. so i'll take what i can get - this little percentage of worry that he never really loved me the way i thought he did. he thinks the love that people have for him has its foot in the door for the day he's not enough, too broken, too messed up, too not worth the hassle.

people don't stay with me.

so when john forgoes his award, says he'd rather be there for aaron while he struggles through a bout of recurring trauma, that it's where he wants most to be - of course aaron believes john loves him. and if someone loves him that much, how can aaron not love him back? it's what he's been looking for isn't it? that love. that love that's worth hanging on to and fighting for, that he thought he'd never have again, not really.

and you loved me, you loved me like nobody ever has before

aaron doesn't feel about john the way he feels about robert. but when john loves him like this, when that's such a hard thing to do, aaron does love him back for it. does owe it to him, doesn't he? it amounts to the same thing, even if it doesn't feel the same way.

but we know john doesn't love aaron like that. from john's perspective, that scene doesn't show love, it shows addiction to aaron's victimhood. shows love as a selfish martyrdom.

which is why you'll find me wretching and sobbing and wailing. because as @sunsetsover pointed out in my notes, the love aaron's looking for, the real deal, is utterly egoless. and it never had its foot out the door - it just had no way of a stopping itself being pushed through it. either way, aaron had to accept that the door itself was closed.

but there's a knock. and aaron's frozen in the foyer right now, but he'll answer it eventually.

you're the strongest person i know

#emmerdale #robron #aaron dingle #me? writing humiliatingly earnest character analysis at 1am? AND WHAT ABOUT IT??#we'll get our boy back i know it i know it i believe #i do think that (under false impression) aaron does love john #but comparing it to how he feels about robert is like saying you've got a pretty good torch while standing on the sun #AND THAT'S SCARY #IT'S ALL SO SCARY #but our aaron i think he's amazing. he's the bravest bloke i know 🤍🥹🥹#liomsa

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 4 months ago

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MAY THIS KIND OF LOVE NEVER FIND ME. ( HOTD! MODERN AU! X READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! Back to posting for a short time cuz I go back to full time college in a week. <3 pairing: Modern AU! Aegon Targaryen x Reader prompt : based on the trend of 'may this love / kind of love never find me' trend on tiktok, where Aegon is determined to make your relationship the opposite of the trend. word count: 1, 000+ words

Aegon had never been the best of boyfriend’s, he was well aware of that. He would often forget important dates, anniversaries⎯being the worst. Or the names of the women he dated, earning him a hefty amount of slaps and curses. He could be brash, too much to the point where it was no longer charming. He could be temperamental, jealous, and admittedly a spoiled brat.

He’d like to think the concoction that was his childhood, with sprinkles of generational trauma added for ‘spice’, made him that way. But, he at least attempted with you, which was more than he could say about previous relationships. Key word on attempted to be the best boyfriend that he could be.

He had once brought you flowers, though they were crushed from stupidly sitting on them. Or the time that he took care of you after your wisdom teeth removal, where he had smacked you in the face with the apartment door. Or the other time where he had tried to be romantic and carry you bridal style, only to smash his toe in the corner of the couch and drop you on the floor. The attempt was there, really, he just sucked at his execution of it.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Aegon scrolled through the photos of some random couple on social media, reading the caption. ‘Yeah, he doesn’t help me with the kids. But, it’s not that big of a deal.’, along with cheesy hashtags for ‘true love’ and ‘true marriage’. Wrinkling his nose up at it, he clicks on the comments, seeing a flood of ‘red flag alert’ and ‘leave him, girl’. Seeing another post linked to it, he clicks on it, unable to resist the urge to look into some else's relationship. After all, they were the ones airing it all out, it wasn’t his fault if he looked.

Seeing another couple posing in cheesy photos, the caption once again airing out a little too much of their business, ‘He doesn’t help around the house, like ever. But, that’s what I like. It’s totally fine, so no hate comments about him, please.❤️’ Scrolling through each comment he could see, he pauses on the most liked, ‘May this kind of love never find me’. His gut churns in a way that he doesn’t like. Okay, that one kinda hit a little too close to home. He didn’t really help a lot around the apartment, but it’s because you liked things to be done a certain way.

“No, Aegon, just let me do this⎯” You protest, visibly wincing at the way he dusted the bookshelf.

“Why? I wanna help. I’m not incompetent, babe.” He argues, wiping away specs of dust.

“No, no, just stop.” You snatch the dust rag from his hand, “I just⎯I just like theses kind of things to be done a certain way. Just leave it alone.”

Clicking onto the audio attached to the pictures, he falls into a rabbit hole of posts, a hashtag attached. ‘#May this kind of love never find me’. Each post spouts out relationship dramas and ‘icks’, from leaving the toilet seat up at night to not doing anything for their partners on birthdays and anniversaries.

Then, there were the video’s. Some of them from couples, others from fanart of book series, and some from couples from TV Shows and Movies. His gut churns more and more as they point out faults that were a little too close to his own. The top comments are always the same in one way or another, ‘may this kind of love never find me’.

“Aegon?” You call, snapping him out of his daze.

“Oh, yeah, um, hey!” He forces a smile, turning off his phone.

“Are you okay? You look like a kicked puppy.” You raise a brow, poking your head out from the hallway closet.

“Yeah, yeah, just my football team lost and now I gotta deal with some shit in my fantasy football league. Move some players around and try to trade others, you know?” He lies, trying to make you uninterested as possible to drop the subject.

“Um, not my expertise. But, um, hopefully, it all turns out well for your team.” You offer a soft smile, “I guess?”

Faltering at your words, he stiffly nods his head in agreement, watching as you fill another cardboard box with clutter from the closet. He could see the specs of old warped pieces of newspaper and a broken vase peek out from the top. Licking his chapped lips, he shifts on the couch, turning his open on and off. The home screen pops up, showing a photo of you and him, posed in cheesy 80s inspired sweaters. Turning his phone off for good, he watches you pick up the box, softly closing the closet door shut with your hip.

“So, um, what are you going to do with that stuff?” He

“Oh, most of it is broken junk, so trash. But, I do wanna go to the basement storage and see what else is broken to throw out. We can use the empty space in the apartment, you know?” You explain, giving the cardboard box a soft shake to motion to the junk inside.

“Oh, cool.” He nods, not really paying too much attention to your words.

“Yeah, if you're not too busy with your fantasy football stuff, you can see what else is broken in the apartment and bring it downstairs with me.” You smile, offering him the chance to join.

“Oh, yeah, um, sure.” He hums, not in the least bit interested in the idea of doing spring cleaning.

Looking down at his lap, he clicks the power button on his phone, the home screen popping back up again. He stares at your face, a hint of a pout curling at his lips. His mind kept wandering back to those posts, the captions and comments about how horrible the relationships sounded.

What if you felt the same way that those people in the comments felt about your relationship? Would you dump him? No, you should dump him. Just like those comments said in other posts. Watching as the screen goes black and his phone turns off, he knew that he should talk to you about it, after all, communication was something you wanted more of on his end.

“You don’t have to, Aegon.” You sigh, putting the box down on the coffee table.

“No, I’ll come down, just gonna take my time to look at my stuff.” He shakes his head, “I’m sure I’ve got some junk in there.”

‘He doesn’t help around the house. But, he can’t help it.’

‘He just forgets things a lot of the time, not stuff he likes, but stuff that I like or I consider kinda important.’

‘He doesn’t like when I wear revealing stuff. It’s not really his fault, it’s mine.’

‘He tends to get jealous really quickly, so I stopped hanging out with my friends.’

It kept on spiraling in his head, those captions that he swore he had heard you complain about at least once in your relationship. Or was he just being paranoid now? Were his thoughts just spiraling so much that he couldn’t tell what was real and what was just the influence of social media? Or had you truly said those things to him and he had ignored them?

Chewing on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, he turned on his phone one last time, just staring at the home screen. Seeing the time, he lets out a sigh, deciding now was the time to stop sulking and help you downstairs. Throwing his phone carelessly onto the coffee table, it smacks the lamp, sending it falling onto the rug.

Bang.

“Aw, fuck!” He curses, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the now broken lamp.

The vase bottom was now cracked down the center, still held together miraculously, but cracked enough to ruin the aesthetic of it. Maybe he could fix it? Add some gold paint over the crack like in those art posts you liked on social media. Say it was a craft or something, right? Wincing softly at the damage, he turns the lamp on, the bulb letting out a loud crackling before popping. Nevermind.

“Fuck my life.” He grumbles, pissed he had ruined your lamp.

Running his hands through his hair, he looks for the cardboard box, hoping to hide the evidence of your massacred lamp under the other junk. Not seeing it, he grumbles as he realizes you took the box downstairs with you. Great, he was gonna have to explain what happened. Chewing on his bottom lip, he saunters into the kitchen, hoping to find some kind of sweets to sweeten you up with. Finding some slightly stale biscuits in the pantry, he puts them on a paper plate, snatching the old container to throw away along with it.

Forcing himself to act casual, he walks down the stairs, heading to the basement. Seeing you throwing away some moth eaten christmas decoration, he tenses up, feeling like a guilty dog. You were gonna be mad. He just knew it, and it was gonna be like those comments on those couple posts. Stepping on the bottom step, it squeaks loudly under his weight, announcing his presence in the basement.

“Babe?” You turn around, cracking a half surprised smile at the sight of him.

“I got you something to eat, cause you were working up a sweat cleaning and all that.” He shoves the plate into your hand, hiding the lamp behind his back.

“Aw, thanks.” You smile, furrowing your brows slightly as he tucks his hands suspiciously behind his back.

“So, um, you’re really pretty, you know that right?” He blurts out, attempting to distract you.

“Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Yeah, and you’re really funny. Like, the best kind of funny, you know?” He rambles on, attempting to smuggle the lamp in the cardboard box without you seeing.

Leaning to the left, you furrow your brows at him, leaning to the left with him. Tilting your head to the side, he swore that you knew and were just torturing him. Or was he just being super paranoid now? Sweating slightly at your stare, he pulls you abruptly into a hug, tightly pulling you against his chest with his free hand. Forcing your head into the crook of his neck, he shoves the broken lamp into the box, it clanging with the other junk inside. Letting out a soft sigh, he lets you go, watching you stare at him like he had another head.

“Aegon?” You ask, a hint of suspicion in your tone.

“Yeah, sweetie?” He chuckles, trying to act as if he was not just having a mini heart attack just moments ago.

“Is that my lamp?” You push him aside, pointing to the lamp in the box.

“Um, no..?”

“No, that is my lamp.” You argue, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Pff! It’s like totally not your lamp, you're just seeing things!” He weakly chuckles, sweating.

“Are you calling me crazy?” You scoff, unamused by his incriminating behavior.

“Yes..?” He asks unsure, “No? Um, like in a sexy way?”

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