#i like her for her issues though. they do compel me

[themyscirah]

Could theoretically make a Vanessa wall in my dorm next year.....

[okcoolthanks]

Ok I love jrwi. But please they need more female characters that aren’t like. Related. Or in a romantic relationship with the pcs or other npcs.

Please

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[blisterthigh]

do you ever think about the people who mailed in letters for the first x-force and cable runs about badly wanting to see more of domino because she was unsympathetic and cold and competent. and then that first solo dropped and she sounded like this and this seems to be what 70% of the people writing her have been going off of to this day

[podcastenthusiast]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Mostly payneland <3 I will update as I find more fics.

“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.

The Things We Can, and Cannot, Do by MDJensen

Paul Rowland is dead. It's not just that, though.

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees

“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”

Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.

Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys.   In which a very, very old case is re-opened.

Mom Says It's My Turn to Jump on the Grenade by RoseGanymede95

Charles tried to pay attention, because Edwin was really upset, and Charles still didn’t understand why, and it seemed like this might be important. It was just, they’d been at this for a while, and Edwin kept asking him the same questions and not leaving him time to answer, so. His mind may have wandered a bit to how he would reinforce the next cricket bat. His attention snapped back to the present when Edwin said, “This can’t happen. You can’t risk this, I can’t be the reason you risk it. You have to move on.” “Move on?” Charles repeated blankly. “Move on from what?” “From here, Charles!” Edwin shouted, suddenly furious again, suddenly shouting even though his eyes were filled with tears. “You have to go with Death! You have to leave!” “I don’t want to go with Her,” Charles said, nonplussed. “Fine, that’s your business, but you can’t keep hanging around me!” Edwin snapped. Charles’ world suddenly tilted on its axis, sending everything askew. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice small, his heart wide open and exposed.

Let me bleed instead of you by mellxncollie

The question rang like a cracked bell in what had only just become someplace Edwin had started to contemplate calling home. “What was Hell like?” - Charles and Edwin keep secrets from one another. The list isn't long, but it's not empty. Eventually, they start tumbling out in soft whispers, in tear-reddened eyes, in shocked expressions, in choked up phrases.

Or, 40 years and 8 secrets.

Indelible by Arisprite

Charles is feeling a lot and also not much at all in the immediate aftermath of returning from Hell. He also can tell Edwin is wearing thin from holding himself together. Who wouldn't be, after that? It's okay, though. Charles can take care of him, and he always always will.

Done Running by Asidian

Charles has gone a peculiar off color, all the blood blanched from his cheeks. He glances to the arm, and then back up to Edwin's face. "Any break's a bad break, innit?"

"Some have more drawbacks than others," says Edwin, detached and scholarly. "For instance, unless the nerves are compromised, it is possible to make use of the injured arm in cases of extreme –"

"Bloody hell," breathes Charles.

Joi de Vivre by olympus_mons

Edwin Payne crawls out of Hell twice. Somehow, his problems begin in the aftermath.

so many ways to give in by piilu

“I think there’s something really wrong with me, mate,” Charles sobs, the remains of the bat falling from his hand. ---- Charles struggles with his anger issues. Again.

A Room of One's Own by DarkStars (Worlds_Okayest_Goalie)

Crystal is so tired of watching Charles and Edwin stare longingly at each other. OR 5 times Crystal tells Charles and Edwin to get a room and 1 time they do.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.

Charles Rowland and his relationship with his extended family and heritage.

(Part of a series of snapshots of Charles’ life in the 1980s.)

half of my soul, as the poets say by thegirlofthorns

Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling.

- Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, and Very Bad by hibye

It was about the torture. The torture he was experiencing presently, and also every minute of every hour of every day, standing alongside Edwin Payne and saying nothing out of the ordinary at all.

O Spirit From The Great Beyond! by InTwainFiction

Edwin is ignoring Charles.

They haven't spoken in almost twelve hours, and all because of a little incident involving some puppies. Yes, said incident may have been Charles' fault, but he has apologised a million times.

Charles is getting desperate to find a way to get Edwin to talk to him again, and a little walk away from the office provides just the thing Charles needs.

He hopes it will get Edwin to talk to him, but at the very least it will be a laugh.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

“The house is… sad,” the client responds.

“Again, we can’t help with selling the house. Maybe try some decorations. That’ll brighten the old place up,” Charles suggests.

“No, you misunderstand. The house doesn’t look sad. The house is sad. It is depressed.”

“How do you figure?” Edwin says, sitting up in his chair now that the client has said something potentially interesting.

or A new case brings up old feelings, and maybe something more.

A Heaven Like They Talk About by LikeMmCookies

After managing to piss off yet another witch, Edwin and Charles are cursed as punishment. Bewildered, powerless, and lacking answers, they face their greatest challenge yet: being human again.

With Edwin doing novel things like picking out shampoo and wearing different pants, Charles finds his body reacting in strange ways to his best friend. He questions if these are new feelings, or if they'd been there all along.

But the biggest question remains - do they stay alive or do they find a way to go back?

being unknown by The_IPRE

Edwin does know Charles, or at least he likes to think that he does. He knows that Charles is far better with the clients than he is, quick to offer a smile or extend sympathy while Edwin is far more interested in delving deeper into the details of the case. He knows that Charles has a wicked swing with his cricket bat, but prefers to leave that as a second resort when he believes there's a way for them to come to a compromise. He knows that Charles chooses to hope for the best from people, even after having seen the worst they have to offer–and in fact, having been killed by it.

As Charles sits in front of him, the strain in his shoulders at odds with the easy grin on his face, Edwin wonders how much of his friend he is failing to see. -- 5 times Edwin didn't press the issue, and one time he did.

The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) by DontOffendTheBees

“Charles,” Edwin admonished, gently closing his book with a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place. “I have asked you to stop fooling around with that contraption and get some work done.”

“I have been!” Charles defended, gesturing broadly at the higgledy-piggledy array of items around him. Evidently, taking stock of the contents of his bag of tricks was an expansive task. “Taking a break.” He snatched the small square of paper from the Polaroid camera and began to shake it with abandon.   In which Charles partakes in some amateur ghost photography, and Edwin (fondly) bemoans the futility of the exercise.

The Good Left Undone by plutosheaven

Help comes from unlikely places when Edwin is once again faced with a threat worse than death.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)

Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX

“Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all

At the top of a small pile of papers was a copy of Form 239, Schedule L, filled out with achingly familiar handwriting. At the top, the word "Approved" was stamped in large red letters.

This Darkness, Enduring by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone,” they tell her. “It was… an Act of God.”

She cannot think of a single thing to say for a very long moment. And then she has many things to say, most of which are not at all appropriate for polite company. --- Edwin Payne's mother, before and after.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone," they tell her. "He ran away." She doesn't say anything. --- Charles Rowland's mother, afterwards.

dreaming of the things you said / hoping that it's meant by ohmyfuckinggod420

Edwin turns away with a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. His non-existent, ghostly stomach. It seems so ridiculously cruel and on theme for his current situation. Not only is he in love with his best friend, and not only does his best friend not love him back, but he’s feeling things that he shouldn’t be feeling on top of things that he physically should not be able to feel. or

The gang is back in London. Niko is gone, Crystal is on the cusp of a breakdown, Charles is still a flirt, and Edwin is... trying his best.

Oh, and he keeps feeling his pulse. As a ghost. A very dead ghost.

The trouble really never ends.

the ghost of the past that you live in by ObsessedWithFandom

It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend.

Or: five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.

Aftermath by sophisticatedyet

“What are you humming?”

Charles’ polo muffled his question, and the pause before Charles answered was so long that Edwin wondered if he hadn’t heard him at all. But then he said, "A lullaby.”

The answer made Edwin smile bemusedly. “Why? I can't fall asleep.”

“Yeah, duh, I know. It's just meant to soothing.”

“Oh.” Edwin rested his head back against Charles’ chest. “I suppose I do feel quite soothed.”

Dance the Night by Gruoch

“What is that?” Crystal asks, looking Edwin up and down with an expression of abject befuddlement that borders on disgust.

“It is my disguise,” Edwin replies a little stiffly in response to her tone. “You told me to wear a disguise.”

“You look like Margaret Thatcher,” Crystal says flatly. “You’re going undercover at a nightclub, not a library. This—“ she plucks at Edwin’s long tweed skirt, her lip curling— “is not appropriate nightclub attire. You’re gonna attract too much attention.”

“I thought attracting attention was the point of this ludicrous exercise,” Edwin snaps back.

“Yes, the right kind of attention,” Crystal stresses. “This—” she waves a hand broadly at him—“will get the wrong kind of attention.”

~~

In which the gang returns home to discover something sinister stalking London’s party scene after dark, Edwin lets his hair down, Charles’ confidence is shaken, and Crystal pursues a new lease on life (and hopefully doesn’t die in the process).

Everywhere, Everything (wanna love you) by WildCookieKeef

Freedom, as it seems, is suffocating. Decades spent running away from death herself and yet now more than ever does Edwin feel restless. Hell is behind him for the second time. He might’ve escaped his fate of eternal torture, but rabidly approaching are revelations he would’ve kept buried for far longer.

He’d never be so flustered and disorganized if it hadn’t been for Crystal or the Cat King or Monty or the Night Nurse or that horrible witch Esther or Simon, god not Simon, or practically reenacting old Greek tales with his best mate or. . .

No. It’s no one’s fault but his own. If he could sleep he’s sure he’d have nightmares.

Of what? There’s lots to choose from, but he can just feel it. Maybe some spirit malady has taken root in his body. He can sense the tension under his skin. Aches of pain that he knows aren’t physical.

He never should’ve told Charles. What was he thinking?

or After the end of S1, Edwin reasons that Charles rejected his confession and fears the worst while trying to suffer silently. Charles is very bad at letting Edwin suffer in peace.

the eight layers of hell, reversed by Zairielon

There's a lot that Edwin and Charles don't talk about. Frankly, after 30 years together, you don't have to say much for the other person to get the point. But Port Townsend and Crystal and Niko knocked their dynamic off-kilter, and by the time they return to London and finally get back to "normal," "normal" has changed. "Normal" is now Crystal's bright laughter, Niko's earnest affection, and Edwin's faint smiles. "Normal" is an unnameable ball of emotions tangled up in Charles' chest. "Normal" is Edwin looking at him, and Charles hearing those words all over again.

Charles, I'm in love with you.

OR, Charles figures out what it means that Edwin is the only person in the world he'd run into Hell for.

When We Walk Together We Tend To Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor

She’s never unexpected, but she’s always a surprise. And when Charles meets her, it's nothing like the nightmare he's built up in his own head, being split away from Edwin and cursed to an afterlife without him. She's kind and gentle and familiar, and she gives him a chance to say goodbye to his mother.

Or, the one where Charles meets Death. They have a lot to talk about. But it's okay. They have time.

it's you that i hold on to by lrvzender

A pair of lips press shakily on his temple. Charles Rowland’s blood definitely runs hot, Edwin decides, definitely.

“You’re not asking anything, mate. But you have to understand that you are worth saving, a thousand times over. You are worth knowing, Edwin.”

Something bigger than the whole, wide sky. Something bigger than death, perhaps.

(where Edwin does not ask to be known, but Charles knows anyway)

and your song, it haunts me like hunger does the crow by kay_cricketed

After they return to London, Charles notices an escalation in people approaching Edwin with their attentions. Which is fine! It's not that Charles is jealous. He wants Edwin to be happy and to have a chance at a fulfilling relationship, yeah? The problem is, Charles is aware that Edwin is unpracticed with these kinds of emotions and other people, and it would be very easy for someone to take advantage. And that’s not going to happen, not on Charles’ watch.

To make matters worse, the admirers are getting a little too intense. And Charles is starting to suspect there's more at work than everyone realizing his best mate is brills.

(Or: In which the damage to Edwin's soul across years of torture has had an unusual effect, and Charles needs to fix it before he's compelled to violence. Again.)

trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe / entangled, together, transformed by theroyalsavage

Edwin Payne and Charles Roland are not Orpheus and Eurydice. They are not tragic figures of myth, children of gods and spirits, immortalized in verse by the poets of old. They’re nothing special at all – just two boys too stubborn to move on. With that said, however… Edwin must admit that there are certain similarities.

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary

"Are you a zombie?” Niko peers into Edwin’s eyes. “Because the Night Nurse told me zombies exist. Do you hunger for brains, Edwin?”

“Hardly.” Remembering being splattered with gray matter in the not-so-distant past, Edwin shudders. He cannot imagine consuming it. “I’m not a zombie.”

“What about a vampire?” She almost looks excited by the prospect. “We’re only a couple of hours from Forks. It would be perfect!””   When they’re caught during their escape from Hell, Charles and Edwin have no choice but to make a deal: they have one hundred days to find and entrap a powerful, malevolent spirit, or both of their souls are forfeit. But when they’re both temporarily restored to living bodies to aid in their search, being alive brings with it a host of new feelings, which neither of them know how to cope with, especially as their deadline looms closer and their quarry proves increasingly dangerous.

Unbreakable by Asexual_Enjolras

Edwin feels as though he owes Charles an apology because he cannot offer support to his best friend in the same way that Crystal can. And Charles tells him exactly where to stick that apology the moment he does.

Or, Edwin feels like he is broken and Charles does not agree.

after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr

“Where are you buried, do you’ve any idea?”

“My body was never found,” he replies softly. “There is a memorial marker next to my parents’ graves, but my remains are not there.”

The idea is so horrifying that it stuns Charles into silence for a couple seconds. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”

Edwin’s shoulders tense. “The whole thing is bloody tragic enough as it is.”

Grabbing his wrist, Charles begins marching them back in the direction of the pond they used to get here. Edwin doesn’t resist, but he does argue, because of course he does. “Charles, where are we going?”

“St. Hilarion’s. We’ve got a new case, don’t we?”

Hold This by RoseGanymede95

“Alright, listen,” Charles said, after trying not to think at all for at least five minutes. “Hear me out.”

“Any ideas?” Edwin asked, not looking up from his page.

“It’s just. What would actually happen if you cut my hand off?”

Edwin jerked his head up so fast, Charles wondered that he didn’t brain himself against the stone wall. He looked more offended than he had when he found out about the live snake in Charles’ bag.

“What the hell kind of a question is that?” He hissed.

“I’m not saying we should do it!” Charles backpedaled. “I’m just curious! These cuffs make us proper solid, don’t they? We could probably lop it off and get me out.”

“No,” said Edwin emphatically. “We are not discussing this. I don’t want you getting any ideas and chewing your own arm off like a trapped weasel.”

“Not my whole arm, just my hand.”

the start of something beautiful (the spoiler-free remix) by KiaraSayre

Four cases from the Dead Boy Detectives casebook, featuring amnesia, corporeality, a time loop, and a chill hang sesh.

If I'm Batman, You're Robin by ahyperactivehero

Charles misses a lot of things from life. One of those is the movies. Edwin volunteers to go with him.

XXX

“Batman Returns?” Edwin asked, reading the title. “What sort of creature is a Batman?”

Charles couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out. “No, he’s not a creature, mate. He’s a superhero.” At the totally blank look on Edwin’s face he tried again. “He’s like a detective. But he fights crime with his fists, too.”

“Ah,” Edwin said with a knowing look. “One of your heroes, I see.”

offer me that deathless death by websters_lieb

It takes the better part of two days for Charles’s body to even be found, and in the end, Edwin is forced to turn on all the lights in the gymnasium attic where Charles had died in order to get a janitor to come upstairs. No one had even been looking for him, yet. - or Edwin and Charles attend a funeral, look for a gravestone, and decide to become detectives.

Edwin's Payne tolerance by RabidWatermelon

Charles knew Edwin had a high pain tolerance. How could he not, having endured the tortures of hell? He just didn’t expect it to be so… useful.

AKA I want to write drabbles about Edwin's pain tolerance because I think it's something that would come up over thirty years together and be mildly concerning to someone who went through abuse in life. No fixed plot or posting schedule. Will update tags as chapter come out w new content.

The Case of Edwin's Missing Notebook by thewalkingstone

Edwin forgot his notebook at the office.

Not a problem. He prided himself on having an excellent memory. He certainly liked to jot down notes as he worked, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work without it. He would just have to remember things until they returned to the office.

It was fine. He was a professional, and professionals did not delay an investigation because they forgot their notebook. OR Just months after escaping Hell, Edwin accidentally forgets his notebook on a case. He does not handle it well. Luckily, his new best mate is there to help him out.

The Scenic Route by DontOffendTheBees

"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."

Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."

"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."   In which the agency takes the scenic route to their next case; and Edwin finally receives some answers he's been waiting for.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.”

[tossawary]

I'm thinking about "What if the main character did not have a secret, powerful family background and was just some random person?" AUs for different stories, because I personally find that situation more compelling most of the time and I think it introduces more interesting struggles. While thinking about a bunch of other stories, I ended up thinking about Aragorn in "Lord of the Rings".

Now, Aragorn is a special case because 1) I wouldn't really call him THE main character and the "noble" members of the Fellowship are well-contrasted by the hobbits. The hobbits may be mostly Shire gentry (except for Sam), but on the grand stage of Middle Earth, they're still unimpressive nobodies. Frodo is already our ordinary hero. 2) Aragorn's road to kingship comes with him struggling with his ancestor's failures and accepting the heavy burdens that come with being Isildur's heir. This is specifically an arc of a character struggling with their family history. I am absolutely not saying that Aragorn being royalty makes LOTR a bad story and that it would be better if he was just some random guy. I think this is a well-written character storyline that is a key feature of the overall story.

But I do think it would be really funny to write fanfiction where Aragorn wasn't Arathorn's son. (There is the issue of the heritage that makes Aragorn age slowly, but maybe you could wiggle that so that Aragorn has that kind of heritage from a different source?) Like, the line of Isildur has died out, and let's say that Aragorn's mother takes shelter in Rivendell with her son, and kid Aragorn ends up wandering around to the broken sword and picking up the handle. And either Aragorn's mother lies to Elrond about Aragorn being Arathorn's son or Elrond happens across kid Aragorn with the broken sword and thinks... "Hey, what if we just... lied about it?"

Now, this could end really badly! As I vaguely understand it, the Silmarillion (which I have not read) contains a bunch of examples where lying did not go well, so maybe this lie is how Middle Earth falls into chaos in this AU. Whoops.

But even though this breaks some plotlines, I'm a sucker for adoption storylines. I love adoption being treated as important. It's compelling to imagine Elrond and Aragorn's mother carefully explaining the situation with the sword to him, and then this child just... stubbornly deciding that he's going to become Isildur's heir. Maybe Aragorn's determination falters at some point, he gives up on the idea, and he later has to return to Elrond as an adult and persuade him that no, he means it this time, mankind isn't just about bloodlines, he's going to pick up this burden on behalf of all of humanity. I think that there's something powerful in a person deciding that no, I'm not of Isildur's blood, but I have his same potential for success and for failure, and I'm here. I'm fighting. I picked up the broken sword and that's good enough, isn't it? Who are you to say I'm not his heir? I'm HERE.

I think there's powerful magic in that too. (Also, Arathorn is dead and getting adopted as a father by some random kid. Sure. Okay. I think that's just funny.)

(Also, oh my, there is SO MUCH tragedy if Aragorn being Isildur's heir is a lie and Boromir died believing it. The GUILT. The GUILT that Aragorn would feel when Boromir says, "I would have followed you, my brother, my captain, my king." Like, oh man, now you HAVE TO make it true.)

Now, maybe Aragorn doesn't become King of Gondor in this AU or maybe he does. Maybe Faramir becomes king instead. Maybe it becomes well known by the end of the journey that Aragorn isn't a blood descendant of Isildur and maybe it's a secret known only to the Fellowship. I'd like to think that he still marries Arwen. I like the idea of Arwen happily and knowingly marrying some nobody lying about his heritage and Elrond internally being like, "This is kind of on me."

The most important thing here is that it would be so fucking funny if Aragorn (and Elrond and Gandalf and Galadriel) successfully lied to Sauron the Deceiver. Sauron's like, "Oh? A secret heir come out of hiding to fight against me? Sounds legit." And at some point near the end, just before some hobbits chuck a ring into a volcano behind his back, Sauron is looking at Aragorn like, "Wait a minute, what the fuck, you lying little SHIT."

(Or Sauron finds out via Pippin that Aragorn is lying and feels SO SMUG about how he's going to crush a false king, which just adds to Aragorn's whole "made you look!" distraction keeping Sauron from noticing the hobbits sneaking into Mount Doom.)

[pippenpaddlopsicopolisthethird]

Write twins better in three easy steps!

I meet so many people who act so stupid about this to my face, and I basically never see a set of identical twins that are well written in fiction, so here's a couple tips about identical twins. Mostly as a reference for writing them, but also so you can tell people to stop acting like an asshole to any twins you might know IRL.

FACT ONE:

Identical twins are two separate people.

Not one brain in two bodies

Not a hivemind that can read each other's thoughts

They don't speak in unison all the time (but might answer together if you address them as a collective and not an individual)

If they date they don't share the same partner

Can't be counted as one person for the sake of entry admission, airplane seating, employment, school tuition, or voting

Have their own names, even, and would prefer you use them instead of calling them both by the same collective name

I am eternally mad about We-Go from Kim Possible

FACT TWO:

Identical twins don't struggle telling themselves apart from each other. Your difficulty telling them apart is not something they have ever experienced themselves.

They understand the difference between looking at themself in the mirror and looking at their twin.

Yes, even as a young child.

No, they didn't have to learn the difference between a mirror and their sibling.

They never believe their twin to be themself.

They don't struggle to see themself as their own person.

They don't feel like they're looking at their own face all the time.

They don't have constant thoughts about how their sibling looks similar to themself.

The scene from The Parent Trap where one "twin" says 'OMG why do you look just like me??' just isn't realistic

FACT THREE:

Identical twins are, as a rule, not trying to actively deceive you and are sick of people assuming that.

Your difficulty in telling them apart does not mean they are trying intentionally to trick you or make you mess up

They also aren't trying to scare you or murder you and they won't like you if you tell them you're afraid of them

Dating a twin doesnt mean you're going to be parent-trapped (and if you can't tell your partner apart from their sibling, that's not a good look on you)

Some twins just go with the assumptions everyone else is making about them already and play into the stereotype, especially as kids

Literally every fictional pair of identical twins are tricksters already. Come up with something original.

Twins can still be compelling characters without leaning on these tropes

Writing a compelling pair of identical twins doesn't have to be hard if you either write them like other siblings, or understand that the stereotypes that circulate in fiction are some of the biggest issues they struggle against. Here are some good examples of compelling twin plots that I can think of, though not all of these characters are twins or identical:

Mabel's fear at the end of Gravity Falls that growing up meant that her brother would grow apart from her

Stanley Pines struggling to measure up to his parent's favoritism of his brother throughout childhood, but still dedicating his adult life to getting him back when he went missing

Ty Lee running away to join the circus so she could have an identity outside of her parents' curated "matched set" of siblings in AtLA

Vash and Knives in Trigun '99 experiencing the same childhood traumas and interpreting them differently, coming away from them with opposing ideologies in adulthood

Hikaru and Kaoru's trauma over being told they were interchangeable and their desire to find someone who would treat them as individuals in Ouran High School Host Club

[incognitofox]

In Defense of Charlie x Vaggie:

Hazbin Hotel is far from a perfect show. I quite enjoyed it, of course, but that doesn’t mean that it lacks significant issues (not that I mind, nothing is perfect, and I believe people should be allowed to enjoy flawed media). One such complaint that I see often is that the show’s “main couple,” protagonist Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie, are “boring,” or that they “lack chemistry.”

Personally, for me, the relationship between these two ended up being one of, if not my favourite part of the show. I’ll admit my bias that as a lesbian myself, I’m always a sucker for any kind of wholesome sapphic relationship that I can get in the media. Even so, though, these two stood out to me particularly well.

And while, yes, I can absolutely see why their dynamic isn’t the most favorable to some people, I don’t think it’s correct to say that the writers “can’t write meaningful relationships” or “don’t understand love” (which are both real comments that I’ve seen whilst I’ve been a part of this fandom).

The first and most blatant criticism that I come across is that the two are rarely affectionate with each other, and while this seems to be the case at first glance, I can’t help but disagree. Though we rarely see the pair actively kissing or engaging in other activities that one would perceive as romantic, it’s clear that they find comfort in each other’s presence, even if it’s subtle.

Throughout season 1, the viewer is shown numerous instances of Charlie especially being comforted by her lover’s touch. For example, while Charlie is on the phone with her father, Lucifer, at the beginning of episode 5, we can observe that she is clearly anxious about the interaction. When it’s clear that Charlie is getting stressed, Vaggie opts to take her hand, and it can be inferred from her expression in the moment that Charlie appreciates this gesture, even if she finds herself preoccupied.

Keen-eyed watchers of the series will notice that the two are frequently seen in contact with each other, or at least in close proximity, implying a love language related to physical touch. However, while frequent, some argue that these little exchanges aren’t enough to sell the idea that the couple are truly involved with each other.

People seem to be disappointed that we don’t get to see any more intimate or outwardly romantic interactions between the pair outside these small snippets or the More than Anything reprise (which in truth was unfortunately very short). But in my personal opinion, I think this dynamic makes them even more compelling. Sure, they may not be the most affectionate of partners while on screen, but I never needed them to be in order to be convinced of their love for each other.

Keep in mind, Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years, they’re out of the honeymoon phase. They’re also both incredibly busy people, especially with the updated, much sooner extermination date introduced in episode 1. As much as it sucks, doing cute stuff with their respective partner probably isn’t their priority.

The beauty of this, though, is that despite it all you can still feel their love. Vaggie would do anything for her girlfriend, and she does. Their relationship is built on such genuine, wholesome trust and support for each other.

You can tell from the way they look at each other, and from the way they talk to each other, that even despite the chaos and despite the time, they are in love. So much so that even a potentially devastating reveal like Vaggie’s true identity is nothing more than a speed bump for them. It’s really quite lovely to see.

That’s why I can excuse the atrociously short run time of their duet, it’s their first moment of peace in months, and possibly their last ever, they don’t have time to do much, and yet they choose to spend this time declaring their love for one another, because they are still the most important things in each other’s lives. It’s so blatantly clear that their love is genuine, in this moment and outside of it.

I personally feel as though, in the world of the show, the relationship between Charlie and Vaggie is very realistic given the situation they’re in, and if I’m being honest, they have the kind of relationship that I myself would love to have.

In short, I understand why some people don’t like this pairing. I can understand liking other things better, and I don’t dislike anyone who does. I can understand wanting more from it, and hey, I’d appreciate it if they sprinkled in a few extra kisses next season just to feed the fans, but that doesn’t mean that what’s there doesn’t already exist. In my opinion, I think Vaggie x Charlie is beautifully written.

There are honestly so many other little things I could bring up about why I love these two so much. You are, of course, welcome to disagree, but I encourage those who do to avoid harassing those who contributed to the writing of Hazbin Hotel, or those who actually do appreciate this aspect of the show.

However, I also insist that people try to look beyond the surface, to see the detail and the beauty of this pairing, as well as other aspects of the show, or other pieces of media.

Because art is beautiful.

[lakesbian]

twig faq to answer all of the asks i got regarding my liveblog

Q: holy shit twig turned out bad huh A: yeah

Q: should i read twig? A: no. it's bad

Q: what about the parts of twig that were good though? i noticed that there were parts of twig that seemed awesome before everything suddenly exploded A: okay let me elaborate. the first ~13 arcs of twig are really really endearing when they're focusing on the lambs. when they're being about the lambs, they range anywhere from "cute" to "extremely fun" to "genuinely super compelling" to "shit that made me cry (positive)." we have high points such as:

12yo sylvester lambsbridge fumbles 3 people with crushes on him harder than anyone's ever fumbled in their life in the span of like 7 hours maximum

sylvester lambsbridge does transhet biopunk brokeback mountain

wildbow writes rose thorburn but if she were a hardass trans girl (she's the one doing transhet biopunk brokeback mountain with sy)

gordon dies and lillian copes by taking some of sy's drug that gives him turbo-adhd

helen is there

sylvester lambsbridge experiences what i earnestly believe to be one of the cruelest things wildbow has ever done to any of his protagonists

lots of other stuff, i'm abbreviating here

but the reason i say the first ~13 arcs of twig are good when they're focusing on the lambs is that twig is prone to slogging, strikingly mediocre fight scenes--sy can't fight for Shit, but wildbow still insists on describing, like, sylvester trying & failing to hit someone with a wooden plank with the same gratuitous, lengthy detail as taylor inventing a spider-based saw trap for someone. and unlike the spider-based saw trap, it's not interesting to read about. the arcs take an episodic format, and what this means is that virtually every arc goes on way too long, contains at minimum 40% more tediously detailed fight scenes than are actually necessary, and then leaves you feeling jarred when wildbow inevitably timeskips to the next arc just as the prior one was really getting into the emotional swing of things. i also have a (quite possibly subjective?) sense that twig wasn't as well-developed and thought-out as, e.g., pact, and oftentimes the setting conceit (1900s biopunk frankenstein-y british empire) doesn't feel like it's hitting quite as hard as it should.

for all of these reasons, i wouldn't have rated the first ~13 arcs of twig any more generously than in the 3.5-4 star range while i was reading them, but that's still an overall rating of good. i wouldn't still be thinking about some of the things from the first ~13 arcs of twig if they weren't overall good. if all of twig was the same quality as the first ~13 arcs, i would recommend it to people who i feel like could tolerate the pacing issues & would feel reading about the lambs was worth it.

but. BUT. BUT-

Q: so, twig turns out really bad, huh? what went wrong? A:

it is not all the same quality as the first 13 arcs. it turns out really bad the last 7 arcs are actually atrocious

the first thing that comes to mind if you ask me "what went wrong with twig" is that wildbow tries to write a trans woman as one of the main characters, and he does it badly. miss jessie ewesmont, my new favorite girl whom we need to get the fuck out of a wildbow novel. i think she was written extremely well--and in fact one of the top 2 characters in the book--prior to wildbow trying to handle her coming out. i'd even say the foreshadowing for it was perfectly well done and enjoyable. but after she comes out, during the last 7 arcs of the book?

you know how trans women are often victims of being treated as undervalued, disposable girlfriends, who are expected to coddle & cater to their partner's every whim while receiving effectively nothing in return? and you know how trans women are often treated as if they should be grateful for receiving (what is often less than) the literal bare minimum? and you know how trans women are frequently treated as if it's completely implausible for anyone to find them genuinely attracted or desirable, let alone worth pursuing or putting effort into?

yeah, the last 7 arcs of twig contain untold tens of thousands of words of wildbow reinventing all of that from first principles. this is a subjective experience, but it genuinely felt worse to read than amy dallon. at one point, the Disposable Trans Girlfriend in question literally says "i appreciate you not killing me" after she gets stabbed in her sleep by her boyfriend, sylvester. it's beyond parody. i've never said "WE HAVE TO HIT WILDBOW WITH HAMMERS" more in my goddamned life than while reading the last 7 arcs of twig. Transmisogyny Fucking City. it's a completely unforgivable and miserable reading experience.

and speaking of unforgivable and miserable reading experiences involving bigoted handling of a main character...onto Item No. 2 on the list of writing decisions that ruin twig! the ableism.

wildbow wants all of the lambs to--due to being ill-fated human experiments--have set expiration dates. one of the Main Points hanging over the entire narrative of twig is that every single lamb is, in all likelihood, going to die of complications from the way they've been experimented on before they're even twenty. two of them do die from those complications before the story is even halfway over: jamie's entire mind & sense of being is regularly taken out of his body, and one day, the doctors can't get it back in. gordon is a ~15yo with the heart problems of an elderly man, and they kill him while he's still young enough to make one of his last acts begging to see his dog one last time. it's good. it's tragic, it's interesting.

the problem is that wildbow's decision for how to depict sylvester starting to experience end-stage complications is to...turn sy into an ableist horror movie trope villain. sy hears The Devil telling him to kill his friends, and he just fuckin' blacks out and then comes to like "oh no...what's all this blood on my hands." i'm talking "mental illness is a Demon that can Possess You and make you an Evil Serial Killer" levels of ableist writing. like wildbow straight up turns sy into the joker from the movie joker. it's like that one "insaaaaynenene....assyyylum..... cray-ay-zeee...Insaayne" tiktok, you know the one. it's why he stabs his disposable trans girlfriend.

and it's baffling because: 1. wildbow wrote worm. you'd expect better from him when it comes to writing mental illness. but his skills apparently stop short of being able to depict a character with psychosis without making it cartoonishly ableist. but also, 2., sy doesn't only start becoming mentally ill at the end of arc 13! the previous arcs do very clearly establish that he's extremely codependent with the other lambs and needs continuous support to avoid experiencing life-threatening mental health episodes. he experiences dissociation, he struggles with severe memory loss, he acts erratically, he has self-injurious tendencies, he hallucinates, he talks to himself in public. prior to the start of arc 14, all of that is written with perfectly amenable levels of nuance and empathy towards sy. i wouldn't describe it as glowing representation, or anything, but it's by no means egregious.

but after arc 13? change of plans. now he's the joker from the movie joker, and we have to watch while his friends chain him to an armchair so he doesn't go around randomly cutting peoples hands off in a murderous fugue state.

it's bad. it's extremely bad to read.

the third item regarding how/why twig becomes terrible is a lot more simple to summarize: it becomes almost entirely about the previously mentioned sloggy fight scenes as opposed to about the lambs. and when it is about the lambs, it's often terrible to read anyway, due to the aforementioned issues with the handling of protagonist sylvester lambsbridge and his disposable trans gf. the plot becomes incoherent and uninteresting to the point where it's not even worth the effort of attempting to summarize how or why. everything that made twig good more or less entirely disappears from the story, and things that make it fucking awful are added.

Q: okay but lets say i have something unfixably wrong with me and i want to read twig anyway. wheres the best stopping point? arc 13? A: yeah it's arc 13. it's not a satisfying stopping point at all though. nor is the rest of twig prior to it really worth it. just don't waste your time. go read a good book, like pact, instead

Q: what the fuck is up with helen? A: :)

[fumifooms]

Thistle & Falin

Just my narrative of Thistle & Falin, collection of shippy thoughts and dynamic analysis. Creating some imagery and threads, etc. What if we both made devotion to our loved ones our purpose, what if we both hadn’t lived for ourselves in a long, long time. Who are we? Beyond who we love and our powers, what are we?

Background info: a short Falin analysis touching on Faligon and Thistle + an old thistlin post, compiling most of their moments. Here I delve into further thoughts but for base analysis of what they have in canon and in potential those are good starts. If you want I also have a full Falin analysis.

Disclaimer: Beyond the nebulous 1000 years I place Thistle as a young adult, and though I agree Falin mothers him to some degree I don’t think it’s unsimilar to the way that Marcille is a mom friend that sometimes mothers Falin and Izutsumi especially. Their relationship has layers like every other one in Dunmeshi, reducing it to being incestuously motherly or age discoursy to justify it being problematic is so funny to me, hello did you miss the mind control. Ah yes I love the 1090 yo with godlike powers being groomed by his chicken slave. You can have your own interpretation but canon is ambiguous enough, and dare I say intentionally ambiguous, that I have no qualms with not infantilizing Thistle, same with Yaad at the end of canon. I do ship Thistle and Falin, and although it’s in a nebulous qpr-or-other third secret thing situationship instead of conventionally romantic way, like, I puke on anything giving them a parental framing so don’t come shitting on my doorstep, kid-Thistle truthers be warned. Only nuance enjoyers allowed on this post. It’s valid if you’re uncomfortable with the ship!! Don’t make your issue others’ problem.

I thankfully finished my Falin analysis before posting this, but besides that I also have an analysis coming on the whole Thistle age thing which I think is interesting, beyond the well being poisoned there are things to explore there, idk in how long that’ll be done though. That’s all for plans that are relevant to this, now let’s get into it.

Part 1

So my favorite Falin things are Faligon + her sense of being like a pawn/misplaced, going on autopilot to follow the wishes of others, a feeling of identity being a burden and sort of fleeing from that, and her not really caring in the way/with the intensity that she’s "supposed" to (as per the points I go over in my Falin analysis). Meanwhile, Thistle has a lot of shit going on already but then there’s also how being a dungeon lord is highly wearing on his mind. As Faligon and as dungeon lord Thistle, the way they’re both so out of touch with reality in different ways holy shit?? They have power imbalance between them and it very much comes from mind control lol, but it’s also not something Thistle is fully aware of himself, because the powers are driving him unstable and he’s not even aware there’s someone in front of him really. He’s so out of it that he can’t even recognize that the dragon has been fused with a human and she’s so out of it we can’t even tell how conscious of her actions she is.

And then the interesting thing is that they’re kind of in it together… Mostly from Falin’s standpoint. We see that he does rely on the dragon increasingly so, hanging out with it, being saved by it and embraced by her etc. When he lets them both fall after breaking the web they were hanging from, he automatically, fully and wordlessly trusts her to catch him, instead of relying on magic or anything, and she does. Falin devotes herself to him but he’s devoted to The Cause which is just chasing ghosts at this point. But despite it all there’s a weird comfort here too… From the guy who in his last moment of lucidity reached out for someone, anyone’s hand, from the guy who hasn’t felt companionship in hundreds of years probably, hasn’t taken it slow and slept and eaten in who knows how long, from the girl who feels compelled to care after him like she’s always done with others… And the beast-ness allows her to have some freedom to figure herself out in a weird way, to simply enjoy being beside someone and doing anything her own whims tell her to.

It’s very destructive and weird and layered but like…. I can see the sliver where it works out. Where her kindness reaches him and he has a moment of lucidity where he sees her and it’s like, wait, who are you, you’re not the dragon?? Where finding someone else who feels just as messed up and devoted as them, like they’re just trudging along life like it’s a dream following their loved one, heals them a bit. Where caring for the other becomes a way to care for themselves too, a dark mirror of each other that shows you, oh, this is how bad it can get and I want to choose something else for myself actually. To grow to see the person standing in front of you, instead of only searching with your eyes in what way they’ll reflect on you. In helping each other, finding some companionship that’s weirdly vulnerable and self-healing. He gets her in touch with herself and her own needs again through the arc and conflict they have, and she gets him in touch with the world and his surroundings again. They have clashing ways to be selfless, very self-sacrificial from Falin meanwhike self-centered with Thistle (he ‘knows best’, ‘everything needs to be left to him’, etc etc, he needs the control, but he does it all for others, meanwhile Falin leaves that control to others and only grabs it for herself in exceptional cases like sacrificing herself to the dragon for Laios).

Like just let yourself be, damn!!! So then them being like, zombie mentally stunted babies kind of enhances that theme in a way too lol. The way they communicate together is very… Instinctive and basic, and I’d love to see how it could develop into a functional dynamic. They’re in ‘learning to be your own person’ kindergarten together to me. Thistle looking at her coloring wildly outside the lines and being like "you’re doing it wrong" and then you look at his and he colored everything a weird color. The precision is scary but then his crayon goes 1 mm out of the lines and he blows up into tears. Ok the metaphor has run its course

So yeah like the ship/brotp is very, them being isolated and against the world together and like… Slowly regaining their minds together. Getting their sense of identity grounded into them again. In my mind they have a 50k words adventure where they hang out and he slowly realizes there’s more to her than just dragon and she encourages him to dawdle around and eventually just play in water and shit and it’s like, starting to see life again beyond the laser focus you limited yourself to… And she’s allowed to just chill out and do whatever she wants besides the whole searching for Delgal thing. You can’t tie down a dragon! They are a duo they are an unit‼️ He’d have been fucked without her and at this point in time he sort of made her and he’s her world. Traumabonded kittens do not separate but it’s onesided in different ways haha. Honestly it’s sort of reflavored mickuro wait fuck…

If nothing else, they’re a very interesting dynamic to ponder. The depths of it all… I want to use them as a social experiment. I want them to stop to smell at the flowers and learn to work together… They’re master and servant they’re owner and pet they’re mothering and mothered (in a guardian hound way, in a mom friend way) they’re both incredibly (emotionally and physically) vulnerable in different ways…… Master and monster if you will. Mostly I see them as guardian & leader. Like I said I ship them but it’s not really romantic atp I think but it’s not quite qpr either it’s truly a weird secret third thing… What if we were sort of coworkers but also ?!!!>??????! You should hate me but you fiercely protect me I should appreciate you but I only see you as a tool WHAT IS GOING ONNN IN THERE

He wants to be protected even if he can’t really admit it. Here the catalyst was emotional distress moreso than physical threat. Notice how he lays there under her wing for a bit as he (refuses to) processes what Mithrun told him about Delgal dying and betraying him. She’s becoming his safety net, his comfort hound. Somehow, the both of them find they’re soothed in each other’s presence.

It kills me. Them being so toxic at the start of it, then somehow ambiguously just hinting towards how things could have went on to be better, could have been headed somewhere nice and healing and healthier, she dies and he dies everyone fucking dies and they forget each other and it ends there they never speak of each other again. Canon wanted me dead specifically. Like remember too that I was there when the last chapters where being released, my ass really was like "Oh I wonder how Falin will react seeing Thistle after being revived!" 🤡 But yess at least that means there’s a lot of Unsaid, a lot of space for speculation, and I want to see what could have been. I want to see it so so bad. It’s so interesting

Post-canon is also so interesting, where they’re sort of recovered but not fully not really, them actually getting to know each other… And she doesn’t remember him but he doesn’t remember her either, in a way they’ve never met even though they have, even though she was the first one on his side since so long, the first hint of companionship he’s had, companionship that he’s so unused to getting that he can’t even recognize it for what it is. He couldn’t even recognize a human standing in front of him!! He is so disconnected from others and the world!! He spoke to ghosts like they had no worries in the world and everyone was ok!! He’s out of touch, tone-deaf af!! Has always been tone-deaf!! Being tone-deaf when he was younger, a stick in the mud, caused him to be more isolated than he already was… Autism4autism, anyways—

It’s them not knowing why or how to express it but being drawn together, a bond forged together by the fire of circumstances and coincidences— or is it only that? No one can know for certain but there’s a grip they have on each other there somehow. Weird distant caring thing. I dont know who you are but I feel like I should know you

It’s like my headcanon that she doesn’t know why, but on her travels she feels something when she comes across wild thistle flowers… There are just faint remnants, whispers of feelings like ghosts.

They should be remnants in each other’s lives. A deja vu of a person in the way Falin hugs small dolls to her chest, or how Thistle reminisces of something when he sees bird feathers discarded on the ground. < This paragraph courtesy of @cabinette’s huge brain

He canonically writes poems btw… Poems would be such a good way for him to get in touch with himself again post-canon, find desires in again and get creative fulfillment. He should make poems about her. To explore and vent and express all the vague feelings and memories he has, both those of during canon and after canon. He doesn’t remember her but he remembers her, slivers of kind eyes and warm gentle hands and healing magic like a blanket…

Yaad, an unlicensed therapist but the best you're gonna get in fantasy land: Maybe you should try journaling.

And too the thing is their relationship with each other in a way is ONLY about themselves, even when Falin is being self-sacrifical it’s less about him and more about how she generally is, that sort of instinct to latch onto someone and just follow along with whatever they do and ask, meanwhile to Thistle she’s only ever been a factor in his plans. Idk idk them getting to that point where they see and know each other, stumbling into that through canon or actively working towards it post-canon, there’s weird beauty in that Like. Thistle cares about her because he’ll take anyone as long as they fit the job description well enough, he’s desperate to find Delgal and will grasp at straws to find him. In a similar way that he’ll reach for someone, anyone’s hand on the verge of death, she seeks to protect someone, anyone. That’s how she centers herself, makes someone her compass and her world. Falin wants to protect someone and Thistle would use anyone, pushed to the states they were in they would latch onto anyone for comfort (caring for him, grabbing Marcille’s hand).

Mirrors truly truly. And Thistle likes to shatter those, and silence anyone who tries to talk to him about reality, so then the option left is to be by him quietly and subtly gradually, gently (her specialty) nudge him in the right direction … Nooo but actually why did he shatter those mirrors. Very interesting to think about. Would seeing himself in others anger him?

I like to call him a ghost of who he was sometimes, a ghost of the past, he’s so haunted, and I think there’s fun imagery there too. The care she offers Thistle somewhat reminds me of the one she offers ghosts. I wonder if part of it is that she sees herself in ghosts, that she wants to offer them freedom and peace of mind she can’t get for herself.

And of course meanwhile on her end, the thistlin arc is also about growing self-respect. I don’t want to see Thistle as a lost cause in saying that her efforts are wasted on him, but being so permissive and invested in him is obviously not healthy for her. She needs to learn when to put her foot down

Oooh, just realized that choosing to eat in this scene was a big character moment all things considered. By eating she faltered in her task, stood up for herself and her needs, was selfish for once (/positive go get your damn food girl). She chose to eat. Anyways

I bet he’s the one who healed her wounds after the Shuro party fight. And on that note— it’s interesting he could change her form from Falin to Faligon without touching her isn’t it? Healing by everyone else like Marcille and Falin always required touch, physical contact between the healer and healee, which some like Chilchuck say is a negative, but… The dungeon lord not needing to touch to heal makes a nice metaphor for how isolating the powers are I think. Truly clinical instead of warm. Theme of community and freely offering affection in Dungeon Meshi etc etc. Like I said, Thistle is out of touch.

The way that he has the powers to change her form and heal and like soo much magic power but he can’t even realize when he’s hurting himself and she’s the one who has to heal him. He’s so fully devoted to the cause even when he acts selfishly that he neglects himself too, and she has to remind him to take care of himself, to eat, etc. That she feeds him. Eating is an act of love to yourself and to life. The berries, the curry, the soup that Thistle refuses to eat—

Do you see the vision. Do you see all the narrative relevance and themes and parallels of their dynamic. To chase ghosts, to cling onto them so they stay with you no matter how warped and ugly they get, and to soothe souls, purifying them and helping them depart for the afterlife… Both magic prodigies whose lives revolve around protecting and caring after their loved ones more than anything else. A family member who looks elsewhere while they are their whole world. They can flee their emotional issues together 🤝 Who are we? Beyond who we love and our power, what are we? I think about the way she cradled him in her arms just before they fell down into the dungeon all the time idk idk

^ End notes from the one fic I wrote about them so far: Slivers, on AO3. For a moment, they were both slivers of themselves, bound together.

Thistle feverishly holding onto ghosts of the past and his source of power, meanwhile Falin cradles the people she can protect in the now with the powers that reside in her… Him cradling his book, her cradling her master……… Parallels

Interlude

And yess it’s important to remember too, Thistle became a mage only after delgal asked… He had innate talent, but moreso than Falin it’s through studies that he learned to actually harness his magic etc. Idk I think it’s an interesting parallel that could have interesting stuff be done on it. People often characterize him as predominantly bratty but. He’s smart and composed he’s mainly smart and composed… He’s unstable and everything during canon was happening all at once with the winged lion being freed and Laios’ party and the canaries and agh </3 He can have a meltdown as a treat he’s smart and cool-headed if it wasn’t for the dungeon wearing on his mind ok… Obvi I love my chars with anger issues but saying he’s overly childish is having tunnel vision I think

Ok so the elephant in the room… First of all how present is Falin in Falugon exactly…… We have no clue. The end sequence does show her in purgatory with a dragon foot holding her down, which can easily be read as it suppressing her personality- with how it’s shown though it feels like she’d be fully suppressed by that? And we know that’s not the case, since not only does she recognize Laios and calls out to him, she hesitates to hurt Kuro because of the dog association, she’s excessively kind towards Thistle, the latter which her Adventurer’s Bible profile confirm to be "her kind nature remaining as the chimera". Maybe it’s a dream-like state? Maybe the dragon is the driving force with the instincts, and it’s only bits of Falin and her personality that show through? A state of mind very primal and not very think-y, even if Falin has enough brains to think of sharing the berries, gesturing and oh- of course, casting magic. No issues with controlling the human half of her body as well. To some degree, her and the dragon are working in tandem. My own preferred interpretation is the driven by instincts one, a state of mind like an actual dragon’s, which in my Falin analysis I delve into the significance of it for other parts of Dunmeshi too. So yeah, dreamlike mindless autopilot… I think exploring her pov as Faligon would go super hard. Aware of her surroundings but sort of disconnected with it, and disconnected from herself too, entirely living in the present… And like with her talking to Laios— the only time she speaks in her chimera form, a simple observation, "Laios, brother", sometimes her human thoughts peek through more sharply, short moments of lucidity… I think it’d be interesting to see an arc where as the chimera, she learns to share the "brainspace" more with the dragon.

It’s also unclear if Thistle had a say in how much of ‘Falin the human’ is in control? He very well might have suppressed her somehow when he changed her form to be more dragonlike. That might also be due to just getting back the dragon meat though— and the dragon meat itself might be why/how the brainspace is shared. There is a lot less of Falin’s body in the chimera than there is of the dragon, body mass wise. Dungeon Meshi is a lot about physicality so I wouldn’t be surprised with this reasoning. But there’s the whole mind control soul bond situation too…

The mind bond is another thing that’s left mostly to interpretation when it comes to the details. She feels compelled to listen to the dungeon lord’s orders as a monster created and owned by it, like the dragons Thistle summoned during the fight at his house, but again like we see with the dragons, if the monster has a "strong will" it can disobey to some level without being punished by the bind or anything. The eyes of the magician, the small wyverns, level-of-control wise can’t be accurate examples because they’re sort of like familiars, Thistle can see through their eyes in real time no matter where they are but it’s only this species as far as we know. So otherwise the mind bond is more subtle… There’s also the question of how much the control is shared between the dungeon lord and the demon, which again Thistle’s situation is exceptional because he managed to seal his demon in a book, presumably all the power goes through Thistle without the intermediate of the winged lion, though we do see he has some reach since he reaches Laios through his dreams. ANYWAYS all that to say. I do really ponder about how a dungeon lord's monsters get their orders, like... For the fight on the first floor, did Falin just feel Thistle's agony in her bones and came clawing and barging her way in desperately and angrily to protect him because of his distress, or did he more directly demand she come, consciously or not?! Idk, since Falin is actively protective of him unlike the dragons who reluctantly listen to him, her being very fast and intense about it doesn’t have to be forced… It’d be interesting if she can sense his feelings, wants or thoughts, bc I don’t think it’s as conscious as like, telepathically communicating "hey you, do this"…? Pondering, pondering. Mind bond <3 Soulbound <3

They’re both very trapped in the past… I wonder if as Faligon a lot of her mind goes back to memories of Laios and such, if she’s in a dreamlike state and not just sort of absent, where would her mind retreat... I don’t think so like I said I think she’s mostly driven by dragonlike mindlessness, but still… Thistle stuck in the search of Delgal, thinking back to everything they’ve shared and where it all went wrong obsessively, and Falin, sort of larping that she’s still beside Laios, not unlike how Thistle treats having the corpses of the royal family at his house like them being safe. Delusions. Idk I just want more character studies.

The metaphors in this truly… It’s not literal, like def not something that happens during canon at no point are they or could be ever atop a mountain of frames and paintings of the Golden Kingdom’s royal family and fine art lmaoo, so then like the meaning behind it all… She offers him reprieve, an outsider from all the Golden Kingdom expectations and drama, just someone warm to lean on, someone who’ll stay…….. I love Faligon pushing him to rest and nap so much. Man has first nap in a thousand years. Feather duvet like a nice warm pillow. The peace she offers him man……. Live in the present bbygirl Unfortunately it doesn't help. Look at them eyebags… Man needs to sleep!!

Part 2

^ This panels drives me crazy It’s the possessivity. It’s the "my". It’s the "stealing".

What if you have fear of abandonment and think you have to prove your worth for people to stay by your side. What if belonging to someone makes you feel like you belong and you feel loved and soothed by it lowkey, feel like it makes things easy. What if I was bought as a slave and servant but I was adopted into a pretty loving family. What if ownership is what love looks like to me. What if that’s why I have no problem rationalizing keeping people against their will in a glorified kingdom-prison, because that’s just what someone with the power who Knows Better does, and… Did he always call her his dragon hello? Feelings

He is not letting it go damn He hates when people mess with what's his. Or Delgal’s.

But imagine. The dragon is like, the last thing he has. The Golden Kingdom has moved on from him, everything is shit, but his dragon is the last thing he still has some realm of like. Ownership over. But that ownership is kinda just his sense of belonging. His role, his duty.  So it’s like "Don’t steal the last thing I have" especially if post-canon… It’s thinking from his time as a jester bought into a loving family that ownership is natural in love and care. It’s thinking that’s the way you get to belong beside someone, beside earning that through achievements and being useful and capable. Everything is being stolen away from him. Control and things and people and even the importance he has to the Golden Kingdom as he becomes part of the background & past history and the kingdom switches into new hands aka Laios’…

My dragon, not the dragon. I do like to imagine especially after the berries he’s starting to feel differently about her. He keeps being like "you’re acting odd, dragon". His dragon is special. She’s not just another regular monster npc to easily replace, there’s human contact in there. His dragon just for him. <3

I do think Falin has some issues with like, asking to be with the people she loves, feeling safe in asking for that, that she’s worth that. She follows them and is quiet and just takes the crumbs of love that they offer, she doesn’t ask Marcille at the academy to spend lunches with her, doesn’t ask anything of her distant busy father and ill anxious mother… The person she did ask things of, Laios, who she always asked to go travel the world with him and whatnot, left her behind. Like how Delgal left Thistle. Theme of leaving </3 theme of family and abandonment issues </3 So she just follows and cares after them and makes herself useful and is grateful she gets to be beside them at all. So yeah what I’m saying is being owned/belonging to someone might feel yeah like, belonging. Being One Person's. He’s seen her at her worst and most bloody and raw, and still wants her? Very comforting And especially post-canon he doesn’t need her to be witty or useful or such, he just needs her love and that’s what she has lots to give.

Do you think Falin wants to be needed… Do you think she’s a little restless if she doesn’t feel like she is, like she thinks just like Laios people might leave you behind and you never see them again.  It’s also because of what she said, that she put others before herself, that she just followed/imprinted on her parents/Laios/Marcille. She avoided conflict, she wanted to be liked and live in peace. The only times she was selfish, she hurt people (left school for Laios, sacrificed herself for them, teleported them out despite possibly hurting people on the surface), so she chooses to be selfless instead. "One of the most selfish things i've ever done was barely even for the sake of myself" - Falin and Toshiro both hah Falin is often told she doesn’t care the right way or not enough, you’re cutting classes Falin, I’m upset you left me and you don’t even seem to think it’s a big deal Falin, you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself to save me (her not noticing her ostracization in her village wasn’t told to her but I’m including it also). And with Toshiro when considering her proposal, she was worried to accept because yeah it’s have been convenient but she wouldn’t be reciprocating his feelings in the way he wants and expected her to with what he asked of her… And she’s worried it wouldn’t be right… Bc she doesn’t care about the proposal on the same level he does….. I just think that’s neat I think that Falin caring both too little and too much, with laser focus on Laios & Marcille neglecting even herself, is a big part of her. She focuses on others and their emotional needs so so much always, babygirl be selfish for a while…

Thistle’s interaction with Laios is interesting too, especiaoly when Kaios heals him. How he looks at his shoulder, surprised and confused… Guy who's used to not having his personal needs met because he's so busy doing everything for the people he cares about receives care??? Woah that’s crazy Something something being so unused to human contact and affection that you don’t know how to process it and don’t recognize it when it happens/stares you right in the face. Thistle the Toudens are gonna make you open up ur heart to humans again on god…

What if… He doesn’t want to admit she’s not the dragon. If he admits it’s not the dragon that means giving up some control… This was not in his plan, he doesn’t know how well he can control a chimera rather than a dragon, it’s weakness it’s vulnerability it’s feeling like he’s losing his grip on everything again and thus losing his place and purpose. Hmm…

Finding yourself through someone else… Because defining yourself through others is what you’ve always done… Yeah. Yeah.

I do love it tying into Falin’s arc of finding herself. Like, she doesn’t remember her time as a chimera, she just remembers this guy she has conflicted but fond feelings of for some reason, so say if they travel post-canon, traveling with him would also be a way to figure out more how she’s feeling, and then there’s how when looking at him she gets the feeling that it’s been a long time he hasn’t lived for himself either… And like for him traveling is about seeing the world a bit too. Seeing it not as something to control or always dangerous but something to explore, and just enjoy the little things instead of worrying about the court. And just. Aghhhh. He hasn’t had someone on his side for centuries. Sighs. Of course Yaad also becomes that largely but traveling post-canon with Falin… Would love to see that in fancontent

Them growing to SEE each other, with the film in front of their eyes slowly fading away. Both of them coming out of it more genuine than they’d been even before meeting, before becoming warped, growing more comfortable in their skin and with the thought of connecting with others. It’s the mutual care <33 it’s having been on each other’s side at both your ugliest <3 Unconventional caring...

Toshiro saying "you can’t tie down a dragon" is always so good… Someone should so do stuff with that. "But you can tame it" / "I tried to once" / "but she chose to stay with me anyways"… Musical theme of How to Train your Dragon starts playing in the distance

When/after they get together, I feel like their relationship isn’t something they like to label… If anything it’s like. Partner. Or calling each other by name… Him calling her my dragon, except now it’s warm and personal would be so. Aughh <3 But then that just also makes the first time he calls her by name so huge.

Conclusion

They and their relationship is weird and unusual but that’s just how they are, and how they need to accept themselves (again: as they are) and roll with it! And make a place in the world for them anyways!

Magic forced them to be vulnerable in front of each other but it’s them who have to like… Be pushed out of their passivity and do something with that vulnerability.

BROTHERSSS THEY’RE BOTH ALL ABOUT BROTHERS. LEAVING. OUT OF TOUCH WITH REALITY. OUT OF TOUCH WITH THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN IDENTITY. In a twisted way only the other would understand what it’s like.

Thistlin is so crazy, in humanizing you it humanizes me, in recognizing you for what you are I get more back in touch with the world again.

Flighted birds have hollow bones. With freedom there are risks and drawbacks. Thistle was Falin’s.

It’s not everyday you can have a ship where both characters are out of touch with reality and others and themselves and have this weird almost innate bond of her being compelled to protect him and care for him and him holding onto that unknowingly… Even if he didn’t need to, keeping her by himself and sitting on her while he plans and has a panic attack….. And also he owns her and robbed her of her freedom & body & full mind but she still wuvs him. Weird intimacy with the guy who horrifically changed you into something else, and yet is not even aware he has done it.

Falin loves nature and Thistle is named after a flower… Her post-canon coming across wild thistles and feeling a rush of fondness and she doesn’t know why… Thistles have thorns, but they taste sweet. Just gotta peel them off and enjoys the sweet taste of it once it’s open <3 Eat it like them honeysuckles

Slice of life 40k words thistlin sitcom I need you. Don’t make me write it myself. Sob

You are so so close sweetie…

wutiwant

I don't know what I want But I know it's not this These words don't mean nothing Once they left my lips More awake inside of my dreams Was that really you, next to me? Give me what I want, who am I supposed to please? Who am I supposed to please? Who am I? Who am I? I? Give me what I want Give me what I want

Some links, since the pair is small enough that finding stuff for them can be hard: Falin & Thistle search on pixiv Falin & Thistle search on danbooru Ao3: Thistle x Falin, Thistle & Falin Ship names: ファリシス / シスファリ. Thistlin

My own spotify playlists: Thistle & Falin, Thistle, Falin

source v

[freesia-writes]

Ch 20: Keytoll

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.6k

Author's Note -- I couldn't resist publishing this a lil early... I'm excited for the next few chapters!!

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“Hunter!” Lyra burst through his shop door. “Hunter?” she peered around the counter, stepping back in surprise as he appeared from the back. “Hey! Sorry... Um… Listen, I have to go. Urgently. There’s an old friend of mine that I’ve been trying to find for years, and she just contacted me and is trying to find a safe place to disappear. I’m taking the next shuttle to Keytoll to meet her.”

“Alright,” Hunter said slowly. His brow furrowed. “Though last I heard, Keytoll is a fairly popular outpost for the Empire… Not exactly a good idea…”

“I have no choice,” she said, with a fervence that hinted at a much greater depth. 

“You trust this person?”

“I’d give my life for her in a heartbeat.”

“Wow. That’s big talk for you.”

“I mean it.” Her earnestness was compelling, and Hunter nodded slowly, eyes darting from her to the ground as he considered the options. 

“You gonna be safe?”

“I mean… I’ll do my best,” she said with a helpless shrug. “I’ve gotten this far.”

“Want some backup?”

“What?” She looked up at him quizzically.

“Want… Some help? A second pair of eyes? Extra protection?” He was offering it as vaguely as possible, but realized with each passing word how much he wanted her to ask him to come along.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that,” she said, averting her own eyes now. “This is my own issue, not your burden.”

“I know,” he nodded, untying his apron with a calm intentionality now. “But if you’ll have me, I’m coming.”

“Okay… Um, thanks. That really means a lot. But at any point if you change your mind, it’s okay…” She shifted anxiously from foot to foot, still nervously staring at the floor. 

“I’ll meet you at the station,” he confirmed with a nod, reaching out to grasp her hand as she turned to flit back out the door. They exchanged a meaningful glance, and he squeezed her hand before releasing it and watching her leave.

* * * 

The off-world transport was a clunky old thing that seemed to be under maintenance more often than it was actually running. It had a few routes to nearby systems, where travelers could catch a ride to more popular destinations, and Keytoll was a backwater planet in the Outer Rim that, aside from being a transportation hub, didn’t have much going for it. It was decently populated in its capital city, which shared a name with the planet, but the rest of it was dusty wasteland. The city was full of tall clay buildings that rose in slightly rounded squares and rectangles from the center outward. 

Hunter had put together a bit of a disguise, a fabric wrap concealing his head and face except for his eyes and a thick, dusty cloak hanging from his shoulders. He wanted to be extremely forgettable, and in the arid climate of Keytoll, he’d look just like anyone else. Lyra already wore neutral, simple clothing, but he was surprised to see that she’d gone to great lengths to braid her hair up around her head so its length was impossible to tell, and the dramatic makeup on her face was definitely a contrast from the usual. Her eyes were framed by bold swipes of black that curved up at the ends and her eyelids were brushed with smoky dark gray. The gentle shape of her lips was made to look much fuller with liner and a splash of deep red. Everything about her features was not only accentuated but changed, and he was impressed with just how much she looked like an entirely different person by taking a completely opposite approach than he had.

She took his arm as they boarded the shuttle, the look in her eyes intense and difficult to read. They sat in the back where they could see everyone getting on, and he could feel anticipation coursing through her veins. 

“You… uh… You look…” he began, but she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Like an underworld performer, I know.”

“Well, I mean…” he paused, deciding between two responses. “You’re the one who said it.”

She laughed, relaxing a tiny bit, and stole a glance at him before returning to her vigilant scan of the other passengers. “How did you know what they wear there? This is impressively accurate.” She gave the cloak a little tug, unable to resist one last lingering look at his hawkish eyes. 

“Tech,” he said simply.

“Ah. Handy.”

“So do you want to tell me a little more about what we’re getting into?” he asked, his voice a little constricted. They’d both been so slow to open up to one another, but the way they’d nestled into each other’s lives and hearts was undeniable. He still wanted to respect her privacy, but this was a notably different sort of activity for her, and his curiosity was getting the better of him. And, more importantly, any mission needed solid intel and strategy to be successful. The ship’s engines came online, shuddering into motion as the boarding ramp folded up and the takeoff announcement began to play. 

“Breslin is… a dear friend. Family, really. We got separated when we left Coruscant, and I was afraid she was dead from the way she just disappeared and never responded to my communication. She… um… worked with me on Coruscant, and I think she was feeling the same need for a change of pace when she left. But we’d talked about going somewhere together, and then she just… vanished.”

Hunter shifted in his seat, wildly uncomfortable with so many factors to consider. “So she suddenly found you again, now?”

“Yes, and her note was short, but it just sounded like she needed some help.”

Silence sat heavy between them for a while, Hunter feeling torn between so many courses of action. He hated going into a situation without his squad and some idea of what lay ahead, but it seemed like a relatively harmless sort of escapade, all things considered. There was a strong sense of protectiveness around Lyra, but he also had a deep desire to keep Xylo as unnoticed as possible, and each new person that learned of its existence was a potential threat to its safety and anonymity. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” Lyra repeated, her nerves apparent in every movement. 

“I know,” he assured, reaching over to take her hand in his. “It’s fine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen any action. Might be good for me.” He didn’t believe a word of what he said.

“Old habits die hard, eh?” she attempted, referring to what he’d shared about his time as a mercenary of sorts. 

“Something like that.”

When they arrived in Keytoll, they made their way through the city, keeping their heads down and appearing as inconspicuous as possible. The city was bustling with activity, species of every kind shoving their way through narrow streets and kicking up dust as they went. It was just after dinnertime, so the restaurants were releasing full and happy patrons to find their way home for the night, and Hunter kept his hand on the blaster at his side, sharp eyes scanning constantly. They arrived at their destination: a very old-looking hotel on one of the edges of a small courtyard, and after a brief check-in under a fake name, Lyra opened the door to their rented quarters for the evening. 

It was a surprisingly comfortable and clean-looking room compared to the rest of the hotel and the dilapidated buildings around it. There was a very basic kitchenette, a table with two chairs, a couple of windows facing different directions in the corner, a tiny couch facing a holoscreen, and, tucked in the back near the door to the refresher, a fairly large bed. Each lost in thought about certain aspects of their accommodation, they pushed their suitcases off to the side and locked the door, ambling about the room aimlessly after shedding most of their disguises.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Lyra said abruptly, fidgeting with her purse strap as she did when nervous. 

“Maybe half of you will,” Hunter chuckled, sitting on one side of it to demonstrate just how small it was. “We’ll figure it out.”

A pause. 

“So what’s the plan with the friend?” he continued. 

“She’s meeting us tomorrow morning. The shuttle schedules didn’t really line up so this was the best we could do. Then she’ll come back with us on the afternoon departure.”

“Sounds simple enough,” he nodded. “Where’s the meeting?”

“She said she’d send her hotel coordinates when she arrives and we can figure out a place in the middle, or just meet back at the station. Whichever is safest.”

“Mmkay.” He stretched, sidling up to the windows in the corner to scope out the surroundings. “So, until then…”

“We eat!” Lyra snickered, rummaging in her back for the few ingredients she’d brought for a simple pasta dinner. “I figured it would be better than going out…”

Hunter grinned, shaking his head fondly as she also produced a bottle of wine and began digging in the cupboards for anything to put it in. Two plastic cups and a little while later, they were nestled on the tiny couch while pasta sauce simmered on the stove. 

“What do you miss most about your action days?” Lyra asked, absently swirling the red liquid in her small cup. A sigh escaped Hunter’s lips as memories sprang to mind indiscriminately, each one demanding attention as much as the rest. But they all seemed gray… heavy… so much pain and loss that had gotten him to where he was now. “Sorry, maybe that’s not fun to talk about right now,” Lyra added sheepishly.

“No, there’s just… a lot,” he began. “I mean, not a lot that I miss. But some of it, I suppose. It was fairly cut and dry… Here’s the job, you take it, you do it. Then you wait around until the next one.”

“Sounds pretty monotonous.”

“Heh. I mean, if every mission being a different objective with a risk to your life in a new way is monotonous, then sure.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to downplay the dangers,” she corrected quickly. “I just mean… there’s not a lot of freedom for you to choose your own path? Although I guess you could at any point, since the jobs are all on an individual basis.”

“Yeah… But we were kinda in a groove for a while. And,” he hesitated, considering the similar conversation he’d had with Omega months ago. “It’s a little simpler because you have one straightforward purpose. Now… I don’t know. I sometimes feel like I’m living a lie.”

Lyra’s heart rate picked up noticeably, and she tilted to be able to face him more fully. “How so?”

“So much of my life was constant chaos, I never had much time to sit around and make my own choices. All this stuff, as wonderful as it is,” he noted, lightly stroking the back of her arm, “just feels… Too simple. Like it’s all going to fall to pieces somehow. And I’ll have been too distracted by all the fluff to have seen it coming or be able to prevent it.”

“I mean…” She struggled to find the right words. “What’s the alternative? Bounty hunting for the rest of your life? You’d always have to be looking over your shoulder.”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “Maybe I’m just too… whatever… to believe that it could really be this pleasant. 

“Should I try to make it less pleasant?” she asked, her attempt at humor slightly hampered by her strong undercurrent of discomfort at his words. 

“And how would you go about that?” he challenged, mildly amused.

“We could always get that girl to come and beat you up again.”

“Cheap shot,” he grumbled, elbowing her gently in the side as she chuckled, relaxing a bit more into her normal self. “Although I do think I need to exercise more,” he continued, “because my pants are getting a little too tight with all your delicious cooking.”

“We can start hiking up the mountain instead of cuddling on the couch all the time,” she suggested. 

“That sounds terrible.”

“It really does.”

It was far later than usual when they finally sat down for dinner, the cozy details of their homes notably missing from the generic layout of the hotel room. They ate rather quickly around some halting conversation then wordlessly began getting ready for bed. After locking herself in the refresher for a while, Lyra emerged, having cleaned off all her makeup and loosened her hair back into a braid down the middle of her shoulder blades. She had a thin robe wrapped around herself, the hems of pajama pants poking out the bottom, and Hunter felt a wave of affection at the sight.

He’d brushed his teeth and washed his face in the kitchen sink, quickly changing into soft black pants and a long-sleeved henley while she was in the refresher, and his hair fell in loose waves around his face. Lyra busied herself by plugging in her commlink on the nightstand next to the bed, then, with nothing left to do, they stared at each other for a few moments, each fidgeting slightly while waiting for the other to talk. 

“The bed is pretty big,” she observed, keeping her face carefully neutral. Hunter nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I don’t think anyone should sleep on that couch,” he added. 

Moving as they spoke, they found themselves each on a side of the bed, pulling the covers back tentatively before climbing in. Lyra paused to remove her robe, revealing a ridiculously endearing pajama set with long pants, a loose button-up top, and a dainty floral pattern. Hunter hid a smile, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, and Lyra did the same for a few minutes before finally rolling on her side to face him. 

“I mean… We’ve slept on the couch before… Why does this feel so different?” she confessed, and he noticed the flush on her cheeks and the way she tucked her hands protectively in front of her chest. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he offered, lifting an arm to invite her in, trying hard to appear breezy despite his own pounding pulse and the intoxication of his senses from all that the situation entailed. She hesitated for a moment, subtly biting her lip before slowly scooting across the bed to tuck herself against his side, nestling her head into the soft crook of his shoulder and resting a hand on his chest. His arm held her gently, other hand laying atop hers, and he sighed in deep contentment. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she murmured, nuzzling a little closer to his neck and sending a little shiver down his spine. He hummed his agreement, trying to focus on anything but the softness of her body pressed along his and the calm affection that radiated from her hand where it lay over his heart. 

* * * 

Early in the morning, the quiet buzzing of the commlink woke Lyra with a start, and she rolled over to look at it, casting a quick glance back at Hunter’s sleeping form. His shirt was twisted, pulled tight against the curve of his side as it rose and fell steadily. She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the words on the screen, then got up and snuck into the refresher, emerging a few minutes later fully dressed.

She tiptoed over to Hunter’s side of the bed, unable to resist brushing a tendril of hair from his face, and she bent down slowly, caressing the side of his cheek as he remained unmoving. Indescribable depths of emotion swirled in her eyes as she gazed at his features, leaning in to press one last kiss to his temple. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes in a singular, poignant moment of regret before tearing herself away and slipping out the door.

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Song: “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi

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@littlefeatherr

[eats-a-berry]

i think for me part of the struggle of enjoying toshiro is how his flaws are actually really interesting and i like to think about them as i analyze stuff, but its literally become the same as how it feels for people who like laios where like there's a gut feeling of being defensive... i want to be able to talk about this stuff and the commentary of his character without that looming sense of hate, where it feels that if i acknowledge if something is a flaw its just going to make people hate him more, instead of being interesting or sympathetic, yknow? it makes things harder when i'm trying to be objective about it, a sense of guilt almost, and it makes me feel sort of frustrated when people can't see the same things that i do, where the things i find compelling in a character might be the same reason people hate them... cus it really gets tiring, even though it's, y'know, its fine if people don't like him. the odds are pretty much stacked against his favor on here. but i feel like there's a difference in talking about his issues as someone who cares about him and knows his character inside and out and in people who can't seem to even get all the details lined up to have any sympathy for his situation. but its okay. because in my heart ryoko kui is speaking to me and thanking me for analyzing every last bit of her guy with care even with his very unfortunate spotlight

[acti-veg]

do you have any advice for someone (me) who spent most of her life as the world's #1 zoo defender but is now majorly questioning them? i now aim to be a field conservationist, but for years on end i wanted to be a zookeeper, and i fully believed in the educational benefits zoo proponents are always touting. but after doing a ton of research into how harmful captivity is on animals, the horrific captures required to bring them into captivity, the compelling evidence for nonhuman personhood for vertebrates, and the educational failures of zoos (as well as reading the excellent essay by derrick jenson you've posted about in the past), i'm now super conflicted. i can't deny the big impact zoos had on me as a child, though. sorry to just dump in your inbox like this but this issue is driving me nuts so i figured i'd ask someone who is also passionate about it

For many people, the hardest thing to give up in their journey to going vegan is something like cheese, or eggs. For me it was zoos. Even when I was eating fully plant-based, getting rid of my animal fabrics slowly and avoing anything animal-tested, it took some time for me to do the research and really see this place where so many of my happiest childhood memories occured was actually pretty harmful. I was right where you are now.

That essay encouraged me to reframe my thinking in terms of who is actually benefiting from the arrangement. Conservation of animals in captivity who will never realistically be released - what are we conserving exactly, and for who? Education, but for who? What do we actually learn from zoos, really? I looked at the most notable achievements of zoos, and wondered if they could have been achieved without putting animals in captivity for public viewing. I found that some of the most significant conservation stories came not from zoos, but charities, private breeding programs, rewilding and land conservation

. Similarly, documentaries educate just as well as zoos do, if not far better, because the animals we are seeing are exhibiting their natural behaviour, as opposed to their atypical, stressed and often depressive captive counterparts. There just isn't a great deal we can learn from observing animals in wholly unnatural surroundings, they develop completely abnormal social structures, often zoochosis, and we have built several fundamental misunderstandings of wild animal behaviour on assumptions made by exhibiting behaviour that exclusively occurs in captive animals.

There is just no reason why conserving animals and educating the public should need animals to be on display for our amusement, and for the profit of their owners. What good zoos do can be done far better by institutions who do not have the vested interest of profiting from their incarceration, and can conserve and learn from animals in their natural environment.

[spaceorphan18]

More thoughts on XM97 - because of course I have more thoughts...

Doing some more reflection, because this is what I do during hyperfixation, apparently.

It helps to write things down and get them out of my head, I suppose. Honestly, it'll be nice to get past the last episode, because then I can compartmentalize and just push the thing away until season 2 (if the finale gives me any reason to want to come back).

DeMayo went on another tweeting spree (I just keep an eye on these things because I get curious) and during this particular bout, I feel like I've got somethings clarified. And I think my own personal frustrations come down to - the ideas of writing and creating vs fan expectations.

Overall, I do think that XM97 is a solidly good (or at least entertaining) show. The animation is good. The voice cast is good. And the ideas they are using, in theory, are more adult and mature and nuanced than the original kids' show ever was (which, I'll give TAS some credit - dug deeper a lot of times when most kids' cartoons of the time didn't).

One of the biggest issues for me has been execution. First of all, the show is way too short for the amount they're trying to pack in here. It almost feels like they wanted to do everything on their wishlist because if they didn't, they wouldn't get the chance to do it. And it feels, muddied... They really needed a full season to unpack a lot of this.

The thing about Rogue and Gambit's story.... I get the 'kill your darlings' strategy of writing. In fact, I agree that good stories are messy and have conflict and you should always put your heroes through the worst. I feel like there was a better way to do the story (I believe) they're telling.

I don't think Magneto needed to be a part of it at all, and the triangle just feels... forced in a lot of ways. I understand that they went there to give Remy some heartbreak along the way, but I truly believe the two of them, with their own issues, and the two of them being in an undefined relationship with complicated issues over touch -- still could have resulted in compelling TV, and still would kept the devastation of Gambit's death.

Episode 5 is still my favorite, and despite my distaste for the whole Magneto side of it, I think the writing there was top notch, and still the best this show has been. I get, though, that they wanted to have Rogue and Gambit "break up" for the impact to hit harder, for Rogue to feel much more guilt once he died, for that last line to be even more heartbreaking.

So, the easiest route was to add the Magneto of it all. Episode 5 is brilliant in a vacuum. But in greater context there are other ways you can get there. And, no, Magneto wasn't ultimately needed. Rogue still could have had regrets, there still could have been heartbreak, there are always things you just don't say before a tragedy.

The thing about it, had they set this up correctly, and in a way that was more satisfying and didn't involve third parties? You may have gotten way more of the Rogue and Gambit fans on board. (And I'll get to the fan side of this in a second.)

See, TAS flirted with Rogue and Gambit's romance but never pushed it too far. Not only was it a kids' show, but Rogue probably would have never had her powers under control and it just was never going to go that far. Meanwhile, the comics have moved way beyond where TAS was. Rogue and Gambit's relationship has evolved a lot in thirty years - way past the tragedy, past the will-they/won't-they, past the break ups and reunions, and in the comics, Rogue and Gambit are a relatively healthy (for a comic book couple) couple of best friends and old marrieds. They're story is so far beyond what they once were that going back to TAS feels... odd.

So, the show starting in this place where TAS left off feels awkward in a lot of ways. There's a lot of expectations layered onto this show, but the show -- being limited by external factors, can't really handle all of it.

I don't think the first few episodes of the show did enough to show the sheer strength of Rogue and Gambit's connection and relationship. And part of that was time and part of that is because it's a sequel to a show set thirty years ago and part of it is time compression and part of it is the writing wanting to leave some vague open-endedness to the relationship so that Episode 5 could work.

And thus Episode 5 feels a bit jarring. It's way more a mature script. There's much more going on in those relationships that we haven't seen set up. Not really. And it's almost relying too much on - things that were mildly set up in the original and the heavy history of the comics.

Which leads me to what has happened afterwards. I think that in a world sans the Magneto of it all, you still get a Rogue who is absolutely heartbroken over the loss of her love. She would still go dark. She would still seek vengeance. She would still wrap herself up in that trench coat and wreck havoc on everyone until she ultimately succumbed to her own grief and eventually dealt with it in one way or the other.

(The part that I just don't agree with -- besides giving up the trench coat, which I know is symbolic in gesture -- is her running off to play Colossus in Fatal Attractions. Which, again, is why they did add the Magneto of it all, but I'm digressing.)

Anyway, this leads me to the fan expectations, and why it does feel so raw for a lot of us. Rogue and Gambit have never really had their time to shine. The films are full of mischaracterizations and limited (very limited) appearances. The other TV shows never let the relationship shine. And even in the comics it felt like forever for the X-Office to take them seriously.

This TV show felt like an opportunity to start fresh. To be excited about something. To get behind the characters we love and celebrate them. We can still break their hearts. We can still even kill them off. But give us a reason to care!

But instead of building that relationship with us fans, it went a different route. And now we feel heartbroken and angry, instead of just heartbroken. Gambit fans - who get shit on so often - get one bright of moment of glory before a death that feels somewhat hollow when you start to realize it was in purpose of someone else's story. Rogue fans - have the internet hating her with a passion. It feels like once again - being set up only to fail.

It feels hurtful, even when, I truly believe, that was not the writers' intentions. Make your characters go through hell - yes, but you have to have your audience on your side to make it impactful.

I don't really know where the show goes from here. There's either going to be closure or a cliffhanger. What I'd really like, though, is some sort of hope.

Because I get real life sucks. And I get that we often reflect in our fiction that it does. But we're talking about a cartoon about superheroes. We're talking about escapism at its finest. I love complicated and messy and nuanced and sometimes even heartbreaking stories -- but I also want something that makes it all worth while.

There is still one episode left, and I'm curious as to where it's going to go. Because at the end of the day, X-Men has always been about hope, too.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week. 

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change.  Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work. 

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it. 

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in. 

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered. 

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer. 

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before. 

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you. 

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line. 

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss. 

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life. 

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms. 

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case. 

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone. 

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour. 

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped. 

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess. 

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you. 

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights. 

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form. 

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet. 

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal. 

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan. 

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you. 

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office. 

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious. 

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat. 

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered. 

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale. 

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home. 

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance. 

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired. 

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount. 

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’. 

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me. 

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had. 

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet. 

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark. 

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight. 

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline. 

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you? 

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone. 

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.” 

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you. 

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time. 

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!” 

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.” 

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it. 

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.” 

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister. 

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.” 

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.” 

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?” 

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.” 

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera. 

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name. 

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass. 

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands. 

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you. 

“You were my boss.” 

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?” 

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat. 

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground. 

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.” 

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.” 

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet. 

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command. 

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin. 

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon. 

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath. 

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot. 

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation. 

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage. 

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.” 

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?” 

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.” 

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry” 

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.” 

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time. 

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone. 

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape. 

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“ 

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“ 

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece. 

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath.  “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.” 

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness. 

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you. 

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[zootopiathingz]

My issue with Vaggie and her character

(TW: Opinion‼️)

I’ve been wanting to make a rant about this for a while and I’m sure other people have already done it, but I figured I might as well share my thoughts because I like to think my opinion matters to some people lmao. Anyway, I wouldn’t read this if you’re like a die-hard Vaggie/chaggie fan, but that’s up to you!

So I’m sure some of you by now heard the news that Charlie and Vaggie are getting another duet in S2 which apparently will be about their sex life. Which like, ok sure. In a show like this I expected a sexual-themed song to happen eventually. Here’s my issue with this though;

If you need to make an entire musical number about how much your main couple fucks, because of the severe lack of any hints of a sex life between them in the first season, then it’s not a good pairing, and this feels like a desperate attempt to give them chemistry that they just don’t have.

I saw someone say something similar on Twitter and I really couldn’t agree more. Some of you are going to say “you only say that because you don’t ship Chaggie!!” You’re right. I don’t ship them. Because there’s nothing there for me to root for. Like, at all.

Let’s start off with the fact that Vaggie has no personality outside of being Charlie’s girlfriend. I tried to like her character, I really did, but she’s honestly the most forgettable to me in the entire show. Some of you might disagree with me, but be honest and answer me this; can you name one interesting thing about her character that doesn’t involve her relationship with Charlie? And what she adds to the plot besides being Charlie’s “voice of reason”? (Which she’s not, she basically just gentle-parents Charlie into not doing things that Charlie wants to do)

Let’s take a look at some of the other characters in our main cast: Charlie, princess of Hell, desperately tries to help other people even when nobody believes in her cause. Alastor is a powerful overlord who’s supposedly helping out with the hotel, but clearly has ulterior motives that have yet to be revealed. Angel Dust is a famous porn star in an abusive relationship with his employer and is on a path to redemption himself. Husk is a former overlord who lost all his power to his gambling addiction and is now being forced to play bartender. Lucifer, the king of all Hell, a fallen angel who lost his will to dream, a shell of his former self. For fuck’s sake, even Lilith—whom we have yet to even hear speak—has a more compelling plot; she’s been gone for seven years, she’s in Heaven having made a deal with Adam and we have no idea why.

And what does Vaggie do exactly? She gives Charlie advice, she helps run the hotel, she.. occasionally threatens to hurt people with an angelic weapon (you know, the thing that kills souls for good?)

Ok so she’s also a fallen angel—a former exorcist in Adam’s army that leads to exterminations. Now that could have been an interesting plot point. It does explain a little why she’s so aggressive and skilled in combat. The scene with her practice-fighting Carmilla for answers was probably the most interesting scene that prominently features her. And even then, Carmilla kinda steals the spotlight for me, as I’m actually way more invested in her character and her background (seriously, why is she so knowledgeable about angelic weapons and Vaggie—the literal former angel herself—isn’t?)

This was honestly a twist I didn’t see coming, and it had so much potential to add more to Vaggie’s personality and character as a whole. Seriously, losing her wings and her fucking eyeball must’ve been severely traumatic. She might hold some grudge against Adam and Lute for abandoning her and tossing her aside like she was nothing, even after all that work she put in to be one of the top exorcists. She could maybe miss Heaven and even if she’s content living in Hell, a part of her will still always long to go back to what was once her home.

…But no, the entire reason she’s a fallen angel is just to create conflict between her and Charlie. And that barely lasted a whole episode.

Again, everything about her and her ‘personality’ all narrows down to Charlie. Not only is this a terrible foundation for the main couple of the series, it’s also just extremely unhealthy realistically speaking. Even episode 3 alludes to the toxicity of Vaggie thinking she has no purpose outside of helping and protecting Charlie. And I find it funny that Charlie is so taken aback, but she doesn’t actually say anything to correct Vaggie, because…it’s true.

It’s very frustrating for me to say this. Vaggie had so much potential to be at least a somewhat interesting character, but instead she’s always resorted to being Charlie’s partner/sidekick. Ik this has a lot to do with Vivziepop being terrible at writing female characters but imma be real, even Loona interests me more and they almost have the exact same traits (grumpy, aggressive, insecure, etc.)

I’m gonna try and wrap this up the best I can. Honestly guys, ship whatever you want but for me, Chaggie just has no appeal at all. For the first four episodes, I didn’t even know they were a couple. I assumed Vaggie had some sort of unrequited, unhealthy crush on Charlie. Hazbin Hotel’s writing is already kinda bad to begin with, but if I can’t tell that your main female leads are in a romantic relationship within the first few minutes of their screen-time, that’s really saying something. And I understand wanting more wlw relationships in media, but having two female characters together just for the sake of having a wlw relationship in your show is not good representation. You need to actually have chemistry between them, you need to make them compelling characters as individuals, and sadly Vaggie is too one-dimensional that, on her own, she has nothing going on, and I’m not rooting for her and Charlie.

And I’m sorry but I can already tell I’m going to cringe so hard at this ‘sexy’ duet between them next season💀