#anyway. their implied dynamic fascinates me

[lycankeyy]

Protect me? Protect yourself!

[ashes-goin-down]

Can we talk about Cartman's tendency to pet Kyle? And the way Kyle lets him do it?

It's such an under-discussed part of their dynamic. Cartman does this all the time. He does it to tease Kyle. He does it to comfort him. He does it to express gratitude. He even does it to pictures of Kyle when Kyle's not there.

And you could say that's just Cartman, he's just touchy, that's just how he expresses himself . . . except that it's really not. All this petting and stroking isn't something you see him do with Stan and Kenny. (Friends he has said multiple times he loves.) It's not something he does with his actual pet, Mr Kitty. It's not something he does with his mom. It's not even something he does with Heidi or Yentl. There's a lot of hand-holding and kissing in those relationships, but Cartman appears to consider this expected romantic partner behavior, and to be imitating that accordingly. What you don't see with them is the clingy, almost unconscious need to touch he demonstrates with Kyle. Kyle has to be stroked, patted, petted, hugged, poked, pulled on . . . it seems to be a comfort thing for Cartman, and that is just so fascinating to me.

It's also endlessly fascinating to me that Kyle - who has no problem putting Cartman in his place about anything else - allows this nearly every time. Maybe there's some token complaining, but he never actually tries to stop it. It's not "ew, Cartman is hugging me" it's always "why is Cartman hugging me?" and that's a subtle difference I think gets overlooked. People like to claim Kyle's response to Cartman having a crush on him would be disgust, and that Kyman could only ever be one-sided for this reason. But Kyle's response to Cartman being affectionate with him is actually pretty much always confusion, not disgust. I get the impression Kyle doesn't know how he feels about it.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here, but it's just so interesting to me, the relationship they both have to touch. Cartman uses Kyle to fulfil his need for touch and connection - and Kyle doesn't often reciprocate this touch, but he pretty consistently makes the concession of allowing it. They're feeling each other out, trying to work out "who are you to me and what do I feel for you?" It's one of the elements of Kyman that makes the ship so endearing, I think. There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway.

Definitely! You’re right, Cartman does seem to seek out physical contact with Kyle considerably more than with anyone else he isn’t directly romantically involved with and my favourite instances of this is when he does so under the guise of antagonizing him. Two examples of this are the whole ‘Jennifer Lopez’-thing in “Fat Butt and Pancake Head” and Cartman promoting Kyle to the Germans in “Funnybot”. In both cases he uses an instance of disrespecting Kyle as a front to compliment him, with the ‘Jennifer Lopez’-persona constantly being gushing over him, telling him how much she likes him, calling him ‘handsome’ and of course ‘kissing’ him by Cartman pressing his hand against Kyle’s mouth. This is especially interesting considering the fact that later in the episode it is very heavily implied (and then pretty much outright confirmed in “200”) that Cartman really doesn’t have full control over the character. In “Funnybot” Cartman calls Kyle either ‘gentle/soft’ or ‘juicy’ (lol), ‘pretty’, and ‘very beautiful’ in extremely mangled German (which I guess is just regular German in-universe since the native speakers talk just like that) and while the context of the scene is obviously very dark for the viewer, who can infer what’s going on, Kyle doesn’t actually seem to realise what is happening. He doesn’t appear to understand what is being said at all and as such Cartman doesn’t even really have the excuse that he’s teasing him.

This scene fits the reaction you described that Kyle tends to have when Cartman engages him in physical contact very well: Kyle reacts to Cartman excessively touching him with confusion but simply lets it happen. He has every reason to be wary of Cartman’s intentions and yet he makes no effort to stop him from what he’s doing. In “ManBearPig” Kyle wakes up to find Cartman leaning over him and while he doesn’t actually touch him, he does get extremely close to him, giving us the famous image of their faces mere inches apart. Kyle’s reaction to this is incredibly understated: He appears at most slightly irritated and attempts neither to push Cartman off nor to move away from him. Once again, he mostly just seems confused by Cartman’s behaviour but, as far as we can see, makes no further attempts to investigate the reasons behind it. This understated reaction is an indication of an (imo) often overlooked aspect of their relationship, which is that while Kyle is well aware of what Cartman is theoretically capable of, he doesn’t actually seem worried that he’d ever seriously harm him. Personally, if I found myself trapped in a cave with a person who constantly professes his hatred for me and whom I know has no qualms about killing people, and then woke up to find said person looming over me in my sleep I’d be much more worried than Kyle appears to be. In fact, considering everything that has happened over the course of their relationship and how many despicable things Cartman has done, Kyle seems Weirdly Comfortable And Safe With His Evil, Ill-Intentioned Friend. Because that’s what they are: They’re friends. To call it a complicated friendship might be an understatement but when it comes down to it the simple fact of the matter is that these two do like each other. While in earlier seasons a point could be made that they only spend time together out of necessity (with the main four being somewhat isolated from the other kids, as Craig points out in “Pandemic 2”, and Cartman originally being an incidental part of the group as ‘the friend no one likes’), they’ve both long since expanded their social circles to a point where they are no longer ‘forced’ to spend time together for lack of better options. Kyle would be more than justified in cutting Cartman off completely and yet he doesn’t and I can honestly see no real reason for this other than the fact that he simply cares about him as a person.

So I agree that Kyle probably wouldn’t react with disgust to the hypothetical reveal that Cartman harbours romantic feelings towards him. I’m not claiming that he would necessarily be elated but I’m pretty sure ‘disgust’ would not be his first reaction and I think many people who think that it would be might at least partially hold that opinion due to projection: Because while we, as viewers, are frequently meant to find Cartman repulsive both physically and emotionally (his embodiment of the 'fat bastard' trope is a key part of his character, after all), Kyle doesn’t actually appear to overtly feel that way about him – which is to say he does kinda but not exclusively and it’s all just a bit more complicated than that. Kyle being thoroughly confused does seem like the most likely reaction to me. Regarding the physical aspect: Of course Kyle frequently makes derogatory remarks about Cartman’s appearance, specifically regarding his weight (to the point where it’s been a main focus of their dynamic for almost thirty years) but we see several times that his critique actually seems to stem from a place of worry and that he feels bad when he thinks that these comments have actually managed to hurt his feelings (e.g. “Raising the Bar”). Of course, what exactly Kyle’s feelings towards Cartman are is, with good reason, a source of much discussion and I’d claim that Kyle himself isn’t very sure of this. His sentiment towards Cartman definitely seems very erratic, with Kyle going from actively attempting to get him killed in “Fatbeard” to being concerned for his emotional well-being just a season later (“201”, “Poor and Stupid”). This concern Kyle has for a person he supposedly can’t stand has been a pretty consistent part of his character in later seasons and it’s especially striking when compared to the way he disregards his best friend’s feelings when he’s in genuine need of emotional support (“Raisins”, “You’re Getting Old”). This discrepancy is not only an indicator of the complicated relationship Kyle has with Cartman but imho also hints at at least one reason for it. In a (painfully long-winded😅) comment on AO3 I just touched on the similarities between Kyle and Cartman how interesting I find the very different ways in which they deal with their shared character traits. I believe this is something that draws them towards each other, though I’m certain that neither is actually consciously aware of this. You put it so beautifully in your last sentence: "There's this sweetness to it that absolutely should not exist between these characters, but does anyway." There really is an unexpectedly soft underbelly to their relationship that is a lot of fun to explore. While I wont deny the toxic aspects of this ship (in fact, they’re a major part of what I find interesting about it), there is also the surprising potential for a real emotional connection between these characters.

[1117-yungi]

SONG BIRD. jung wooyoung x fem!reader [4.8k]

in the infamous lounge, a singer performs for the one man who always breaks her heart — the untouchable owner. their reunions crackles with passion and pain. in his world of glittering façades, love is never enough, and you're left singing to ghosts of what could have been.

genre. rich!wooyoung, club owner!wooyoung, singer!reader, smut, angsty, toxic situationship, he is kinda insufferable but its hot, little porn with a lot of plot

warnings. toxic woo, swearing, manipulation, gaslighting, smut, pull-out method (don't do this guys), choking, switch!wooyoung, switch!reader, oral: m receiving, fingering, orgasm denial, pet names: songbird, angel, darling, baby, and bunny, hair pulling, praise and degradation, bittersweet ending, they're not good for each other guys!!!, size kink if u squint, implied dub-con tbh, power play dynamics, let me know if theres anymore!

note. hide the scissors from wooyoung rn

the dim haze of the lounge cast long shadows on the plush, velvet booths and the lacquered piano. smoke curled lazily in the air, mingling with the faint clink of glasses and the low hum of idle chatter. you stood beneath the spotlight, a figure draped in silver, your dress catching the low light like a thousand tiny stars. your voice pouring over the room like honey over jagged glass. the microphone in your hand felt heavy, but nothing was heavier than the weight in your chest as you sang.

each word slipped from your lips, the kind of voice that made people stop in their tracks, made them feel things they'd been too afraid to feel. your voice was sweet, but raspy in the best way possible — the crowd watched with newfound fascination, the other acts providing background music for the illegal activities. but you, you were the main act. though tonight, your eyes weren’t scanning the crowd. you weren't looking for applause. you were looking for him.

and there he sat in the corner, a million-dollar smile on his face, surrounded by men in sharp suits and women with sharp laughs and seductive stares. his watch gleamed under the dim light, a beacon of everything he was — untouchable, unattainable, a mirage with no end. but when your voice reached him, his head turned ever so slightly, like the string you had tied between them had just been tugged. his eyes had found yours.

you didn't falter, didn't let your emotions bleed into the lyrics. not yet.

you'd met him before, on nights much like this one, when the world seemed coated in gold and the air hummed with possibility. he was the kind of man you never really forgot; the man who walked into a room and owned it without hesitation. a man made of money, of charm, of tragedy.

tonight, though, there was something different in his gaze. as you sang the final note, he rose, leaving behind the world that adored him, the entourage, the whispers. he walked backstage towards where you were.

"you always knew how to break my heart," wooyoung murmured, his voice like bourbon, smooth but burning. it made you freeze in your tracks, turning your head towards the voice.

"and you always knew how to make me let you," you replied, your lips curving into a bittersweet, forced smile.

it was always the same between them. he was a million-dollar man, but his worth was his undoing. you were the girl who saw through it all and loved him anyway, knowing he could never stay.

"play me a song, darling," he said, his voice low, as if he knew this moment might be their last.

you didn’t ask why. you never did.

fingers trembling as the two of you sat down on the bench of the piano you had practiced at for ages. with a deep sigh, you played the melody that lived in your heart, the one you'd written for him long ago. the room around them disappeared, the crowd, the smoke, the lights. it was just them, a girl in silver and a man who carried the weight of the world in his eyes. even backstage, away from the crowd, it felt suffocating.

when the final note faded, he pressed his lips together in a firm, his tongue playing with the ring in his lip. he let his fingers ghost over the keys, not playing, just feeling. "you deserve better than this," he murmured, his gaze distant, his hands now stilling against one of the keys, his pinky grazing yours. "you deserve more than me, angel."

"and yet, here you are." you replied.

he laughed softly, the sound bittersweet yet intoxicating. "yeah. here i am."

for a moment, the world shrank to just the two of you, a singer and a man who could never be yours. he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead, his warmth lingering even as he pulled away.

"you deserve better," wooyoung said again, softer this time. then, just like always, he was gone.

you stayed at the piano, staring at the spot where he'd sat, your heart aching but your resolve steady. your eyes moved up to the piano, staring at the empty glass he left behind. you hadn't even realized that he brought it with him. a tear slipped down your cheek, but you wiped it away, knowing you'd sing the song again tomorrow night.

for the million-dollar man who never really belonged to you, but who’d stolen your soul all the same.

the lounge felt heavier tonight, like the air itself was steeped in tension. the usual haze of smoke clung tighter, the shadows darker, the applause quieter. they all felt like ghosts, lingering echoes of the night before. and you, you were here again, draped in the same silver as always. you noticed your fingers trembling as you adjusted the microphone stand, your heart heavy with a burden only he could bring. you didn't bother scanning the crowd this time — you already knew he was here.

he always was, especially when you swore you wouldn't let him get to you again.

you hadn't seen him since last night, but you could still taste the remnants of his touch on your skin, still hear the soft murmur of his voice, still feel the weight of his words pressing on your chest. you deserve better than this. you deserve more than me, angel.

it was the same old routine. the promises of distance, the whisper of something more, followed by his sudden disappearance. but this time, there was something different in the air — a thick tension that gnawed at your insides, something you couldn't shake.

when the crowd settled into their usual spot, half-distracted by their own secrets, the music began. you took the stage like clockwork, the spotlight cutting through the gloom. the microphone felt colder tonight, like it was in on the game. as you sang, your voice wavered, only for a moment, when you caught his silhouette at the corner table.

but he wasn't alone this time.

she was draped across his arm, some attractive woman with a laugh like crystal shards, glittering and sharp. she leaned into him, whispering something that made him smirk — that signature smirk as he played with his lip ring. but those fox like eyes? oh, they were on you. they always were.

the song ended, and the crowd clapped, but you barely heard it. he was already standing, already moving toward you as his hands clapped for you; it seemed taunting. the woman that had previously accompanied at his table barely seemed to notice when he had left.

"you're something else tonight, angel," he murmured when he reached you, his voice low and familiar. the way he said angel made your stomach twist, equal parts longing and fury.

"don't start," you said, stepping down from the stage. you tried to walk past him, but his hand caught your wrist, firm but careful, like he knew exactly how far he could push.

"start what?" his lips curved into a crooked grin, but his grip didn't loosen. his gaze flicked to the other patrons around him, then back to you, something unreadable behind that cool, confident exterior. "just giving you a compliment. you look beautiful, as always."

you glared at him, yanking your arm free. "you should be telling her that."

his grin faltered for half a second, but it was enough to make you feel the smallest spark of satisfaction. still, he recovered quickly, his tone dropping into something softer, almost apologetic. almost.

"don’t tell me you're jealous."

you laughed bitterly, stepping back, needing space. "of her? no. of whatever hold you have on me? yeah, maybe."

wooyoung's expression shifted, the smirk giving way to something darker, sharper. he stepped closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "you're the one who keeps singing for me. what does that say, angel?"

you stiffened, trying to keep your gaze steady, but something inside you recoiled. that voice. that look. the way he made everything feel like it was slipping through your fingers, made you doubt your own choices. you wanted to hit him, to scream, to walk out and never come back. but the worst part? he wasn't wrong.

"you don’t own me," you said, your voice trembling, not with fear, but with anger — at him, at yourself, at everything.

he tilted his head, his smile softening, dangerous. "don't i?"

"i told you," he continued, his lips curling slightly as he drew away, taking a slow, deliberate sip from his glass. "i'm not here for anything long-term. you're not the kind of girl who gets a happy ending, not with me. but i do like the way you play along."

"play along?" you repeated, voice thick with disbelief. "is that what you think this is?"

his gaze darkened, though his smile never wavered. "you're a smart girl. you know exactly what this is. you always have." his eyes softened for a moment, almost like a mask slipping. like even he didn't believe the facade. "but don't get too attached. i'm not the one you should be putting your heart into."

a sharp, bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed, vulnerable in front of him. "i know who you are," you said, voice steady but laced with a cold edge. "i'm not an idiot."

"good," wooyoung said, still leaning in, but this time there was something colder in his touch when his fingers brushed yours. his eyes held that cruel, knowing gleam. "but don't act like you don't want to be a little bit more than this."

you didn't say anything. you couldn’t. because, despite everything you told yourself, part of you did want more. you were tired of the games, the lies, the promises that never meant anything. but another part of you… the part that still clung to that impossible hope, the part that still wanted him to be something better than what he showed the world… that part wouldn't let you walk away.

and he knew it.

you watched him turn on his heel, his expensive shoes clicking against the polished floor as he started to walk away. you felt the pull, the magnetism of him drawing you in even as you knew you should turn and leave.

but then, just before he disappeared into the crowd, he glanced back over his shoulder with that same smirk, the one that never quite reached his eyes. "i'’m not done with you yet, songbird," he called out, his voice dripping with that familiar, dangerous promise.

the next few hours dragged on like a blur of muted lights and endless faces. the lounge seemed to buzz louder, more insistent, as if the world were trying to drown out the weight of the space between you and him. but you couldn't escape it. not when you could still feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin, the weight of his words on your chest.

when you finally left the stage, the air around you felt too thin, too oppressive. you hadn't seen him leave, but you knew he was gone. you always knew. he didn't need to announce his exit. it was his absence that left you hollow.

you went to the dressing room to get out of your stage outfit and into your normal clothes. it was routine and becoming old, but you hadn't made an effort to leave. you pushed through the crowd of people, smiling at their empty compliments before freezing as you tried to excuse yourself by pushing past a patron.

but wooyoung was standing there, looking as if he'd never left. his dark eyes locked onto yours instantly, the room falling away as if it were just the two of you, frozen in time. the crowd moved around you, oblivious, but you couldn't stop looking at him. couldn't stop feeling the electric pull between you.

"you always do this," you murmured, half to yourself, though your words carried across the silence.

"do what?" he asked, his voice cool but laced with something dangerous. the smirk was back, that crooked grin that never seemed to falter, like he enjoyed the power he had over you. like he knew the exact moment to strike.

"you know what i mean," you said, trying to steady yourself. but your heart was racing, your pulse quickening as he stepped closer, narrowing the gap between you.

he reached out, fingertips brushing against the back of your hand — light, gentle, but the touch sent a shiver through you.

the heat between you, the tension that had built up all night, was palpable. it was always like this, when he came close. the air turned thick, suffocating, and you couldn't tell if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. but you didn't have to decide. not yet.

he didn't wait for an invitation. without breaking eye contact, he reached out, a single finger brushing your arm — just enough to send a wave of electricity surging through your skin.

"come with me," he said simply. "i don't like waiting."

his eyes scanned your face, his gaze sharp, like he could see past every defense, every wall you'd tried to build around your heart. for a moment, he said nothing, just watching you. watching the battle in your eyes.

there was no hesitation. you knew what it meant when he said that. he wasn't asking. he was demanding — as always. you had learned long ago that when he made these kinds of demands, you couldn't say no, not really. but he always gave you an opportunity to for it.

"your friends won't like that," you said, a small attempt at playing it cool, but the words felt weak as they left your mouth. you knew it was pointless.

he raised an eyebrow. "the only person i'm interested in right now is you."

he didn't wait for you to respond. instead, he turned, almost arrogantly, like he owned the space around him, and without a word, you followed him. his presence was commanding, and you could feel the weight of it behind you. you kept your distance at first, though every step you took felt like it pulled you deeper into his orbit.

you clenched your fists, trying to fight the tremor in your hands, trying to ignore how badly your body was betraying you as you trailed behind him. you wanted to say something sharp, something cold, something that would break the connection between you. but he was already too close. his presence was too much, suffocating in the best way. and you followed him without question. god, you were weak.

"i'm not playing your games anymore, wooyoung," you said, your mouth moving faster than your thoughts could comprehend your voice wavered, and you cursed yourself for it.

he stopped in his tracks, about to reach the exit of the lounge. his lips quirked up at the corner, an almost fond smile creeping into his expression as if your defiance only made him more interested. "you say that, but you know you like it. you like the chase. the danger."

the words hit harder than they should have. you looked away, your chest tightening as he stepped even closer, until there was nowhere for you to go.

"then let me end it," he said, his voice quieter, and this time, there was no smirk, no cruel amusement. only an intensity that left your breath caught in your throat. "come with me." wooyoung looked like he would have gotten on his knees for you right then, pleading for you.

you opened your mouth to protest, to tell him to leave you alone for good, but the words wouldn’t come. so instead, you found yourself nodding, against your better judgment, against the part of you that knew this would only make things worse.

the crowd was still swirling around you, but it felt like you were in a different world. the moment he stepped closer, his hand grazing your arm as he guided you toward the exit, everything else faded. you were lost in him again.

no turning back.

the drive to his apartment was short but felt like hours. the silence between you was thick, suffocating, each passing second dragging you deeper into the inevitable. he hum of the engine only adding to the tension. you sat next to him, your hands gripping your bag tighter than necessary, the familiar burn in your chest threatening to crack you open. he didn't speak, didn’t ask you any questions. he just drove, as if this moment was already scripted. you were a part of the plan, whether you wanted to be or not. you couldn't stop your mind from racing, from thinking of everything you’d tried to ignore — the past you’d buried, the future you were too afraid to face.

when you reached the building, he didn't wait for you to say anything. his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you up the elevator without a word.

inside, his apartment was exactly what you remembered: sterile, cold, all glass and steel, but still holding that dangerous allure. the kind of space that made you feel insignificant, like a blip in a world too big for you to understand. the moment the door closed behind you, the outside world seemed to vanish. all that remained was the quiet atmosphere of his space and the man standing in front of you, looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered, and the only thing he could destroy.

there was no pretense this time. no smiles. just that intensity that always left you breathless. he stepped toward you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, until you were backed against the edge of the sleek, black sofa.

his hands reached for you, but this time, there was no game in his touch. it wasn't the same as it had been before, when he made you feel like a toy he could play with and discard. this was different. this was raw.

"you keep pretending you don't want this," he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing your lips. "but you do."

you wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but your body betrayed you again. the warmth of his touch, the deep pull of his presence, was too much to fight. you wanted to say no. you wanted to walk away.

but you didn't.

his lips were on yours before you could say anything else. a kiss that was all heat and demand, a kiss that made you forget everything but him. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

and maybe, just maybe, you couldn’t get enough of him either.

you should have known better. you should have walked away when you had the chance. but instead, you stayed. you always did. his touch overwhelmed you completely, you couldn't bring yourself to fight it. because deep down, you knew you were already lost.

you grasp onto his expensive shirt, pulling him even closer until the two of you fall down onto his lavish couch. his lip ring felt cool against your soft lips, making your mind become foggy with pleasure. he chuckled into your mouth, as if he could tell you enjoyed his piercing. he adjusted the position, resting between your legs. your legs naturally wrap around his hips, making him rut into your clothed core. you gasped at the feeling, whining against his lips.

wooyoung pulled away from your lips, much to your dismay, before he started to kiss along your neck, biting down and sucking on the flesh to create a dark mark. you mewled at the feeling, your back arching off the couch as you grabbed onto him with a newfound aggression. he whimpered from how tight your hold was on his long hair, providing him with pain mixed with pleasure.

at this revelation, you tugged his head back by hair and returned the favor. you decorated his neck with dark marks, sucking harshly on his sweet spot, which was easy enough to find. his slutty hips rubbed against your core desperately, clearly enjoying the feeling as he moaned shamelessly while you felt his cock hardening.

he tried to take control of the situation again, but you didn't let him. you flipped the both of you around, now straddling him before ripping his shirt off by the buttons. he frowned, letting out a whine, "that was expensive, baby."

"you can afford it." you whispered with a grin on your face before taking one of his nipples into your mouth. he gasped at the sensitivity as your tongue swirled around his perky, hard nipple. wooyoung had never experienced anything like this, always being the dominant. and he certainly didn't expect you to be like this. what else are you hiding from him? after a few more moments of teasing him, you crawled down to where he needed you the most.

you tugged down his pants, leaving them pooling at his ankles. oh, he was big. somehow you knew that. you gave his tip a swift kitty lick, his body visibly shaking. his eyes stayed on yours as you shoot him an innocent bat of your eyelashes. "fuckin' brat," he whispered, reaching down to your hair while he whimpered while your tongue swirled around his tip, gathering the pre-cum that leaked out.

he brushed a few stray hairs away from your face as your mouth worked him up and down in perfect rhythm, bobbing up and down. one of your hands kneaded his thighs while the other played with his balls. wooyoung let out a desperate moan at the sudden touch, he hadn't even noticed how sensitive he really was. all for your touch. you were both drunk on each other — without any alcohol in your systems. besides his very few sips of whiskey.

your jaw was hurting, pleasurably stretched by his cock, but the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat was too addictive to care about the pain. you hollowed your cheeks, trying to fit every vein that popped out as wooyoung breathed heavily, holding back with all his might not to mouth-fuck you. he felt dumb from the pleasure, growing more and more needy and desperate.

"you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing this, angel," wooyoung laughed with a whine as your tongue glided against the underside of his length, sending goosebumps all over his body. unable to hold back any longer, he harshly yanked you down, forcing his entire length into your mouth, his tip deliciously hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

you moaned at the sudden rough treatment as he rolled his hips into your mouth. despite the intensity, your tongue continued to lick and satisfy him, while he used your mouth like his personal toy, sending vibrations through your entire being.

you could feel him twitch inside you — he was almost there, ready to release. your hands pulled and kneaded his balls, giving them one cheeky little squeeze, pushing against them before pulling off of him, denying his orgasm.

wooyoung whined at the loss of your touch, pouting before raising up. he grabbed your throat and pulled you against his lips with an unmistakable hunger and desperation. he stripped off your clothes while kicking off his pants that you left. he picked you up with ease, carrying you into his room and onto the bed.

and then you ended up on his lap, with his long fingers stuffed deep inside you, curling and making a mess of you. you couldn't even remember how you had gotten into this position, too drunk and intoxicated on the feeling of his fingers hitting all the right spots. you rolled your hips eagerly, making him grin as he watched you with a smile on his face, clearly getting off on how he was making you feel.

"you're such an eager bunny, baby," he murmured over the pretty moans ringing in his ears as you leaned back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder, while he whispered the filthiest things in your ear. his hot breath tickled your skin. god, he was like a drug. "humping my fingers like you're in heat."

his thumb was rubbing your clit, making your toes curl. his words made you embarassed and your face hot, but you didn't dare correct him. "no matter where you go, you always come back to me. won't you, pretty girl?" he teased, your moans answering him.

he slid another finger inside you easily, stretching you even more. your eyes widened from the sensation; it was a mix of pleasure and pain that made tears brim in your eyes. a whimper left your throat, going straight to wooyoung's hard cock that rested against your thigh.

your tiny hand went straight to his cock, trying to stimulate him as his fingers worked your dripping cunt, moving in and out, curling, hitting all the right spots. he groaned quietly before kissing you, his tongue exploring your mouth. you tried your best to kiss him back, saliva pooling at the corner of your lips as your vision was slowly going blank, stars starting to appear. your body trembled under his relentless pace, lips parted, gasping. but he started pulling his fingers out of you.

"woo," you whined which made him scoff, watching you looking like a doll. his perfect, little doll. he slid his fingers covered with your slick into his mouth, a hum vibrating through him while swirling his tongue around them while your mouth watered at the sight. you took a heavy breath, and without speaking, reached out, pulling his fingers from his mouth, looking at him expectantly.

he swallowed hard, the look you gave him was flipping a switch in his brain. "go on, take them into your mouth."

you obliged, sliding three of his long digits into your mouth. wooyoung groaned, his eyes closing as he could fell the back of your throat at his fingertips. he couldn't take it anymore, and clearly you couldn't either.

you aligned him at your entrance, your pussy practically begging for him to fill you. that signature smug smile remained as his eyes held yours, and you gripped his shoulders as his tip pushed through your walls, stretching you deliciously as he finally bottomed out. he paused, letting you adjust to his length, and you gasped before nodding him to continue.

he began to move, each thrust slow but steady, reaching deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you. your vision blurred with pleasure as he drove into you, his pace intensifying, while his lips found yours again. he could tell you were trying to hold your moans back, and that wasn't sliding by him. he gripped your throat tightly, pulling away from the messy kiss. "sing for me, baby," he moaned.

and you did. you moaned for him, your back arching off his mattress and into his chest as his pace quickened, thrusts growing deeper. they started out calculated but soon turned sloppy and messy. his lips pressed against neck. each movement, each kiss, each moan that escaped his lips only pushed you closer to the edge until you couldn't hold back anymore.

your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into him as the building tension finally snapped, sending you spiraling into release. your nails had dug crescents into his shoulders, drawing blood slightly. and then building tension finally snapped, sending you spiraling into release. you clenched so hard around his cock, pleasure consuming you completely with your body trembling in his arms as you released your orgasm. his hips never faltered as he rode you through the high.

wooyoung's thrusts slowed as he guided you through the last waves of pleasure, his own breaths turning ragged. "come on, baby," you whispered to him, trying to catch your breath slightly. he shivered at your tone, trying to chase his own high. "cum for me." you commanded, making him whine while pulling out of you quickly. his hand jerked his cock once then twice, and warmth spilled onto your thighs as he held you close, his load shooting out onto your plush skin. he fell down beside of you after every drop left him.

after leaving for a moment to retrieve a towel, he dragged the fabric to clean you and him up. he tossed it aside and held you close to him, his fingers grazing against your skin.

when he finally pulled back, his breathing heavy, he looked at you with that same inscrutable expression. "i'm not going to let you go," he said, his voice thick, almost possessive. "not this time."

you didn't say anything. there was nothing to say. you knew you were already lost. your breath was shallow, as you tried to forget the words, tried to remember that he didn’t matter. that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. his words were just empty promises, as always.

he had already left his mark. the damage was done. and you, despite everything, knew you'd sing for him again and again.

even if it meant losing yourself in the process.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii!! could i request for a kiyora jin fic?

── WICKED GAME

Synopsis: The first time you see him, Jin Kiyora spits blood at your feet. That is when you are sure you will love him.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kiyora x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: alcohol/hangovers, reader is drunk and at a party in the first part, mentions of drug use and smoking but NOT by reader or kiyora, blood and violence, sooo much swearing at one point, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, kiyora is down to punch an mf at all times, he’s probably ooc (if it’s even possible for him to be ooc??), he is NOT bestie approved but like he’s actually a cutie i promise, open ending, implied to be a college au but there’s nothing scholarly or collegiate about it except for the party and the sports mentions, many liberties are taken with kiyora’s backstory and character alike

A/N: hiiii omg i’ve never written kiyora before!! i hope i kinda did him justice?? EEK LMAOAO okay also i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to go in a specific direction so i picked one at random and left it kinda (very) open ended so that way if you/anyone else likes it i can write a pt2 but if not it’s nbd!! it’s just that as you can see it’s already kinda long and i didn’t want to write a ton if people weren’t fucking w it yk 😭 ANYWAYS rambling aside i hope you enjoy!!

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

There is a man screaming at you. You know that he is screaming because his voice pierces the drunken haze settled over your mind, shame shooting through that spinning, floating sensation, and you know it is at you specifically because he is glaring and it’s not at your best friend or the other girl you came with, it’s at you and only you. He’s glaring and saying something over and over again, but all you can do is tilt your head at him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he says. “Get the fuck out. Why the fuck are you still here?”

More of his sentences than not are just that word. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s unnecessarily angry. You try to think — what did you do? Your best friend places one hand on your arm, and you’re pretty sure she’s telling you it’s not worth it, that you all should just go, but your drink is still half-full and you want to finish it before you leave.

“Why are you mad?” you mumble, fascinated by the pinkness of the alcohol, the way it contrasts against the white plastic of your cup.

His eyes are open and wild, and before you know it he is reaching out for you. Your best friend pulls you back just in time, and she shrieks for help as his fingers close around nothing, but the music is loud and the crowd is thick and there’s no way anyone will hear her.

You’re still confused. The man is still angry. You try to recall the conversation you’ve had with him up until this point — well, it wasn’t really much of a conversation to begin with. What had even happened? 

“He’s on something,” your best friend hisses in your ear as she ushers you through the crowd. “No way this is just a couple of beers talking. All you did was ask him if his watch was real, and he totally flipped out.”

Right, that does sound familiar. You giggle as she shoves you outside, because it’s altogether hilarious. The other girl is hanging onto your best friend’s other arm and whining about how you had to leave the party early, and your best friend’s face is pale, her hair sticking to her forehead, but you’re not thinking about any of that. At least, it’s not at the forefront of your mind; instead, you’re wondering why that man has followed the three of you.

“I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave!” he says, and it’s all you can do to lurch backwards as he stops on the porch. He’s intimidating, you can see that better in the light, and even though you’re more lost than anything, you’re pretty sure you should be afraid, too.

“Is this even your house?” you say sleepily. “Won’t the cops shut down your party first?”

It’s not his party or his house. You know that because the person who threw it is the one who invited you and your friends, but for some reason, this man is dead-set on the fact that you are some kind of intruder.

“The only ones that’ll be getting in trouble if the cops come are you guys, for fucking trespassing,” he snaps. “You’re not invited here!”

“We are,” you say. “Wanna see?”

You’re about to pull out your phone, but your best friend slaps your hand and shakes her head. The man is flushed now, and slowly, you put the phone back in your pocket, pursing your lips and avoiding his gaze.

“I’m serious. Don’t make me say it again, you fucking—”

“Woah, dude. Didn’t know that was your new thing,” a new voice says. You don’t recognize the speaker, but you can tell that he’s pretty, with dark hair and dark eyes that shimmer in the flickering porch light. He’s sitting on the porch swing, his feet kicked up on the railing, and there’s an unlit cigarette in his hands. When he notices you staring at it, he shrugs and flicks it to the ground. “It’s not mine. Some girl asked if I wanted it and left before I could say no.”

“Kiyora,” the man sneers. His attention has been diverted entirely, and the newcomer — Kiyora — stands casually, lazily. He’s slouching, but you can tell despite his posture that he’s a slip of a person, with needle-like features and a scowl that somehow resembles a grin. 

“Sup,” he says. “You into bothering girls now?”

“Stay out of this,” the man says. “You weren’t invited, either.”

“Eh,” Kiyora says. “I don’t need an invitation.”

“I’m being serious,” he said. “You don’t get what a fucking bitch she is.”

Kiyora glances over at you, and it’s like he’s weighing his options. And although it would be just as easy for you to run — it’s what your best friend is urging you to do, it’s what you should do — you can’t help but wait. You can’t help but want to know what he’ll decide.

“Y/N,” your best friend pleads. “Come on, let’s just go while we can.”

“I want another drink,” the other girl says. “Just one more shot? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“No more shots tonight,” your best friend says. “Y/N, I’m being serious.”

That’s when Kiyora smiles slightly, and then he’s drawing his fist back and punching the man. Your best friend gasps, and even the other girl yelps, but you are enthralled by it. The man howls, and then he’s charging at Kiyora and they’re falling down the porch stairs and it’s a whirlwind of blows and shouts and cursing as they rip up the grass of the front yard with the fury of their spat.

It’s over almost as soon as it begins. The man’s collar is clenched in one of Kiyora’s fists, and his eyes are glimmering with tears at the way Kiyora looms over him, the other fist prepared to hit him again. The hollows of the man’s face are all blue and bruised, and he slaps lightly against Kiyora’s forearm in surrender. Kiyora gives him a measured look that’s somehow mocking, and then he lets him go. He stays on the ground, lying prone and motionless, and your best friend — she’s always been so empathetic, even though hardly anyone ever deserves it — tells the other girl to sit and wait before she rushes inside to alert the owner of the house.

“There we go,” Kiyora says, dusting himself off and springing to his feet, rolling his shoulders like he’s waking up from a long nap. “What a wimp. Can’t be talking that kind of shit if you don’t even have the skills to back it up.”

“You stood up for me,” you say. “Thank you.”

He raises his eyebrows, and then he makes a face. You realize he’s not escaped unscathed at the exact moment that he spits a mouthful of blood into the grass before you, his lower lip shiny and split, the same angry color as the crimson in the grass. You gaze at the way it dissolves into the dirt, and then you step over it, meaning to embrace him but mostly just collapsing into his arms. He catches you by reflex, not out of desire, and then he snorts.

“It’s not like I really did it for you, so don’t thank me,” he says. His nose is bleeding, too. You’re sure of it, because something warm dribbles onto your shirt, the stain blooming like rust against the lacy left strap. It’s a white top, thin and deep in the front, and it’s one of your favorites, but shockingly, you’re not angry that it’s been ruined.

“Why’d you do it, then?” you say.

“Couldn’t tell you,” he says. “I guess I just thought that your side was the right one to pick this time.”

To you, it sounds like the same thing, but it must’ve meant something different, because he sounds incredibly sure of himself. You hum in agreement, and then Kiyora nudges you off of him, motioning over to where the other girl — she’s your best friend’s new roommate, and you think her name might start with a C, but you can’t really recall — is sitting on the curb alone.

“Go sit with your friend,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, though you pause before you can join her. “Wait. Is your name Kiyora?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Y/N,” you say. “I’m Y/N.”

“’Kay,” he says. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Nice to meet you, Kiyora.”

He finds this funny, chuckling as you stumble over to the curb, sitting next to the girl, who’s texting someone with a big red x in their contact name. That probably means she shouldn’t be talking to them, but all you do is lean your head against her shoulder. You’re not the type to reprimand anyone, not when you’re like this. Maybe a few drinks or a few hours earlier, you would’ve said something, but at the moment, your mind is preoccupied with your newest fixation.

Your best friend comes out with the owner of the house, and then she makes a beeline for where you are sitting. Helping you to your feet, she drags you back in the direction of her apartment, plucking her roommate’s phone out of her hands and ignoring her arguments, instead turning to you.

“What the hell happened to your shirt?” she says. “Did that — did they hurt you too? Are you okay?”

“What?” you say. “No, I’m fine. Hey, listen. I want him.”

“Want who?” she says.

“Kiyora,” you say. 

“The dude who beat that other guy up?” she says. You nod. Her brows knit together, and she shakes her head. “You need to sober up.”

“I’ll still want him when I’m sober,” you say.

“Then you’re sick in the head,” she says. “But I guess that’s nothing new.”

The next morning, you wake up on your best friend’s couch. Your makeup is blurred and messy on your face, the remnants of your mascara forming dark shadows under your eyes, and your clothes are rumpled. You are close to throwing up, and your head is pounding, so you trudge over to the bathroom, which is thankfully empty. 

In the mirror, things look even worse. Your once-white shirt has remnants of your drink splashed on the front, and the left strap is a flaky sanguine, the color bleeding into the place where your heart beats behind your breast. It’s frightening at first, but dimly, you remember that the blood is not your own. It nearly could’ve been, but it isn’t, because you were saved. Someone took your side, and he saved you, and it’s his blood that you’re covered in.

“Damn.” It’s your best friend’s other roommate, the one who didn’t go out with you three last night. You don’t remember her name, either, or maybe she just never introduced herself. “What kind of night did you have?”

“Not my best,” you admit with a yawn. 

“Yeah, no shit,” she says, going to the other sink and running her toothbrush under the water. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you say, because anything more makes the knife in your head twist more and more. “Just need a shower. Some dude freaked out on us last night.”

“Is that what happened?” she says. “D’you need a doctor or something?”

“It’s not mine,” you say. “Some other guy fought him off for me. His nose bled all over my shoulder when I tried hugging him afterwards.”

“What a hero,” she says, running a washcloth along her face. “Was he cute?”

“Does that matter?” you say. She winks at you in the mirror.

“Obviously. If he’s good-looking, you should try to find him and thank him while you’re sober. If he’s not, then you can just let it go,” she says. 

“Yeah, he was cute,” you say after thinking about it for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I liked him. Last night, I mean.”

“Yeah?” she says. “Did you get a name or some other way to contact him?”

“Uh, his name is Kiyora, I think,” you say. 

“Kiyora?” she says. “What does he look like?”

“He’s not that tall,” you say. “Dark hair. Pretty eyes, though I can’t quite remember what color they were.”

“I can’t say I know him,” she says. “Maybe you can try social media, though.”

“I think that might be my best bet,” you agree, taking off your shirt and tossing it to the ground, stepping out of your pants and reaching into the cabinet for a spare towel. “Do you mind if I just shower in here?”

“No worries, I’m almost done,” she says, squeezing sunscreen out of a small tube and massaging it into her cheeks. “You know how to work the shower?”

“Yup. Spent more nights here than I’d like to admit,” you said. The girl laughs at this, patting you on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. Better you’re here than with some random guy, though, right?” she says.

“Right,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Hope you can find him!” she says, and then she’s shutting the bathroom door behind her. You reach out and lock it before stripping fully, turning the faucet so that the water is as hot as you can bear and then sighing as it streams onto your face and body, rinsing off all of the proof of the previous night.

You kick your dirty clothes into a pile in the corner, wrapping a towel around your body and leaving the bathroom in a rush of steam. Your best friend is waiting in the kitchen, sipping coffee from a chipped mug, her hair in a messy bun and an untouched bowl of cereal in front of her. When she notices you, she smiles.

“Good morning,” she says. 

“Good morning,” you say, ducking into her bedroom and pulling on the clothes you’d left in her closet weeks ago for times like these. 

“How are you today?” she says.

“I’ve been better,” you say. “But I’m alive.” 

“Want breakfast?” she says.

“I might throw up if I eat,” you say.

“You’ll definitely throw up if you don’t. Just eat something light,” she says, gesturing in the direction of her pantry, as if to say take what you want.

You sit across from her, a random snack with bears on the packaging in one hand and your phone in the other. There’s a litany of unread text messages that you need to go through, so you squint your eyes against the glare of the screen and begin to read them.

Most of them are just people from the party asking you if you’re doing alright, since to their knowledge you left abruptly and without explanation. There’s one from your own roommate, asking you if you’ve watered the plants on the balcony in the past few days or not. You give one-or-two word answers to the majority, but there’s one message that catches your eye.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m really sorry about last night — apparently that guy brought a whole cocktail of drugs with him, and that’s why he went all crazy. I hope you’re okay, and that you don’t think badly of me now.’

There’s a crying emoji followed by a praying one. It’s the guy who invited you and your best friend to the party; ordinarily, you would’ve blocked him, but now you need his help, so, with a frown, you type out your response.

‘Honestly, it was pretty scary, but luckily that other guy was there, so nothing too awful happened. Speaking of which, do you know anything about him?’

There’s a pause that you can only imagine is him typing out his response, and then your darkening phone screen lights up with a notification.

‘Kiyora? He’s on the soccer team with a couple of my other friends. He’s not really close with any of them, but he’ll show up to our parties every now and again if they let him know where the address is. He’s kind of weird, but I guess it’s a good thing he happened to be there last night.’

‘Hm.’

‘His first name’s Jin, and apparently he’s addicted to grape candy — everyone makes fun of him for it. That’s about all I know.’

‘Thanks anyways.’

‘Anytime! Hope to see you at another party :)’

You consider blocking him now that you’ve gotten everything you can out of him, but there’s no point, so you just turn your phone off without responding, laying it face-down so you can ignore whoever else tries to reach out to you. Your best friend finally takes a bite of her cereal; you don’t know if she’s inspired by you or if she’s finally finished with her coffee. When you look over at her mug, you find it’s the latter.

“How much do you remember?” she asks you.

“Enough,” you say. “I’m going to find him.”

“Kiyora?” she says. When you nod, she can only pinch the bridge of her nose. “I should’ve known.”

“What do you have against him? He helped us out,” you say.

“Besides the fact that he beat that guy’s face into a pulp?” she says.

“That guy would’ve done the same to me,” you say.

“Not if you had just left when I told you to,” she reminds you. You can’t rebut this, and she knows it, because she tries her level best to avoid sounding condescending in the ensuing statement. “That’s the kind of person that you’re supposed to avoid, you know.”

“We don’t know anything about him,” you say. “We can’t judge him based on one night, especially given the circumstances.”

“That’s true,” she says. She’s like that, always quicker to give allowances than you are. You’re sure she’ll forgive him before he even realizes he’s done anything to forgive. “So, what, you just want to see what kind of person he is and go from there?”

“Basically,” you say, even though the more you mull it over, the more you’re convinced that there’s not really much that’ll change your mind. She wipes at a droplet of milk that lingers on the corner of her mouth, and then she exhales heavily.

“Yeah, alright,” she says. “I don’t think anything I say is going to stop you, so why bother?”

“You know me so well,” you say. “Want anything from the convenience store? I need to get some aspirin. My head is killing me.”

“Mine, too,” she says with a groan. “Can you get a pack for me? I think we’re out.”

“Sure,” you say, slinging your purse over your shoulder and shoving your feet in a pair of slippers. You’re pretty sure you look horrible, all lumpy and formless in an outfit that’s about two sizes too large for you, but you can’t be bothered to change, and at least you’re clean, which is more than you could say an hour ago. Waving at your best friend, you leave her apartment, careful to shut the door slowly, so as not to wake up her final roommate, who is still sleeping soundly. You envy her a bit, but then again, if you had woken up any later, you’d have had to add grogginess to your list of complaints, so maybe it’s for the best.

The convenience store is fairly empty. There’s a cashier dozing off by the checkout station, and a television showing the security footage — you stop and wave at your reflection, as you always do — but other than that, you’re the only one in the building.

As you’re browsing through the medicine section, weighing the merits of buying the generic version or if you should just get the name-brand, there is the swooshing sound of the automatic doors sliding open. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, so you pick up two boxes of the generic kind and make your way to the cashier, but then you freeze, because the figure which has slipped into the candy section is one you wouldn’t normally pay attention to but has suddenly become one you are particularly concerned with.

“Kiyora!” you hiss, ducking into the candy aisle. To your delight, he spins around at once, and he looks much the same as you remembered him from the previous night, which means it really is him. A violet mark stands out angrily against the paleness of his cheek, and his lower lip is still a bit swollen, but he wears it well, like some kind of badge of honor. 

At first, he narrows his eyes at you, but then they light up with recognition, and he smiles imperceptibly. It’s barely there, barely enough to be qualified as a smile in the first place, yet you know that that’s what it is.

“Hey,” he says. “Hangover hitting you bad?”

He’s talking about the medicine in your hands. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Pretty much,” you say. “What about you?”

“I didn’t drink last night,” he says. “It’s bad for your body, and I’m supposed to maintain mine. Top athlete and all, you know how it is.”

This is accompanied by a subtle roll of his eyes, and you snicker at his impudence.

“Naturally,” you say. “But I was referring more to, ah…that.”

You don’t really know a more graceful way to refer to it, but he seems to pick up on what you’re talking about.

“I’ve had worse,” he says. “He really was all bark and no bite. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Still, thank you again,” you say.

“Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t for you? Don’t say thanks. It’s embarrassing,” he says.

“On my part or yours?” you say.

“Both,” he says.

“Alright, sorry,” you say. “But wait. What do you mean, you’ve had worse?”

“I dabbled in boxing for a while,” he says.

“You played two affiliated sports at once?” you say. “That’s impressive.”

“Well, one of them wasn’t affiliated,” he says, stooping over and picking up a box of grape candy — of course, he was reputedly obsessed with it, so you shouldn’t have been surprised by his presence in the convenience store at all. “I guess a better name would be street fighting. My older brother got into it after he didn’t cut it as a soccer player, and he convinced me to try it out for a bit. It was good money.”

“That’s cool,” you say, somewhat at a loss for words, finding it all too easy to imagine him in that kind of situation.

“Lame as hell, actually,” he says. “I’m better at soccer, anyways.”

He says it so nonchalantly that you have to laugh. He’s taken aback, and he doesn’t laugh along with you, but he’s clearly not upset, because that same not-smile remains on his face.

“That’s good to hear,” you say. “I don’t know if my best friend would approve of me talking to an underground street fighter.”

“You can safely tell her I’m reformed,” he says. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“You remembered?” you say.

“I told you I didn’t drink last night. Why would I forget?” he says. 

“That’s true,” you say. “Yeah. Y/N.”

“Got any reason to be talking to me against your best friend’s wishes, Y/N?” he says, walking by your side towards the cashier. The way your name sounds coming from him is different. He says it like it’s the final piece to a game that he’s been wanting to play, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but if it’s the latter, then it’s too late. Somehow, he’s made it so that this game is one you want to play, too, or maybe it’s that you’re playing it already, have been playing it since before you even knew of its existence.

“I guess our ideas of what’s in my best interests just don’t align,” you say.

“Is that so? What does she believe to be in your best interests?” he says.

“Staying away from you,” you say.

“And you?” he says.

“The opposite,” you say, swiping your credit card and putting the twin boxes of medicine into the wide front pocket of your sweatshirt. He does the same, opening the box of grape candy and popping a piece into his mouth. You notice that he does not offer you one, but you weren’t hoping he would, so you’re not disappointed or anything. Just amused.

“Interesting,” he says. “What about me makes you sure that being around me is in your best interests?”

“I’m sure my chances of getting hurt will be a lot less, for one,” you say. 

“Not necessarily,” he says. “Maybe I won’t take your side one day. Maybe I’ll be the one to hurt you. Then what happens?”

“Hm,” you say. It’s such a bizarre thing to say to someone who you’ve only met one-and-a-half times — the meeting last night only counts for half, considering how out of your mind you were — but he does it with a straight face, like it’s a serious dilemma. “I don’t think you’d do that.”

“You don’t?” he says.

“Nah,” you say. “I’d never provoke you into fighting me.”

“How can you be sure of that?” he says. You tear open the aspirin’s cardboard packaging, swallowing the pill dry and praying it works quickly. It catches in your throat, so you swallow again in an attempt to dislodge it. Kiyora watches you, and once you are successful in the endeavor, he silently hands you a piece of grape candy.

“People tell me I’m easy to get along with,” you say. The candy is sour and sparkles in your mouth; you do your best to savor the taste, but it’s gone as soon as you’re aware of it, melting away into air on your tongue.

“That guy from last night didn’t seem to think so,” he points out.

“He was mad that I asked if his watch was real. Normal people wouldn’t care about that,” you say. “I doubt you would.”

“I guess I wouldn’t,” he says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you say, though you don’t quite know what you’re agreeing to. He gives you another piece of candy, and then he actually smiles; the tip of his tongue is purple, too, just like that bruise of his. You wonder if yours will turn the same shade, and then you accept the candy regardless. It’s kind of delightful, the thought of matching with him in that secret way.

“You’re kind of funny, Y/N,” he says. 

“I do my best,” you say. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“You’re probably the only person who thinks that,” he says.

“Then maybe the others are missing out,” you say. He glances at the ground, but you think he seems happy, not upset.

“Maybe,” he says.

“Anyways, I should probably get back,” you say, because you’ve reached the intersection where you have to turn right, and it seems he has every intention of going straight. “But I can see you again, right?”

He cocks his head at you, and then, magically, he produces a pen from the pocket of his sweatpants, which are of that infuriating depth that supposedly only men deserve. Scribbling something on the box of grape candy, he presses it in your hand.

“Later,” he says, because the light has changed and he has to cross the street now. You watch him go, and then you peer at the small box. His handwriting is cramped and spiky, but you can make it out without too much trouble.

The box is empty, devoid of anything sweet, but he’s given you a much greater treasure, so you hold it close to your heart as you scurry to your best friend’s apartment, trying to fight back the grin that threatens to split your face the entire way back.

“So, let me get this straight — he gave you his phone number?” your best friend says. She had showered in the time you spent at the convenience store, and now that she has an aspirin in her system and moisturizer on her face, she looks like an entirely different person, a brighter and more cheerful one who isn’t going to judge you for whatever you say next.

“Yes,” you say, incredibly focused on creating a new contact for Kiyora. “That’s a good sign, right?”

“Depends on who you’re asking,” she says. 

“Me,” you say.

“Then yeah, I’d say so,” she says. “He’s obviously into you.”

“I hope so,” you say.

“Who wouldn’t be?” she says. “You know what this means, right? It’s time for us to do reconnaissance.”

You grin, because you know exactly what that means. She pulls out her tablet and opens it to a random social media site, and so begins your investigation into the enigma that is Jin Kiyora.

“What the fuck?” you say. The two of you have been working for longer than you’d like to admit, yet you’ve learned frighteningly little about him. He plays soccer, and he seems to be quite good at it, given the few blurry highlights you managed to dredge up from his high school days. He has two brothers, both of whom post a ton but never about him. He once made the news in his hometown for breaking the mayor’s son’s nose — your best friend clicks her tongue at that, but you are sure he had a reason for doing it, so you remain unfazed. Otherwise, though, there’s nothing. He’s inactive on social media, which makes you doubly glad that you ran into him earlier, and if he has friends, then none of them seem to want to make that information public.

“It’s like he doesn’t exist,” your best friend says. “Honestly, I kind of fuck with it.”

“That’s a change of tune,” you say. She hums, typing something into her tablet and then shaking her head when the search results come up empty.

“Well, you know. It’s always nice when a man isn’t active online. Although, then again, in this case it could be because he doesn’t want a digital footprint that incriminates him or something,” she says.

“He’s not a criminal,” you say. She taps her finger against the article about him breaking the mayor’s son’s nose, and you cringe. “Okay, but he wasn’t arrested for that, so I’m technically still right.”

“Uh, sure, but this is the second account we have of him getting in a fight. Who knows? Maybe it’s like a hobby for him,” she says. At that moment, you decide to omit the fact that it actually was a hobby for him until an indeterminate amount of time ago. 

“We don’t know why he did it,” you say. “Maybe the mayor’s kid was a bully. The guy last night definitely was. Come on, you can’t say you’re not at least a little grateful to him for stepping in and sticking up for us.”

He has insisted twice now that he didn’t do it for you, but you’ll take anything that endears him to your best friend, so you don’t mention that, either.

“That whole situation was terrifying,” she says, hugging herself tightly. “For one, it was scary that that guy flipped out on you, but it’s not like seeing Kiyora beat him up was particularly soothing.”

“You’re nicer than me by far,” you say, for probably the thousandth time. “I found it pretty gratifying to watch. I mean, he had no trouble threatening us; why shouldn’t he have had to back up his words with action? Obviously, he wasn’t expecting us to be able to fight back, so he ran his mouth to his heart’s content, but he had the misfortune of doing it in front of the wrong person, and he got what was coming for him. That’s his fault. So, in a sense, what Kiyora did was just a form of justice.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” she says. “I still kinda feel bad for the other guy, considering he definitely wasn’t in his senses, and after all Kiyora did punch him first, but it was a tense atmosphere. Who knows how another person might’ve reacted? It’s wrong to judge when things were so precarious and prone to snapping at any second. Of course, what he did wasn’t perfect, but you can’t really expect perfection from anyone, can you?”

Again, she’s better than you. You don’t know if you will ever feel bad for the man from last night, or if you could ever forgive someone as quickly as she has forgiven Kiyora. But if you count all of the times she’s proven to be the gentler of you two, it’ll take you ages, so you just add this occasion to the list and internally celebrate your good fortune.

“I’m going to text him,” you say, showing her your phone screen.

“What are you going to say?” she says.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Maybe hi, to start?”

“Make sure you add your name, since he doesn’t have your number,” she says.

“Oh, good idea,” you say, typing out your initial message and handing it to her so she can proofread it. She nods, and you hit send, a pit forming in your stomach as you wait for a text back.

‘Hi! This is Y/N from earlier!’

It’s almost immediate, his response, and you high-five your best friend when your phone vibrates, deciding to forget the whole play-it-cool advice that’s so predominant online and opening it immediately.

‘Hi Y/N.’

A second later, there’s another buzz, and another text. You laugh when you see it, because it’s very tongue-in-cheek and already, you can imagine the kind of expression that he’s wearing as he’s typing, although you hardly know him.

‘This is Kiyora btw.’

“He’s not afraid to joke around,” your best friend says, reading over your shoulder. “That’s a good sign. Imagine he was super dry and boring over text. You’d have to ghost him.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “What should I say now?”

Before she can respond, he’s sent another text. This earns a round of applause and a whoop from her, albeit a quiet one, since the roommate you went out with last night is somehow still asleep.

“Triple text!” she says. “This is great! Ah, I mean. It’s great if you still want him.”

“Of course I do,” you say, heat rising in your face as you realize what’s he’s just asked you.

‘So. Are you free next Saturday?’

The restaurant Kiyora tells you to meet him at is the opposite of fancy. You almost mistake it for a gas station, because it’s right next to one and located at random on the side of the road, but luckily you stop the car in time and manage to pull into the parking lot. You’re a little overdressed, but at least you’ll make a good impression, or so you hope, because the last few times you’ve seen him haven’t exactly shown off your greatest assets.

He’s already inside, though he hasn’t sat at a table yet and you’re ten minutes early. The place is almost empty save for him and a few employees, and the lights are a harsh, fluorescent white that throws his features into greater relief, but the effect’s a little angelic. A bell chimes to announce your entrance, and he glances over his shoulder, his furrowed brow relaxing when he sees that it’s you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say. A cheesy ballad from either the late 80s or the early 90s plays from the radio at the counter, and a ceiling fan whirs in the background, but it’s otherwise pretty quiet.

“It’s my uncle’s place,” he says, leading you to a table without waiting for the hostess — a girl of probably about sixteen or seventeen, who’s playing on her phone and doesn’t look up at either of you — to do anything. “Got him to close early for the night so it’s just us.”

“Oh, wow,” you say. “Thank you. That’s actually really sweet.”

He hands you a menu. “I don’t like being around that many people. It’s a little claustrophobic.”

“I get it,” you say. “I think every time I’ve ended up in a big crowd, it’s ended kinda badly for me, so it’s nice to not have to worry about that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he says. For a moment, neither of you say anything, though probably for different reasons — he’s busy reading a menu, and you’re trying to think of a way to bring up his past grievances, especially the ones of the punching-a-mayor’s-son variety, without sounding like a stalker.

“What made you quit street fighting?” you say.

“Do you want appetizers?” he says, at exactly the same time. Then he pauses, your question registering. “Oh.”

“Appetizers are good,” you say.

“It was just too much,” he says. “I don’t know. I never liked it. I only stayed because I got paid well, but it became more trouble than it was worth.”

“What’s that mean?” you say. He’s obviously a bit uncomfortable with the line of questioning, squirming in his seat, but your best friend is right. That’s the kind of thing you should probably know about him before you let yourself get any deeper.

“The mayor’s jackass son started showing up, placing bets and all. He was a real dick,” he begins. You’re surprised that you’ve ended up at your end goal already; you were sure it’d take a bit more prodding until you reached the heart of the story, but it seems you’ve chanced upon it without even trying. He rolls his eyes and scoffs as he continues. “One time he asked if he could try fighting himself. Picked me as his opponent because I was the shortest and, therefore, the weakest. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you say, though not without a snicker, because from what you know of him, you doubt he could be considered the weakest in any company. “Then what?”

“Then I did the world a favor and broke his ugly fucking nose so he had an excuse to fix it, that’s what,” he says. “His dad wasn’t too happy.”

“That’s to be expected,” you say.

“Yup. After that, he told me I had to get my act together or there would be real disciplinary consequences, so I gave it up and focused everything I had on soccer instead,” he says. 

“I’m glad,” you say.

“Are you?” he says.

“You probably don’t get hurt quite as much playing soccer,” you say. “Even though it’s possible to get injured, it’s not as common.”

“True,” he says. “Most players are just faking it, anyways, so it’s definitely not common in the slightest.”

“Well, that’s all. I think it’s better that you don’t get hurt,” you say. “I don’t want you to. So stick with soccer.”

His lips form a thin, hard line, but there are dimples in his cheeks that make it obvious what he’s trying to suppress. Clearing his throat, he reopens his menu and points at one of the appetizers.

“Is this one alright with you?” he asks.

You’re looking at him when you answer, not the menu. Whatever it is, you’ll eat it, or if it’s really horrible, you’ll leave it for him. You’d rather spend that precious second admiring his features when he’s unaware of your gaze. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes flick up to meet your own, and then, impossibly, a pale pink blush dusts across his nose and cheeks.

“I’ll tell my uncle that that’s what we want, then,” he says, standing up and darting off towards the kitchens without another word. He walks with a kind of intrinsic rhythm, like he’s dancing, though there’s nothing about his gait otherwise that suggests any sort of musicality. It’s fascinating. He’s fascinating. 

You are certain, before he even returns, before you even eat, before you even part ways, that this will not be the last time you see him. At least you pray it won’t be, because you think you’re like a moth, and he’s like a flame, and there’s enough stories about moths and flames that you know how these things typically end, or at least you’re pretty sure you do. It doesn’t matter, though. None of it matters, because you’ve never been so utterly taken by anything the way you are with Jin Kiyora and his bruised face and his split knuckles and his grape-colored tongue.

There’s another thing you’re certain of now, or have been for a while: you don’t love him yet, of course you don’t, but you will. Inescapably, inevitably, you will.

[imustbenuts]

the hundred line coming of age route thoughts about the narrative and eito. (general spoilers)

the guy's officially multiplied inside my brain. anyway.

this route made me laugh a lot. thinking about how eito was defeated with the power of friendship that he helped curate gives me the giggles.

but thats not the real intersting bit for me. i found it interesting on a game mechanical level how much this route mirrors the beat of the 2nd scenario (that branches into truth and rebellion routes), but consistently refused to let me/the player pick decisions for takumi at the parts where he should.

in effect here, eito has hijacked the decisions for takumi and the latter willingly lets him subconsciously or not. takumi seems very happy to have the old eito back that he just. throws everything he knows about the actual eito out the window. sure he still wants eito to be happy but this isnt proper understanding, its one sided imposing of his will.

thanks to that whole dynamic though theres the very cool part of him coming up with the plan of cutting himself in half to banzai on veshy and also the not at all cool (and very evil actually what the actual fuck man!!) idea of brainwashing eito to keep him in check.

takumi does not see the real eito in this route and does not seem to meaningfully care about him here. this is like. mundanely evil shit. he does things just heroic enough to get the girl but in doing so makes everything (the truth, the reality, the nuance of the war) a farce for his shounen plotline.

takumi was this close to getting eito on his side if he just showed concern and understanding about his condition, but he just kinda went 'eh, sirei can brainwash this away no big'. the can of evil he just unleashed unto this route with that decision is so fucking absurd that im actually glad eito went final boss on takumi.

because fuck you takumi, you dont deserve the full good ending on this route actually. the friendship hardwork victory tropes? pweh.

understandable.

takumi ends this route either by mutually killing himself and eito, or he does the heroic thing and gets the girl but with eito just quitting the plot. i cant even blame eito for offing himself. ...i kinda feel terrible for him actually. this route is torture on the guy.

they also... do not make it to day 100, and the exodus project is probably still ongoing. they lack critical information that immunizes them to further manipulation from both sides. eito pulls off the ultimate pallete corruption here at least for me. its great.

with what i mentioned in my eito meta appreciation thoughts post im adding "eito can also be the judge jury executioner of the mc", but as a little bit of that as an extra at least in this route.

its very fun but also very fascinating at what happens if takumi just does his own things instead of the player braincell input

also me at eito in the final battle: "why are you here why are you even bothering to fight i can delete you in 2 turns!!! why did you engage in wave 3 like this?! what did you come here for?! go home!!!!!"

also also. shion saying "the power of hemoanima is omnipotent (万能bannou)", and then having takumi interpreting that as "erractic (出鱈目 detarame)" is killing me. detarame implies 'asspull' or 'complete bullshit' in this context.

EDIT:

this cg in the Best Friends ending is also. mwah. the way its framed is so one sided. the handle of the scythe seperates the two. interpretation ahoy but i see this as takumi's footing (social power context) being higher, and he can just force his ideals to eito, but doesnt fully go to his level to understand him. eito seems to be just on the ground waiting for death and dragging takumi with him. neither is willing to compromise their position to seek full mutual understanding

...until takumi lowers himself by giving in to his anger and hate, forcing himself and his whole deal onto eito

lowkey wondering if this whole plot was just some kind of long winded suicide plan by eito too.

[bluebasie]

Hashira Character Analysis Sexuality head canons!!

Since the canon sexualities of the Hashiras were never confirmed and will likely never be confirmed, I have taken it upon myself to come up with a sexuality head canon for each of them based on scenes from the anime, manga, and fan books, etc. This is a pretty large task and analyzing every piece of Demon Slayer media is a huge task so please forgive me if I miss a piece of information that could be interpreted as information suggesting a character’s preference for love! Keep in mind that these are just personal head canon that I wanted to share, and I will include some non-canon ships to show cases of interest. Also, disclaimer, I will not be adding a head canon for Muichiro because I genuinely don't know about him, and I don't think there is enough information about his character loving another and I also don't feel comfortable speculating about his sexuality given his age. But anyways, I will be using a series of quotes, scenes, and situations to come up with each potential sexuality for each Hashira and some may be more detailed than others due to a surplus of scenes or personal bias causing me to pay a little more attention to my favorites. Sorry in advance but I'll try and make it not as noticeable!

Starting with the Water Pillar, Tomioka Giyuu!

Starting off the bat, I really don't think that Tomioka has an interest in women. Let me explain. A huge example of this can be seen in Tomioka’s attitude towards a relationship between Shinazugawa Sanemi and Kocho Shinobu. From season one we can see Kocho’s attempts and friendship with Tomioka and just how unreceived they are despite Kocho's adamant insistence to the point of annoyance. While one could say that he just doesn't like her, it is mentioned during his soba eating contest with Tanjiro in the anime that he definitely does worry about her. Despite this he treats her like an annoyed older brother with an annoying younger sister who likes to pretend they don't care about each other but actually do. Regardless of this dynamic, Tomioka has made it clear he does not always enjoy her forced company, and he has clearly shown a reluctance to try and form a deeper bond with her. On the other hand, while Tomioka is known for being socially avoidant, he actively tries to befriend Shinazugawa where he genuinely breaks his emotionless mask that he's had on for years at the thought of closeness with Shinazugawa. He is shown to genuinely have a deep fascination with Sanemi as seen in his conversation with Tanjiro in the Light novels where they talk about Sanemi and a situation where he asked Giyuu out to eat and he rejected him because he had just eaten. After understanding why Shinazugawa had gotten angry afterwards, he smiles at the thought of Sanemi wanting to eat with him. There is also the fact that in the fanbook when it shows what each hashira thinks of each other for mitsuri it says that he thinks she shows too much skin implying that he thinks it unsafe for her without regard to the sexual implications of exposing her chest and legs due to the skirt. Also, it is said in an extra chapter looking at what each character was doing after the war, it is said that Giyuu and the Uzui family frequent the hot springs which if you didn't know are common in Japan to soak in without clothes. When in the panel at the hot springs it can be seen that Giyuu sits alone away from all of them. This again shows a small glimpse into his potential disinterest in women. Then there is the entire Sabito situation. While it is not said in Demon slayer that Giyuu and Sabito were romantically involved, it is implied throughout giyuu’s entire character story of the impact that Sabito and his death has had and continued to have on his life for years. Giyuu’s interest and want for closeness for both Sanemi and Sabito throughout the Franchise shows his preference for relationships with men rather than women in general. Because of this I would say that my head canon for Giyuu would be that he is definitely a gay man. I don't really think he’s bi just because of his lack of interest expressed in women at all in the entire franchise so I think he is exclusively attracted to men. However is implied in the final chapter that he had a ‘descendent’ implying that he ended up with a woman, he has other family as seen when we was taken away by extended family after his sister’s death and I frankly don't think it’s in character for Giyuu to find and leave a woman pregnant within the three to four years he has left with the demon mark seeing as he has little to no natural charisma and social skills as well as the fact that it would be terrible to leave a woman alone to raise a baby by herself with no close family in the 1920’s but I digress. Overall, I think that based on character interactions my final head canon for Giyuu is that he is gay.

Now onto my girl the Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu.

Throughout the franchise it is seen that Kocho seems to have no romantic attraction to any characters in the entire manga, anime, etc. She also is shown to have no want or need for romantic connection due to her priorities is not only demon slaying but also running a hospital and planning her own death after being blinded by the idea of revenge on the demon who had killed her sister. It is also seen that her character largely revolves around family unlike Giyuu’s character revolving around friendship/love for others. Shinobu’s motives and relationships revolve around her sisters, Kanae and Kanao, as well as Aoi and the butterfly triplets. She also seems to hold a connection with Inosuke as a sort of mother figure. Clearly, we can see that Shinobu places a higher emphasis on family, including found family, which shows her character prioritizing care for platonic relationships. She also seems to not care for romantic relationships for the future because she never planned a future for herself with her plan being to sacrifice herself to kill Douma to avenge Kanae. It is clearly shown that her priorities lay in the family she has collected over the years and creating justice for the family she has lost including her sister and the fact that her reasoning for becoming a demon slayer was the impact of her parents' death. Overall Shinobu does not have any romantic feelings for others being too clouded in her mission to kill the one who had killed her sister, and she never planned to find a partner one day due to the fact that she never planned for another day after the infinity castle. Because of her preference for platonic relationships, lack of interest in romance, and opposition to sexualizing herself as seen when she burns the original female uniform given to her, I think she is aromantic asexual. This head canon is very dear to me despite not actually being aroace myself because of her serious priority to her family that just isn't seen often in shonen media with girls who are never shown to be interested in romantic love and instead have their own story and goal to focus on. If you couldn't tell at this point, I really love Shinobu’s character.

Now I'm moving onto the Sound Pillar, Uzui Tengen.

To start us off with the obvious, Uzui is polygamous. This is cannon and not a head canon so we can add that as a fact so moving on to beyond his polygamous status I guess I am mainly interested in if he is only attracted to women or also men. Right off the bat, purely based on speculation, I would say that he would be open to something like that just due to his openness to ideas that were not common during this time period or in his communities as well as his preference for the extravagant, in his words flashy. This can not only be seen with his polygamous relationship but also with his insistence that his wives put their own lives before others which was practically unheard of in the shinobi communities that they all had grown up in. While this took a long time to adjust to for Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru, Uzui was open to this new life priority seeing as he was the one who had come up with it. He is also seen to be open to multi-gendered bathing in the hot springs with his wives and Giyuu which could further the point that he has no preference for gender or things like that and that he just wants to have a flashy time. One final thing that could possibly point towards his lack of preference could maybe be the fact that he puts a lot of emphasis on his looks. While during this time period men usually didn't wear makeup, jewels, paint their nails, and wear shiny clothes, Uzui disregards social norms to be the best self that he can so this could possibly point towards his lack of care about love between the same gender because those things just would not matter to him. Because of his supposed ‘lack of care for gender’, I definitely think he likes both genders, but I also do think he has a slight preference for women for whatever reason due to the fact that he has three wives obviously. For Uzui’s final head canon, I would say that he’s bisexual with a slight preference for women.

Now going on to the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyojuro.

There also isn't much to see about relationships between Rengoku and other characters but based on his dedication to his family's traditions through Hashira lineage, breathing style, and estate, I do believe that if Rengoku was to stay alive that he would have wanted to find a wife and settle down at some point like his family before him. He is shown to love being around his mother and taking care of his brother so I can definitely see him growing to be a huge family man who just loves his wife a lot. There was a small quip in a fan book where Rengoko refers to Tomioka as handsome, but it honestly just felt like a supportive bro thing where he doesn't feel ashamed to compliment his friends. Rengoku’s relationship with mitsuri could be somewhat evidence that he does not feel much attraction for women but obviously he's not just going to be into every woman he sees, and he clearly views mitsuri as a younger sister. This only proves his family man status even more with his care to those who are younger than him. Due to his constant support of others and traditions of a traditional family I feel confident in saying that Rengoku is the number one Straight ally. He would totally be supportive if any of the Hashira ended up getting together with a person who is the same gender as themselves.

Moving on to the Wind Pillar, Shinazugawa Sanemi.

Shinazugawa is one of the characters who have seemed to show interest, whether romantic or other, but interest nonetheless in both men and women. It is seen in the fan books and the light novels that he was interested in Kocho Kanae when she was alive stating that being with her made him remember his mover and his infatuation with Tomioka over the span of the series with him getting distracted by the sound of his voice, getting visibly worked up over even the smallest of actions that he does, encouraging him in the war, and being seen having a close relationship after the final war arc. Sanemi is shown to be a very expressive individual who feels a lot of feelings towards others and some of those feelings I would say are feelings of attraction, infatuation, and even love. Sanemi is also shown to be very defensive of his feelings as seen when Tanjiro walks in on his and Tomioka’s fight which is seen to be very unguarded and raw with it being a direct expression of everything Sanemi was feeling and everything he wanted to express. However, when Tanjiro views this exchange Sanemi immediately jumps to the conclusion that Tanjiro was ‘spying on them’ as if this fight was meant to be hidden and private not for the eyes or knowledge of anybody besides Tomioka. It seems to me that Shinazugawa clearly knows what he feels about Giyuu and he is scared of it and tries to hide it from others and also himself. He ends up losing this guard after the war though when it is seen that he goes out to eat lunch with Giyuu after sorting out the miscommunication between them over the years. Because of his intense feelings towards people who are both genders, I would say that he is definitely bisexual. I don't know if he has a preference and what preference he would lean towards if he had one but for now I'm just going to say that he is bisexual.

Moving on to the Stone Pillar, Himejima Gyomei.

This one is pretty simple, I think. Gyomei is a Buddhist monk so that means he is celibate. This essentially means that he would not have a romantic partner or have children in an attempt to forward his path to enlightenment. He has never shown romantic interest in anyone throughout the span of the series, so I think it's safe to say that he is Unlabeled? I don't want to say that he is aroace because I don't know if he has romantic feelings but just doesn't act on them or if he doesn't have them at all, but I guess it would make sense if he was on the aroace spectrum. I think either aroace or unlabeled would work here and are headcanons that would make a lot of sense.

Next, we have the Love Pillar, Kanroji Mitsuri.

In connection to her breathing style, Mitsuri is a very expressive and loving person to people of all types. This does also include women as well. In her character introduction in the first season this is explicitly shown where after every character introduction of the other Hashiras Mitsuri would include a small quip about some words of admiration, she has for them including Shinobu. While Kanroji did join the Demon slayers for a husband, I think that she actually does have love for everyone regardless of gender and she just really wants a husband specifically because of social norms and the fact that she wants somebody who is stronger than her and while there are very few men who are stronger than her there are few women who fit that standard as well. Other than that, I don't think that the LOVE Hashira really has a preference for gender, and she just feels a small attraction towards everybody. I think that she could be pansexual or at least under the bisexual umbrella if anybody believes she has a preference towards one gender, but I think she just feels a good amount of love for everybody and everything with a high surplus for Iguro and therefore pansexual!

Finally, we've got the most difficult to understand in my opinion, The Serpent Hashira, Iguro Obanai. 

Iguro has got quite the history with a distaste towards women due to the trauma he had endured during his childhood. His lack of romantic affection had been carried with him for his entire life until meeting Mitsuri when he fell head over heels for her. Iguro’s love for mitsuri has frankly made it pretty difficult to understand or come up with a headcanon due to his disinterest in literally every one besides her. I don't think he would ever love another woman or show affection to another man which makes it difficult to come up with something. I guess I could say that he is unlabeled because he literally does not love anybody and has never loved anybody besides Mitsuri before. I could also say that he is Asexual because as seen in his entrapment, the fascination the snake demon had of him, her watching him at night, and his family overloading him with overwhelming food he did not want. This could all be seen as an allegory for sexual assault and/or grooming as a child and that might have caused him to want to avoid anything sexual and therefore I think it could be very possible that he could at least be under the asexual umbrella. 

That was a lot of writing so thank you if you read this far! Keep in mind that these are head canons and if you disagree on anything please don't start a war in the comments or anything. Please. Anyways I would love to hear your own head canons and what you think of this small character analysis! 

[silverwhittlingknife]

OKAY SO i have been rereading dustorange's wonderful post here about Dick in an UtRH-esque scenario where he dies & then comes back to life

AND I HAVE INCOHERENT BRAINSTORMING THOUGHTS:

so first, i think Robin!Dick would be just as hurt by the discovery that Bruce has a new Robin, and brood about it - but i think the shame of having died would stop him from confronting Bruce about it the way Nightwing!Dick does in canon.

and I do NOT think that he would expect Bruce to kill anyone for him (or even be upset that he doesn't? I just don't think this would be a consideration for Dick. he's gonna be fixated on "I failed." so he'll be upset about being replaced but not about the lack of revenge. and if Bruce did take revenge, i think he'd actually feel angry and betrayed about that because it'd feel like the choice was taken away from him, a la how upset he gets when he thinks Bruce has arranged to have Zucco killed - even if he intellectually knows that Bruce wasn't deliberately undermining himbecause he didn't know Dick was gonna come back to life.)

anyway so what WOULD he do??

what comes to mind is something along the lines of "Dick obsessively keeps an eye on Batman & Robin even while telling himself that he's not"

and then - say - if it's Robin!Tim (i feel like this has to be Tim because in the world where Dick dies there is no way that Bruce is voluntarily picking a new Robin), then maybe the moment when Dick steps in is when Bruce is in danger & he's furious / critical of Tim for not protecting Bruce well enough

and i feel like that's how he'd channel the hurt feelings - it'd all be deflected under shame and obligation, and then translated into the anger of "you replaced me & yet you're failing to do the job that you're supposed to do" (which is actually about projection/self-hatred because Dick would actually be mad at himself for having died & not doing that job anymore)

and Dick wouldn't want to see Bruce at all because of the shame over dying & subconscious fear that Bruce doesn't want him back, plus every little thing that Tim does differently would drive him NUTS because it implies that maybe the way Dick did things wasn't good enough for Bruce

i'm actually kind of fascinated by this now. because i am me and i have (1) obsession i am mostly invested in the dick & tim side of it sdfsdfds

so i'm picturing Tim very stung by whatever critical things Dick said to him & tracking this mysterious vigilante down, and then Dick doesn't want to spend ANY time with him BUT he's also subconsciously desperate for news of Bruce!!! so then something something Dick starts sorta training him a la Tim's various contacts with edgy non-batman-aligned vigilantes, and Tim's very defensive about how he IS a good robin so THERE but of course he's also defensive because he's secretly worried he's not good enough.

normally i would have tim Recognize dick since recognizing dick is tim's most basic skill HOWEVER i think it would be much more fun if tim doesn't recognize him so he can give dick a speech about legacy & the first robin: "i do x and such because that's how the first robin did it so it is Objectively Correct." which Dick will find incredibly infuriating but will be unable to counter since he cannot counter with 'the 1st robin was ME'

…hmmm i do think Dick ought to be angry about SOMETHING about batman's methods/attitude just because that's more dynamic? I feel like in order to make the adaptation work, there ought to be SOME kind of argument with Bruce right before he dies that he can still be mad about, a la the garzonas fight for Jason and Bruce. unsure what though?

okay let's see: I feel like Dick's main arguments with Bruce aren't about vigilante issues per se so much as they're about working in a team - so e.g.

1) Bruce being controlling/demanding, and 2) Bruce being secretive and doing stuff behind Dick's back, and 3) Bruce not allowing Dick enough autonomy, 4) just generally a perceived lack of trust.

SO maybe whatever The Frustrating Thing that bruce was doing when dick died is a thing he's STILL doing with this new robin, and dick is getting frustrated all over again sorta on tim's behalf but mostly on his own behalf because he never got to resolve this with bruce

but anyway that way when Bruce finally spots disguised!Dick, then they can have the fight again before Bruce realizes who he is <3

[velvetwyrme]

hi its bugwars i give my official endorsement for the rpf [robot person fanfiction] fic idea. if you write it i will work very hard pressing buttons and keys in order to send it to everybody. and ill hoot and holler and cheer also and clap but you cant hear that. and maybe steal like 10 bucks to throw at you.

this is not a bribe, legally, but also if you wish to discuss or talk about the concept any further that would be awesome because it sounds really cool.

YOURS TRULY,

A MILLION BUG WARS EVERY DAY

HIII BUGWARS ANON!

i will absolutely take the chance to chatter abt this fic because it's PLAGUING me again. who knows if/when ill write it but i like thinking abt it and the potential dynamics of it.

thank u for ur interest and endorsement (and theoretical 10 stolen dollars HFJFHD) i got distracted reading >300k words of jazzwave fic in 2 days and also getting way too invested in this potential plot dont mind me.

anyway i didn't actually have any plans for this but then i started typing and then i KEPT having ideas so. im throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks

endgame jazzwave/reader because i like polys <3

the MC is a fanfiction writer who focuses on writing about the big robots that are not-so-secretly hanging about on Earth. originally i thought that the MC would write Jazzwave but... I think it's far far funnier if what they actually write is xReader fic. (Maybe also other ship stuff, but primarily reader inserts)

Jazz keeps tabs on human forums talking about Cybertronians, both for personal interest (culture is fascinating!!) but also to keep track of what public opinion is about both factions.

Eventually he stumbles across some people talking about another ✨Secret✨ forum/website... the discussion is quickly shut down (suspicious in itself!) but Jazz still figures it out and accesses it, only to realise...

It's fanfiction. It's a forum dedicated to RPF about Cybertronians. Strange, but not entirely unexpected. He's honestly surprised he HASN'T seen any up until now.

He begins reading (for cultural understanding, of course. He needs to know what humans think of them :])

... and eventually stumbles across a really really good fic, with just one caveat.

It's a Soundwave/Reader.

It's a little weird, reading a romantic fic about Soundwave in particular, especially one where the reader is supposed to imagine a romance with him... but it's relatively popular and well, he's curious.

(Jazz gets really invested.)

The fic details a softer side to Soundwave and the thing is... Jazz has seen that side of him. Soundwave cares deeply for his cassettes and he is fully aware just how far Soundwave will go to protect them and... this fic opens his mind up to the possibility of someone else also having that same protection and care shown towards them. and if that makes him feel some sorta way, nobody has to know

At some point while reading, Jazz realises that the descriptions of some of the Decepticon and Autobot plans/tactics are suspiciously accurate.

Like as in "these descriptions of battles and tactics are surprisingly detailed" almost to the point of "goddamn it War Thunder not again" type of accurate.

So he begins to wonder... who's the one writing this and why do they know so much? Are they a spy? Are they getting insider information? Is Soundwave behind this?

Elsewhere, Soundwave has also taken note of the fanfics cropping up. He's largely paid it no mind, what humans create is of no concern... until now.

He reads the fic, and is taken aback by how genuine and SOFT they portray him. It's... rather endearing really.

I also think it would be. really funny if Jazz is sent to question/interrogate you, and appears in his holoform, intending to keep it casual, but you recognize him immediately because. why wouldn't you.

(section from my scratch doc, lightly implied suggestive themes)

Things happen (presumably. Decepticons.) and the interrogation is interrupted and Jazz must flee w/ you :]

Soundwave watches from the sidelines, having found that the reader's writing resonated with him in an unexpected way, and he is intrigued at the way you seem to look at the world and view him in turn

things happen! you and Jazz get to know each other better, having taken you to a safe house since he can't just take you to the Autobot base

Cue conversations and bonding :D!!Eventually Jazz does come to the conclusion that you aren't involved with Soundwave, which is... of course when he decides to show up.

No idea how things would go down past this but im thinking of the Yearnign they all experience. Soundwave growing protective over the reader and quietly getting to know them as Jazz flirts more unabashedly with both of them as he slowly comes to realise oh no he actually does like both of them

i also think it'd be fun to have a subplot surrounding the reader's mysterious beta reader/friend who provides insights and suggestions for their fics, particularly to do with military strategy as well as acting as a sounding board for relationship dynamics. the reader has never met them and doesn't know anything more than a screen name. and the mystery deepens when jazz ot soundwave is unable to track down this elusive figure, who is a veritable ghost on the internet :]

other things that may or may not fit, but i think are funny to think about:

slowly figuring out/revealing which other autobots/decepticons frequent the fanfic forums (obvious ones being thundercracker and first aid, but there are so many other good options.)

megatron and optimus reading fics about each other and yearning in the background (inverse of what happens in a lot of MegOp fics where Jazzwave is happening in the bg)

jazz somehow ends up in a conversation with soundwave in which jazz asks if soundwave knows abt the reader's fanfic- isn't it detrimental to his cool and mysterious demeanor? and soundwave is just like "... why were you reading soundwave/reader fics?"

anyway im abt to pass out while typing this so im just posting this now, if theres more i forgot ill add it tmr morning or whenever

[edutainer2022]

The convoluted dynamics between the Mechanic and Scott keeps fascinating me, as they're antagonistic/contrasting characters, but also mirrors. This is a bit of a darker spin on the issues that drive them and inform mutual (explosive) reactions. I left the ending open to interpretation (hopefully!). Maybe there's hope for a road to a working relationship. Maybe there's more than one. Maybe it's a dead-end, or a clean slate.

Many thanks to @janetm74, as always, for bearing with the twilight of my mind.

CW: mention of implied past assault and mental torture. Nothing graphic.

MEANINGS

The way that day started, he would never have guessed how it would end. Yet there he was. There they were.

The morning met a round up of a grueling overnight rescue. For the first time since the neurolink to the Hood had been severed, they tried out several of his customized mechas on a rescue for difficult to reach places. The Illustrious Commander was, of course, vocally against the field test. Or granting him any more access to their systems beyond what was necessary for the T-drive. No surprise there. But Brains was excited, and with a helfty support from the orbit, the Commander was outvoted and outgunned. In the end, the rescue nearly cost the Commander's life anyway, when the idiot ventured further beyond where his mechas would go. Beyond what was prudent, humanly possible, or sane. The Mechanic had long got his own suspicions, but that night - he saw red.

Technically, it was the next morning, when he stormed the locker room showers in the hangars. Thunderbird One was the last one back to the island, held back on site by reporting to the local authorities. Or maybe delaying the inevitable. He suspected the other Tracies were giving their Intrepid Leader a wider berth before the debrief. The Mechanic had no such qualms.

He yanked the stall door so hard - the hinges keened. Paying no heed to the scalding water blasting from the showertop, he slammed the younger man face first against the wall, an effective chokehold immobilizing his any attempt to wrestle free or fight back. The Mechanic saw Scott spar with Kayo or with his brothers in the island gym, on occasion. More often he would pummel the equipment, working through whatever demons haunted him. The Mechanic was certain he was at least one of those. Scott was good in a scrap. Very good. But with at least five inches and fifty pounds on him, Scott was currently no match to the Mechanic's FURY. He was so angry his voice went hoarse:

"Listen up! You wanna get yourself killed - that's between you and whatever the heck you believe in. But don't you DARE use me as a TOOL to punish yourself EVER AGAIN! I won't be your flagelation puppet! You pull another stint like that - you can build your own damn T-drive!"

He was panting, the blinding ire had winded him. It took a moment to realize Scott wasn't struggling against his firm grip. In fact, the man was completely still, each muscle and sinue stiff, thrumming with tension like a live wire. Frozen. He was expecting a lashing out. A showdown. He'd have welcomed it, in fact. The tension building for weeks from the very bowels of the dormant volcano got him antsy. He was ready to erupt. And so was the Tracy Commander. But from the vantage point of his height the Mechanic could see blue eyes squeeze shut. The hiss came out stifled, like Scott's airways were closing up:

"Go ahead... Get it over with..."

Only then it occurred to the Mechanic how dubious the situation was. The realization rippled a chill through his veins, despite the heat of the running shower, rapping over his back. He looked up Scott Tracy's GDF file way back in the Hood's thrall. The classified parts and the ones Tracy Sr. made sure were stricken from the record altogether. The Mechanic knew firsthand what it felt like to have no control over one's own body. Over one's own mind. And now he was nearly perpetrating the same brand of violence. Or so Scott's triggered instincts read into his intent. His hands let go of the other man's body almost automatically and took a step back. Horrified. Through the fog of the scalding water he could see the rigid body start shaking, leaning against the wall. That particular clash was far from over, he understood as much. But they didn't exactly do apologies, so without another word he stalked out.

***

He expected nothing less than a throw of hands when Scott Tracy next showed up in his workshop. Technically, it was a portion of Hiram's labs, allocated to him, complete with sleeping quarters and even a bathroom of his own. He WAS cordially offered guest rooms on the upper levels of the villa, but he knew better than to accept. His current status didn't bode well with broad daylight out in the open. Besides, he preferred not to stray far away from the T-drive specs and test simulations. In case inspiration struck at odd hours, which it frequently did.

Surprisingly enough, Scott Tracy was not seeking a fight. Or immediate termination of his arrangement. Or a lawsuit for aggravated assault. Which would be a moot point anyway, since the Mechanic was technically a fugitive. His jailer, Rigby, definitely reported he didn't exactly comply to being released into the Tracies' custody before the Hex exploded.

He wasn't quite sure either if Scott Tracy was seeking oblivion or offering a truce, when he stepped into the workshop at a small enough hour of the night, brandishing a bottle of scotch. The Mechanic wasn't a conossieur of top shelf alcohol, but he knew enough to recognize the Macallan 1926 single malt that could easily pay for most of Zero-XL deep space supplies. It took several minutes of comically shuffling among the battery of cups, amassed through long hours of agonising over failed T-drive tests, but they finally poured two fingers each. They were drinking a century and a half old scotch out of chipped, coffee-stained novelty mugs. In complete silence. The Mechanic didn't feel like pursuing a fight after the incident in the showers. Or a more recent one, in the hangars. He gave Scott the space to speak first. Or not. A flash of blue finally turned to him.

"I'm sorry."

That was new. Apparently, they WERE doing apologies. But the Mechanic needed a bit more context to go on, so he took another sip in carefully crafted quiet.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like a tool. Again. I didn't think... it would hurt you thus."

Hurt was a word he didn't expect. But couldn't but appreciate. Hurt rarely featured in any conversation around his previous gig as Hood's henchman, if it were not the hurt he inflicted. There was definitely no shortage of the latter. He raised the cup in acknowledgement and the tension in the blue eyes eased up a faint bit. He took an extra minute to consider his own words.

"I'm sorry for lashing out. You scared me."

Maybe it was the second helping of scotch talking. He was almost befuddled to pinpoint the truth of it. His inventions had never been heretofore used to save. Only to destroy. And on the first try they failed. He could hardly ever imagine regretting not saving Scott Tracy, of all people, yet there they were.

A mirthless bark of a laugh broke through his impromptu reverie.

"You're new here. You'll get used to it!"

Maybe it was scotch talking too. Maybe Scott Tracy was so accustomed to his own self-destruction mode, he didn't see the points of no return anymore. Didn't see the point anymore. The Mechanic could certainly drink to that. But his newfound freedom, newfound lease on life, and with it - newfound PURPOSE, made him hyperaware of such all too familiar mindset. He wasn't Scott Tracy's sibling, or friend, or mentor. He wouldn't roll over and let the man martyr himself on the altar of his perceived failures. Several days ago he probably wouldn't believe himself ever thinking that. Definitely the scotch talking. Yet there they were.

***

They could certainly attribute the rest of the night to the rest of the scotch. It didn't come to words between them beyond that, but it did come to a showdown. His split and swollen lip and a bruise blooming on the edge of Scott's jaw would tell a story, come dawn. Definitely scotch talking.

The eruption was inevitable, as they probably both knew - tension cackling in the space between resentment and recognition. Speaking of live wires. He maybe should have been aware Scott was still chasing retribution for himself. He might have been aware he was still on a mission to reclaim control by all means. For a brief, cathartic while it didn't matter. So there they were. Back to square one.

[strawglicks]

flint fascinates me bc he comes off as rlly polite and kind

but also. not really. at all

they apologize often and it seems like they try to be nice to others, but then u look deeper and take into account different details

one of the biggest things abt flint that gets overlooked is that he likes drama .

i dont think liking drama itself is bad, why else do we have reality tv shows yk. but i think they actively indulge in it and one of the biggest things that points to this for me is how they treat the satellite investors

he seems to talk bad about them behind their backs, then can't handle the comeuppance of cosmo yelling at him.

this is further implied with cosmo saying they're "goin' around spreadin' lies", meaning flint does actively talk shit on what might be a regular basis. and flint saying "oh, no, I shouldn't have said that" implies FURTHER that they KNOW they're gonna get yelled at for it but continue to do it anyway with the hope cosmo wont find out. like hes not sorry for doing it, only sorry for getting caught.

cosmo gets HEAVILY neglected both in the community as a whole and whenever flint is brought up even though they have a really interesting and honestly hilarious dynamic (but thats for another post..)

whenever cosmo DOES get brought up in the context of he and flints relationship, people defend flint and blame cosmo for being "mean" to him. but tbh, i think cosmo has a fair point in this particular text. Flint can talk all he wants, but at the end of the day can't handle the consequences of it and lacks the confidence to put his foot down. He's a follower, not a leader (unlike cosmo, who flint looks up to canonically. WHICH NO ONE TALKS ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!)

flint also seems to have an interesting habit of apologizing even though he actively and intentionally attacks the toons right after

which i think is interesting. i think it's just a habit of his to say sorry when he knows he's doing/has done something wrong (especially bc he doesnt like facing the consequences), even if hes not actually sorry. Considering this is the same person who claims they like setting toons on fire, i dont think any of these apologies are sincere:

speaking of not being able to handle the consequences, when flint does get defeated by toons, there's a line that sticks out.

Specifically the "i'll be back" feels vengeful. Like he takes the defeat personally, and doesn't want to give up because it makes him feel weak and he wants to come out on top.

something else i find interesting and almost jarring in flint's dialogue is some of their Power Trip dialogue:

this dude is incredibly power hungry. he craves confidence and the ability to be a leader, given how he looks up to cosmo and is drawn to graham, who also appears confident.

speaking of graham, i think it's important to note that earlier, when flint was talking shit abt the satellite investors, he was saying that specifically to graham, who encourages flint not to "let people walk all over him".

graham encourages flint to feel more confident, which is not inherently a bad thing. confidence is great! and its something flint deserves. but i think there's an issue with how they choose to express this "confidence" on the rare occasions they do.

shown throughout this post, flint's way of trying to be confident is being power hungry, talking shit, and fighting toons . i think it's pretty clear that flint has been walked all over in the past and present, and it's caused them to become shy and a bit of a doormat. which he clearly doesn't like (more evidence of this is the fact that he explicitly dislikes belittling.)

and on the rare occasions when they're "allowed" to be confident, they proceed to belittle OTHERS, like toons. in a lot of their dialogue, they come off as condescending towards the toons, even if it's pretty awkward.

i think Flint deserves to feel confident, but the way they go about it is unhealthy. They've clearly been treated like a doormat and is fed up with it, and it seems like they lash out as a result. I think he has a good and genuine heart, but he almost comes off as bitter due to being walked all over constantly. its rlly interesting to dive into flint's flaws and the way they act due to their desperation for confidence, something they really lack.

[top-vi]

the contrast of rhaenyra's and alicent's experiences with motherhood is so fascinating

I’ve always argued the storyline of being wary of motherhood and childbirth would’ve worked better with Alicent than Rhaenyra.

Alicent doesn’t get to choose who the father of her children is, she doesn’t have access to contraceptives nor can she refuse Viserys when he calls for her.

The themes of forced motherhood and the consequences of this would work so much better with women like Alicent: struggling to love children forced on you, not understanding why you’re not overcome with maternal affection, suffering from undiagnosed postpartum depression etc.

With Rhaenyra it just doesn’t work because unlike Alicent she can choose her children’s father and she can decide when she wants to be pregnant. In the books she has three back to back pregnancies and then stops for 4 years, whilst in the show she has Joffrey eight years after Luke which means she intentionally had a third child. Either way it all comes down to Rhaenyra having bodily autonomy; if she didn’t want to be pregnant she wouldn’t be pregnant.

Also having Rhaenyra be the one who expresses her wish to not have children honestly feels more sexist because the writers are implying not wanting to be a mother isn’t normal, so once Rhaenyra gives birth to Jace she realises the error of her ways and happily has five more. This implication doesn’t sit well with me.

so i wasn’t fair to you anon, and i’ve let this sit in my inbox since may. the reason for this is because i wanted to see how alicent and rhaenyra’s relationships to their children were developed, explained, and expanded on in season two.

regarding alicent and her children:

i think we officially got your wish anon (mine too). while some people may be unhappy with her arc in season 2, alicent has always had a deep-seated love-hate relationship with her children. i’d argue that in season one we also got glimpses into the just…visceral revulsion that she cannot shake when she looks at her children, aegon in particular. but in season two i think she’s truly confronted, in a noticeable tangible way, with the facts of her sons.

obviously, i wish we’d been able to see more of this kind of dynamic back in season one, especially with a younger alicent. however, there are season constraints and we can only see so much in ten episodes (side note: 8-10 episode seasons with a two year wait in between is a rant for another time, but know i’m not being like “yay season constraints!”).

the problem with alicent’s arc and struggle is that so fucking much of it is internal. it is so incredibly hard to show on screen and i find the way its been done so far admirable. up until luke’s death, alicent is lying to herself over and over every day about her relationship to her children, aemond and aegon particularly. once the war starts i believe the tower of lies she’s told herself (this is morally correct, i’m just doing my duty, i was treated well, i’m protecting my children like any mother should) start to crumble. i hate so much that we never got her reaction to aemond killing luke for this reason.

also, to a certain extent she may not ever truly come to grips with her trauma. there are no words for what she went through—marital rape was not a concept then. it still manifests, obviously, but i think we can tell with her repeated insistence that viserys was a decent husband and man [loud incorrect buzzer] that she still thinks she’s the one who’s done something wrong. i’ll be interested to see if the writers ever actually have alicent come to grips with the fact that viserys was, in fact, not a good person or king. personally, i don’t believe they will, but we can always hope.

anyways, all this is to say that: i do believe the themes of forced motherhood and its lifelong consequences are well done and explored with alicent (thus far). people will disagree, perhaps even you, but her eventual rejection of aegon and aemond; her desperate, almost chaotic protection of helaena; her ideas about daeron; all of it really speaks to the struggle she’s had and is going through as their mother.

regarding rhaenyra and her children:

this is more difficult that alicent lol

before i get into my gripes with her story, i do want to push back just a little bit on the idea that rhaenyra truly has bodily autonomy. regardless of when or with whom she gets pregnant, she’s still expected to get pregnant and have children. while its unfortunately not explored, she does need to produce heirs.

now. i agree with you for the most part. rhaenyra’s relationships to her children really make no sense. the only one that’s fleshed out is jace, and while that is interesting in the “she’s doing to him exactly what viserys did to her,” it is not complex internally (in the same way alicent’s is). i also personally see joffery as an oops baby, but who really knows. i don’t even know how to explain her children with daemon. they were plot necessary i guess lmfao

the problem with rhaenyra and her children is that almost all of the critical moments in their relationships happen off screen during the time jump. its a structural tv show problem and it brings up these kinds of issues when looking deeper into the relationships she would actually have. i think the writers did a good job this season of making the internal conflict and intrapersonal strife within team black better, but this is just one of those things thats never going to be explored. in this sense we’ll never really know her true feelings or the development that could’ve happened—which is a massive shame.

my personal headcanon (so take with a grain of salt and don’t come for me), is that rhaenyra isn’t against the idea of children as a teenager, she’s against the childbirth. i believe this both because of the horrors of watching her mother’s repeated miscarriages and eventual death while in childbirth, and her consistent refrain of the desire to be a man. i think she wants, to her core, freedom and, as a woman, having a child requires much more sacrifice than having a child as a man.

i don’t personally see the change from not wanting children to totally wanting children as misogynistic, but i don’t blame you for seeing it that way because of the utter lack of canon explanation for it. again, i wasn’t really fair to you keeping this until season two was finished, but i think both alicent and rhaenyra’s relationships to motherhood were developed well.

[ponds-of-ink]

The Certified Pond Analysis of Scraptrap Voicelines

Because I haven’t talked about this rabbit’s voice lines as much as I should.

Buckle up. This is gonna get wordy.

-

So, going in the order of this video, we have:

“I always come back!”

The most quoted Afton line. And understandably so. This is the man at his most triumphant, even with his.. questionable suit-repair choices. The emphasis on “always” as well as the moderately louder volume really sells that confident air Springtrap continues to have in FNAF AR. Though, as we’ll soon see, this is not the only emotion he feels as Scraptrap.

(Also, before we continue: This gives me the first point on the “I can hear the smile in his voice” scoreboard. It’s a surprise tool that should help us later.)

”Bittersweet, but fitting”

…And by “later”, I apparently mean now.

There may be a smirk at the end, but it’s not a strong one. The overall line read is much more reserved here. Maybe even somber, if I’m inferring correctly. The choice of words is interesting here too. Whoever’s the owner of the Pizza Sim building, he may not be as fond of jumpscaring them as one would think…

”What a deceptive calling! I knew it was a lie the moment I heard it— Obviously, but it is intriguing nonetheless…”

Ah, yes. The big monologue post-Salvage. Couple of things I noticed here that aren’t debatable lore implications:

(1) Man’s rushing through that second half for some reason. Don’t know if that was an editing error, an intentional line read, or Scraptrap trying to.. reason with himself? Sound smarter than he thinks he is? I dunno, something about the pacing is off here.

(2) Oh, hey, first line with a “snake hiss”! This isn’t a consistent trait with his lines, but it’s a key feature that I use to differentiate Springtrap and Scraptrap during voice impressions.

(3) This man puts so much emphasis on words sometimes. So much so that I can not only hear the smile near the end, but I can also feel the eye roll during “deceptive”. And PJ Heywood never voice acted before FNAF apparently? H u h.

Anyway, moving on before I start implying that Scrap-Trap might’ve been lured in by a newspaper or something…

“Fascinating! What they have become…”

Another point to the “I can hear the smile” board. We’re on three points now; three and a half if you count “Bittersweet”.

This one I’ve already brought up before, but the abridged analysis is: This guy (unlike Glitch-Trap in that one Security Breach trailer) actually compliments his.. uh.. teammates? Workmates? ..Just realized that the relationship dynamic between the Salvage Gang doesn’t have an official term. Bummer.

That aside, it’s genuinely interesting that he doesn’t diss them at all. You think he would given his reputation, but no. He just has this twisted sense of “oh wow they’re so cool”.

…Come to think of it, has he directly dissed somebody in the games specifically? I’m not even sure if the “Deceptive Calling” monologue or the AR Springtrap lines count. AR Springtrap tends to boast about himself more than put the player down and Scraptrap was having an ‘I’m smarter than that lol” moment.

If I’m right, then I think I may have found a proper difference between a pretend Mimic Afton and the real one. Huh.

“How can I resist a promise such as this?”

Getting back to the main topic, we’ve got a return for the snake hiss and the emphasis on certain words. Also, add another point to “I can hear the smile”— Except it’s more of a smug grin than a bizarre, wide-eyed look of wonder.

Not sure what that promise is post-jumpscare, but I do know that this has a chance to play during the office sections. So the promise is either Henry’s lure or seeing his son Mike one last time. I dunno, dude, it’s all vague to me.

”That was easier than I thought it would be…”

AKA The line that makes me wonder “Dude, you good?”

No seriously. The quick halt in-between the second and third word. The sudden choke that happens at the end. Like his voice just properly broke for the first time in ages. The overall somberness of it all. There is literally no smile here and I’ve checked. There may even be tears starting to well up, but I obviously can’t be sure.

It’s even implied that he thought he’d had a tougher time fighting the owner! He actually assumed he wouldn’t win this easily!

Something about this feels.. unnerving. He’s not supposed to sound this upset. At least, not usually. So what, pray tell, is going on with this voice line?? Why was this the take Scott used??

“You may not recognize me at first, but I assure you: It’s still me”

Well, that’s one more point for the “I can hear the smile” board. Also, I believe this is confirmation of that ‘Springtrap switched suits after FNAF 3’ theory? That’s what it sounds like, at least?

But, hey, at least Scrap-Trap is canonically aware of the sudden shift in appearance. Let’s hope his potential FNAF World 2 version isn’t as nervous about it as I assume FNAF 6 him would be… If he had access to the internet, of course.

Also, for the one person who may or may not care about this: He’s using contractions here. I think it’s been established that he only uses these at certain times, but I can’t remember where exactly I read that analysis. Anyway, he’s unafraid about “slipping up” at this point.

One more thing…

Compared to AR Springtrap, Scraptrap is much more.. casual in tone, if that’s the best way to put it. Much more low energy, though his antics are anything but.

Like, yes, he’s still coming for you if you keep letting ads play on your computer. But maybe he’ll let you live for a few seconds longer just so you could turn the ad off? He’s not in a rush, as far as I can tell.

Maybe that’s another reason why my brain jumps to Scraptrap more than Springtrap. If he wasn’t tied to this “attacking the guard” business, he could probably chill for a second and give advice on paperwork. Wouldn’t last for long, of course, but at least one could potentially die knowing that you drank coffee with a much more business-savvy Spring Bonnie… Grungy though he looks. Springtrap, on the other hand, wouldn’t give you the time of day.

TL;DR:

PJ Heywood put more nuance into this guy than even I was expecting. Big round of applause, genuinely.

[ticcitavvi]

Httyd tag game (long post)

Thank you @knight-says-oioioi for tagging me! I’m honored to be included ♥️♥️

What is your favorite…

Character design: I genuinely love eret’s design to death. I love how strongly rectangles and triangles influence his overall shape and style, and what they might convey/imply about his character.

Not to mention how visually interesting they make his silhouette. And while I specifically love his design in 2, I think he has one of the BEST dragon armor sets in 3. Plus the beetle aesthetic is gorgeous and suits him so well.

But back to the point, I really really like how much care has been put into making him feel different from the riders- in everything up to and including body language, colors, and proportions.

His design fits the role it serves in the story perfectly, and while his narrative arc does include a little bit of wishy washing and side changing (ofc) I think that using such strong, grounded shape language on every part of his design really helps the viewer quickly understand and feel like he is not normally like this— that he’s not a weasely traitor, but instead a very grounded person who may have a strong sense of self but who is also undergoing a lot of change very quickly.

By relying on the shape language so strongly like that, And really emphasizing these key visual points, I think it allowed for less necessary screen time to establish these same character traits. (Regardless of how much I really would have loved to see those scenes..)

All in all, I think it is a character design that does exactly what it is supposed to, and does it exceedingly well.

Character: surprisingly difficult question.... gonna go with snotlout. though it was very hard to pick just one.

Dragon from the main 5: I really really love Stormfly. No deep analysis here, sorry, I just saw her when I was 12 and haven’t been able to fall out of love with her since lol her design is gorgeous and her personality is top tier

Though if I had to pick one to RIDE I think I’d go with hookfang… maybe… he’s kind of a dick lmaoo but I really like the idea of riding a living fireball

But yes. My answer for this is stormfly.

Dragon species overall: I think.. I really really quite enjoy The Red Death. Or red deaths? I can’t remember ever seeing or hearing about another one. But I thought this species was such a fantastically unique take on dragons, and was a masterful display of fantastical design grounded by evolutionary logic.

Of course I’m not saying it’s the most logical dragon ever, but there are leaps of logic made in universe that align with and underscore the universes logic.

anyway.

Ship: another really tricky one lol of.

it tends to fluctuate, but as of right now I've been really really intrigued by the idea of Snotlout/Dagur

Character dynamic: Astrid and snotlout... I think they have a fascinating relationship, and it's really entertaining to watch it slowly grow into a more sibling-like dynamic as the franchise continues.

Villain: I mean I think we all know viggo was the best (or at least TOP 2) villain in the entirety of the franchise. really really enjoyed him, wish we had gotten to see more of him :(

Episode: really enjoy ' something rotten on berserker island' season 5 episode 3 a lot :)

Joke: 100% snotlout holding up a naked twig and referring to it as his childhood.

tag your mutuals or any blogs you like (anyone is free to join in though)

apologies if im you've already been tagged for this <3 @sleepy-sloth-doodles @bunniesbearsandadventures @shipping-circus

[illicien]

What drew you to winterbaron as a ship? What kind of content do you read? Is it different from the kind of content you write? Would you like to rec a few winterbaron works? My friend is into the ship and I'm trying to see if it's something I might like but all the fics they've recked me are kind of the same in tone so I'm looking for others opinions for some variety.

Hmm! I've sort of answered some of this in the past so sorry to my moots getting this rehash.

A friend of mine dragged me into WinterBaron (kicking and screaming!!!) rather simply, actually, though what kept me here was the more grand implications of her simple origins. I'm kind of a sucker for a true power bottom, and fanart my friend kept sending me implied the fandom saw Zemo as such, and I was at least a little bit intrigued there. Enough to take a deeper look, at least.

The better discovery wasn't that the fandom had decided he was a power bottom, but that there was a strong push and pull of power in their dynamic. Bucky has all the physical power between them, it's a big thing, he's strong as hell. On the other hand, Zemo is just a guy, and yet despite that Bucky should logically have all the power between them, Zemo's intelligence and knowledge tend to leave him with an edge. That continues to be the fascinating concept about Zemo to me, but that's a different matter.

So for me, it's the manipulation, the push and pull of power, it's Bucky trying to break free of being the Winter Soldier and Zemo trying to decide if Bucky's just like every other super soldier. But it's also about understanding that Zemo knows Bucky in ways most people alive don't. He knows and understands Bucky's history as the Winter Soldier both through his research, and as a man who did horrific things on behalf of his country. And that thought can sometimes lead to softer moments of understanding, I think, that can be enjoyable in fic.

As for content I read vs write: I generally gravitate towards dark fic with these two, though there's plenty of really good stuff that isn't. There are some excellent explorations of kink in the fandom for them which is refreshing. I don't really write them as dark as I read them, since I enjoy writing the power dynamics more than the overt manipulation, but if you're looking for more tonal variety I'm sure I can make some recommendations! (Under the cut!)

** Please make sure you read all of the tags thoroughly. What I enjoy in fiction may not be to your taste, and I respect that, but the best I can do is to link to the site with the tags. 💜

Recs (under 20k words)

Just A Little More by @six-demon-bag epitomizes a lot of what I've said above, and if I didn't start out with it on the list here I'd be doing myself a disservice for how often I reread this.

Bucky goes into a painful rut and Zemo seizes the opportunity to sink newer, more subtle hooks into him.

Breathless by @zsparz is one I like to return to whenever I'm looking to feel sad but don't have a lot of time to read. I can't explain why this one hits me so hard but holy smokes does it make me weepy. Sparz is great at making me cry, though, so like - anyway.

The water kept rising. Bucky could hold his breath a long time underwater, and he remembered vividly how he’d acquired that knowledge. Sam might find him in time.

But Zemo would be long dead by then.

Past Indiscretions by @sagegarnish makes me laugh, genuinely. The whole idea of it brings me a lot of joy, and the execution is delightful.

Bucky and Zemo are trapped in 1941.

Unfortunately Bucky's past self is the only one who might know where the missing Pym Particles are that they need to get home.

When young!Bucky pulls Zemo into an alley, Bucky is forced to watch as a drunken forgotten night from his past becomes a lot clearer.

Recs (20k+ words)

That Which You Fear by @spintwinwb is a trilogy that starts off feeling like an AU and turns into something really fascinating imo. Lots of extra goodies here for comics fans, too.

Instead of freeing the people of Westview, Wanda pushed out across multiverses to get her brother back, and the entire world was caught in the crossfire. Cast in a new, peaceful life in upstate New York in a world with mutants, no Avengers, and no HYDRA, Bucky Barnes struggles to reconcile memories and dreams that no longer make sense with what he thinks he knows about himself.

One Two Many by @six-demon-bag is sweet and fun and complicated, and I really did try not to double-up on authors here but agh. What am I supposed to do??

Bucky and Zemo meet on an anonymous dating app and find a deep connection in each other. In the meantime, they grow closer in person without realizing they’re falling in love online too.

Too Good To Be True by AnadoraBlack is really one of those fics where the tropes are used so well, imo. A very enjoyable read.

Bucky wakes up with no recollection of where he is, how he found himself there, and what the heck is going on. There's also a ring on his finger, and time lost. What the living FUCK?!

The Original Sin by @zsparz because I might as well completely fail at the "only one per author" in spectacular fashion. This sits here because it sits on a very peculiar line between canon and AU and just... like I said. Sparz makes me cry. This isn't a departure from that fact.

Bucky and Zemo keep meeting over the course of several lifetimes. Zemo remembers everything. Bucky doesn’t, but there’s an eerie impression of familiarity he can’t shake — an old pain he can’t explain, with roots too deep for him to reach.

AU Recs

Removing Bucky and Zemo from the context of their complicated history in the MCU can highlight different aspects of their characters that are really interesting to explore, as someone who finds their unique characters quite interesting as well, though I also know it isn't for everyone. Neither of these recs are short so if you don't mind an AU, set some time aside for these ones.

It Started Out With a Curse by Thorny is a fun AU I never really expected to find in this fandom. I personally have a history of writing in fantasy settings so this one has a special place in my heart.

What happens when the King and Queen of a human kingdom slight a powerful fae Lord known only as "The Baron"?

Enter a world of FairyTale/Fantasy Shenanigans as Prince James navigates his deadly curse and his confusing feelings for one (seemingly) cold and untouchable fae Lord. Meanwhile, something sinister is afoot trying to gouge a rift between the feywilds and the human kingdoms...

A Gentleman and a Scholar by EternalBeta is a no powers exploration of their dynamic that's... Beautiful. It also tackles a lot of things about kink that it feels like most fic and stories generally seem to ignore. There's also an amazing sequel series.

(this series doesn't have an easy summary available so I uh... I'll give it a go here: college student Bucky has a thing for his professor, and a whole series of bad decisions behind him. The trouble is, Bucky is impatient, and Professor Zemo doesn't fuck students. So Bucky better hurry up and graduate.)

Many of the writers above have at least a few WinterBaron fics, and I do highly recommend checking out their collections. Sparz and Six-Demon in particular have some really widely varied concepts and stories they tackle, and if you're curious at all I'd also recommend checking out Sholio who has some excellent Sam/Bucky/Zemo fics! I didn't toss recs here because they weren't the heart of the ask, but I gobbled those up easily for some very sweet treaties.

[tamsiblings]

so I've always wondered this in the back of my mind but your reblog recently brought it back to the forefront

this line especially, but also the vibe you get throughout the entire show that Simon is habitually caring for and protecting river since that what he's always done. And I've been wondering: protecting her from what? The show never shows us what Simon Protecting River looked like before he broke her out of the fucked up lab. I have a pretty good idea that it may have been a form of emotional neglect from their parents. They don't notice River's distress in her letters and basically disown Simon when he goes off to save her so maybe they were the type to never listen to their children or believe them when they expressed their needs. Or care more about how their children's behavior made their family appear socially and less about how their children were actually doing. I also wonder if River didn't have a bit of the Gifted Child syndrome going on and their parents treated her more as a prodigy than a daughter. And Simon had to stand up for her and try to get their parents to see her as a girl first and a genius second.

It would have been really cool to see this actually in the show as a flashback or something, but I bet you've thought about it loads and want to hear your take.

warning: this got reallly tangenty and long as i am wont to do oops <3 putting most of it under a cut

warnings for discussion of emotional neglect and a variety of other factors i think could reasonably be labelled as emotional and psychological abuse. emotional neglect on its own is to my understanding a form of emotional abuse, but i think there are other layers here as well.

anyway heyyyy bestie talking about the tams (including the parents tbh, the little we get of this family structure is fascinating to me) (we do actually get more on simon and river's background than anyone else! bc it's so connected to the current story anyway) is my favorite thing as you may have guessed so thank you for sending this.

and YES i have thought about this a lot <3

simon said he "always has" taken care of river and while i think on a literal level this is likely a Slight exaggeration (even if their parents weren't around physically for that whole aspect of taking care of, i think their material needs were always met and they likely had the means for a nanny or some other kind of support) but on an emotional level, i think this is very true.

i think you are 100 percent spot on with the emotional neglect and other unhealthy dynamics. here's some of what we know on that front:

the tam parents could be affectionate and even indulgent when it was easy and suited their own ends. ie. getting the source box for simon and assuring him he's worth it, calling them "you two geniuses" etc. this could be a very sweet moment and in some ways it is, because i truly believe the tams both believe in the worth and specialness of their children...

but their affection is clearly quite conditional. deeply. and, i think, more than anyone involved quite realizes. it's followed up by "that's the deal - dedicated sourcebox - brilliant doctor'. no matter how lightlyheartedly and affectionately it's said, it's clear it's seriously meant - and baby!simon clearly takes it to heart. (note: i've always interpreted this as simon already expressing interested in medicine and his father basically going "fine, but whatever you're doing, you have to be the best at it". i'm sure attorney or corporate ceo also would have sufficed for their image-focused needs, as long as he was successfuly and prestigious enough.)

i should also note that the the dynamic between regan and her children is far more implied because the focus in safe is mostly on gabriel.

a quote from an interview with sean maher: “It was great to learn where Simon came from. We see that his parents are incredibly ostentatious. There were so many expectations and Simon and River felt so much pressure, trying to be what their parents wanted them to be. And we got an idea of what happened to River. The parents sent her away to a school they thought would further her learning. Maybe they were naive in a sense, to think of only bettering her mind and not listening to her as a girl–as their daughter.” (emphasis mine)

notable here (and i love sean maher for noting this because, understandably because river isn't present in the flashbacks in the episode proper, it's not as clear what river's dynamic with their parents is, but certainly inferences can be made) is that both simon and river feel expectations and pressure from their parents, not just simon.

which leads to me wondering about river going to the academy. i think multiple things can be true here at once. i think, as simon says in the pilot, she did genuinely want to go. she was curious and brilliant and bright and not challenged enough in the current education system she found herself in or by her peers. she wanted something rigorous. i think a lot of that probably DID come from her. but i also do wonder if there was a level of their parents always expecting her to challenge herself in this way because, as you mention and i think implied in the quote above, they valued her brilliance and prodigy above her personhood. i also think it's possible (though i'm less sure on this) that river wanting to go to a school where she lives away from her parents and can both live up to their expectations but where she can distance herself from them could indicate something about how she feels. but might be reading too much into things.

there are also elements of controlling behavior that goes hand in hand with both the conditional love and the valuing their children for their intelligence/ability over simply valuing them as their childhood. in the shooting script, the offer simon gets goes through gabriel, and it's not presented as one opportunity or path simon can take. it's The Plan, and there's no room for deviation even when the most dire of circumstances calls for it. (and like, this would never happen because simon does genuinely value medicine and being a doctor, but in an interesting excercise: how would the conversation look if simon decided he didn't want to be a doctor o some other prestigious high paying XYZ? or even that he wanted to pursue a different opportunity he found on his own and is maybe not quite as prestigious in medicine? i don't get the sense it would have gone over that well.) we don't really get a sense of this with river because again, she's less present in the episode - but i think reasonable assumptions can be made.

^ it's a funny story that simon tells kaylee in object in space, about paying the feds off so they wouldn't tell his father about his drunken (and relatively harmless) escapade with his peers after making surgeon, and tbf, a lot of people probably wouldn't want their parents to know that. but in context with the rest of this, it feels very telling that simon did not want his father (or presumably his mother) knowing he acted at all in a way that could be considered undignified or that he got in any degree of trouble (it doesn't even sound like he was arrested, the police just showed up and he didn't want his parents to find out.)

in many ways, it seems clear both simon and river start off as golden children in their parents eyes - they care about them and value their gifts, but more like you would care about a trophy than a child. they care about what river and simon reflect on them. and notably, when river is no longer just the brilliant prodigy-child but vulnerable, in need of protection, and a symbol of inconvenient truth they don't want to face (a number of them, really - the misplaced trust in their government/society/system, the fragility of status and the false sense of security, their own culpability and failures to protect their children) - instead of helping her when she needs them the most, they ignore and abandon her. and when simon can't do the same, he - as the "truthteller" in many family dynamics of this structure often do - becomes some degree of a scapegoat. he faces the truth they are unable or unwilling to see. they turn a blind eye but simon can't, it's not who he is and he loves river too much. and suddenly, when he's not doing and saying and being exactly what they say he should because he's focused on helping river, he's treated like he's causing problems for no reason - like he's the problem. like he's making a big deal over nothing when he tries to show them the letters, when his father says "are you trying to destroy this family?" as though their daughter being kept and tortured against her will and their own refusal to acknowledge it isn't what's actually doing the family-destroying. and while i think simon getting scapegoated/othered/treated as a problem is a rather new development, and don't imagine they were getting constantly berated - in the scene at the end of safe, YMMV, but gabriel seems a little too comfortable quite ufairly berating simon for things that are quite obviously not his fault or for at all disappointing him. i don't think it was always happening - but i don't think this comes out of nowhere.

on the causing problems for no reason (or a reason they dismiss) component; this feels particularly insidious because they should know their son well enough to know simon doesn't do that. he doesn't do things for no reason, he has a highly overly developed sense of responsibility (which comes back into his dynamic with river ofc.) so like... either they do know that and are purposefully ignoring and even twisting it, or they don't know their son nearly as well as they should.

the scapegoating component lends itself to the extremely uncomfortable gaslighting component in safe. in fairness: i think this aspect of the Tams Very Poor Parenting Choices is likely much more situational and less indicative of past behaviors. regardless, it's pretty rough to watch simon point out things that are quite obviously strange (they don't KNOW anyone called d'arbanville) and have his parents treat him like he's paranoid and insane.

this also comes with a certain level of guilt tripping and beratement. i will say it forever: if i had a child and they were arrested, the FIRST thing i do is ask them if they're okay, figure the rest out later. "

and again: some aspects of all this are situational as we get into the river-at-the-academy component, but i think there's a lot that can be read into the tam family dynamic as a whole based on all this.

so on some level - a lot of THAT is why simon says he's always taken care of/protected river - i don't think he necessarily could have entirely saw or named or what their parents were doing for what it was (which i would argue, as you said, was some degree of emotional neglect and emotional abuse, though some of this is implied or inferred - i would argue based on evidence, but just something to keep in mind). but i do think he developed a sense of responsibility over her and a caretaking role as result.

because it's very notable to me that - for instance - in the river tam sessions, river specifically asks for simon. she doesn't say "i want to see my parents" or even "i want to see my family" but "i want to see my brother." and yes, you could argue that this is because that's who the audience who most care about/be familiar with - but with the rest of the context, it feels extremely significant. in the serenity film, she says something similar to what simon says in that shooting script flashback - "you take care of me, simon. you've always taken care of me. my turn" after simon gets shot and right before she goes in to get his bag and fight the reavers. and like, you could argue that she means ever since the academy - but "always" feels much more weighted than that to me.

it's also interesting to me that river doesn't seem to have as much difficulty reconciling with the fact that their parents abandoned them (and a whole host of other stuff, as established, but that's what the show most focuses on.) now, in fairness, river has a LOT going on - psychic and emotional overwhelm, lots of trauma and intrusive memories - both hers and others, etc - so it makes sense that maybe that just wouldn't be on her register regardless. but i also think... well 1) being so in tuned into what others think and feel, even if she might not have been quite able to name it, i do think she's understood longer than simon (maybe since before the academy; i am still curious if that's paret of why she left) how their parents really saw them. so she's had more time to accept and move on from it. 2) there's this other level where river DID have someone protecting her - simon - even if it took a long time to realize what he was protecting her from. while i think it probably looked less intense than it does in the show proper where she is so deeply traumatized, there is no doubt in my mind that if she was ever upset or anything ever went wrong, it was simon she turned to for comfort or help, not her parents. which tbc: <333 i love them. and this is not her fault at all. but simon Did Not Have That. i think he protected her without quite knowing that's what he was doing for a long time... and didn't realize he needed protection too and wasn't getting it.

which makes it difficult to reconcile and move on from, which is why in the moment in safe when river (seemingly talking about gabriel but likely talking about mal) insists "daddy" will come for them - simon totally shuts down. because he knows that's not going to happen, and it hurts a little too much to deal with, but he's still fairly RECENTLY coming to terms with How Their Parents Are - and the fact that he did not have emotional support. so now he doesn't know how to let himself even ADMIT that he also needs care.

final note (god sorry this is sooo long) i will also say that, while i (as a #tam siblings lover) am often very sad/angry/frustrated about simon and river's dynamic with their parents, and that i certainly will never excuse emotional abuse or this kind of parental behavior, that i try and hope to approach the tam parents in any analysis or ficwriting i might do from a very human angle. the range of human complexity is fascinating to me, and i don't think it does the themes of the show justice to act like the tam parents are outright monsters, totally good or totally bad (note: this is so not in the slightest me saying that i think you are doing this. more just thinking out loud about fandom discussions i have seen surrounding this topic.)

this gets at larger discourse both in fandom and in general i think there is a tendency in our society to want either completely villainize or idolize people (and this maybe becomes especially true in complicated relationships like this). when we talk about abuse to any degree and of any kind, people often want to dehumanize and villainize the abuser in such a way that separates themselves from that possibility - "abusers are evil and inhuman and i'm nothing like that so there's no way i could ever cause that kind of harm etc." but in actuality, there is no inherent internal quality that makes someone an abuser - it is a pattern of harmful behavior that people can choose to do and choose not to do. and i don't want to suggest that people who do this are abusive themselves, that's not what i mean - only that i think the mindset comes from a culture that insists on some very black and white thinking. i think it's a very natural human impulse to want to separate ourselves that way, but also maybe gets us away from seeing the bigger picture. and to be clear: i don't mean to suggest that anyone owes an abuser anything, or that simon and river, for example, should have to forgive their parents. that's not true here or in real life. i only mean to say that people are more complicated than being fully good or fully bad, and firefly reflecting this is one of my favorite things about it.

and again, this is complicated with the tam parents because i'm making a lot of (what i feel are supported, but even so) inferences and assumptions here. so whether you want to identify them as emotionally abusive/neglectful etc is a whole can of worms. but regardless, it's clear their behavior and parenting harmed their children. BUT here are where some major caveats come in:

similarly to the way people often do in other contexts, i have seen people want to outright completely villainize the tams and while i understand this impulse, i think it comes from the same place that a lot of well-meant but misguided discussions do. there are those that think they either must have never cared about river in any capacity at all or actively agreed to sell her out to the alliance (a theory i not only don't like or subscribe to but actually feel misses the point of what's going on with the tams and is less interesting even besides). but i think that sets up the tams to look cartoonishly evil in a way that the narrative doesn't support or intend. do i think the tams are good parents? well, no! i think it was easy to look like good parents when things were easy, but even then, there were cracks. (though i don't think everything was always bad - even in abusive situations, that is usually not the case - there are reasons why people love their parents and stay and have a hard time seeing the bad - because things aren't always like that.) i have also seen people insist or write like it's a given that the tams must have also been physically abusive, and while i don't want and would never tell anyone what they can and can't write, by my own reading, i find that unlikely. i think some of that is often coming from a place of people working through their own stuff, which again - never gonna tell anyone not to do that, you do you - but i also think at times it speaks to a societal tendency to assume that the harm isn't bad enough if it isn't physical - but i think we get a good sense of how deeply simon and river are affected even outside of the confirmation of any physical harm from their parents. (note: i do think the tams being willfully ignorant and leaving their daugher to be tortured and experimented on while on some level know that's what happening is a form of physical abuse or neglected, it's just situational and not in the traditional sense.)

but what i think is so important present, and much more interesting in this story, is that the tams are not evil, so to speak, or at least aren't mustache-twirling villains. they're not even entirely bad-intentioned; i believe they do genuinely want good things for their children, even if they have very specific ideas of what it should look like and how it will benefit them. but they have wholeheartedly, implicitly, without any room at all for questioning bought into the system values of the core and the alliance: prestige, status, and privilege treated as worth, family as a hollow projection of prestige, disruption as the ultimate trespass. to me, the story with regard to the tam parents isn't about them not caring or valuing simon and river at all - it's about valuing those things above them, and how their care is warped and shaped by those harmful systematic values.

now, this is rarer, but i have also seen people want to (maybe in response to above?), if not idolize, then absolve the tams of the role they played in river's abuse at the hands of the academy, but that doesn't ring true to me either. i want to be fair where it's due and say yes, there was danger involved (which simon put himself through) in helping river, but the fact is the narrative focuses much more on the tams focusing on what it could cost them on a social level - their status and "good name", prestige, etc. and at the end of the day, when you have children, you have responsibility to them - and the tam parents failed both of their children on that front.

one thing i also thing is so interesting to note is that simon and river are so loyal and value connection so deeply when it's clear that is not what was most instilled in them on a systematic level or taught to them by their parents. in fact, i think you could argue that while some of it was intrinsic to who they are (here's the old nature vs. nurture debate which i think you could argue simon and river are the two biggest representers of on the show), i also think it's a repsonse to this bond they formed specifically BECAUSE of their parents.

[lesbians4armand]

on the technical side of things, maybe armand is intersex. he was often described as being beautiful like a girl! he couldve been born with a boys body but as he got older and hit puberty, perhaps he had a hormone disorder he didn't know about/coupled with sexual trauma/being turned he never really got to go through a full hrt puberty.

i know armand slept with numerous vampires in his coven, but he DOES have a tendency to not fuck human beings. maybe vampires CAN get pregnant, but they need a living counter part to make it work. immortal children are banned under vampire law, so i can see why female vampires aren't having children of their own (for fear of their child/them dying/the child being unable to progress physically or mentally) but wouldn't it just be like armand to be pregnant and not know until it's too late to do anything with?

or he gets pregnant and daniels the first to recognize the symptoms? the eating, the mood swings, how feral he's gotten during sex. i assume it would be jarring to wake up and find your vampire boyfriend projectile vomiting the 70 units of blood he gorged on 3 hours prior.

INTERSEX ARMAND!! YES!! The vampires of the vampire chronicles have always defied gender in its social ways but to have it completely blur binaries of biological sex is so so good, they already have so many differences to their biology and anatomy its not too much of a stretch.

And you’re right, armand is always described as being very androgynous, and bringing that along with his limited memories of his youth and the trauma that he went through, he could very well be intersex and not even realise it, though lack of memory or some other factor. I love exploration of Armand’s gender identity a lot due to his lack of self identity in general, I’ve considered genderfluid armand before and even transgender armand (t4t devils minion… real) but intersex is a new concept to me that’s super fascinating.

(shout out to that one fic where armand IS alice because he can literally change his gender and sex at will btw been thinking about that since i read it… very good very delicious very gender)

On logistics of vampire specific pregnancy, i also agree that one participant must be a living human, i doubt that vampires can get one another pregnant (both being dead things, as well as the law to not create vampire children). I think male vampires who do sleep with human women (cough cough, lestat) would be able to get them pregnant, and that human men can get vampires pregnant too. Someone has to be alive to create life in this scenario.

Who knows if these pregnancies would be entirely viable without specific requirements. Would the fetus need blood in-utero if half-vampire?? or is the baby just human as its created with living dna regardless? how does the vampire reproductive system work?? if their hearts still pump blood and their lungs still breathe, and their brains are still alive, their reproductive system may still be functioning even if other processes shut down? Iirc the VC universe later established that vampirism is kind of like a ghost-alien parasite infecting a dead human body but keeping some parts of it living. maybe this does include reproduction, I think all grounds of logic went out when we first got to aliens.

In the tv-show universe (in which im basing this crazy au), the vampires can have sex (though they could not in the books), so this implies a working reproductive system.

Anyway yeah! I think intersex Armand COULD be getting pregnant here. Admittedly I’m not super familiar with intersex people and how this would work but I’d love to learn more and it’s definitely a way of getting mpreg to work here. I think im too scared to commit to omegaverse so this is a very fun dynamic and solution.

On to the other parts of this ask as I have gone on a bit, Armand does seem the type to neglect his own wellbeing to the point he doesn’t realise he’s pregnant until months along when there is little to be done, but I also think he wouldn’t want anything to be done. He might not have very good experience or track record with children or kid-vampires (see claudia), but he would love the evidence of love from daniel. It’s a part of daniel and a part of him, I think he’d be obsessed with that, that they can bring something that is alive and good and both of them to the world.

The idea of daniel realising like “oh my vampire boyfriend is actually very strangely, almost like he’s ill, but vampires can’t get ill! It’s weird it’s like when Alice was pregnant with… Oh! oh that’s it. okay.”

thank you for the ask this was very interesting.