#but it's impossible for it not to weigh down on their relationship and dynamic

[highdefhoetry]

tags: nsfw!! female reader, four armed sukuna, kidnapping/stockholm syndrome, cnc, rough sex, penetration (penis in vagina), giant cock, primal, choking, fingering, hand kink (finger sucking), possessiveness, toxic dynamic, ownership/controlling, hair pulling, marking, squirting, aftercare

Boyfriend!Sukuna

The relationship between you and Sukuna was always a bit off. 

When you first crossed paths with the King of Curses, you froze in fear when you caught him staring at you with intense, ravenous eyes, like those of a rabid wolf sizing up its prey. He grinned at you with malice and desire, licked his lips before approaching. You could tell he was itching to sink his teeth into your skin, to taste your flesh and eat you up until there was nothing left, that he was barely containing the primal energy that threatened to burst out of his body. You thought you were going to die, accepted your fate knowing there was nothing you could have done to stop him.

But he didn’t.

“You’re coming with me,” he growled before picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing before carrying you back to his home.

You've been together ever since.

There was something about you that piqued his interest. You never knew quite what it was, nor did you dare to ask. But he made it clear from the beginning that you belonged to him, and him alone.

At first, he treated you more like a pet than a person. He’d snap his fingers or whistle at you, call you “woman” or “girl” instead of your name. He demanded your attention at all times, barking orders at you like an owner to a dog. And you always obeyed, fearing the consequences of angering him.

After a while, you grew on him, and he grew on you. Despite his reputation as a man-eating monster, you discovered that there was a heart buried deep down in the graveyard of his chest, one that you alone had unearthed. 

There was a quiet loneliness within him that went unspoken. You could tell by his deep sighs and tendency to self-isolate that there was a lot of pain hidden in that rotting heart of his. 

He much preferred to be the listener. To your surprise, he’d often ask what was on your mind, what thoughts ran through that pretty head of yours. And you were always honest. He’d listen intently, not saying a word until you were finished. 

You thought he’d make fun of you, insult your intelligence or liken you to an insect like he did with other weak humans. But he never did.

Instead, he’d threaten to kill whoever hurt your feelings, suggesting the most violent and gory methods possible. You always politely declined, but it made you smile. That was his twisted way of showing that he cared for you.

Slowly but surely, he opened up little by little, sharing the evil thoughts that crossed his mind and the silent battles he fought alone. You listened to his woes, understanding him more and more now that you had a glimpse into his world.

He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you accepted him nonetheless. You knew you could never leave him, anyway.

The first night you slept in the same bed, you thought he’d take you. You held your breath, prepared to be ravaged by this giant, impossibly strong man who could break your spine in half if he willed it. 

But it never happened. 

He simply laid down next to you, wrapped his four arms around your waist, buried his face into your bare back, and fell asleep.

The two of you stayed like that until morning. 

And as each day passed, he grew more and more attached.

He wanted you beside him always. You slept together, bathed together, even went to the bathroom together. Your moments of privacy dwindled the longer you were with him. He owned you in every sense of the term. He owned your time. He owned your body. He owned your mind.

And he made sure everyone knew. He kept at least two of his four hands on you at all times, unless he could keep all four on your soft, delicate body. One on your thigh. Another wrapped around your waist. Sometimes resting the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, squeezing it tightly to force you to stay in place. Other times he’d pull you into his lap, where you could feel his immense cock harden against your ass.

His cock was truly immense, by the way. Probably the biggest you’d ever seen in your life. But you’d discover that for yourself soon enough.

Sukuna wasn’t one for pillow talk or sweet nothings. But he made up for that silence with his touch.

He was rough the first few times you fucked, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and pulling it back as he pumped his thick cock deep into you. He liked how it made you arch your back, the sound of your high-pitched cry, the fluttered moans that escaped your lips as he railed you until tears leaked from your eyes. 

He also enjoyed admiring the marks and bruises he left on your skin afterwards. He’d trace his fingers along the black and blue patterns, grinning maliciously whenever you flinched.

But there were times when he was soft, too. They were rare and fleeting, but cherished by you nonetheless. 

Sometimes he’d take a handful of your hair and caress it softly, scratch your scalp with his long nails before putting a hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. He’d press his lips against yours, pinch your cheeks so you’d open your mouth more, kissing you like it was the last time he’d ever see you, every time.

He’d lay you down flat on your back, thrust into you in a slow and rhythmic pattern while gazing deeply into your eyes. In those moments, you felt more connected to him than ever.

He’d kiss down your neck, onto your chest, gently biting your nipples before dragging his lips down your stomach. No skin was left untouched, no nerve ending showed mercy. 

Being with a man who had four arms meant being constantly overstimulated. One hand would be fingering your hole, curling it upwards to make you squirt and cum over and over again until you felt like you’d go insane. Another would be wrapped around your neck, restricting your blood vessels and making you feel lightheaded. Another would be delicately stroking your hips and thighs, relishing in the way your skin quivered beneath it. The last hand he’d shove in your mouth, forcing you to suck his fingers as he watched with sadistic glee.

Once he was satisfied, he’d finally let up, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath and regain your sanity. But only for a moment. That was often just the warm-up; he needed to be inside you, to feel your tight walls clench around his 12 inch cock until he came. 

Every time you’d beg him, tell him he was too big, you couldn’t take it, it wouldn't fit. 

He’d simply laugh and say, “Yes you can. I’ll make it fit.”

Despite being soaking wet, his dick was still a lot to take in. He’d push it inside, smirk when you cried out, then immediately start pumping in and out.

And god, it felt so fucking good.

You were full of his cock, moaning and screaming with every thrust while he grunted and snarled like an animal.

When he finished inside you, he hdld you down until his cock was milked dry, pumping you so full of cum that it would leak out of your hole in a perfect cream pie every time.

He’d admire the sight, gazing down at you lustfully as he licked his lips.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he’d say, one of the few times you’d hear his praise.

He wasn’t a complete monster. Afterwards, he always made sure to grab you some water and curl up against you under the covers, planting soft kisses on your skin until you fell asleep.

He knew how weak and soft humans were. And you were his most treasured. 

[austinswife]

ON THE EDGE OF US - Austin Butler

REQUESTED BY ANON

SYNOPSIS — Y/N has always been in an on-again, off-again relationship with Austin Butler. What started as a whirlwind romance between two passionate souls turned into a rocky journey filled with highs and lows, breaks and reunions. When an unexpected pregnancy binds them together, Y/N hopes their baby will bring stability. But Austin, never the “father” type, struggles with his role, frequently leaving and coming back, caught between his love for Y/N and their child and his fear of being inadequate as a father. As Y/N grapples with the pain of his absence, she faces the hard truth: Can love survive when it’s constantly walking the edge of falling apart?

WARNING(S) — Angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of leaving/abandonment, frustration with parenthood, arguments, swearing, stress and anxiety related to relationships and parenting, sensitive themes (broken family dynamics)

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The house was quiet—too quiet. The only sound was the rhythmic creaking of the rocking chair as you slowly moved back and forth, trying to soothe Lily. Her soft whimpers had been your constant soundtrack for the past hour, and you were exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. Completely. You hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in what felt like weeks, maybe even months.

The baby’s tiny fists curled against your chest as you swayed, her small face scrunched up with discomfort. You felt a lump rising in your throat, not for the first time tonight. The loneliness, the weight of it all, felt unbearable.

You glanced at the clock on the wall—2:08 a.m. The late hour only served as a reminder that once again, Austin wasn’t here.

With a soft sigh, you looked down at Lily, kissing her head gently. “It’s just us again, huh?” you whispered. The weight of that truth hung heavily in the room, even as her tiny breathing finally began to slow. You couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could do this alone.

The sound of the front door opening was so faint you almost missed it. The soft creak of the hinges felt like it echoed through the silence. Your heart clenched, emotions swirling—relief, anger, confusion. Austin was home. But was he really?

He stepped into the dimly lit living room, his body a shadow against the glow of the streetlights outside. His broad shoulders were tense, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket. You could smell the faint trace of alcohol on him, though it wasn’t overwhelming.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you and Lily. He looked tired. No, not just tired—worn. His eyes were darker than usual, like they held the weight of every fight, every argument, every night he had walked out the door and left you alone with her.

“Austin,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, but he didn’t move.

Instead, he just stood there, his eyes flicking to the floor as he shifted on his feet, the silence between you heavy and suffocating. You could feel the familiar ache in your chest, the same ache you felt every time he left. Every time he came back.

“Where have you been?” The question escaped your lips before you could stop it, more of an accusation than you intended, but the hurt laced through your voice was impossible to hide. It wasn’t just about tonight. It was about every time. Every time he chose to walk away.

Austin rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion etched into every line of his body. “I just needed some air,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. It was always the same excuse. Always some reason to get away, to escape the responsibility that weighed down on both of you.

“Air,” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping despite the knot tightening in your throat. “You always need air. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? I don’t get to just walk out when things get hard.”

He shifted uncomfortably, taking a step closer but still keeping his distance. His eyes flicked to Lily, who was finally quiet in your arms, her tiny chest rising and falling steadily. He swallowed hard, the sight of her seeming to stir something in him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to come any closer.

“I’m trying, Y/N,” he said quietly, but there was a frustration in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

“Are you?” The question hung in the air between you, raw and vulnerable. “Because it feels like every time things get tough, you’re gone. I’m here—every day, every night. I’m the one who gets up with her. I’m the one who stays when she’s crying for hours on end. But you? You’re never here when I need you.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t feel trapped too? You think I don’t feel like I’m suffocating sometimes?”

Your heart twisted painfully at his words, but you held your ground. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Austin. That’s what being parents is about. That’s what being a family is about. You don’t get to just walk out because it’s hard.”

“I’m not built for this,” he shot back, his voice rising with the frustration he had been holding in for so long. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

The words hit you like a physical blow, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. You felt tears burning at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not now.

Lily stirred in your arms at the sound of his raised voice, her little face scrunching up as if sensing the tension between you. You instinctively held her tighter, trying to shield her from the chaos unfolding.

“You didn’t ask for this?” you repeated, your voice shaking. “You didn’t ask for this?” You shook your head, anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “Neither did I, Austin! But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s here. We made this choice—together.”

Austin’s eyes softened for a brief moment, the guilt evident in the way his shoulders slumped. But then, just as quickly, the frustration returned. “I never wanted to be a father, Y/N. You know that. I don’t know how to do this.”

“You think I do?” you countered, your voice breaking as the tears you had been holding back finally began to fall. “I’m figuring it out just like you are. But the difference is, I’m here. I’m staying. I’m trying.”

He ran his hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of you like a caged animal, trapped by the weight of everything he was feeling but unable to find a way out. “I don’t know how to be the person you need me to be.”

“Then figure it out!” you cried, your voice raw with emotion. “Because I can’t do this alone anymore. I’m tired, Austin. I’m so tired of fighting for this—for us—when you’re not even sure if you want it.”

Austin stopped pacing, his eyes locking with yours for the first time that night. For a moment, it felt like everything had stilled, the world falling away until it was just the two of you, standing on the edge of something you weren’t sure you could come back from.

“I do want it,” he whispered, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “I love you, Y/N. I love her.” He glanced at Lily, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and something else—something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “But I’m scared.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the vulnerability in him. The cracks in his armor.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you looked at him. “I’m scared too,” you whispered, wiping at your tears with your free hand. “But we have to face this—together. We can’t keep doing this push-and-pull, Austin. It’s breaking us.”

He took a step closer, and this time, he reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

“We can’t fix it if you keep leaving,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth. “I need you to stay.”

Austin looked down at Lily, his hand lingering on her tiny head as she slept peacefully in your arms. His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed her soft hair, and for the first time, you saw the conflict in his eyes. The war he was fighting between wanting to be there for his family and not knowing how to handle the weight of it all.

“I’ll try,” he whispered, though his voice lacked the conviction you so desperately needed to hear. “I don’t know if I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try.”

You nodded, knowing that was the most you were going to get from him tonight. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lily’s forehead before pulling away and walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your heart tightening in your chest.

“I just need some air,” he muttered, his hand already on the doorknob. But this time, when he looked back at you, there was a flicker of something different in his eyes—something that gave you hope.

[hypnoneghoul]

@xxwhiskeyxx

Pull Me Down Again

WC: 2,7K

Relationship: Swiss & Mountain

Tags: Soft anal sex, first time, love confessions, fluffy smut

“I’d love to help, but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”

“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain."

Notes: Swissalps' first time is not a topic I fool around about. I couldn't do it half-assed, so here's nearly 3k words of them being stupid and cute and in love and fucking about it

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss had always been a lot. He had crawled out of the summoning circle uninvited—with a toothy grin and fiery eyes—but he had fitted right in and everyone had loved him right away. He’d loved them all, too, but his eyes had been fixed on one specific ghoul from the very beginning.

Mountain. The moment he’d seen the giant standing over him in the humid and moldy ritual chamber, stoic, but obviously ready to pounce if the new ghoul would decide to attack any of his packmates or Papa. Swiss hadn’t, of course, but when he thought back to that moment, he knew that even if he did have such plans, Mountain’s look alone would stop him.

He had been truly scary in that moment, but Swiss had immediately felt something else about him, too. Something the multi ghoul would recognize as the feeling of safe and home, if he had ever known them in the Pit.

When Swiss had gotten up—he had stayed down until the two ghoulettes who’s summoning he hijacked had left with the pack, not wanting to risk looking like a threat in any way—he’d swayed and stumbled on his feet, and had fallen right into the giant’s arms. He’d tensed, afraid, but Mountain’s touch was gentle. Something Swiss had never experienced before.

The earth ghoul’s face had finally softened and he’d smiled down at the slightly dumbfounded ghoul as he’d scooped him up. Swiss wasn’t especially big, nearly a runt in his old pack in the Pit—though most of the ghoul’s he had just seen were even smaller—but he wasn’t small either, and Mountain had picked him up like he weighed nothing.

“Welcome Topside,” Mountain had rumbled and Swiss felt something warm bloom in his chest.

Months later, Swiss was completely and utterly in love. So enchanted by the earth ghoul that he lost any and all composure every time he and Mountain would be in the same room. He was just perfect, so smart and beautiful and strong and gentle and–

“Hey, Swiss, you there?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Mountain’s voice.

“Yeah, uhm, h– hi,” he squeaked, cheeks burning. The earth ghoul chuckled at his fluster as he flopped down onto the couch next to Swiss. So close their thighs ended up touching and the multi ghoul’s gut twisted.

(Mountain knew exactly how stupid Swiss was about him and truth be told he was no better. The only thing he was better at was acting and not being so obvious. There was an unspoken rule amongst the ghoul’s to not offer any new summons to join the pack’s sexual and romantic dynamics until they properly settled Topside. Usually three-four months was safe, and for Swiss it had been five. Mountain was irrevocably in love with him and he didn’t want to wait anymore.)

“Any plans for the evening, darling?” the earth ghoul asked and watched Swiss’ blush get impossibly deeper in real time.

He swallowed thickly, “D– darling?”

“Not good? I just felt like it fits.”

“No, it’s– it’s nice,” Swiss mumbled and Mountain grinned. 

“Well, then?”

“Then… what?”

The earth ghoul laughed, “I asked you if you had any plans for the evening.”

“OH, oh, yeah, right, you did.” Swiss’ ears drooped and he hung his head, suddenly very interested in a certain loose thread on his jeans. “No plans.”

“In that case, would you like to spend it with me?” Mountain put a hand on the other’s thigh and the multi ghoul jumped, heat flooding him.

“Y– yeah, yes, sure,” Swiss sputtered, looking up at him to send him a little smile.

Mountain squeezed his thigh before letting go and getting up. “See you later, then. It’s a date.”

The next few hours were a torture. Swiss was anxious—terrified, really—but excited. He had no idea what Mountain would want to do with him, but he knew he’d fuck it up somehow. He didn’t know what a date really meant, so he looked it up on that tiny touchy device he was given, and the results terrified him even more. Dates were for people in love and a lot of times ended up in sex. Was that Mountain’s way of saying he did like him and maybe–

Now, Swiss knew what sex was, but he never had a chance to… participate in the act. There’s no breeding or mating opportunities for multi ghoul runts down in the Pit. He knew the feeling—roughly—he did know how to get off, relieve some pressure and pent up energy, but actual sex? With Mountain?

He came to a conclusion he’d simply die.

The earth ghoul hadn’t given him a specific time or place for when and where they should meet, so Swiss prepared himself mentally pretty early, and waited for a sign he should move. It came in a form of a text message and the multi ghoul nearly jumped out of his skin when his silly device buzzed in his pocket. Mountain told him to meet him by his room in five. Clear request, Swiss could do that.

Those five minutes were probably the longest in Swiss’ entire life, but finally he made it to the earth ghoul’s room. Mountain opened the door and his knees buckled. “Been waiting for you, darling.”

“Hi,” Swiss mumbled and dropped his eyes to the floor, the sight of Mountain in a shirt too much for him to handle. He let him in and prompted him to sit on the edge of his bed.

Swiss thought Mountain started talking, but he was too busy staring at him and taking him whole in to pay attention to what was falling from his perfect, full lips, looking so soft.

“...wiss, hey, Swiss, are you okay?” the earth ghoul waved an elegant, long fingered hand right in front of his face to snap him back to reality. Mountain’s brows were furrowed with honest worry. Swiss must’ve really spaced out.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

“You are so fucking gorgeous and smart and kind and I can’t not think about you all the time and you turn me into putty of a flustered mess and I think I’m in love with– no, I know I’m in love and you and it’s so bad it hurts and–”

Mountain stopped him with a finger placed over his lips, grinning with a glint in his eyes that couldn’t have been described with any different word than mischievous. Swiss stared at him with wide eyes, face burning after that bout of bravery.

“I think I’m in love with you, too, darling,” the earth ghoul purred, taking his finger off of Swiss’ lips and cupping his face with his hand instead.

“Thank fuck,” Swiss breathed out with a chuckle as relief washed over him. Mountain scooted closer, their legs now touching.

“May I?” he asked and Swiss remembered that.

“I– I’ve never…” he mumbled, “don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I could never be disappointed with you. I’ll teach you everything, if you’ll let me.”

“Please, Mountain. Please do.” The earth ghoul smiled and leaned in, cupping the back of Swiss’ head with his free hand and pressing their lips together. Swiss let out a sweet little nose when they met, melting into the kiss and Mountain’s arms. Feeling nothing but contentement from the multi ghoul, he deepened the kiss, slowly exploring him.

Neither of them knew if they made out like that—all lovely and gently—for ten minutes or an hour. At some point Swiss ended up laid out on the plush bed with Mountain hovering over him as he peppered the multi ghoul’s face with kisses, making him giggle like a teenage girl. Nothing was rushed, they enjoyed just feeling each other and kissing until they were breathless, only to move to kissing the other somewhere else. It was perfect.

Until Swiss got anxious. He tensed when he felt something low in his gut stirring, afraid that it was still not what Mountain would want from him, that he’d mess up their good time by popping a boner. The earth ghoul felt his sudden hesitation. He pulled away. “Everything okay, darling?”

“Yeah, I just– I don’t want my body to ruin it,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“What do you mean– oh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re really hot and I’ve been literally dreaming about this and I’m a dumbass who can’t control–”

“It’s okay.” Mountain stopped his rambling again, this time with a kiss. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, we can proceed however you want. We can pause so you can take care of it on your own… or I can help you.”

Swiss stammered, “W– would you? But I’ve never…”

“I would, I’d love to,” the earth ghoul assured, “but your first time has to be special, so if you don’t want to have it with me, I underst–”

“NO! No, please, I’d never want it to be anyone else, I want you. Please, Mountain, I want it to be you,” Swiss pleaded, clinging to Mountain’s shoulder with an iron grip. Once he realized he was doing it he let go, not wanting to hurt him.

“Okay,” he huffed with a smile, “okay, darling, we can do that. I’m honored, but are you absolutely sure?”

Swiss nodded frantically, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Mountain leaned down to kiss him once more before pulling away to unbutton his shirt. The multi ghoul’s mouth fell open as more and more skin was revealed and Mountain smirked. He wasn’t vain, but he wouldn’t lie and say Swiss’ reactions didn’t fuel some weird fire inside him.

“Like what you see, don’t you, darling?”

“Uh-uh.”

The earth ghoul chuckled at his sophisticated response and threw the shirt completely off. “Your turn.”

Swiss snapped out of his trance—but didn’t take his eyes off of Mountain—and with shaky fingers tried to take care of his own shirt. He was too shaky, though, and failed miserably on the buttons. After a few moments of watching his struggle intently, the earth ghoul batted his hands away and opened his shirt for him. Meanwhile, Swiss looked as if drool would start trailing down his chin any moment.

Soon enough—but not as soon as it could’ve been—they were both naked and now Swiss actually was drooling at the sight of the earth ghoul’s beautiful cock. He was also anxious, intimidated by its size.

As he was staring at his dick, Mountain was warming up lube between his fingers. He was kneeling between Swiss’ legs, calves on Mountain’s thighs, nicely spread and waiting. He may have been a blushing virgin, but at that point he was so focused on the earth ghoul he couldn’t care less about being exposed. For the first time ever like this.

“Ready?” he asked. Swiss nodded frantically, but Mountain only tutted. “Words, darling.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” he begged as he bent his legs and opened them further.

The other smiled, leaned down to kiss Swiss’ knee and brought his hand to his hole. With his eyes locked on the multi ghoul’s own to watch out for any signs of discomfort, Mountain pressed a finger in.

“Oh,” Swiss huffed. “That’s… weird, but nice.”

“You’ve never even put anything up here?”

“N– n–oh,” he broke off into a moan when Mountain crooked his fingers and hit his prostate. “Just a– a quick handy now and t– then.”

The earth ghoul hummed in acknowledgement and continued slowly working him open, his free hand smoothing up and down Swiss’ thigh soothingly.

He was floating. He had no idea that sex was all that. He knew the concept, but only from the Pit, where everything was about survival. Sex there was quick and feral and rarely about pleasure. This? This was as close to heaven as any ghoul could ever get.

The multi ghoul zoned out a bit, drowning in love that Mountain was showering him in. He had never before felt so… important.

Mountain squeezed his thigh assuringly as he pulled his fingers out. (When did he get four in there?) “Swiss, are you with me? I need you to listen for me now, okay?”

“Uh-uh… yeah.”

“This is the part where I… put it in. Are you still down, are you sure? I can and will stop at any moment if you need me to, but there’s no going back once that line is crossed,” he explained and while normally it would sound painfully patronizing, Swiss felt nothing but kindness and caring from Mountain.

“I trust you, Mountain,” the multi ghoul said, trying to sound as coherent as possible for that one moment. “I want you and I’m sure of it. I am in love with you.”

“Okay,” he muttered and rose on his knees, moving to hover over Swiss. One hand next to his head, the other on his hip, holding protectively but not possessively. Not yet.

Mountain kissed him and guided his cock to Swiss’ ass.

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips and pushed in. The multi ghoul moaned into Mountain’s mouth as he kept going deeper and deeper, Swiss’ legs wrapped around his middle, until his hips were flush against the other’s. “Okay?”

“S– so, so okay,” Swiss breathed out. “But, uhm… I don’t think it's gonna be a long ride.”

Mountain chuckled, giving the other a moment to adjust, “Me neither, darling, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You gonna fuck me on every surface Topside in that time?”

“Probably. If you’re good I may let you fuck me, too.”

“That’s a good– fuck, incentive,” the multi ghoul giggled, making Mountain laugh at him, too. “Can we, uh, can you move now? Please?”

Mountain nodded and slowly pulled out, just to push back in with a bit more purpose, but equal amounts of gentleness. Swiss moaned, all fucked out, and the earth ghoul took it as a good sign. He picked up a slow but solid rhythm, hitting the other’s prostate with every thrust, causing waves of pleasure to wash over him.

As for Mountain himself, he was barely holding onto his sanity. Swiss was so tight, wet and warm, it was pure bliss. He’d never let himself lose composure in such a moment, but he knew for sure there would be a time he’d fuck the multi ghoul into a true mess.

“M– Mountain, I– I’m– I’m gonna–”

“That’s okay. It’s alright, darling,” he assured, speeding up just a little bit. Swiss hooked his arms around the earth ghoul’s neck and brought him down for a desperate, borderline filthy kiss. Mountain brought a hand to cup his face to return it, albeit a little gentler than Swiss did. “Are you gonna come for me, hm?”

“Yes– fuck,” he whined loudly. “Please, and– and you… in, Mountain, please.”

“Mhm,” Mountain hummed and doubled down on pushing Swiss to the brink of his orgasm. It didn’t take much—barely a few thrusts—before the multi ghoul was going rigid in his arms, clenching around his cock and spilling white between them with a pretty little noise falling from his lips. “There we go, my darling. My sweet darling.”

He was beyond words in the throes of the best orgasm of his entire life. Mountain didn’t need much more to come himself, but a bolt of anxiety shot through him at the sight of tears in Swiss' eyes. He never prayed for anything before, but at that moment he was praying that it was good tears.

“Swiss? Swiss, darling, are you okay?” he asked as soon as he saw some brain return to the multi ghoul as they were coming down.

“Yeah, no, it’s good. So good,” he said, all breathless. “It’s just… I’ve never… I wasn’t ever anyone’s anything, much less someone’s darling.”

Mountain smiled, relieved. “I love you, my heart,” he whispered into Swiss’ lips, following it with a kiss between his horns.

“Your heart, now, hm?” the multi ghoul hummed, half-asleep under him already.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

[jessoloslemons]

Been thinking...

So, because of the absence of brozone's parents in the 3rd movie, we assume that they either were killed or terrible parents, so comes in John having to raise his siblings (presumably) by himself. Their grandma probably not being much help.

We usually talk about the stress and impact it probably had on John, suddenly having to step us as the leader of the household at such a young age, but what about Bruce - the second oldest?

Bruce probably witnessed the change of character of John, watching his brother force himself to mature. From being a goofy and playful older brother who loved to sleep in, to someone who'd already be busy in the morning and somehow always tired, a sad look evident in his eyes. Especially when their younger brothers started to enter the picture.

He would notice how there would already be breakfast on the table once he awakes, how JD would immediately take action whenever either Clay or Floyd would start to cry or throw a tantrum, immediately running to their side cheering them up, and how the eldest would always be the last to sleep and the first to wake up the next day.

He'd also witnessed John start Brozone, and he'd do his best to help, just wanting to see his brother genuinely smile again. All he wanted was to see the brother who would give him piggyback rides every morning as their mom would make breakfast, the brother who'd easily laugh at his jokes and make funny faces all the time, the brother who'd chase him around the pod then proceeding to tickle him relentlessly once he caught him. He just wants his older brother back. To see him again.

But after years passed, and his younger brothers started to get involved in the boyband and a new baby arrives (Branch), that hope started to feel impossible. John was now annoying, controlling, and obsessed with being perfect. Barely thinking about the well-being of others at this point, his only goal is to please the fans and make sure Brozone is in top shape.

Bruce hated this. He hated the toxicity weighing down their relationship as brothers. He hated always being told to do better because it's always never enough. He hated John, and it hurts him to feel that way towards his first friend, and now first enemy.

And so you bet it broke his heart immensely when the boyband broke up, and that John was the first to leave. Not even leaving with a proper goodbye or a guarantee that he's coming back. Not even bothering to look back at any of his brothers, not even to him.

But even if he was so angry and tired of his shit that night, a distant part of his heart sobbed when John left the pod. If he didn't have self-control and pride, he'd probably just break down there and then. But instead, he also walked out, desperate to leave and finally be able to breathe again.

Fast forward to 20 years later, you bet it took every bit of Bruce's willpower not to tackle John in a tight hug once he laid his eyes on him again. Despite the heartaches and tears JD had caused in the past, he was still his brother, and he may not admit it out loud, but he still loves John, so much, and he missed him, so so badly.

--

Hi! So i just had an idea and knew I had to write about it right away!

John and Bruce's dynamic as siblings is totally underrated and smth we need to talk about more often ^ i love them both sm and i'd love to see them together more often and know of their relationship with one another <3

[Also i headcanon that Bruce called John Johnny as a kid, and when he calls him that now that they're older, JD is smitten and moved to tears]

Thxs for reading! Thoughts?

[chamiryokuroi]

thoughts on timber in light of tdr #7? i’ve seen some people argue that they’re unhealthily codependent and i’m intrigued by that potential dynamic

Anon I’m going to be honest, that’s the most stupid thing I have heard so far this week and is just Monday oh my god, how can someone lack so much reading comprehension.

Unhealthy Codependency in a relationship is when one person wouldn’t be able to take any decision without permission/acceptance of the other person. How in the heck does that match what happened in TD:R? I can bet whoever said that is a homophobic comic fan jfc

TIM DRAKE ROBIN SPOILERS AHEAD

Here we see that Bernard is fully aware of the fact that Tim can’t always be there for him and he has accepted that, and we can see that Tim wants to stay behind for Bernard but his duty as Robin goes before anything else. Does that sound like unhealthy codependency to you? If it was they wouldn’t be able to stay away from each other.

Or maybe they’re talking about this page where Bernard admits that it is easier to deal with things when Tim’s around, but again he is not being dependent on Tim, he walked away from conflict, he doesn’t say it is impossible just that it is harder, had he been codependent we would had seen him shutting down, maybe even begging for Tim to be there for him to fix it.

And when Tim shows up pay attention to what the text says “Necessary for any menu. Sometimes after the main course. To help with digestion.”

Yes it is about food but it can also be interpreted as Tim being of help, a source of comfort, but that is not bad? What? Should Bernard not rely on his boyfriend for comfort after such awful words were thrown at his face by his own father? Is he supposed to deal with it because otherwise he’s weighing down on Tim??

And let’s be honest, had it been Stephanie asking for comfort after a confrontation with her father nobody would call it unhealthy codependency, it would had been such a sweet moment showing how good of a boyfriend Tim is, and how in tune with her emotions Stephanie is to be able to ask for help, but queer comics and queer couples (in any flavor not only mlm) are always held to a higher standard, if it is not perfect in every aspect they’re unhealthy and bad representation, but if they’re perfect and safe then they’re boring and unrealistic, we literally can never win.

[flowersforchoso]

Poison (ft. syzoth)

cw: established relationship, toxic dynamic

he loves you. it was impossible not to.

even when your words hauled him into the pit of despair. to the point he questions his worth. on nights, curled in a fetal position letting his sorrow flow freely. that though he could spit acid, it was nothing compared to your venom.

the silence and deprivation of touch that followed after were torturous and had him spiralling, only temporarily comforted by the times he was in your good graces which also served as a remainder on what he had lost.

those were his happiest moments. grateful for the crumbs of affection you threw at him, which he devoured, wolfing down like a starved man to sate his hunger and savoring its taste.

one of his worst nightmares was losing you. a fear that you weaponized against him that had him on his knees; begging, and a sobbing mess because he could not live without you, just like one without air.

he wanted to be a part of your world but you didn't let him, and he knew why. he was different; too different. but was willing to change parts of himself to appeal to you—mold himself into what you desired. your validation a high that he constantly sought.

and despite being your secret, some knew and said you were no good for him. but they were wrong; mistaken. merely outsiders voicing their ignorance, and unsolicited at that. because you loved him and had told him so. in the throes of passion. with love came many trials and tribulations that he would gladly endure. your words weighed heavy on his scale, not theirs.

in this neverending cycle, he was a mouse in a cheese trap that didn't need saving nor desired freedom. as he was perfectly content with the state of things.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Can I request Bruce finding out about oddducks past relationship? I’m in love with their dynamic and how Bruce is taking things slow for her sake

Bruce paused outside your office door when Clark glared at him and felt his cheeks darken slightly. He supposed it shouldn't shock him that he was there- you lived in the same city. And he'd learned from Lois that one or both of them would come drag you away from your work when they hadn't heard from you in a day or two. Or just when you'd been a little less social than usual.

"Wha-" Clark broke off and took a deep breath. Remembering the frustration in your voice. And how thoroughly you'd shut down any and all attempts to talk about Prague OR the subsequent coffee dates that weren't dates OR the text conversations. "Give it a minute," Clark said, leaning against the wall. "She's on the phone with her mother."

Bruce frowned and nodded slowly, "Alright-" The thud of either a forehead or a fist hitting the desk and a noise reminiscent of a cat being stepped on made Bruce jump and Clark winced, holding out a hand to stop him from opening the door.

"She's fine- relatively speaking." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He could hear both sides of the conversation as clearly as if he'd been in the room. And he wished he couldn't.

"What the hell-"

"Listen," Clark said quietly, aware that your hearing- while not super in any capacity was still fairly sharp- "Let's take a walk."

"I don't need another shovel tal-"

"It's not about that," Clark said jerking his head toward the door, hoping the world's greatest detective would figure it out as he walked down the hall where he knew he could find coffee to bribe you with and an empty student lounge.

Bruce followed, glancing hesitantly towards your office door, trying not to feel unnerved when Clark shut the lounge door and put his foot against it to keep it from opening.

"Two- almost three years ago, things were... bad," Clark said hesitating, weighing how much detail he could give without saying anything that would upset you if you found out about it. "A very long story short, she wound up being the other woman in a profoundly fucked up situation." Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, "She had no idea until his wife showed up. With their kids- it was... horrible. And to this day, her mother refuses to believe she didn't know."

Bruce nodded, wrapping his brain around that. True, he didn't know you well. But- he could believe that you'd either write off or not notice any of the massive red flags. And it made him feel sick. "And so her mother-"

"Well. She tried to get a guardianship first of all. And now failing that just refuses to let her live it down."

"She's a doctor-"

"Who reliably pays her own bills and has an extensive network of close professional associates... Including members of the press who may or may not have threatened to blow the whole story up if she didn't back off," Clark said.

Bruce snorted, "So now what?"

"She doesn't go home much and only actually calls her the day her period starts so she can get all the unpleasantness out of the way at the same time," Clark shuddered slightly. He wished he didn't know that. But he did. And now he knew better than to eavesdrop on girl's night.

Bruce smiled just a little and Clark exhaled slowly, "She really didn't know-"

"And you never checked?" Bruce countered.

"I was- well frankly I was too wrapped up in... everything to really see it. She was happy. Or at least content it looked like so I let it go."

"And now you're overcompensating and doing the same thing as her mother because?" Bruce folded his arms and felt his eyes narrow. You'd not said much about Clark and why he was so against it. Bruce assumed that you didn't know. Or that you might have been trying to spare his feelings. But it was impossible, he realized for you not to know. And a lot more likely that you were tired of being treated like a child.

"I'm not-"

'Not letting her make her own mistakes and trust her own judgment and punishing her for being lied to-"

"It's not like that."

"Sure sounds like it."

Bruce could see the gears spinning. He could see the Kryptonian trying to be angry. Trying to find some justification for righteous indignation. And he saw the moment there was none forthcoming when his shoulders sagged.

"It broke her heart, Bruce. She was hurt and confused. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep- it just. I'd never seen her do that. Not even when her grandparents died."

"I don't want to hurt her," Bruce said quietly. He wanted to run back to your office and kiss you until you couldn't think straight. Then call your mother and yell at her.

"Just- Please tell me you don't have a wife somewhere?" Clark snorted.

"No," Bruce said rolling his eyes. "That was a publicity stunt. We never even filed papers-"

"Jesus Christ."

"Kidding. Kind of."

[ahsokathegray]

Codpieces and Clone Con Artists

Pairings: Rexsoka, Foxiyo, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Jun. ‘23 - It’s Not What It Looks Like

Summary: In the immediate aftermath of the Republic winning the war, Rex and Ahsoka find themselves busier than they'd imagined. After having almost a full week of near misses with one another, the tension left unaddressed after the Siege of Mandalore comes to a head (wink wink).

Tags: first crack fic attempt, no Order 66, alcohol, Hardcase is hammered, everyone lives, semi graphic depiction of Palps kicking the bucket, Hardcase hurls his guts out, adult humor, adult situations

Word Count: 6,037

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

The end of war celebrations lasted for more than a week. Ahsoka had lost track of just how many individual gatherings she’d been to by now. Her first sit down had been with Anakin inside Padmé’s apartment, or rather, the couple’s shared apartment. 

Together, she and her Master worked through the strain that weighed on their relationship, clearing the air and restoring the dynamic they’d both missed so dearly. Anakin had profusely apologized to her the entire night, despite her efforts to tell him that her trust in him had never faltered. He was overjoyed with her return and proud beyond measure of her successes. He was especially relieved to no longer have to conceal a relationship that she apparently was already aware of and had been for quite a while.

Ahsoka couldn’t have been happier for them. The end of war and revised Jedi Code brought her impossibly closer to her dearest friends. Seeing both Padmé and Anakin light up around each other, freely, warmed her heart. 

Once her Master did finally stop apologizing, they hopped between many topics. They spoke of Palpatine’s gruesome execution via zillo beast, what plans Maul had been spilling during his trial hearings, and how the siege went on Mandalore. 

Naturally, the Captain (now Commander) was brought up as well, but she evaded the topic like it was the blue shadow virus. She still hadn’t fully been able to wrap her head around the thrumming in her veins that had started when they reunited. It made her feel somewhat sick, but in the best way possible. 

She’d visited the barracks a few times that week, going out of her way to make an appearance not just in front of her own troops, but the entirety of the 501st. It was cathartic in a way she’d not been able to imagine on her days below the surface of Coruscant. Good news was in greater supply than she’d anticipated, with more familiar faces around than not. Ahsoka didn’t ever think there’d come a day where she didn’t fear the loss of her men’s lives. An immense weight had been lifted in that area alone. 

Before she could even really join in on the boy’s celebration, she’d been summoned by Master Plo. With a promise to return another time, and a hole in her heart from not having seen Rex since delivering Maul in custody, she headed back to the Temple. 

It was a joyous homecoming that was seemingly endless, a new set of Masters, Padawans, and troops returning each and every day. Speaking of which, Ahsoka had even gone out of her way to request an audience with Barriss. Her old friend has refused the visitation request, but Ahsoka was glad she’d tried anyway. 

Closure had come to her in almost every way except one.

Many of her peers and colleagues, not to mention Anakin, had come forth with their relationships in lieu of the Jedi Order revising some of its outdated policies. Even members of its own Council were involved in unsurprising relationships with their clone Captains or Commanders. Her Senator friend Riyo Chuchi had even fit into that category. She crossed paths with Ahsoka while grabbing a cup of caf before one of Maul’s hearings and had divulged brief details about her and a member of the Coruscant Guard. The news honestly surprised Ahsoka more than the reveal of some of the more rigid Jedi Generals being involved with someone.

Riyo had invited Ahsoka to spend time with her and the Corrie Guard at 79’s that evening, to which she happily accepted. It would definitely cut close to her second dinner with the Skywalkers (who’s family number had just increased by two members), but she’d find a way to make it work. 

Much to Anakin’s and Padmé’s dismay, she left a little earlier than planned to be able to catch an air taxi to the clone bar. She sprinted through the Federal District and was somehow able to hail a cab that wasn’t already occupied. Traveling across the planet wasn’t difficult, just leagues more crowded than usual with all the celebrations still ongoing. Everyone had somewhere to be. 

She was only a few minutes late and exited the taxi with haste, smoothing her dress as she jumped from the backseat and handed over the credits to the driver. Riyo waved her down from outside the bustling establishment and beamed at her. “Ahsoka!” she greeted, pulling her friend into a tight hug, “I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here. Fox and I just arrived.” She motioned towards the man in red painted armor that Ahsoka already knew. It seemed all sorts of relationships and acquaintances were being transformed in light of the war ending. 

“Commander Tano,” Fox addressed her by rank, “I’d like to formally apologi—”

“No apology needed, Fox,” she smiled, “I’m afraid I’m done accepting apologies this week. Let’s say you buy our drinks and we’ll call it even.”

He laughed and nodded, “I’ll say that’s fair, Commander. Let’s make our way inside?”

Riyo beamed and tucked a stray gray hair behind his ear before following him through the door. She turned to Ahsoka and grabbed her hand, pulling her friend closer, “I’ve never seen Fox apologize to anyone.”

Ahsoka giggled, “I take it that was a big deal, then.”

“Huge,” Riyo laughed with her as they waded through the crowd. 

Accompanying the men in 79’s was a favorite pastime of Ahsoka’s. It’s where she learned to play (or rather, how to chat at) Sabacc with Jesse and where Cody taught her the ins and outs of bolo-ball. They’d often come to watch the more anticipated limmie matches here rather than inside the barracks. The clone bar is where she learned possibly too many useless facts about different alcohols, or how many shots of Tihaar it took to get Kix up and dancing with his brothers. It was where she’d had her first drink, both legal and otherwise, the latter being completely by accident and sworn to secrecy from the Captain by all parties involved.

She smiled at the memories she’d made, knowing well, finally that she’d get to continue to make them for years to come.

Fox led them to a booth with several faces she knew rather well. The Torrent Company division of the 501st were already waiting for them, plates of appetizers devoured and their eyes fixed on the pod-racing tournament broadcasting above the bar. 

“Commander!” they greeted, some of them slurring the word. 

Ahsoka waved to them and scooted into the booth behind her two escorts, “For the last time, you don’t—”

“Have to call you Commander anymore,” finished a voice from behind her. She knew it all too well. Ahsoka turned and was then face-to-face with Rex. He was leaned coolly against the booth, his signature half-smile playing at his lips and plate of ronto rinds in his hand. “We know, Commander,” he shot her a wink and then placed the food on the table, “Don’t let the boys eat everything. Beats me how they’re even still hungry.”

Fives cocked an eyebrow and asked him, “What gives, Captain? Aren’t you doing the waitress’s job? Got a side hustle we don’t know about?” Someone else made a comment about job security before falling victim to the newest tray of food. 

Rex scowled, “You mean those cross-wired waitress droids that can’t get the orders right? I’ll pass.” A series of pouts were given by the boys before their hunger made them forget their disappointment. Ahsoka chuckled as he slid into the booth beside her and Fox gave their drink orders to the droid that appeared anyway despite Rex’s complaints. 

Suddenly, having him so close made her heart jump into her throat. They’d been in sporadic contact since delivering Maul over to the proper authorities, but any opportunity they’d had to see one another kept getting missed. First they’d attempted to schedule some one-on-one time over caf, except she’d couldn’t delay her conversation with Anakin again. Then, he was supposed to be at the barracks the first time she’d gone over there, but Master Plo had arrived at the Temple. She even dropped by a few times more in the off chance that he’d be in his office. 

Maybe he was working part time as a waitress for the bar, she thought humorously. 

The end of the war kept everyone much busier than she would’ve ever imagined. There were trials, hearings, and Senate meetings to attend. In addition to that, no one was going to miss Palpatine’s public execution via consumption. And Ahsoka wasn’t going to turn down anyone’s offer to catch up just so she could wait around for Rex to not be busy. 

But he was here now, and it felt like a nest of mynocks had taken flight in her stomach.

“You’re a difficult woman to track down,” he commented, leaning closer so that she could hear him over the other thumping music and surrounding conversations. His hot breath on her montrals sent a shiver up her spine. She nearly melted into a puddle on the cracked booth seating. Rex tugged at the hem of his glove and Ahsoka couldn’t help but focus her attention on his hands… Why was she — wait… She looked around the crescent shaped table, breaking free of the trance, and noticed Rex was the only one other than Fox that was still in uniform. 

Everyone else had civvies on. Of course, she’d noticed the men’s new, casual clothing when she’d visited the barracks earlier in the week, but hadn’t thought to consider Rex wearing anything other than his armor. Now, she was thinking it was a good thing that he hadn’t appeared before. She’d never even seen Rex half-kitted, let alone just in his blacks. Seeing him in civilian clothing would’ve rendered her speechless. Becoming a puddle in the seat might’ve been a very real outcome had he shown up tonight like that. 

No longer was he a clone Captain or Commander. He was just Rex. And he’d never been this distracting… except for when he stood so close to her aboard the Tribunal. The conversation they had on the way back home had been running around in her mind since returning. It was a wonder she could focus on catching up with anyone at all. 

“I could say the same about you,” she said back, piling her plate with ronto rinds before the rest of the boys could scarf them down. 

Rex stole a rind from her plate and took a bite out of it, smirking as he did so. Why was that so… Was that attractive? “Yeah, I’ve never been so busy on leave before,” he chuckled, popping a finger into his mouth and sucking. 

Definitely attractive. 

Ahsoka inhaled deeply and corrected her posture, trying desperately not to linger on a display that shouldn’t have affected her, “Tell me about it. We can’t seem to be in the same place at once. And I didn’t think for a second that I’d be seeing you here of all places.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes sparkling under the neon lights. Kix returned from the ‘fresher then, squeezing back into the booth and minimizing some of the space from between her and Rex. There was an immense comfort in their proximity, but she was a karking goner when the sides of their thighs became pressed together. Ahsoka swallowed thickly, knowing he couldn’t feel her, but she felt him enough for the both of them.

All at once, she both hoped there were no more men coming to sit at their table and hoped that there was. How many more people could they squeeze into this booth before she was all but sitting in his lap? Ahsoka was silently thankful for the dim bar lighting and colorful strobes, as it hid her darkening lekku. She pushed her nerves aside and lifted a brow marking, “Maybe because I’ve never seen you in here before. I’d wager all my credits that you’ve never stepped foot inside this bar until tonight.”

She could feel the rumble of his laugh from where her leg was pressed against his. He flashed his white teeth and teased, “Right. And how many credits do you have again?”

Jesse laughed obnoxiously with a mouth stuffed full, “She’s got a point, Rex! You’ve been here maybe twice?”

“Only if you’re counting tonight! And the fact that the Comman—” Fives joined in, but was promptly elbowed in the ribs by Fox. 

Rex looked down at her and Ahsoka didn’t know whether she regretted or stood by her teasing comment. Either way, the way Rex was looking at her now, closely resembled the way he’d been looking at her the last time they’d been together. There had been a frenzy of energized something between them on the Tribunal’s bridge that she tried hard to forget about but just couldn’t. It was there during the entire siege, but utterly unmistakeable there on the return trip to Coruscant.

Having these near misses with him over the week has been incredibly frustrating, but had also worked to give her more time to think. She supposed the time was beneficial, as she could hardly hear herself think now that she was in the bustling interior of 79’s. 

“Yeah, well, heard this place hasn’t formally closed in three days. Had to come see what all the fuss was about,” he joked, looking at Hardcase in particular, “I’m willing to take the bet that he hasn’t left this bar in that long.” Then, as the time struck midnight, the bar showed another replay of Palpatine cowering in front of the zillo beast before he became solely a pair of pale ankles sticking out of its mouth. The bar cheered and hollered, confetti shooting up and drinks tilting back. 

Fox gave a dark chuckle to the left of her while the rest of their table groaned, as it was their first replay of the action without having a drink in their hands. Hardcase was happily snatching nearby shot glasses that other brothers had abandoned, adding more of the liquid to his body than he should’ve. A few of the men at their table (not Fives) grumbled about the Bettie droids, but their complaints drifted away as Rex leaned in closer to Ahsoka’s left montral, “Skywalker told me you’d be here.”

Ahsoka bit her lip and turned her attention to him again. He tilted his head down so that she could speak near his ear. “Well, I hadn’t seen Riyo yet and I’d already seen Anakin earlier in the week.”

He laughed, “I figured as much. If I waited your schedule out any longer, I just as well might’ve never seen you again.”

“I’m a busy woman,” she teased again. 

Rex opened his mouth to respond but Riyo tapped Ahsoka on the shoulder at the same time. She turned to where her friend sat beside her and the girl gave a knowing glance, her blue cheeks a shade of periwinkle. Ahsoka didn’t miss for a second Fox’s ungloved hand resting on the girl’s thigh. “Ahsoka, come with me to the refresher?”

She nodded, “Of course.” Rex smiled at the pair and stood so that they could exit the booth. Riyo wrapped delicate fingers around Ahsoka’s wrist and pulled her through the swaying bodies and droids holding drinks on platters, weaving them through the packed room and into the women’s refresher at the back corner of the bar. 

“Fox just told me something rather interesting,” Riyo grinned, grabbing Ahsoka’s hands and holding them in her own. 

The Togruta stood confused and tilted her head, “What was it?”

Riyo couldn’t conceal her delight if she tried, “Apparently Captain Rex has been losing sleep looking for you all week! Ahsoka, what happened on Mandalore?”

Ahsoka blinked and the reality of her and Rex’s shift in dynamic was no longer unspoken. It was tangible and real and could be seen by others. It could be seen by others… The rules that once forbade such acts had given way. 

“Hello,” Riyo laughed, dragging out the vowels of the word, “Is my friend still in there?”

The sound of her laughter brought Ahsoka out of her thoughts. “Yes. Sorry, I just…” she shook her head at herself, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud.”

Riyo bit her lip in excitement, “I knew I should’ve reached out sooner! Tell me everything!”

“It was immediate. Right as I got back… Right as I saw him again for the first time… Nothing has been the same between us since. It was there for the entire duration of the mission.”

“And you haven’t seen him since?” Riyo gasped, on the edge of her seat with the details. 

Sighing, Ahsoka confirmed, “No. I don’t know how to explain it. There was so much… electricity between us and I couldn’t pull myself out of it. I didn’t want to. But we had to finish the mission and bring Maul in. I expected it to just disappear, for things to go back to how they were before. Even being apart from him… it has yet to go away. And now that he’s here tonight—”

But she cut herself off when Riyo shook her head and looked up at the ceiling. 

“What is it?” Ahsoka asked, feeling ridiculous. 

“Ahsoka, please tell me you’re joking,” Riyo gushed and looked around the room in amused disbelief. “Is it really not obvious that the man is in love with you?”

Ahsoka was stunned, her hands falling limp and slipping from Riyo’s hold. It had been the answer she’d already known deep in her bones. Her friend spoke the truth so casually and it knocked the breath out of her. 

The Pantoran smiled sweetly and ushered Ahsoka to stand in front of a mirror, “It seems you're in need of a pep talk. Girl talk. Because the universe knows the men are talking. Ahsoka, what you just described may be foreign to you, but it isn’t to me. Everything you feel is exactly what Fox and I feel for each other. But we can get to me another day. Look, according to Fox, Rex hasn’t been the same since you guys got back either. You’ve turned his galaxy inside out!”

Rex shuffled out of the booth himself and headed for the men’s room. Thorn gave him a nod on the way and clapped his back before making a beeline for the bar. The 501st’s Captain garnered many a salute, carving a path through various brothers on his way to a more private area of the refresher. He’d just been about to remove his codpiece to relieve himself when another hand clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jump. 

A laugh that could belong only to Fives echoed in his ears. Fuming, Rex turned to face his brothers, each one with mischievous expressions painting their faces. “Haar’chak, I can’t use the refresher in peace?”

“Nope,” Hardcase hiccuped into a giggle, a colorful drink in hand that he definitely plucked off of a table that wasn’t their own. There was even a tiny drink umbrella tucked behind his ear. 

Rex tightened his jaw, “What’s so important that it couldn’t possibly wait until I got back?”

Fives backed away with his hands up in defense, “Can’t hear a thing out there. And Fox just confirmed our suspicions. We couldn’t very well talk about your fondness for the Commander in front of her could we?” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

The Captain stood up straighter and was prepared to deny the accusation when Jesse chimed in, “I–If I may Captain, it’s pretty obvious even without the confirmation. You’ve been noticeably absent from our celebrations and based on the way the two of you interacted on the mission… I’d say it all adds up.”

“I expect better out of you troopers,” Rex barked, attempting to regain control. 

Hardcase’s previously grin-plastered face now sported a frown and Kix consoled him, “It’s okay. You know he can be harsh when he feels like he’s been backed into a corner. He doesn’t mean it.”

Jesse crossed his arms and shared a look with Fives, feeling only slightly guilty for reporting to the men what chemistry he’d seen brewing between their beloved Captain and Commander during the siege. “Look Rex, we aren’t here to give you any shit,” the newest ARC began. 

“Yeah, for tonight,” Fives added, a wicked smile on his lips. 

“Right. We figure if you were looking for her all week, the least we can do is help out now that she’s here. The offer stands for tonight only, so the choice is yours. We have absolutely no problem giving you shit out there in front of her if you’d prefer,” Jesse wagered.

Rex sighed, knowing he didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. He’d planned out what he was going to say to her all week… trying to figure out the best way to go about it. His nerves didn’t usually get to him like this. “I really don’t like how conniving this lot gets when they drink.”

Kix laughed, now holding Hardcase’s drink as the man was nearly asleep with all the alcohol in his veins, “That’s not the work of the drinks, Captain. It’s a talent that comes to them completely naturally.”

“All natural,” Fives agreed, “Has to be. That kriffing droid never came back with our drinks!”

Shaking his head, Rex gave in, “Alright. I can’t believe I’m going through with this, but… Tell me what I need to do.”

“First thing you need to do is open your eyes, Ahsoka,” Riyo said as she plucked fuzz off of Ahsoka’s navy tunic, “What is all this stuff, anyway? Fox would die if he saw all of this on Mandalorian threads. But I digress, when we get back out there, you need to swallow your nerves and look into his eyes. I’d be shocked if anyone at the table missed the way he lit up around you! Just that body language alone? I mean, look at how this blue material brings out the color of your eyes!”

Ahsoka shook her head, never caring much about these things. But could her friend be right to some degree?

“And don’t think I didn’t see those orange helmets. Fox had his own assumptions that Rex was the one who ordered them to be painted, but your ARC out there — Jesse, I think — confirmed it to him just the other day.” Ahsoka thought about all those helmets with her markings on them. Had Rex used a holo of her for reference or did he have her markings memorized? 

Content with her work, Riyo shook her hand free of all the fuzz balls that had gathered on Ahsoka’s dress and smiled, “There!”

“I look exactly the same, Riyo,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Nonsense! The blue in this dress absolutely pops now. The way I’m assuming it did on Mandalore,” the girl teased, winking at her friend through their reflections.

They began to make their way out of the vacant refresher when Riyo decided to make one more quick adjustment, “Oh!” Ahsoka lifted a brow marking and Riyo had both palms turned up, “Hand me your gloves, too.”

“My gloves? What does this have to do with my gloves, Riyo?”

“Just trust me,” her friend laughed. And so Ahsoka obliged, shucking her hand gauntlets and gloves and handing them over to her. “Alright. I’ll keep them safe. Now go back out there and leave your nerves in here. I’ll be right behind you.”

He'd been in the ‘fresher for way too long. Rex had no desire to listen to Hardcase retch into a stall behind him and he sympathized with Jesse, who was holding their incapacitated brother upright. The last thing they needed was for his head to get stuck again. 

Fives talked Rex through some of his best pick-up lines while Kix showed him how to use cosmetic wax strips. He kept a spare kit in his utility belt at all times so that he could touch up the complex design he kept shaved into his head. Rex never even knew what his brother did to keep it so impeccable until now. He was silently kicking himself that this could’ve been part of his routine during the entire war. 

Kix stuck his lip out as he concentrated, having taken over as Rex kept messing up with the wax. “You don’t want to get too much on here. It just takes the smallest amount,” he explained, as he ripped a strip from between Rex’s eyebrows.

“Stang, Kix,” Rex hissed, a tear pricking in one of his eyes.

“Oops. Sorry, Captain,” the medic apologized, “I have some bacta as well if you need it.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted through clenched teeth, letting his brother continue on to his hairline. 

Rex had long drowned out Fives, (the only one of the men who might’ve ever actually gotten lucky on a night out at 79’s) as the man kept trying to figure out the pick-up line that got a drink poured on his head a year earlier. Rex squeezed his eyes every time Kix ripped a strip away and took his blonde hairs along with it, breathing slightly heavier and trying to tough it out.

The skin on his neck began to burn and he grew impatient, checking a chrono mounted on the wall, “Alright, are we quite finished here?”

“Yeah, I’d like to use the wax now,” Fives said, “Thorn just sent me a message saying the blue Twi’lek who wants me is out there.”

Kix sighed in defeat, “Fives, I told you last time that I don’t have enough wax for that.”

“Relax, I’m just going to touch up my goatee,” he assured, stroking his chin.

The medic handed over his little kit and Fives gave a girlish giggle, running with it into the stall beside the one Hardcase still occupied. Rex shivered, not being able to fathom waxing his bits like that. “He’s a madman,” he observed, his eyes wide.

Kix got out his medical pouch and shook his head, “Yeah. Tell me about it. Anyway, you’re all good to go. Get out there and talk to her. I’ll keep them wrangled in here the best I can and hopefully uninjured.”

“Thank you, Kix,” Rex nodded, rolling his shoulders and preparing to walk back out to finally catch up with Ahsoka. As he took the steps towards the exit, the amount of chaos behind him went unnoticed as the nerves began to surge within him yet again. The burn in his neck then crept up to the back of his head and he felt each individual hair be suddenly ripped up. All eyes in the refresher were on him as he slowly pivoted on his heel. He’d never witnessed a ‘fresher full of vode be so quiet, nor had he ever seen a clone so petrified.

Hardcase dropped a large strip of blonde hair and it fell to his feet in slow motion. The clone visibly paled and stumbled in his drunken haze back into his stall, spilling the contents of his stomach yet again. Fives’s mouth hung open and he scrambled to finish pulling up his blacks, “He— I dropped the kit and he just— Hold on ‘Case, I’ve got you!”

Jesse swallowed and attempted to disappear just by being still enough, knowing good and well they’d all feel the Captain’s wrath. It was just a matter of when. 

Tightening his jaw, Rex forced his muscles to relax and his fists to uncurl. There was a rage behind his eyes as he spoke, “I will deal with you all later. Kix, take care of this please.”

“Yes, sir,” his brother acknowledged, snapping to check in on both Hardcase and Fives.

Rex took a deep breath and finally exited the ‘fresher. He brought a hand up to the back of his head and, sure enough, a large chunk of his hair was missing in the perfect shape of a wax strip. The sensation of his fingertips on his bare skin took him by surprise and he realized he’d forgotten to put his gloves back on after he’d made a mess with the hot wax. 

But once Rex caught sight of the tips of Ahsoka’s montrals, all was forgotten but her. She was laughing and simply radiating with beauty as she conversed with Senator Chuchi. He made his way over, equipped with a lump in his throat, as he sat back down beside her. One arm naturally took hold of the back of the booth and he reminded himself to breathe now that his arm was essentially around her. Fives had better be right about that advice. 

Riyo turned to Fox and Ahsoka’s eyes turned to meet his own. Rex smiled with the twitch of his cheek, unable to conceal the way she made him feel. “Sorry I was out for a minute. Hardcase was having a rough time of it in there,” he apologized. 

“I was wondering when it was going to happen. All that mixing he was doing wouldn’t have made a very good appetizer for the table,” she joked, eyes sparkling. 

He shook his head, finally finding the humor of what had just played out back there. Shifting to turn more in her direction, he put his lips next to her montral again, “I was hoping to discuss the mission with you.”

Ahsoka gave him an amused look of confusion, “The mission? We’ve already submitted all the reports.”

“Well, it’s not exactly about the mission. It’s about after, or I guess it was there the whole time, but—”

His words were lost as the waitress droid finally showed up at the table again, a large tray of Tihaar orders and one very colorful frozen drink. Rex turned to reach out and accept the drinks, when the droid jerked to face him and clipped his face with Hardcase’s Meiloorun Sunrise. He grunted with the impact and Ahsoka darted to bring a hand up to his face, effectively bumping into the droid that shorted out and shut down, causing it to spill the drink entirely into his lap. 

She scrambled to her knees in the seat and searched the table for napkins. Rex took over the cradling of his head and clenched his teeth. Riyo handed her some spares and Ahsoka began her apologies, “Rex! Are you alright? She got you good didn’t she? Oh! I’m so sorry. Here.” She wiped the spilled drink up off of any piece of his armor that was supposed to be white. One hand was placed to his shoulder and the other ran the length of his front to get into every crevice. There were slices of meiloorun that threatened to slide off his thigh gauntlet and into the space between that and his codpiece. She acted quickly, sparing a hand to grab them and instead causing them to slip. 

“Ahsoka—” Rex tried, speaking her name breathily beside her montrals. 

He groaned above her and hissed. “I know! I’m trying,” she spoke loudly so that he could hear her. Kix emerged from the ‘fresher with the rest of their party in tow and she flagged him down, “Kix! I need your medic pouch!”

Another groan fell past his lips, “‘Soka, it’s okay, I can—”

“I know. Don’t worry, Kix is coming,” Ahsoka assured him, continuing to wipe up the mess she’d made, clearing the liquid off his codpiece and sparing one hand to fish for the lost fruit between his legs. In her flustered effort to grab the slippery meiloorun slices, her other hand kept at rubbing the napkins over his codpiece. 

“What in the blazes am I doing wrong? I gave him all my best moves and he gets this as a result? What did you do differently, Rex?”

Upon hearing Fives’s words, Ahsoka stilled her motions. She looked up at the men crowded around her and her mouth fell agape. A wide smile was splitting Jesse’s face and Fives didn’t look like he could be any more proud. Kix had his medic’s kit in hand but had yet to act. He was about as frozen and embarrassed as she was. Meanwhile, Hardcase took a seat at the booth to properly mourn the loss of his drink. 

Ahsoka swallowed and looked at Rex. His cheeks were tinted pink and his bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. Her mistake became clear as her fingers moved and he gave a soft whine, his codpiece noticeably tighter. “Oh. No. No, this isn’t— it’s not what it looks like,” she said, removing her now sticky fingers from Rex’s codpiece. 

“Commander, I think it’s exactly what it looks like. It looks like I’m a kriffing genius!” Fives exclaimed, all but patting himself on the back. He grabbed two glasses of Tihaar from the table and strode off to find the Twi’lek that Fox paid Thorn to say was into him. The Corrie guard chuckled darkly yet again. 

Pulling away from Rex, Ahsoka cleared her throat, “The waitress droid knocked him in the head with a glass.”

Kix nodded and assessed the Captain’s head, tapping the skin and developing a conclusion after only a few seconds, “She hit him pretty good, but by the looks of it, it’ll just be a nasty bruise.”

“So he’s alright?”

The medic laughed, “I don’t know about all that. But he’s uninjured.” With that, he wrangled up the men in blue and moved them to sit at the bar. 

Rex’s chest was rapidly moving up and down when Ahsoka felt brave enough to look at him again. He looked winded but had that half-smile on his face that made her so weak. She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, “You were trying to tell me that you could do it. Weren’t you?”

“Yeah… I think I could’ve managed it alone,” he laughed, “But I can’t say I have any complaints either.” Her embarrassment shifted and her eyes widened. He continued, “Do you remember what I wanted to talk about?”

She swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yes.”

Rex took one of her hands in his and dipped a clean napkin into his glass of water, using it to wipe the sticky drink from her fingers. He then repeated the action with the other hand. Ahsoka’s heart pounded in her chest during the entire thing, watching as Rex wet his lips in concentration. 

When he was done, he pulled her closer, their thighs touching once more, and brought her hand up to his face. Her thumb trembled as she bravely caressed his skin, feeling the stubble of his shaven beard for the first time. He smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to the digit, finding her eyes in doing so. A breath was hitched in her throat with the action and she leaned a fraction closer. Rex did the same and she gave him an urgent nod, giving her full permission. 

He placed his own hand under her jaw, grazing her lek and making her gasp into his mouth as they meet in a kiss. His mouth is gentle yet passionate, tasting of mint rather than alcohol. They find a rhythm and Rex swipes his tongue over her bottom lip, swallowing the sweet sounds the sensation pulled from her. Ahsoka allows him entry and feels his other hand wrap around her waist and pull, causing her to place hers behind his neck to maintain stability. Her head was spinning too fast to call on the Force for assistance. 

Ahsoka’s fingers ran over his short, buzzed hairs, unable to stop herself from beginning to memorize an entirely new and foreign part of him. She then reached the back of his hand and stopped rather abruptly, her fingers feeling around to confirm. She opened her eyes and her lips stilled, prompting Rex to do the same. 

“Rex?” 

He hummed in response, holding her waist tighter and getting drunk just off of her alone. 

“Why are you missing a patch of hair in the shape of a perfect rectangle?”

[purble-gaymer]

just because you are the beloved meta knight moot and i'm really sleepy i'm going to rant about metadad for a little while because it's hard to find people who think metadad can kind of be a double edged sword (haha sword pun). or just care about this in general.

imo metadad is really good and i like it. i think it's a fun concept to toy with and there's some evidence to back it up (ie: face reveal, that really cute itsudemo kirby book, sakurai and ohmoto's comments about his relationship with kirby).

here's the thing that really gets to me though. metadad falls into "soft father figure in a nuclear family unit" so so so so so much. which is so weird, because the dream team isn't a soft nuclear family at all! these people all have very similar skill + competence levels, and they're constantly physically fighting each other. this is like, a constant rivalry thing. these are people that deeply care about each other but aren't constantly babying each other.

like, metadad. i said there was evidence, and there is. and it's a cute concept! i like the idea of mk seeing kirby as a son! i like the idea that they can be soft and tender and loving with each other! but meta knight is like, notoriously irresponsible, and kirby can handle himself on his own. he doesn't need to be a responsible dad type, nor does he need to handle all of kirby's problems. this carries over to animeverse, even. it just feels like we're skipping the whole "rivarly" and "violence" and "similar power level" to have the cutesy dad stuff exclusively. maybe. maybe i can see it in animeverse. but it's circumstantial. it's really circumstantial. yeah. i should be writing.

yes yes yes. these four go through a ton together and boiling their dynamic down to something so strictly familiar feels…demeaning.

i’ve mentioned before that i sprinkle a bit of metadad into my work. it’s fun, like you say, and it makes sense with how they support each other and are always trying to help the other improve. the dream team works together in a way that is easy to read as a family. but, mostly i do it in a mentor-student way more so than father-son. i’ve grown fond of the ‘mk raised sailor dee’ headcanon lately, and even then he isn’t really a father type. he’s still more a mentor and a friend than anything else.

mk gets softened a lot. like, more than he would realistically be. i love getting to see him lower his guard and be vulnerable for once, hell one look at any of my knights-related work is enough to know that, but he has a limit. he’s still a powerful warrior with years of experiences weighing on him. we don’t know much about his history in the game-verse, but there’s probably something hidden away in the memory vault. he’s mature in a way many kirby characters aren’t.

and that’s not to say someone like kirby himself isn’t mature. he is, in his own way. he’s younger, is all, but he’s not a baby. he’s been through his own struggles and has learned from them. he’s grown and changed since dreamland 1 and adventure, and that’s a conversation for a different night with how much i have to say about it. even in the anime i feel like the descriptor of “he cannot speak, he can hardly think” is much too harsh (and i should point out, meta knight is the one who says this! he’s war-hardened and difficult to impress, and over the course of the show he grows to understand that just because kirby is young doesn’t mean he can’t conquer challenges the knight may see as impossible).

sometimes their actions can be read as friends, sometimes as rivals, sometimes as father-son. they are multi-layered, complex characters with an incredibly strong bond. there is so much more to these two, and dedede and bandee as well, than “soft happy family living domestically in dreamland.” domestic isn’t even in their vocabulary. they just are, and they’re just doing whatever they want, because that’s what you do when you have people you trust to such a degree. they’re whatever they are in the moment and it’s great. such a developed dynamic should be explored, not ignored. these four have limitless potential in the ways that they interact.

compare adventure and super star to robobot and triple deluxe, to forgotten land, to return to dreamland and star allies. you can tell just how much love has been poured into these characters, and how much love they have for each other. they go to hell and back and they always do it as a team.

[felis-artis]

Official Arc 1 Playlist

It will be full of The Mechanisms, I know that for sure. Try to decontextualize those songs if you know the stories. They are silly cats now.

I will put every song below. I will use links on Youtube (to have access to archived videos, not on Spotify) but if you want to port any of this into a music-playing site or app, be my guest. I'll add it to the post if you do!

Version: 1.1 Last Update: June 7th, 2024

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1 -> Stranger (The Mechanisms)

Oh, my love, what madness can this be (Why did you come here?) In your place a monster I do see (I warned you not to look) You don't understand I had to keep my nature secret This was never planned You were never meant to know

This song is so Crowtongue and Wildfire to me. Minus the "love" portion. I might actually animate a portion of this song to them, if I had the time or money to spare.

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2 -> Nothing Critical (Cloudeater)

Oh my we forgot to smile Guns are drawn, now my lawn's a wreck I know, someone had to go If not him it'd be me instead

Crowtongue and Wildfire. Enough said.

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3 -> Willard! (Will Wood)

Never learned how I should feel, instincts somehow stunted Just seem haunted by my stupid urge to protect Until frustration makes me wish my teeth were sharp as yours Chew through their garage doors They'll call me crazy but their words all seem made up to me Maybe they just need more friendship like yours

Its not a playlist of mine without a good song from In Case I Die. It's too good an album. Anyways, this is so Cloudnose that it hurts. I love his character.

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4 -> Alarm Call (The Correspondents)

Where have you gone? I am calling on you Your alarm call's on and I'm coming to your rescue I know exactly what to do I make the call and sit by you Check your heartbeat against mine But there's no trace of it this time

Goldenflower and Wildfire. I love them so much. A good mother-son relationship, layered with a million feelings and filtered through such a simplistic lens, it breaks. I would animate this, but I don't have any time.

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5 -> Fading Kitten Syndrome (Roar)

Carry me in your teeth with tender jaws of sympathy (Arrow deep inside the meat Impossible for us to reach)

Wildfire's kits. When your father is a symbol for the start of the end, its hard to detach yourself from that symbolism.

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6 -> Reduced to Guts (Vivivivivi)

This song reeks of Timberstrike. I can't explain it, it just is. Every breath he breathes is filled with lies at the end, and he hates himself for it. He loves it though, he's practically intoxicated by its power.

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7 -> He'll Use ... Show / Dr. Sunshine is Dead (Will Wood)

Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see? I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between

This specific recording has the exact vibes I need for Sagewhisker, the Seer for Arc 1. She doesn't have a big appearance, but she has a large enough one that it matters. Also, Mario Conte is THE drummer of all time.

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8 -> SCAPEG(8)AT (Ghost and Pals)

Now do you hate me? Are you afraid of me? Are you able to feel culpability? Come forth and kill me Bow down and worship me Take your time, all we have is eternity Now with a new start Broken and torn apart Nothing in me resembles a human heart My name is unknown Something I've never told On my own, I declare "I don't wanna go home"

Crowstar and Timberstar. Their dynamic is important to me in a way that most people's cars are important to them. I love their dynamic, hate their ideology, and adore how they grow as characters. Beating them with hammers.

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9 -> She Knows My Name (The Family Crest)

Well they hurt me to the bones Oh, they weigh me down like stones, ohhh Here, in the evening, My words are deceiving and cold And oh, with a wonder, Our hearts torn asunder it shows That her love was just an excuse to be loved So it's not that bad when she goes

Wildfire and Sandstorm. I read the song as a declaration of time passing. They aren't in love anymore, but they still love in their own ways. That in itself is beautiful, so I had to put it on the playlist.

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10 -> Hansel (Sodikken)

A hot spring with its waters frozen over By your cold mentality If it's greif you need Here, take my spleen I'm gonna bleed all over the floor And more until you remember me

I can't place my finger on it at the moment, but this song reeks of... the Arc 1 vibe. I'll come back and edit this song's snippet later once it finally hits me, but first, enjoy the music.

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11 -> Gretel (Sodikken)

With red gloves, all you touch All you touch will get marked up I in fact, in light of this, Became your painting canvas

I can't include Hansel without it's sister song, Gretel. This one is in the same camp of Hansel's "vibe" and such.

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12 -> Blossoms (The Amazing Devil)

And I stare at the soldiers before me All my blossoms that have waited to fall And I walk, and I walk And I walk, and I walk Knowing every last one of them is painted in light As I make myself acquainted with the saint of never getting it right - My dress is on fire and I hurl myself, I heal myself I drag myself like a rug in the rain And my saint, she is dancing And every step I choose to take begins to set the world aflame

Crowstar and Smokestripe. Enough said.

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13 -> Worms (Viagra Boys)

You'll turn into dirt someday, same dirt as me Like one becomes a two and a two becomes a three The same worms that eat me will someday eat you too

Timberstar, Crowstar, and Wildfire. It's the strong vocals and harsh buzzing that push this in my mind. They are decomposing and they will all eventually serve the same ecological purpose. However, politically, they are all so vastly different.

14 -> Edward (American Murder Party)

Tell not thorn nor lie Speak to me o murder child Trouble's in your eye Speak to me o murder child You bite the hand that feeds and crow So count here naked in the snow Tell not thorn nor lie Speak to me o murder child - After the spring you shall find him After the snow leaves the hill After the spring you shall find him 'Til then there's no grave to fill

Shatteredbone's relationship with his siblings. Enough said.

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More to be added at a later date!

[scalproie]

FINAL(?) THOUGHTS ON MK12

the story in general: enjoyable if you take it as face-value and dont dig deeper than the surface level, also if you dont have any passionate attachments to what came before.

the earthrealm champions storyline: genuinely liked it. Kung Lao/Raiden/Johnny/Kenshi's introduction and characterization were strong enough to carry them through the story. It was pretty easy to fill the gaps between timeskips and the dynamics were enjoyable

the outworld storyline: lots of players in this one but having a clear villain (shang) that ties everyone's motivation together makes it easy to follow. Overall I did like it.

the lin kuei storyline: as per usual, its isolated from everything else, but it's given NO screentime to actually develop, and even seem like an afterthought. I'd even dare say that with a little tweaking, you could remove them completely and the story would be no different. The only thing accomplished here is making explaining who the characters are harder than necessary, and I swear if I see one more person with vague knowledge of what theyre talking about trying to explain them to people who know even less and getting it absurdly wrong because of this game, I'm going to lose it. By far my biggest disappointment.

The timelines shenanigans: in a weird limbo where it's simultaneously too much focused on and not touched on enough. It felt like it was here for spectacle rather than smth they genuinely wanted to explore, but then again we have one interactions thats kinda sweet and satisfying. Overall, the entire story revolves around this so its pretty solid? but I also did not quite like it on a fundamental level. So it was... whatever.

INDIVIDUAL CHARACTERS:

Liu Kang: the closest thing we have to a clear protagonist, as he ties everyone together, which is fitting for his role both out and in-universe. I dont mind him even tho he is definitely flawed as its impossible to write a character with that much control as 100% good (we wouldnt have a game otherwise). Think he shouldve kept the white god hair tho.

Raiden: his role being switched with liu kang's was expected and the logical following of their storyline in mk11, I am more than fine with that. Raiden feels like himself in a different circumstance. I sure do wish his electricity was inherent to him and not the product of an amulet tho, I have no idea why this change was made. I did like him overall.

Kung Lao: Kung Lao is consistent in his characterization and this familiarity made me like him even more than usual. He gets really sidelined early on but I know the chapter system is to blame for that. There is a lot of cute moments involving him.

Johnny Cage: god, the writers fucking ADORE him do they? As one of mk's sole comic relief characters, I get he is the only one able to deliver a bit of comedy to the mix but fucking hell they almost abuse him in that regard. BUT they also give him a shocking lot of nuance too? The scene with his future ex-wife and everything involving kenshi? He gets a LOT of screentime and development and he is nothing BUT characterization, hence why, as someone who doesnt care that much about him, at one point it starts to feel really fucking unfair. Johnny is fine but I have to check myself because if I get too much exposure to him (which is inevitable) he genuinely starts to piss me off so fucking bad

Kenshi: he's fine. Kenshi here, like Johnny, is a character that isnt tied to anyone else, so the both of them having a joined development thats resolved in this very game is pretty good. I dont have a lot of things to say about Kenshi, he complete his arc and gets his job done in the narrative.

Geras: Geras has only been in one game prior so he does not have overwhelming expectations weighing him down. I really liked him here, his relationship with Liu Kang really does both of them favor.

Sub Zero: Bi-han fit the antagonistic role he was given well enough. Sadly it comes at the price of his already feeble reputation of an originally neutral character. But even when I lower my expectations, here he is given no nuance and no room for growth, not in a satisfying way anyway, as things are right now. The "depth" (read: one or two lines) he is given feels more like inconsistence on the writers' part than him having complex feelings. As usual, he COULD have been great, but he isnt. I'm really disappointed.

Scorpion: Utterly Unrecognizable. He is not fully Kuai Liang on account of being Scorpion, and he is not fully Scorpion on account of being Kuai Liang. This isnt a character, this is a checklist: 1) get the scar (Kuai Liang part) ✅️ 2) be shirai ryu (Scorpion part) ✅️. He is the only character to be given this treatment, or at the very least, the only one where its THAT noticeable because he is made of arguably the most popular characters of mk. We are missing CRITICAL parts of his and his brother's characters to make us care (his motivation comes from an unknown and unseen dead father that never existed before and such a massive big deal is never given development or focus, despite being all they're talking about), their entire storyline rely on nothing other than the HIGHLY popular rivalry between "Scorpion" and "Sub zero". No love and care was brought to his character, nor his brothers', nor his storyline.

Smoke: Smoke... sure as hell was there. Personal thoughts: but the more time passes the more I Do Not Like his characterization. He is written no longer as an equal to Kuai Liang but as what I can best describe as a sidekick, even moreso than usual thanks to him being written and played as younger than the brothers. Yet another thing I dont like about the Lin Kuei storylike. Literally miss (bi-han) after miss (kuai liang) after miss (smoke) for me. They're out.

Hanzo: genuinely ask yourself. Are you happy that hanzo is here? His presence in mk12 is the same as nrs holding up a cardboard picture of him so people wont be mad that he's absent. Everything that he had has been given to "scorpion" aka kuai. He cannot be important because he is young. And when we get a timeskip of him being finally being older then what? The only thing people want of him is dying and coming back as an angry wraith? That's all he is and will be? I'd rather have no Hanzo at all rather than him being stripped of what made him him and used in an unsatisfying way.

Harumi: Harumi went from being the wife of Hanzo Hasashi that dies to being the prize of Scorpion's character. She is finally given development but said development is so confined to the game she's in that it doesnt even matter to me, adding to the fact that they're going in a direction I find boring (to my tastes) with her.

Kitana: she was also there. Which is surprising because kitana always felt like... the protagonist when outworld was involved? While I understand her role, I personally am not that fond of her being relegated to a supporting character.

Mileena: she is an entirely new character with mileena as a basis. I think her story has holes but on the surface it gets the job done. She is definitely one of the more focused on character all the way til she gets her own chapter to conclude her arc, and she has plenty of relationships to bounce off of, so she's definitely one of the more rounded characters here. I dont mind her, but I cant hide personal pettiness that her popularity mightve been the reason why she's so important.

Sindel: I genuinely DID like sindel but I look at her and in the back of my mind there is always the devs' voices going "sorry sorry sorry". Still, I liked her. I liked her death also! It made sense and, while I think it couldve been done MUCH MORE EMOTIONALLY, Im fairly okay with the way it was done. Idk if her being a flawed leader is completely a feature or a bug but I did like it!

Li Mei: I literally did not care that much about li mei until the revelation that she and sindel used to be friends, and then a lot of things clicked together, so I would say THIS was good. Other than that, li mei is whatever to me.

Reptile: one of my main issue with him just boils down to him being hot. I do not mind him having one big monstery form and one human form, but the two are clearly not treated equally, and yeah yeah I know its easier with a human model or whatever BUT LITERALLY BARAKA EXIST. So him being "good looking" 75% of the time with sad backstory and an IMMEDIATE nice an easy going personality (even tho imo he should maybe be a bit angry and grieving that his fucking family died in the living forest until at least his own chapter) = the writers trying too hard for me to give him my sympathy. And I dont like being forced. Aka reptile lost most of his edge with me, it's like hes trying so hard to be likable he has no flaws and so he annoys me a bit in return. But I still like him. I SHOULD love him, so much even, but when I try there is always smth bugging me. I want him to be more fucked up, and no, eating a bug once (1) doesnt count, its what should be NORMAL for him.

Tanya: she's so weird to me. Tanya is mk12 is like, if she was from a mirror universe where she was the good version of an evil jade, if you get what I mean? She's not tanya in almost every way, yknow? Also, usually if you think the writing staff do anything with shipping in mind, you're reading too much into it, and shipping itself is not smth that's seen with respect... BUT THAT BEING SAID I genuinely wonder: if tanya/mileena had never been a thing, would they still had picked tanya for this role, or would they simply just have picked jade.

Rain: to fully appreciate rain you have to hunt down everything involving him in mk12, cutscenes in storymode, endings, intros... my man literally has SO little. But. What he has is literally so inoffensive to me, I actually quite like this rain a lot. He has his own thing going on and I like the direction it took!

Baraka: his inclusion feels like mileena's story was thought of first, and baraka's was built all around it to support it. No, I still dont like the tarkatans being a leprosy allegory now, and no, the new identity Baraka has doesnt do anything for me even if (or because) it was made completely out of nowhere for the purpose of mk12. People dont want SOME characters to suffer (even tho it makes for an interesting story), but when baraka is reworked into doing nothing but suffering, nobody bat an eye because he is no one's favorite. Also he is severely underused in story mode, where he could give us more insight on tarkat and the flaws of the regime, but doesnt. He also helps the earthrealmers out of the kindness of his heart but it really does feel a bit forced, especially when intros show he is not actually that kind in general. Still, just like reptile, I liked baraka.

Shao: funnily enough shao is given interesting depths in this story, but because shao has been an absolute fucking bastard in his 30 years of existence, nobody seems to notice or care. But I Do, despite myself I notice and care about whatever weird thing shao has got going on this time around. I know he has to be a lil bit problematic in there if I dig a little but nothing BIG on the surface so far??? And its the addition of MISGUIDED BUT NOBLE GOALS in shao that were previously non-existent thats so fucking weird to me. I'm literally looking at him under the microscope.

Reiko: Jobber Supreme. Reiko was funny. He is carried by his relationship to shao but it could legit be interesting so yknow what Im gonna let this silly fucking guy entertain me. What can I say, I like when villains have positive interactions and relationships.

Shang Tsung: Shang Tsung (both of them) was funny af. 10/10 no notes. Extremely entertaining. No fucking redeeming qualities. Critical amount of Kunt being served here. Evil and having fun about it. Caught being stupid in 4k by his own self. His plan(s) was pretty straightforward and I can appreciate that. I have nothing bad to say about Shang.

Quan chi: Quan chi was there to make funny faces and be mean gays with Shang Tsung. I dont mind him. Him being an outworlder and "turning white" is not smth I enjoy much tho, whats wrong with him being tied completely to the netherrealm?

Ermac: his design is something you eventually get used to. But as soon as you do he fucking get That Face. I swear I almost end up hating Jerrod in spite because of how they used Ermac. I cant deny it technically makes sense why they wouldve used him like that but I cant help it, I Did Not Like It. didnt liked it in mk9, dont like it now. I think I wouldve liked more the idea of Ermac being influenced by Jerrod rather than him being downright possessed by him. My opinion was much more scathing before the leaks but I have since calmed down a bit. But Ermac gets treated so badly in this game, he actually gets all my sympathy and more, compared to other characters.

Ashrah: Ashrah is okay. I like what she adds to the earthrealm team (and god know they needed her bc damn this was the no girls allowed club before she showed up) but I'm not sure I would enjoy her on her own without someone to bounce off of. Because she also was a character whole neutrality got removed to make her a fully good-aligned character. One thing that really endeared me to her tho was her "I've never had a home before!" line and the genuine happiness she showed there, I wish this part of her had been more explored. And she is also one of the characters that gets a lot more fleshed out in the intros to me. But still, like I said, Ashrah was okay.

Nitara: yeah the megan fox voice acting is objectively bad but it could also be way worse. I know its different bc this one is just an optional skin and not the character's actual voice but fucking listen to JCVD's voice acting. As for nitara, Im really sorry but it feels like she is just here to fill a niche, and said niche being "fanservice". So i'm really sorry for people who like her but yeah she is outshined by her VA and the "well she is a 3d era character that hasnt been shown for awhile so lets bring her back for the people" sentiment. As for her role in the story, I know we need jobbers but she is so isolated from everything they could remove her and it wouldnt change anything. Her personal motivation is not even given the time of day even tho it's the ONLY thing she has, so yeah Im having a hard time to care. Which is sad.

Havik: as soon as I saw his bio I knew he was going to be done dirty, the trailer he showed up in implied it but him having such a sympathetic backstory all but confirmed they were gonna go the "guy with good reasons to change the system fucking take it too far so you cant endorse him" trope with him. Everything with him seems a bit random (which is ironic considering he is mr. chaos) like, why is scorpion the one to give him his iconic open jaw look? (It also cements scorpion as the checklist character ngl). Anyway I do understand the reason for his inclusion as well as the story needing jobbers, doesnt change that I still think he's whatever tho.

[martyrmurdock]

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄

♡ note: hi, this is inspired by that one quote where it goes “if you're raised with an angry man in your house, / there will always be an angry man in your house. / you will find him even when he is not there.” this fic isn’t directly related to the quote, but i hope u enjoy :]

♡ pairing: foggy nelson, frank castle, karen page, matt murdock & gn reader

♡ word count: 3k

♡ tags: angst; hurt/comfort; au where frank, matt, foggy, karen, and reader are in a friend group; platonic relationships / friendships; arguments; yelling; reader does not do well with people yelling at all; reader has an adverse reaction to frank and matt arguing and feels really bad about it; matt calls reader sweetheart

Frank and Matt are arguing. Again. Normally, these occasions aren’t too bad. Normally, it’s just a disagreement they partake in or a bit of banter. The duo are much friendlier now- perhaps, even friends, although neither one would ever say so. They’re each too prideful for that. 

The pair frequently rib into each other and trade barbs- it’s simply how their dynamic works-, but today, it’s different. Today is a day like before. Before when there was only pure dislike and unfettered animosity between them, and they’d exchange blows that aimed to bruise instead of words that aimed to rile up the other. 

They’ve gotten into their fair share of arguments, but those squabbles always ended before they could get too ugly. Either Foggy, Karen, or you would deescalate the situation by redirecting the conversation towards a different topic or Matt and Frank would stop talking mid-argument and leave, taking time to cool off before returning back to the group gathering with a more level head.

It’s never been this bad.

Truthfully, you don’t even know how it got to this point, ignorant to what sparked this particular argument. All you know is that the situation has gotten wildly out of hand, escalating so quickly before your very eyes that you can hardly wrap your head around what’s currently happening. 

Standing toe-to-toe in the middle of Matt’s living room, Matt and Frank look like they’re seconds away from engaging in an all out brawl.

“Back off, Red,” Frank says in a low, dangerous tone that sends a shiver down your spine and makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. You’ve never heard Frank sound like this before, his tone so dark and threatening, and you know that the man standing before you now is the man that strikes fear into the heart of others as the Punisher.

Off to the side of the main room of Matt’s apartment, you stand between Karen and Foggy as you all fruitlessly attempt to get Matt and Frank to knock it off. Unconsciously, you scoot closer to Foggy, instinctively seeking the comfort of your dear friend. The blond notices the subtle movement out of the corner of his eyes and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” He whispers into your ear, without looking at you. His blue eyes stay trained on Matt and Frank, unwilling to allow his gaze to stray for even a moment- unsure of what may happen if he does so.

You take a deep breath in, trying to calm the racing of your heart before shakily exhaling out. “I’m alright, Fog,” you lie. You are definitely not alright, but you don’t wish to weigh down your friend with your silly worries, especially not when there are more pressing matters at hand like stopping your other friends from physically tearing into each other. “I just don’t like seeing them argue,” you admit, which is true. You hate watching two of the people you love most in this world spew such hateful words at each other. It hurts.

“Me neither,” Foggy sighs, sounding impossibly tired for a brief moment. For some reason, it makes you feel guilty. You’re not the only one who dislikes when Matt and Frank fight (you know for a fact that neither Foggy or Karen enjoy their verbal collisions), but you feel like you take it harder than them, and that idea makes you feel bad.  

Foggy squeezes your shoulder before letting his hand drop back down to rest by his side, and you find it easier to breathe, even if it’s just ever so slight.

The sound of Matt raising his voice startles you from your thoughts. Your breath hitches and your chest tightens uncomfortably when Frank’s voice rises to match Matt’s in volume.

You don’t who it is that begins to all out shout- whether it’s Matt or Frank-, but it doesn’t matter. The drastic change in volume makes you instinctively flinch. Hard. The action goes unnoticed by the two yelling (they’re much too engrossed in their verbal clashing to pay you any mind), but not by the two by your side. They exchange glances, looking at you in between them before looking at each other. They don’t need words to communicate what they’re thinking.

Your head swims- the loud angry voices of your loved ones amplified in the depths of your mind. You’re so lost in thought that you jump in place when Karen places a careful hand on your arm to garner your attention. Her expression softens when she sees how you react.

“Hey, do you want to hang somewhere else while Foggy and I sort this out?” Karen quietly asks, barely audible over Matt and Frank’s overlapping voices. Karen’s voice is gentle and kind and completely unlike the sharp and scathing tones of your friends, who are locked in their heated stand off just a few feet away. With the hand clasped around your arm, she rubs small comforting circles into your skin.

You want to deny her suggestion, to assure her that you’re okay, but when you open your mouth to respond to Karen, the words get stuck in your throat. How frustrating. You close your mouth, pressing your lips tightly together, and roughly swallow- trying to dislodge them. You’re ready to lie to Karen, even if the assurance will taste acrid on your tongue, but a roaring yell- louder than anything you’ve heard so far- makes you change your mind.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be on the roof,” you stutter out. If you could think more clearly, you’d feel embarrassed for tripping over your words, but all you could think about in this moment was getting as far as you could from the yelling.

Karen gives you the most comforting smile she can muster, but it’s strained around the edges. “I’ll go up and get you when this is dealt with,” she promises. Before you can leave, flee as far as you can from the scene, Karen squeezes your arm and gives you a look. “If you need me for any reason, call me.”

Despite your current state, the corner of your lips curls up into something that almost resembles a smile. You’re thankful to have a friend like Karen in your life. “I will, Kare,” you place your hand over the one she has on your arm, “Promise.”

Satisfied with your reply, Karen releases her easy grip on you, allowing you to book it towards Matt’s front door. As soon as you’re out the door, out of the apartment, you immediately make your way to the staircase that leads to the rooftop. 

A sense of urgency overcomes you as if something truly terrible will happen if you don’t make it to the roof in time, even if there is no time limit, no countdown. The arguing, the senseless yelling, has jumbled your thoughts, leaving you feel discombobulated. You cannot shake off your irrationality, cannot even see that you are being irrational. You increase your stride, skipping over every other step as you run up them as fast as you can without tripping over your feet and falling flat on your face.

"Why is this so damn heavy?” you mumble to yourself once you make it to the top of the staircase, grunting as you push your shoulder against the rooftop access door. You push and push and stumble, nearly falling over when the door suddenly flings open beneath your weight. You’re quick to stabilize yourself on your feet, almost tripping over nothing when when the door loudly slams behind you, effectively startling you.

On shaky legs, you speed walk over to the edge of the roof, curling your hands around the concrete barrier meant to prevent one from falling off the building and tumbling down to meet their untimely end. Loose gravel digs into your palm, biting into the skin as you tighten your grip. It hurts, but the pain is minimal. So minimal, in fact that you could easily ignore it, but instead, you focus on it. The slight pain forces you into the moment, grounding you into the present. Just like how the brisk air on your face is cold, stealing your body’s warmth the longer you stand out in the open, but it still feels good because you can feel it.

You take a few deep breaths- inhaling in, holding your breath, and exhaling out before repeating the cycle. You do it over and over again until your brain feels less foggy, and you can actually think relatively clearly.

A tsunami tide of shame and embarrassment crashes over you as you think about how you reacted to Matt and Frank arguing. It was stupid of you to get so worked up over it. Utterly unreasonable of you. You may not like it when people raise their voices and shout, but you’re not sure there’s anybody who does like it. You didn’t have to run off like a scared little kid just because Matt and Frank raised their voices. You weren’t even on the receiving end of their yelling for crying out loud. Your reaction speaks volumes of how truly pathetic you are.

The sound of the door to the rooftop swinging open immediately makes you tense up, jolting you from your downward spiral of self-pity. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, expecting to see Karen, who’s presumably come to get you, but to your surprise, you see Matt and Frank.

The tension in your body doesn’t dissipate as it normally would when you're greeted with the sight of two of your dearest friends. Instead, you go even more rigid, your body wound up even tighter than before as the pair come closer to you. You can still recall the sound of them of screaming, how rough and venomous their voices sounded as they spat vitriol at each other. The memory bounces around in your mind like a pinball machine.

Frank’s dark eyes stay trained on you, scanning your face and body as he observes your facial expression and body language. One glance at you is all it takes for him to stop in his footsteps, digging the heels of his black combat boots into the dusty ground, and hold out an arm to prevent Matt from approaching you any further.

Matt opens his mouth- ready to protest-, but when Frank whispers for him to listen in that gruff tone of his, the brunet presses his lips together and inclines his head towards you, listening to the roaring of your pulse and the swift beating of your heart in your chest. Matt holds his hands up, palms facing you as if he’s placating a cornered animal.

“Sweetheart,” Matt softly says, his tone completely different than it was when he was arguing with Frank, “Is it okay for us to come closer?”

You turn your body around, away from the concrete ledge, to face them. Your lips part to reply, but nothing comes out as you hesitate.

“You can say no.” Your eyes dart from Matt’s face to Frank’s. His previously hard expression softens when your eyes meet his. “It’s alright if you want us to stay over here.”

“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head. “You can…you can come closer,” you say, but the words are unsteady on your tongue, coming out as clumsy, as if you’re unsure of them.

A furrow forms between Matt’s brows, but he chooses to listen to you, taking slow steps towards you. Frank follows his lead, broadcasting his movements so as to not startle you in any way. They both stop a good few feet away from you, not keen on pushing your limits.

“Where are Foggy and Karen?” you ask after a lapse of awkward silence falls over you three.

“They’re inside the apartment,” Matt quickly answers. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip. “Do you want them here?” The instead tacked on the end of that question goes unsaid but you can still hear it.

“No,” you rush out, making Frank raise a brow at you. You heat up under his gaze and avert your eyes away from duo to look out at the skyline. Looking out at the cityscape is safe. You can’t embarrass yourself that way. You clear your throat. “No, it’s alright.”

You may be shaken up from what happened earlier, but you’re not afraid of the men standing in front of you. The shouting frightened you, yes, you’ll admit it, but not them. Never them. You know that neither Frank nor Matt would ever hurt you. You want to make sure that they know you know that.

The familiar sound of your name rolling off of Frank’s tongue reaches your ears. “Would you look at me for a moment?”

You peel your eyes from the dreary but comforting view from Matt’s corner of Hell’s Kitchen and shift your gaze onto Frank’s face. His expression is tight. Below his set of dark brows, which are slightly pinched together, his eyes are narrowed at you in a way that makes you feel small. The corners of his lips dip downward, marking his face with a frown.

Frank stares at you, analyzing you like you’re a specimen beneath a microscope. You release the breath you were unknowingly withholding when the hard edges of his face smoothens out, the tight set of his jaw disappearing.

“‘M sorry,” Frank says, gruff but earnest. Your eyes widen at the sudden apology falling from Frank’s lips. “For uh for scaring you like that. Red and I got so caught up in our shit that we didn’t realize we were making you feel bad.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you blurt out, panicky. Frank gives you a skeptical look, clearly not believing you. Meanwhile, Matt’s brows rise up to his hairline, shocked that your heartbeat indicates you’re telling the truth. “The yelling freaked me out, but you guys specifically didn’t scare me,” you clarify, “I could never be afraid of you guys. It could have been anyone yelling, I would have reacted in the same way,” you ramble, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists to release your nervous energy.

“Then, we’re sorry for yelling, sweetheart,” Matt gently says, kindly cutting you off in the midst of your anxious babbling. “Frank and I are adults. We should have handled our,” Matt pauses, searching for the right term to describe their verbal (almost physical) altercation, “disagreement in a more mature manner.”

“I’m sorry too.” You rub the back of your neck when both Matt and Frank turn their head toward you, matching expressions of confusion on their faces. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that. It was dumb of me to get all worked up just because you guys raised your voices,” you let your head drop as you laugh. The sound is hollow and full of self-deprecation. “It was stupid of me,” you bitterly say, staring holes into the ground.

“Don’t say that.” The firmness of Frank’s voice makes you jerk your head up. His eyes are hard, but not unkind when you meet his unwavering gaze. “Wasn’t stupid or dumb of you to react like that, so don’t say it was.”

The harshness of his tone makes you shrink slightly, even if you know that Frank isn’t upset with you.

“What Frank is trying to say,” Matt turns his head towards Frank, brows furrowed in blatant displeasure at the man’s less-than-gentle tone. “Is that you have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You shouldn’t feel bad for reacting in a completely valid way.”

“Okay,” you say in a small voice. You don’t quite believe Frank and Matt, but you don’t want to argue with them. You’ve had more than enough of arguing for today.

“Okay,” Matt repeats, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. He knows you don’t believe them, but he won’t push the matter. Not right now. Maybe later, at a more appropriate time, Matt will talk to you about it, but you don’t need him pressing you about it right now. 

“Do you want to go back down to the apartment now” He angles his head towards the door on the roof that connects to his apartment, questioning. “Or stay up on the roof?” 

Your eyes drift from Matt and Frank to the city’s skyline. The day has passed you by, quicker than you realized, because the sun is setting beneath the horizon already, washing the sky in a melody of red and orange hues.

You turn to press your front against the concrete barrier and stare out at the horizon.

“Can we stay out here? Just for a little while longer,” you quietly ask, your words tinged with a plea as if Frank or Matt would deny your request.

“Course, we can.” Frank takes a slow step towards you, closely watching you for any indication that you’re uncomfortable with the decrease in distance between you. When he finds nothing, he takes a few more steps until he’s by your side. Matt trails after Frank, taking his place on the other side of you.

Both of them are close enough that you can feel the body heat radiating off of them, but far enough away to not crowd or overwhelm you. It makes you smile, how considerate of you they are. You’re lucky to have friends like them in your life.

Gently, you lean to the side to brush your upper arm against Matt’s before doing the same to Frank. I forgive you, the action silently says.

Matt shifts slightly until he is so near to you that his arm is flush against yours. Warmth emanates from his body, making you sigh in contentment. On the other side of you, Frank shuffles, moving closer to you as well. His shoulder gently knocks into you, prompting you to lean against him. Thank you, they soundlessly reply, we are undeserving of your forgiveness.

You sag against Frank, your body going lax as you let your head fall and rest against his shoulder. Your knuckles brush against Matt’s, the touch feathery-light before he gently slips his hand into yours. The tension in your frame finally unravels like a spool of loose thread, and you feel like you can breathe properly now that you’re comfortably sandwiched between two of the most important people in your life.

[cancerjupiter]

💨 air moons💨

If the Moon is in Gemini, Libra, or Aquarius, one adjusts oneself to the inflow of life experience by first assuming an intellectual detachment to assess things objectively through logic, or to test what is at hand using familiar concepts or theories. This tendency can of course lead to too much analysis, and a lack of clear decisiveness; but the potential for constructive and intelligent forethought can be valuable, and it is a quality often lacking in those with Water or Fire Moons.

gemini moon

If you multiply the fluctuations of the constantly changing Moon by the eternal changeability of Gemini, you arrive at some inkling of this Moon sign. It is the very opposite of stable and predictable. The strength of Gemini Moon is the quickness with which they react to input and to other people, and the rapid connections they can make with many ideas and possibilities. They adapt quickly to changes and their perceptions are often intriguing, motivated as they are by endless curiosity. In fact, they constantly need a variety of mental stimuli to keep them feeling alive and developing. The major problem for these folks, and for those who try to relate to them intimately, is that they never seem to know who they are for very long. They scatter their sense of identity and inner security along with their diffuse concentration. Emotions are a rather foreign territory for those with Gemini Moon and somewhat baffling for their illogical and fluctuating nature. They therefore need to communicate verbally about their emotional life to find some mental clarity about their irrational and changeable feelings (although sometimes talking endlessly and tiresomely with no resulting clarity). In short, they need to verbalize their emotions in order to feel connected with them. And, in close relationships, these glib and flirtatious individuals often continually experiment with their feelings, first expressing one thing and then another—to the profound dismay and frustration of their would-be partner—as if their chronic inconsistency and changeability have no impact on the other person.

This Moon sign is perhaps more averse to commitment than any other, and their emotional superficiality does not help the situation. There is a pitiful lack of touch with the subconscious, and although there is endless logical analysis of motives and rational examination, there is no change. This is only one manifestation of the dual-mindedness of this Moon sign, wherein one part of the mind does not know what the other part is doing or thinking. Contradictory reactions (even simultaneously) and unfocused thoughts and emotions often lead those with Gemini Moon to spread themselves too thin.

Gemini Moon desperately needs mental variety and learning of all kinds. But the primary challenge to them as they grow through life is confronting this question: With all these ideas and “facts,” do I have any depth of real knowledge, and with all this learning, have I gained any understanding? At their best, Gemini Moon people are witty and amazingly skilled in a vast number of areas, and they also have a lively communication style with a diverse array of people. At their worst, they seem possessed by—and thus at the mercy of—their own thoughts, leaving them endlessly perplexed and confused. They are also sometimes so subjective that they will not really even notice the other person with whom they are so actively talking and “communicating.” Grant Lewi also wrote perceptively about the intellectual pride of Gemini Moon:

“The picture of yourself that pleases you best is that you are an exceptional intellect to which the world listens to thankfully. To be as intellectual as you would like to be is a big order and may take more application than you are willing to put on it. Cleverness pleases you better than profundity. You would rather be funny than fair, exciting than stable, provocative than studious.”

Those with Moon in Gemini are often very clever, and they like to emphasize it, but their overly active minds, and their attempts to figure everything out through intellectual theories, can make them chronically unhappy. Despite the intellectual pride referred to earlier, their self-image is unstable, perhaps most of all because Gemini often finds it difficult to believe in anything. There is often therefore a confused self-image—and thus sometimes also an unclear sexual identity.

Women with Moon in Gemini are very talkative, very social, project a level of nervous energy in everyday life. Being around anybody with Moon in Gemini, there is a highly energy-charged atmosphere. The men share these traits with the women but also seem to be more like the types that “get around,” who are always on the go, doing something, giving somebody a hand. There’s a lot of versatility in both sexes, interested in many kinds of people and activities.

Emotional reactions are light-hearted, cool and startlingly versatile. Feelings flit like butterflies and are just about as hard to catch. To some, all the colour and brightness is irresistible. To others, the display is much too hollow, too unemotional, too fickle.

libra moon

Like Gemini Moon in the tendency toward indecision, but not nearly so scattered, this Moon sign weighs everything in their minds before reacting to any experience. One can get a feeling for this Moon sign by imagining a combination of the fluctuating Moon and the Libra symbol of the “scales of justice,” which oscillate up and down, continually adjusting even if a feather’s weight is added to one scale. Libra Moon often balances off whatever interpersonal input they receive, usually doing so gently. They take personal relationships seriously and pride themselves on fairness and being able to see the other person’s point of view. This tendency of putting themselves in the other’s situation, more marked in Libra than in any other zodiac sign, can be carried so far as to see them lean over backwards to please the other person—often even ignoring their own interests. Thei need to beliked that motivates much of their person-to-person behavior, to where it can undermine their highly valued objectivity. The desire to avoid unpleasantness can lead to relatively superficial, placating responses that may not be completely sincere—occasionally verging on flattery. They easily lose themselves in the other’s energy field and become confused about where they end and the other begins. Their spontaneous reactions are unconsciously modified by how the person they are interacting with is reacting!

There are, however, people with an imbalanced Libra Moon who exemplify one of two extreme modes of expression: either those with the tendency to please others and avoid any appearance of disagreement even to the extent of hypocrisy; or the occasional unpleasant ones who make it a point to be especially irritating and aggressive, as if to show you they don’t care what you think. In the first group, despite the powerful urge to play nice and pretend kindness, they seem almost unconscious of other people’s real thoughts and feelings. And of course, the second group would never in any situation bother in the slightest with anyone else’s thoughts or feelings. With either extreme type of Libra Moon personality, there is an inability to relate deeply and authentically.”

In both of the “imbalanced” types of Libra Moon just mentioned, the result can be a rather lonely life, something that is difficult and depressing for anyone with an emphasis on Libra, the sign of partnership par excellence. Libra Moon folks need sharing of ideas and idealism in life, and without that dynamic interchange and companionship, they do not feel secure or fulfilled. One sometimes wonders if there is deep down a profound fear of personal intimacy with some of these people, the emotional reactions often being so inhibited, regulated, and unspontaneous. One could easily interpret the motivation of the aggressive group mentioned above as a way of guaranteeing that no one likes them, thus making a close relationship, wherein they would have to give of themselves honestly and openly, completely impossible. This type of Libra Moon is completely self-centered and insensitive to others, and very exclusive in their views of other people and in their social lifestyle. They are also extremely opinionated. Although even the more pleasant and considerate Libra Moon folks can be very opinionated (even though they rarely acknowledge their true views in case it would cause disharmony), the irritating type of this lunar position is usually rigidly opinionated in a way that makes true communication a hopeless impossibility. People with this Moon sign often seem to lack intellectual confidence and thus seem unable to be comfortable with the natural Libran ambivalence toward important ideas. They then retreat into a safe opinion that does not have to be questioned or shared. The truly balanced Libra Moon personality can readily handle many sides of any issue or concept with impartiality.

aquarius moon

Those born with the Moon in Aquarius are the ultimate nonconformists. They instinctively react to most experiences in an unpredictable, often eccentric way. They will respond in a rather contrary way if you say, do, or expect anything that is socially or intellectually conventional. Independence is their primary guiding principle, and they pride themselves on their objectivity and intellectual integrity. In many areas of life, they are extremely experimental, and they rarely take anyone’s word for “truth” or as an ultimate authority—a quality that does not endear them to most of their bosses, supervisors, or even close friends, who may be far more knowledgeable in a certain field. Aquarius is after all the sign of the truth seeker; and it is the most scientific sign of the zodiac, in the true experimental sense of the word.

These guys feel most secure when exercising complete personal freedom of ideas, self-expression, and innovation. They need freedom like they need air, and they habitually rebel against too much restraint or anyone who tries to control them. Periodic radical life changes (social, geographic, domestic, or intellectual) provide some of this desperately needed personal space, rejuvenating and nourishing them, even though it may be difficult for themselves or their partners to endure. They have a rather odd emotional nature that infuriates and frustrates more conventional, predictable people, and this leads to their reacting eccentrically to many situations. The fact is, although they seem coldly mental, aloof, and sometimes even without normal human feelings, their emotional pressure builds up over time (since they find it impossible to keep in tune with those bothersome and murky passions and embarrassing needs); and it eventually explodes in impulsive, radical actions, or in sudden changes of plans or viewpoints. More than any other, Aquarius is a sign of extremism.

This Moon sign must be socially involved either directly with many people (such as in teaching or organizing conferences) or through publishing, social activism, or politics. They have an emotional need to affect large groups of people. Their humane understanding of broad human and social needs is actually much more perceptive than is their understanding of the needs of individuals. In fact, they often like studying entire societies or languages or other global issues, and the social sciences are frequently fields of interest for them. Aquarius Moon people identify with a society or with humanity as a whole. Their impersonal approach often elicits criticism from others about their aloofness and “coldness,” but in fact that very detachment enables them to respond to the emotional crises of others by remaining objective and staying above the turbulent and confusing emotional level. They are great friends and need to have friends that they would do anything for. You can tell them anything, and they’ll understand. They are utterly trustworthy, reasonable, and straightforward.… You discover how irrationally loyal these folks can be. Cool and detached they may seem, but they stick like glue to the people they love and respect. They stay in situations long past what others could handle and put up with.…

In fact, Aquarius Moon people rarely find their sense of security with family or physical relatives. They feel especially uncomfortable with such groups and the obligations and social protocols involved. They always seem to feel dissatisfied with their parents’ lifestyle and lack of communication, and sometimes that feeling of dissatisfaction extends to the country or culture of their youth. Therefore, they not only feel the need to detach themselves from the “oppressive” family, parental, and cultural influences, but they also sometimes extrapolate their dissatisfaction onto all of society and often expound many types of social protest. Good examples are John Lennon, Marilyn Monroe, and Lady Diana. A streak of rebelliousness thus pervades their memory of childhood and parental influences, and this affects their lifelong behavior in society. They insist on freedom from social obligations and conventional values.

The automatic contrary streak I mention above manifests in interpersonal reactions, in ways of thinking and discussing ideas, and in lifestyle. But it is the emotional contrariness and independence that sometimes cause them difficulty in relationships through others’ resentment or feelings of alienation. There is often an aloofness toward the sensitivities of others. Aquarius Moon folks prefer to maintain their stable focus and broad perspective than to be drawn into what appears to them the endlessly confusing morass of emotions that many people would like them to indulge in.

A dislike of routine and a strong need to prove self-sufficiency. A thread of separateness in relationships always seems present, as does unconventionality. Security with excitement is a major hard-to-achieve goal in life; needs constant stimulation within a fixed environment. I’ve had several close relationships with Moon in Aquarius individuals and none of them put any pressure on me to be any different than I am; they either accept or reject people but they rarely put anybody on the spot. I find Moon in Aquarius individuals to be straightforward once they’ve opened up. I always find myself confused in trying to figure out the independent yet sentimental nature of the Moon in Aquarius.

Both sexes can fixate for quite a period (sometimes days) on some extreme mood—either negative or unshakably upbeat. But the men were usually far less analytical about their current emotional state. In fact, whereas men with Aquarius Moon are usually seen to have remarkably steady moods, perhaps too steady in the view of many people who would like them to be more obviously responsive on a feeling level, women with Aquarius Moon seem to focus on their emotions and moods and then act them out in quite an extreme way. 

These people are very detached in daily life!! You can never tell what they are thinking or feeling, often they seem not to be listening at all! They dislike hassles and can withdraw at the drop of a hat, becoming very hard to reach or read. They are very matter-of-fact, very independent, self-assured when they do respond. They usually have something “different” about their lifestyles or interests. They usually have a very liberated sex life, experimental and blunt towards it.

[essayofthoughts]

📕

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

From what I see of CR fandom there's ... well frankly, not a lot of thoughts about Cassandra de Rolo, which is a shame because she's fascinating, but there seem to be a few specific trends for her. Some people want to give her a chance to be awesome and adventure on her own, which fine, I kind of get but also I think after the five years she had she'd want to unwind and relax and be safe more than a lot of things. Even when dealing with anger and all (with Percy's help, given some of the Wrap Up comments) I don't think that's necessarily the route she'd go. The other trends I see for her are often specifically romantic - and there's two trends I see there. People who ship her with Kynan, due to some of the Wrap Up comments from Matt, and people who ship her with Kaylie for... I don't know what reason. Some combo of Lesbians and, from what I could tell "it'd piss off Percy and that'd be funny" which I don't necessarily believe and certainly do not find encouraging ship motivation.

Sufficeth to say, I do not find either of these particularly compelling.

I've written a small fic about Cass before (here) and one day I'd like to write something that builds on it. Specifically, I want to explore how she might interact with Desmond.

No, not the mapmaker, that's Tyriok.

No, not the person they saved outside of Westruun from the orcs.

No. No. No.

The carriageboy Percy maimed.

Yeah. Him.

See, there's a few things I think that have the potential to make that interesting. Firstly, we're told Desmond is around 18 - which is to say, older than Kynan, around the same age as Cass, and likely around the same age Percy was when the Briarwoods attacked.

(Percy's last words to Desmond before knocking him out, "I want you spend the rest of your life making up for what you allowed to happen", suddenly take on a whole load of other meaning when you consider that, imo.)

He's a Whitestone native, he's not an inherently bad person. Percy attempts to apologise once they return, but gets repeatedly spoken over because he pauses, presumably trying to find the right words to apologise ("I'm sorry I maimed you, I was not entirely myself and may have been under the influence of a demon but that's no excuse and I do not know that I can ever make amends to you for the wrong I have done you" is not an apology that's likely to fall easily from anyone's lips, let us be honest here). He does ultimately try to ensure Desmond gets a position of work - which he may otherwise struggle to find, given his maimed hand, and again, which it is only fair Percy attempt to rectify given his responsibility.

But ah, this is all Desmond and Percy, let me move on to Desmond and Cassandra.

They're of an age. They also both lived through the Briarwoods occupation in pretty close proximity to the Briarwoods - Cassandra as their prisoner and Desmond first as the carriageboy of one of their new nobles and then as their carriageboy. They've seen both the Briarwoods capability for kindness, for protective anger, and for their cruelty and brutality - including towards them. They murdered Cassandra's family; when she helped Percy escape they were shot at and she was shot down under their orders. They abandoned Desmond when Vox Machina attacked; on realising he was their prisoner they sent two invisible stalkers to kill him.

They also were twistedly parental to Cassandra and saved Desmond from Tylieri's treatment. These two undoubtedly have complicated, messy and often unclear thoughts and emotions regarding the Briarwoods. Desmond was offered a job as a courier between Whitestone and Emon but after Musician's Nostalgia he's never heard from again. He may have been killed during the Conclave's attack, if he was still in Emon - or he may have been sent off already. The wiki assumes he lives; we don't know for certain. But I like the idea he lives and I like this specific idea, so I run with the assumption he survived and either made his way to Whitestone or was part of the refugees VM evacuated to Whitestone.

And I like the idea that he ends up in service to Cass, basically as her manservant and personal assistant. Percy wants to see Desmond employed. Cassandra is being left in charge of Whitestone and all the things Percy, in his particular messy way, is not good at dealing with, which is to say the aftermath of so much of what he does.

So Cassandra, partially perhaps as a pointed comment, keeping Desmond as her personal servant - so Percy cannot forget what he has done and what he has left her to deal with.

I do not think Desmond would ever think particularly kindly of Percy. I do not blame him. No matter how much I love Percy as a character and think him well constructed and find him fascinating to explore - I would not blame Desmond in the least for being bitter and angry regarding the man who maimed him, never apologised, ensured he was given employment and just left the handling of that to his deeply traumatised younger sister.

There are many legitimate reasons to criticise Percy and Desmond, in this circumstance even more than canon, would have every cause to see those.

But I also think he'd have a lot of reasons to empathise with and understand Cassandra. I think their understanding of the complexity of their personal relationships with the Briarwoods would make them less judgemental of one another's difficult decisions during the occupation; their understanding of the pressures of the occupation and the grief Whitestone and the families within it bear for what happened - they lived in and amongst it as Percy did not.

I think they could connect on an interesting and deep way.

I also think neither is particularly prone to trusting, given everything. I think they'd take a damn long time to admit their trust for each other let alone anything else. If I wrote it, it would be a painfully slow burn.

But... I like to imagine it. I like to think up how they'd slowly be drawn closer just by working together and seeing each other every day and understanding one another's quirks. I like to think about the steady, quiet peace they build because neither has much care for sudden loud noises or explosive anger. For how their understanding of one another builds reassurance; for how that means they stand firm for each other in tentative friendship and empathetic loyalty. I like to think about the way they act towards each other, starting as the formal standard of ruling Lady and personal manservant and how that shifts as they use that to shield one another from things they know they dislike; Desmond given leave when Percy comes to speak to Cassandra, Desmond interrupting with some small important distraction when Cassandra gets caught in panic or anxiety or a memory. Quietly, persistently, helping each other, and it seeming only as work.

But it's too persistent for just work. It's too consistent for work.

But of course - they cannot just admit it. They have little reason to trust, for all they very clearly trust each other within their set dynamic.

This story, if I ever wrote it, would unfold slowly, small thing weighing upon small thing until the pressure is insurmountable and impossible to ignore.

It's not my usual style, that kind of steady slow pacing. But one day, I'd like to try it.

[crimeronan]

Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so.  yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes 

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world.  follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content.  in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass.  which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype.  mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that.  yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale.  both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness??  rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family??  rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life??  rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry??  once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks??  all that repression baybey.  this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years.  every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far.  not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc.  i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc.  but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me.  he’s so fucking good

[mimisempai]

When I see you I know I'm home

Summary

Returning from a mission, Sam walks along the harbor to find the one who shares his life, and revisits his memories...

Words : 1273 - Rating : G

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31403135

Sam would never tire of this sight.

As he followed the road that led him to their home, as he drove along the harbor, the sight of the "Paul & Darlene" had a way of soothing him. It was the sight that told him, "Welcome home."

But this view tonight, this view he had been graced with for the past few months, gave him a sense of belonging that made him say, "I am home."

Seeing Bucky busy on the boat had that kind of power. Sam felt like the sailors who navigated through the storm and saw the light of the lighthouse to show them the safe harbor.

No matter how chaotic the world was, when Sam would see this, he knew he could put his bags down, hang up his Captain America suit and just be the time he was here.

He decided to park the car and walk the rest of the way to enjoy the view.

The dockworkers were starting to head home, and Bucky was finishing unloading the boat. Sam couldn't help but think back to that day when Bucky had come to bring him his new armor.

There was so much misunderstanding and unspoken words between them at that time.

They had been drawn into a chain of events, between John Walker, the Flag Smashers, Madripoor and Riga. It had been impossible for them to settle down to clear the air between them. Both were struggling with their own demons.

"Just dropping this off. You can sign for it and I'll go."

Sam chuckled as he remembered Bucky's words when he had delivered the armor. To think that it had just taken a faulty boat pipe for them to be able to talk each other naturally and regain the closeness they had before.

Seeing Bucky now going down into the engine room, Sam remembered how they had worked on this boat together.

In fact, thinking back, it was so obvious that Bucky had come in the hope of being made to stay, the way he had spontaneously offered to help, the roundabout way he had gotten Sam to offer to stay with them.

Meanwhile, Bucky had gone back upstairs and put away whatever was still lying around, making sure everything was in order for the next day. Sam remembered fondly when Bucky had come to join him in that same engine room in the early morning, he remembered precisely the intimacy of that moment, their closeness, all those glances exchanged, no wonder they hadn't been able to fix the engine at the end.

As he got closer, he saw Bucky greeting some people who were passing by and others who came to exchange a few words. Old Carlos as usual. Sam had been surprised at the friendship that had formed between him and Bucky. Seeing Bucky laughing so freely, he thought to himself that at the time, it was something he would never have imagined seeing.

Bucky had once told him that what had been pivotal for him was the way he had been welcomed here combined with his discussion with Sam in the clearing.

That Sam had given him some perspective and something to look forward to. To him who had only gone from battle to battle, without having time to really stop and think about what he wanted to do and not what others wanted him to do.

Sam remembers how he felt that day.

The responsibility of that shield weighing on im. In that moment he had so strongly needed someone, for Bucky, to understand what it meant to him. And Bucky had reacted beyond his expectations, he had apologized to him, and even though he still didn't understand everything, he had taken the first step. Sam didn't need someone perfect, he knew there was a lot to learn, but Bucky was making the effort. He had also put his own insecurities into words, nothing like the aggressive talk from the disastrous session they had with Bucky's therapist.

Sam had found in Bucky an attentive and understanding ear, Sam had been able to express his fears and doubts. Bucky had accepted everything and validated everything.

Even though nothing had happened between them at that point, the dynamics of their relationship had changed and had planted the roots of their current relationship.

He remembered Bucky, stumbling over his words trying to make him understand what he was trying to do to make amends. He had seen the broken man, but he had also seen the man who wanted to get better, who wanted to break free, it had only taken a few words to guide him and Bucky had walked the rest of the way.

What a journey...

Seeing him laugh like that, communicating with people, freely, so open. Sam couldn't help but feel pride for the man who shared his life. He had found in Bucky a partner who complemented him, one who allowed him to put down his baggage, to be himself away from the expectations of the outside world and the responsibility he had taken on.

He was only a few steps away now, Bucky had his back to him and was looking out over the lake, the sun was setting, and it reminded Sam of the day Bucky had stayed.

Sam remembered little moments of that day, "Uncle Bucky" coming up here and there, Bucky taking the time to talk to every person he met, the smile that never seemed to leave his lips, the smile he had had when he had seen him, Sam. And later, when he had come to join Sam on the dock and without a word, they had returned together to Sam's house.

Today it was he who approached Bucky from behind.

"Hey..." he put his hand on his shoulder, not a flinch, Bucky simply leaned his head against Sam's hand before turning around.

"Hey Sam... already here? Weren't you supposed to be back tomorrow?" He framed Sam's face with both hands, not letting him answer, and kissed him softly before resuming, "I'm not complaining though..."

"Hm..." Sam grumbled because he hadn't had enough, he reclaimed Bucky's lips keeping him from moving back. In return, Bucky wrapped his arms around him and the reunion kiss dragged on and on, neither of them getting enough. Once they caught their breath, much later, Bucky put his head in Sam's neck and whispered, "I missed you."

Sam tightened the embrace before whispering back, "I missed you too Bucky. Why do you think I came home early?"

He took Bucky's hand and they stayed like that, facing the lake and the setting sun, in silence, enjoying each other's presence.

Sam cleared his throat.

"You know when I saw you on the boat when I first got there, I thought we were kind of like that boat. It has had its ups and downs. A while back I thought I was going to lose it, I thought the repairs would never be enough, but with a push, perseverance, and once we figured out what it needed, it started up again, and since then it's been cared for, paid more attention to its needs, and it's still here even after all it's been through, stronger than before."

"Just like us," Bucky replied in a slightly broken voice.

"Yes, just like us." Sam raised Bucky's hand to his lips and kissed it.

Bucky replied, his throat tight, "Thanks for not giving up on me."

Sam simply replied, "Thank you for understanding what I needed."

Then still holding Bucky's hand, he began to walk to get off the boat.

"Come on Bucky, let's go home." ____

If you have made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read.