#kinda want to write an entire backstory for him

[thesightstoshowyou]

Cold Comfort

John Ryder (The Hitcher 2007) x F Reader (NSFW)

Terror, pain, and a little softness.

Warnings: Dubcon, blood, gunplay, piercing trauma, nail trauma, face fucking, violence

A/N: OKAY so I was talking about this with @theartofslashing over TWO years ago 😭 Forgive me for just now getting to this lmao.

I can’t find it on YouTube anymore, but there is a deleted scene in 2007 The Hitcher where John—laying next to a sleeping Grace in her shitty motel room—plays with her hair, then runs his hand up and down her side. Half asleep Grace, thinking it’s Jim, gently grabs his hand to hold it. John pauses, then rips his hand out of her grip and slowly gets up off the bed, shoulders hunched, this puzzled and almost distressed look on his face. He rubs and inspects his hand like it hurts, like her soft touch burned him.

@theartofslashing said about this scene “…honestly the more often I replay this... he seems so... fascinated by her? Like... he doesn't even really know how to deal with his own attraction? …possibly because he just DOESN'T know how to relate to people without hurting them?” AND THAT IS SO SPOT ON with how I see the 2007 version of John Ryder.

So let’s explore this a little. This is the same reader from my other Hitcher fics in my Masterlist.

~~

Soft, yellow light spills across your face, leaks through your eyelids until you’re aware of its glow. Cheap, scratchy sheets grate against your bare skin, the musty smell of old linen and something metallic wrinkling your nose.

Slowly you shift and—OH GOD you hurt; straining, sore muscles, stinging flesh, dull throbbing in one of your fingertips. Then there’s the ache between your thighs, a pain you’ve come to associate only with…

John.

Your eyes fly open. A dingy, water-stained ceiling greets you. Across the room is a bulky television perched on a cracked dresser, some generic art screwed to the wall. To your left, an ancient, brass lamp sits atop a rickety, particle board nightstand.

Wildly, you rip the comforter off your nude form and glance down. The sheets below you are soaked with crimson—your blood. It’s a fucking murder scene. Your body is riddled with cuts and bruises, your finger twinging sharply until you release the bedding from your white knuckled grip. Your hand shakes as you examine your digits.

You’re missing a fingernail.

You recall the noise you’d made when John had ripped it off with a pair of pliers. Your face burns.

It is then you notice the gentle trickling of water and the steam pouring from the open bathroom door. Your foggy brain clunks and whirs as things start to fall into place all at once.

You’d stayed the night.

You’d stayed overnight with John.

You’re still here.

He’s still here.

He’s going to want you gone.

You need to get out of here.

Gritting your teeth to silence your groan of pain, you claw your way off the lumpy mattress. Frantically, you locate your clothes—jeans, shirt ripped to shreds, jacket, where are your underwear—pulling on whatever you can find until you’re mostly covered.

You reach for the door, pause…where’s your bag? You need your bag. Scanning the disorganized room—jesus, there’s blood on the wall—you spot the corner of black leather peeking out from under the bed.

In two steps you’re there, wincing when you bend down to retrieve it. Sling the strap over your shoulder, scurry back to the door, grip the lock, turn—

“Going somewhere?”

You freeze, stomach lurching. Swallowing thickly, you turn. John leans against the bathroom door frame, arms crossed, jeans hanging off his hips, short hair still damp.

His expression is impossible to read. Is he upset? Apathetic? Is he fucking with you? It’s so hard to determine.

“I, uh…I figured you’d…that I should just….” You motion vaguely over your shoulder toward the door. Your heart still races when he stares at you, blood rushing like floodwater in your ears.

You think…no, you know he meant to kill you that first night he’d picked you up. And you’re positive you weren’t the first. Again, you wonder how many others there were, or have been since you’d met. John’s killed, and you could so easily be next.

So why do you keep coming back?

John says nothing to your stammering, instead leisurely crossing the room toward you, one unhurried step at a time. He watches you shake like a leaf in the breeze, his dead gaze trailing down your body, assessing your torn shirt, your bloody skin. You notice his jaw tensing and relaxing and you’d be worried if you didn’t already know this is just something he does, an unconscious habit.

Briefly, you wonder if anyone else knows this about him.

Thoughts derail when he reaches you, grips your shoulder, pushes you to your knees. Your rubbery legs crumble instantly and you grunt when your sore body protests your abrupt thump onto ancient carpet.

You open your mouth to say something but any words you might have uttered leave your tongue in a terrified squeak as John produces a handgun from his back pocket. His rough hand grips your hair, twists your locks around calloused fingers. Stinging pain in your scalp stills you, fear of ripping your hair out and angering him holding you frozen in place.

Stop curling your toes, he’s got a fucking gun—

“J-John,” you whimper, your terrified expression reflected in nickel plating as the 1911 is brushed against your cheek.

He ignores your plea, or perhaps revels in it, judging by the way his lips curl minutely at the corners. “Stick out your tongue,” John murmurs, voice a low rumble that raises goosebumps along your skin.

Breath shaking, lips quivering, you don’t take your eyes off his face as you open your mouth and tentatively allow your tongue to unfurl. A tremulous whine escapes your throat when the barrel comes to rest on your tongue. Furiously, you blink away tears, silently pleading, begging.

The slide slips past your lips. You cough, gag, retch when the caustic scent of gunpowder and sharp metallic tang hit the back of your throat. Cold metal glides along your tongue as the gun is removed, then pushed back in, as much as will fit.

A hitching sob sounds around the gun. Terror wreaks havoc on your sanity, every panicked thought racing around your skull over and over and over. Is his finger on the trigger? Is the safety on? Is this it?

This is John you’re talking about, so your worst fears are most likely true, but you don’t dare look away from his piercing green gaze. You’re sure, somehow, that if you glance down to check his trigger discipline, John’s restraint will snap and your brains will end up splattered on the scuffed, white door behind you.

Drool pools in your cheeks, spilling over your tongue and down your chin until it drips onto your jeans. When John finally, finally pulls the barrel from your mouth, spit trails with it, little droplets pattering onto the carpet. You gasp and resist the urge to spit out the acrid gun flavor.

Is it relief you feel? Or dread? That can’t be the end of it….

John doesn’t release your hair when he sets the pistol on the dresser. One hand now free, he works his pants open, hard cock springing free. The leaking tip is at your lips before you can even think to protest.

Heated flesh follows the same path the gun took, though this time is much less gentle. In seconds, you’re choking, gagging, swallowing as he forces himself into your throat. Too soon, your nose sinks into the light brown curls at the base of his cock, the scent of cheap, powdery soap momentarily overpowering your senses when you struggle to breathe.

A pathetic, muffled gurgle sounds around the length stuffed in your throat and John huffs, gripping your head with his other hand. It’s vicious, the way he pulls out and slams back in. Your shoulders tense, hands curling into fists on your thighs when he pistons his hips, every inch of him claiming your mouth.

Tears spill unchecked down your face, frothy spit pours off your chin, mucus clogs your airway. You can barely focus, vision blurring and lungs burning. Still, that hateful part of you activates under John’s rough treatment and you feel the telltale twitch of need in your belly.

Suddenly, there’s a swift click near your ear. It’s a sound you recognize. Your eyes fly open and dart to your right. John’s pocket knife is clutched in his palm, blade still caked in your dried blood from the night before. Through wet lashes, you quickly look up at him, watch the grin pull at the corner of his mouth.

“That got your attention,” he rumbles. You feel cold steel against your ear lobe, hear the quiet clink when the tip of the blade hooks into your earring. You only have a second to brace yourself….

Sharp, splitting agony rips a muted, scream from your aching throat when John tears the hoop completely out of your ear. Warmth spills down your neck, your anguished sob so distorted as he resumes his frenzied pace. Maybe you moan then too, your legs shifting and grating together when pain becomes confused in your ruined synapses, another little jolt of want coursing through you.

Nobody knows how to hurt you like John.

Again you look up at him, dazed, teary, and reverent. John meets your gaze, grunts, then pulls you all the way down on his cock. Salty heat paints your throat, his breathy sigh delighting your fuzzy mind.

The gasp you take when he finally releases you is so wet it sounds like you’re drowning. You cough and cough, quivering hands coming up to clutch your burning ear. The piercing is gone, completely torn out the side of your ear lobe. Another sob wracks your tired frame.

John kneels in front of you and you don’t even think, just fall forward against his bare chest. His arms come up, wrap around your back, his fingers carding through your hair. Such a light touch for such calloused digits. You go slack, rest your weight against him, bleed onto his shoulder as you reign in your haggard breathing.

It’s nice. It’s calming. It’s comforting. It’s…it’s….

It’s like you both come to your senses at the same moment. Your eyes go wide and John stiffens. He’s…holding you.

You barely get your hands under you in time to catch yourself when John drops you. Hastily, he stands and strides across the room.

“Get out.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Clutching your jacket around your broken body, you stagger to your feet, grasp the handle, throw the door open. Early morning sun blinds you and you half stumble from the room, gripping the wall for stability. Furiously, you wipe away the fluids still dripping from your face as you hurry across the parking lot to your vehicle.

Collapsing into your car, the door squeals when you slam it shut. Your hand flies to your heaving chest, heart hammering against your palm. What the fuck are you doing…?

Tentatively, gingerly, your hand slides from your chest up to your shoulder. You can still feel the warm weight of John’s arms cradling you to him. Nervously, as though your thoughts might be broadcasted, you wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

Your expression sours and you shake your head. Keys jingle when you produce them from your bag. Your car thrums to life and you exit the parking lot as quickly as you dare.

What the fuck are you doing?

From behind the motel room curtain, green eyes follow your retreat.

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

If youre ok w sharing then i would love to hear your thoughts on lotor........ Hes such a weird guy. Dissecting him like a frog

If i get hate for this, i am blaming you/j but in all honesty i apologize if this kinda messy, as i have said it has beem awhile since i saw any of the episodes about him. Most of it is my personal interpretation and opinions of his character-

First of all i personally hate both "L0tor is evil rapist imperialist who did not have a single redeemable quality" and "L0tor is uwu poor baby who did nothing wrong", because yeah he had good intentions and he seemed to genuinely love Alura and care for Alteans but also he very much did do a lot of things Wrong. I am pretty sure a lot of his actions fall into category of Very Wrong

Lot0r to me is an absolute control freak, he has to be 10 steps ahead of everyone, he needs to be control of the situation no matter what. Whether it be through a silver tongue or by his blade (see N@rti's death, him vs White Lion). This is as much as a ruthless strategy as it is a trauma response. Being raised under Z@rkon, a father who only saw him as inferior half-bred, he had to learn survivor tactics. He will do anything to survive whether it be beg, lie, manipulate, and kill. He is a survivor of some genuinely godawful abuse he suffered for 10,000 years, combined with racism he suffered for being half altean

However this need to be in control extends to his allies and people he cares about. I am sure Lotor may have loved Alura, it doesnt change the fact that he very much abused her trust. Their entire relationship was based on a lie. He knew Alteans were still alive and not only did he not tell Alura about it he leaned into the "last survivors of Altea" for their relationship, which is why it was doomed since the beginning. And if it had not been this, then it would have been something else. Cause lying and manipulation are very much core of his character, that is how we are introduced to him

Like i see people going "Oh Lot0r could have been good if he had therapy and a hug", and i am not really not sure about it, cause like would he? Would he choose to be vulnerable and actually let his feelings out and be truthful in a an unbiased reliable way that will neither serve him in any way nor make him look better nor is a part of some machivilian scheme he cooked up because he doesnt trust the therapist he is paying? No

And thing is he does desire connection. He looks for connection in people who are similar to him. Half galran, altean survivors, Alura these are the people who he chose to get close to. He looks for similarities, people he can relate to, people who he sees as like him, people who he thinks can give him a sense of belonging. He is deeply lonely. However his desperation for control, absolute mistrust in anyone and everyone, and his inability to be actually honest dooms any relationship he'll ever have

Also this is probably just me, but for someone who is this morally complex character he has tendency to see things in black and white? Like it is His dad and empire= bad, alteans=good. He idolizes Altea to the point of seeing it as an Utopia, and this ideal was more important to him than any Alteans who are alive and with him. I also cant remember him ever caring about someone outside of the Dichotomy. Like at most i remember is after he became the emperor Lance pointing out how other planets need to be freed and he just brushed it off

Overall he gives me the "smart people dont always make good decisions, but they are good at justifying their bad ones" vibes. We dont know exactly why he decided to use alteans as batteries but i am choosing to go with my interpretation- "Lottor saw something fucked up in that future showing space whale thingy, decided the only way to solve was altean batteries except in true self fulfilling prophecy greek tragedy way it only made things worse and started a series of event that will cause the thing he saw causing real trouble a few years after his death.

Another thing! I think it should have been him being the focus of Evil Altean episode instead of A//ura. I hate that episode and everything it stands for but like if there Had to be an evil alteans episode then it should be around someone who is you know? Obsessed with Altean culture? Is big on control and manipulation? Is more geared towards big picture and "greater good" over individual? Is worried about turning into just like his galran father and so desperately wants to connect to his idealized version of his altean mother? Yeah

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Lucien Flores x reader

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summary | this is for @iamasaddie's kinky may writing challenge, a mix of a kink i haven't tried writing before and character i adore dearly but know next to nothing about. this was really fun to try out and my first fic back in almost four months, cheers to finally being back ig? may we christen it with smut.

content warning | heavy smut, literally pwp (there's some backstory if you squint), sensory deprivation, safe words, some food consumption as foreplay, some bodily fluid exchange/consumption, gags/restraints/ect and all that good stuff, oral (m/f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, established relationship, lucien is still a relatively blank character so none of this is canon (just how my silly little brain likes to imagine him rn)

word count — 4.7k

The rain is quiet against the apartment window, a soft and slow pattering that matches the slow beat of your heart. You can’t see it, not in your current position as Lucien leans his knee into the mattress behind you and the bed dips, warm fingertips brushing over your cheeks and the shell of your ear as he carefully and methodically secures the blindfold in place with a knot that feels secure. He brushes his fingertip over your nose as he nitpicks and mumbles something under his breath, fixing the black material until your vision is completely hindered.

“Princesa,” His voice is a soft caress, “everything alright?”

Constant check-ins, reassurances, comfortability and security—it was all you felt with Lucien. Things had clicked with him so easily. It made your heart drop into your stomach with the first realization, unlucky with love to a fault that never let up. He had eyes on you from the moment you first met and they never drifted.

A mid-life crisis. You were younger, a subordinate under his wife, and unattainable by most standards and rules. Fetching coffees, keeping Rose on schedule and reminding her of all the never-ending events she kept yes-ing—Lucien and her had long been divorced but a chance encounter at an industry mixer had landed you here. A routine you’ve both upheld for the last six months and it felt real. You had solid ground to stand on with Lucien and he never diminished how you were feeling, even if you felt so embarrassingly naive about things.

And the sex had never steadily climbed and crescendoed—Lucien liked to ravish and devour in a way that had you holding your breath and helped him realize very quickly how overwhelmed you could get. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but there was too much outside distraction—him, the droning buzz of traffic outside of his apartment, the distant muffled television a room away that Lucien always forgot to turn off before settling down for the evening with you. 

You needed focus, grounding—given Lucien’s illustrious history and Hollywood rumors and all the things you’ve heard from around town and within the social networks you shared, he seemed like the furthest thing from a good choice.

But, the care and attention he showed you drowned it out entirely. 

Hell, he gave you a key to his apartment within a month and you’ve never seen anyone else visit him—he doesn’t host parties here, he doesn’t even let his ex-wife set foot past the threshold. It was your own little sanctuary.

You lift the blindfold slightly and ruin the work he’d done to get it just how he wanted, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Hmm?” He’s got an eyebrow half-raise, features relaxed but masking an obvious worry that he didn’t want to harp about. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Lucien tilts his head, “How good?”

Just good. Kinda good. I’m only telling you I’m good so you don’t worry about me.

His thumb rubs at your chin and the thoughts float away and you allow yourself to live in the moment, reaping in the undivided attention this man showed you.

“Really good.” You reply salaciously, using the angle to your advantage as he towered over you on the bed, foot dragging along the inside of his thigh and pressing into the back of it until he lost his footing and slipped further into the deep pockets of the comforter. “Better if you start touching me like you kept promising over dinner.”

“Eager today?” Lucien teases as he crawls until he’s found his way between your legs, resting on his outstretched palm as he fixes your blindfold and darkness floods your senses again.

“Game recognizes game.” You retort, allow Lucien to use a guiding hand to settle you against the plush headboard, buttons pulling in on the fanned, velvet material. “I really need this today.”

There’s a soft shuffling and the familiar clink of expensive jewelry scattering against the bedside table—it was the forewarning that Lucien was prepared to make a mess of you, hammering that final nail in the coffin as he drags three fingers in a harmonious unison over your clothed pussy, the thin shirt you were wearing rubbing against the inside of his forearm as he applies just enough pressure to have you chasing after it when it fades away.

“I know, baby.” His voice drips like a warm honey, sticking to your skin and making you sweat. “Say your word.”

“Luce, we do this every time. I know it, we’re good.”

Silence lingered and you cleared your throat, the dip of pressure in the mattress between your legs from his hand, not allowing himself to touch you until you repeated it back to him.

You nod, “Peach.”

The small tick of a fond memory shows on his face, lips curling up at one side. It happens every time and Lucien knows it was meant as a playful jab in the beginning, but it quickly became something so sacred. 

You've only used it once and never out of fear or miscommunication—Lucien understood your limits and liked to push when you agreed, but one too many orgasms by his tongue as he buried his head between your thighs had eventually became too much and it was said through a shaky laugh, yanking at his curls until he surfaced.

Lucien, almost instantly, is there—mouth pressed against the barrier of your underwear, fingers curling around your thighs and spreading you apart with ample pressure, exploring your skin like uncharted territory, a new exploration. Like he hadn’t been going down on you for the last several months and already mapped out every inch of your body, knew all the shortcuts and quick routes.

The wetness soaked your underwear, the fleshy fat of his tongue rubbing hot and lapping at the heady taste of your arousal with a sigh before his fingers curl around the edges of your underwear where they cling to your hips, moving them down your legs and suddenly, despite being surrounded by darkness, the feeling of exposure is still daunting. Every time. 

“Tell me about your day.”

Then he’s licking a slow stripe down your center and you’re curling at the sudden touch, but quickly relaxing as he settles in, letting your fingers rest back in his soft curls, using your other senses while they are still available. Your mind wanders and wonders, thinking about the expertise and dexterity of his tongue. How if he really wanted you to come, he would have you there in less than a minute, but he was going easy.

“Boring,” Is all you have, “Most of the same.”

He’s just trying to fill the air, giving you a solid distraction outside of his filthy mouth. It’s not exactly his aim to bring up work during sex, especially when it’s in relation to his ex-wife.

“And dinner? How was it?”

Lucien purposefully flicks his tongue over your clit and you gasp softly, tugging at the strands of hair under your fingertips and you feel a hand rub at your lower back as it arches, a tender touch that you give into.

“Perfect,” It’s the truth, eternally grateful for his choice of personal chefs, because as much as you adored Lucien, he was not to be let into a kitchen, “delicious, as always.”

Lucien groans, deep and low against your pussy as his mouth sucks greedily at you, feeling his fingers inching closer and closer to your core, like he’s trying to take things slow for now, but the impatience is winning out. They’re tight at the apex of your thighs currently and just bordering on discomfort when he squeezes every time you moan or sigh or make even the smallest reaction to his mouth.

“R-right there,” You direct, canting your hips up despite his strong grip, “fuck, just—yeah, right there.” Lucien has always responded well, course-correction and sensing the way your body pulls him in, thighs squeezing around him as he dips a finger inside of you in time with his tongue, working you over mercilessly.

The lack of sight is making everything that more intense, searching for something to ground you, using your grip in Lucien’s hair, your other hand placed over his where it’s curled around your thigh as an anchor, feeling him speak against your cunt, filthy words you can’t quite catch but if you could see him, he would be sporting a shit-eating grin. 

The heat in your stomach coils, feeling the sensation down your spine as you whimper, one final swipe of his tongue over your clit within the immense build up of tension has you brokenly moaning out, “Come—fuck, I’m c-coming, Luce.”

Lucien laps at your greedily, prying your thighs apart forcefully.

“Shit—” His voice encourages, “—such a sweet fuckin’ pussy. Makes me fuckin’ crazy. Need you to taste it, baby.”

He’s already moving up your body as your lips part, your tongue dipping blindly into his mouth and tasting the headiness of you on his tongue, a sweet tang that isn’t unwelcomed. You don’t often make it a habit to kiss him after he’s gone down on you—he’s often messy, face a mix of saliva and you, smeared all over his chin, but the frenzy in his voice is hard to deny, giggling softly into his mouth as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

You’re still effectively blind, rubbing your palm over the inseam of his silk lounge pants, pulling at the delicate string that was struggling, tight against the length of his cock. Lucien grunts into your neck at the touch and widens his knees against the mattress, biting playful at your skin to soothe it moments later. His hands rub at your weak thighs, still shaking post-orgasm and you can’t help but be eager despite how much energy Lucien had worked out of you.

“Sit up,” You pointedly squeeze at his shaft and lean up, feeling the movement of his body follow. “—my turn.”

Lucien huffs in amusement, shuffling back on his knees as you sit upright. You reach for your blindfold but his hand engulfs your own, “Not yet.” He orders calmly.

You relinquish control to his guidance and sit on your calves as he places your hands flat against his bare chest, just above the softness of his stomach, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. “Like this.”

“But, I want to see you for this.” It’s nearly a beg, more of a test to see how easy he gives into your wants, but he chuckles in response and taps at your chin once. So, that was a no.

Despite how quickly he got off from a single look, his cock stuffed into your mouth and his hand gripping hard at the root of your scalp—maybe he was actually doing himself a favor.

Your shoulders slump slightly, barely noticeable but you smile and trail your fingertips down his abdomen, featherlight as the muscle flexes underneath your touch and they hover around the hem of pants as you lean forward and aim to press a kiss to his sternum, his chest, down and down until you feel your lips brush against the waistband.

“Take it out,” He encourages, “wanna watch you.”

You pull at the waistband with your teeth playfully, curious of just how quickly you're driving Lucien up the wall with the way you're acting, the material catching over his stiff, hard cock and allowing your hands to help you get them the rest of the way down. 

Lucien is kind enough to be a guiding hand, thumb pressed against the side of your jaw as he guides you forward, feeding the head of his cock past your lips, tongue dragging along the tip and under, the brush of foreskin like soft, warm velvet.

And you have him in the palm of your hand like this, despite how helpless you must look. It only takes a few minutes before Lucien is louder, mouthier with his words and harsh with his matching thrusts into your mouth.

Frustrated, Lucien pulls at the knot on your blindfold hastily, the soft grunts of his impending orgasm loud in your ears, feeling so starved of sight that when the blindfold falls away and your eyes open and you’re overwhelmed with light, ignoring the fact that Lucien’s cock was nearly pressing against the back of your throat.

But, it’s quickly nulled out by Lucien, towering over you and blocking most of the harsh fluorescence that drown out the room around you, eyes falling close again despite being free of the blindfold as you take him until your nose is pressing against his groin, the fingers resting at the back of your neck squeezing harshly.

Selfishly, he wants to keep you here for a while longer. A few minutes, a few hours.

“Relajate,” Lucien forces out, his mouth hanging open on the word as you pull away, now wide-eyed and wiping away the string of spit that connects you to him, “there’s no rush.”

You smirk at his words, grinning up at him before you lick at the head of his cock, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you respond, “For you, maybe. But, I want you to fuck me.”

Lucien’s fingers dance along the shell of your ear, drifting down the column of your neck until his palm covers the expanse of it before gripping firmly, a soft gasp ripping from your throat as he forces you to straighten, leaning down into your space.

“Slow, princesa,” Lucien demands, “Or you’ll regret it later.”

As if that didn’t already intrigue you enough, you nod subtly and return his mischievous grin.

Slow is what you give him, long strokes as you circle your tongue around the head of his cock, occasionally dipping your head down to lick the underside of his shaft, too dangerously close to his balls, taut from how obviously he was straining to hold off, his usually perfectly quaffed hair sticking to his forehead and every which way.

There is no wondering—you could do this all day if you wanted, bringing him right to the edge but never quite falling, like he enjoyed doing to you, a shared pastime you’ve explored a few times but clearly not enough—because eventually you just get impatient.

Thankfully he seems to understand, nodding as your lips hover near his cock, playful kisses pressed against his pubic bone and scattered around until you finally decide to swallow him down, a few minutes later and he’s coming down your throat, eyes watering at the force but his eyes are locked on your own and you swallow on instinct, taking a sharp breath when he finally pulls back, seemingly just as wrecked as you were a half hour ago as he slumps into the bed, landing on back beside you, his hand rubbing over your knee tenderly.

“Are you up for a snack?” 

You look at him quizzically, bemused at his question.

“Is that code?” You tease, fingers scratching at his overgrown stubble beard, “Should I be worried?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Lucien laughs gruffly, groaning as he turns on his side and slips off the bed, walking naked to the door and out of the room casually, coming back into the room with a sizeable plate of cut fruit and you grin, his heel forcing the door closed behind him. “See?”

He offers the plate up as proof as he sets it at the bedside table, though his fingers linger near the closed drawer a few centimeters beneath it. And you know where things are heading, the routine isn’t always the same, but Lucien liked to cover most, if not all the bases on nights where he was really needing the distraction. It seemed to be one of those nights, watching as his fingers dipped inside the drawer to grab the wrist restraints that hooked to the center of his headboard, a soft material that helped with comfort but made it damn near impossible to slip out if you really wanted to while your hands were hooked up.

But, that’s what Lucien wanted. The ability to trust that he would know your limits or that you would trust him enough to react to the safe word if you ever, for any reason, needed to use it.

“Oh—” Your gaze lingers and Lucien rubs the material in his hands.

“This alright?” He wonders, though the glint in your eye is enough of an answer.

You laugh softly through your nose and take the binding in his hand, slipping your wrist through the loops, leisurely scooting back until you hit the headboard, raising your arms above your head, “You tell me?”

Lucien chews absently at his bottom lip as he takes a rogue bite out of one of the strawberries on the plate before leaning onto his knee against the mattress, securing the restraint into place. A small latch that was also accessible to you if needed. He leans down quickly and you’re unprepared for the suddenness of it but he presses against you in a slow, sloppy kiss that leaves you chasing after the sweet juice that lingered in his mouth, mixed with the glass of malt whiskey he’d had earlier.

“Blindfold too?” You ask curiously.

Lucien shakes his head distractedly and takes his seat beside you on the bed, facing in the opposite direction so you’re both facing each other. The lack of clothing should feel distracting, but you’re too focused on his face, watching as he carefully bunches up the leaves on a strawberry and presses it to your lips, tongue curling around it and biting into it with a soft crunch.

‘What’s with the food?” You ask with a slightly furrowed brow, food stuffed in your cheek as you chew, “Not that I’m complaining but…this is…”

“Baby, relax,” He notices the tensing of the muscles in your forearm, nodding in the general direction—you hadn’t realized how hard you were curling your hands into fists until he pointed it out, “—remember the new assistant I hired?”

Another bite and the strawberry is done for, Lucien’s finger following as he wipes away the mess of juice around your bottom lip, savoring it for himself as he presses his thumb against his thumb and sucks and if he sees the way your thighs inch together, he doesn’t say anything. 

You hum in acknowledgment and chew at the fruit, remembering the fresh-faced and terrified young man who Lucien had given a shot to after firing his old assistant—the embezzling funds was a problem, but he also insisted that he needed a fresh start, but you didn’t think he meant that fresh.

“I was craving it,” Lucien shrugged, “He went and picked up a bunch of shit.”

“Craving it,” You mince the words and Lucien chuckles, noticing your pointed gaze, “—for a sex thing, clearly.”

Caught. Sort of. 

Lucien was big on trying new things—it was harmless, but the way he had tore into a peach during the picnic luncheon at for the acting agency both he and Rose worked under, eyes locked on you as he split it in half and shared the other half with you, less than careful about the way he cleaned up the juices on himself and you, finding yourself unexpectedly drooling over him in one of your less than finest moments. It was either the delicious fruit or an oral fixation. Maybe both. 

He shoved a slice of kiwi between his teeth and leaned forward, pressing the fruit into your mouth and following with his tongue, devouring you into a kiss that has you whining quietly into his mouth, pulling away as you leaned forward to chase after him, chewing at the fruit in annoyance as you slumped back.

“Play nice, princesa.” Lucien teases.

“I am,” You retort with a sharp bite in your town, “you are making me wait.”

Lucien takes the ringlet slice of pineapple and squeezes it over your bare chest, down the valley of your breasts and you gasp at the sudden change in temperature against your hot to the touch skin, eyes snapping to the liquid traveling to your belly button.

“Lucien!” 

You shriek, watching as he tossed the mangled fruit aside and made his ascent, licking from your belly button to the junction of your neck in one go, hovering over you with a devilish smile.

“If you don’t fuck me right now—” You gritted through clenched teeth and he presses his forehead against your own, giving you nowhere to hide as he stares you down, “I swear to god, Luce—”

“You trust me, right?”

“Stupid question,” You retort, nudging him back with your nose, “of course.”

Lucien hides the bemused expression on his face as he looks away, leaning over the side of the bed for a couple items that are out of your line of sight but quickly come into view as he lays them against your stomach, his thighs slotted underneath your own, taut muscle rubbing against your skin.

“Thought we could,” He separates them out carefully along your abdomen, “try a few at once.”

A gag—familiar and frequently used, black leather around a silicone black ball. A different blindfold, more like a sleep mask—it looked like Lucien’s sleep mask, actually. He could use the traditional one he tends to stick with but it seems he’s aiming for comfort here, fingers tracing along the last item with a raised brow.

“Ear buds? Really, Lucien? Headphones?” You giggle softly, “You want me to listen to music while we—”

“No, no—” Your laughter is infectious and he chuckles too, “baby, they’re just noise canceling.”

“Oh?” Your wrist yanks in interest before you realize you’re still restrained.

“If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Lucien is very clear about that, fingertips pressed into the sheets beside your hips. 

“You really like when I give over control, don’t you?” You tease playfully.

“Como siempre.” He says softly before leaning down to nip at your breasts, eyes flicking up at you.

“Okay, yes. But—” You look up at your hands, bound but not uncomfortable, “maybe no blindfold. I’ll keep my eyes closed but I want to see you. I like being able to see you.”

Lucien nods in agreement, a slow and treatours pace he takes as he retreats, tongue dragging down the center of your body and still tasting slightly of citrus. He smirks at your obvious squirming before doing away with the blindfold and allowing himself to get everything else in order.

The gag comes first, a small muffled grunt as he tightens the strap around the back of your head, adjusting it until you give him a solid nod. It helped that despite your inability to communicate verbally that Lucien had created a way for you to rid yourself of your wrist restraints whenever everything felt a little too much but you weren’t worried about using your safe word, a small latch connected to the metal chain that linked you to the headboard, easily accessible. And then the headphones, an odd experience to say the least—you can’t imagine what kind of money Lucien wasted on these because they immediately drown out all noise, the small buds resting in your ears and relatively out of sight.

It feels ridiculous, but when Lucien speaks and you can’t hear, your heart races with an anticipation you’ve never felt before. Exhilaration, more like.

You have no other choice than to watch—watch as Lucien settles comfortably back, kneeling as he runs his fingers along the underside of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them and rolling them around leisurely, your eyes watching every single movement, teeth baring down gently around the ball as he fists him, fingers dragging over his shaft and working himself up quickly, his chest slightly flushed from a mix of your previous activities and now, his eyes never settling on one piece of your body for too long.

You communicate through nods and eye contact, feelings incredibly vulnerable in the moment, watching as Lucien pressed himself inside of you with slow intention and you swear you can hear the deep exhale he forces out through his nose as it flares before he settles and gives you no time at all to prepare, a small gasp escaping you as your finger tighten around the slack in the strap connection your wrist cuffs to the bed, a slow but deep snap of his hips that shatters your focus, back arching into his touch as his fingers run along your spine and dig in, gripping you tight, practically sitting in his lap with the angle he has you held at.

“Mi vida,” He sighs, knowing you can’t hear him, “mi vida, mi vida, mi vida,” growing quiet with every utterance of it, “too perfect for me, baby.”

The vibration of his voice is pressed against your collarbone, his nose dragging along the junction of your neck and you’re so curious of what he’s saying, but you try not to let your mind wander—not that he allows much of that, gradually switching the pace to something stronger.

You wished you were stronger than Lucien liked to give you credit for, but you do find that your impatience eats away at you, coming in short whines and pleading looks and Lucien catches your gaze, eyes soft and watery. 

He’s breathing out in short grunts through his mouth and you can see his nose scrunch up as he groans, fingers digging into your skin, squeezing tight at your hips—you can’t do it anymore, reaching your fingers up to grasp at the latch keeping your arms hoisted up, falling back in a heap with Lucien pressed against your chest, hastily slipping your hands out of the binding.

Lucien catches on quickly, working the gag off and tossing it aside, hearing it clink heavily against a nearby object but neither of you bother looking and quickly discarding the headphones on the nightstand, his forearms coming around your head to barricade you in.

You’ve never felt more safe.

“Pobrecita, come on,” Lucien coos, “ask for it, yeah? You want me to touch you?” Lucien moans heavily against your skin, your own hands twisting it his hair, fingers curling gently around the back of his ears, “Want me to make you come with my cock inside you? Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” You whine softly, “touch me—please, just touch me.”

He doesn’t move quick enough, finding that your hand quickly searches for his own, pressing it between your bodies and his fingers know you, working like muscle memory as he circles your clit a combination of his middle and ring and it’s nearly instantaneous, a mix of built up tension and desperate need for release. Your fingers pinch at the skin of his neck as you come, pulling the hair at the nape of neck and breathing in a sharp gasp, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it, baby.” Lucien breathes quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your breast as you come, eventually finding your lips and kissing you thoroughly, silencing your weak moans, chest heaving deeply in the aftermath as he pulls back, nothing he’s on the edge himself.

“I want you in my mouth again,” You sound desperate, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze from where he towers over you, fists gripping the sheets, “wanna taste us together, baby.”

Lucien rises suddenly, one palm pressed against the headboard as he grips his cock with the other, quickly spilling over your stomach, a sigh punches from his chest as he comes down, flush with a slight embarrassment at how easily it was for you to work him up.

“Or not,” You say through a tired laugh, soft and airy, “too much?”

“Never.” Lucien assures, brow furrowing in amusement as he drags a finger through the mess he made, bringing it to your mouth and allowing you to suck, lick, and make an over the top and unnecessary show as you swallow his cum and Lucien feels his cock twitch between his legs, despite how tired his body felt. 

“Jesus, princesa,” He laughs, “—greedy tonight?”

You mirror his actions, bringing your own finger into the mess before pressing it into his mouth—and Lucien opens with a lust-drunk grin, capturing your wrist in a tight grip and licking off his own spend from your finger.

“Absolutely.”

And thank god, because your night was far from over.

↝ beta: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[rosabell14]

An analysis of Bianca di Angelo's role in the narrative and why bad writing can screw over a character.

For someone with such a limited time in the narrative, Bianca is one of the most divisive characters in the fandom. I've been in the fandom long enough to see how much nuance the fandom lacks when discussing certain characters and Bianca is no difference. But it's more than just viewing the characters' actions in a vacuum. It's ignoring the larger narrative problems. At the end of the day Bianca suffers from one simple problem: she's barely a character outside of her role in Nico's narrative. Like it or not, her entire character exists to die and give Nico issues down the road but Riordan's writing decisions didn't do her any favours either.

I feel like this is a huge issue when it comes to the pjo fandom they often try to come up with Watsonian solutions to problems that are Doylist in nature and Bianca is one example of that.

Case in point: Riordan's shit math when it comes to the Di Angelo siblings and how it messes up with bianca's character.

So when we meet them they're 10 and 12. We learn that their memories of their past is kinda hazy and that they don't remember their parents but that they were in a boarding school, then they moved to the lotus hotel, then they were taken out of the hotel and put into Westover's. And at the end we learn that they're Hades's children born before the oath of the big 3.

Said oath happened after WW2 btw. So 1945 probably since Bianca remembers FDR's presidency.

Now in TLO we get an update on this backstory. Hades is speaking to Maria about moving his children to the underworld or the lotus hotel since Maria doesn't like the former option because the war has put Hades in a bad situation with his brothers and also the prophecy is out, the oath has been taken and they're running out of time to hide the kids. So logic says that it's 1945. And then Zeus immediately kills Maria and Hades tells Alecto to erase the children's memories and put them in the lotus hotel, and honestly? I like this version much better? Because why in the world would Hades Put his children in a boarding school for a few years and THEN hide them in the hotel after they were nearly assassinated? Why not immediately put them in the hotel?

And so we get to our main dilemma. Bianca having to raise Nico. This was already strange to me because it's not as if this is a Jason and Thalia situation where Jason was a toddler and Thalia had to take care of him. Nico is not a baby they have a two year age difference. But of course these kinds of things might matter more if you're young. Even then, in what situation would Bianca be Nico's main caretaker? They were put into a magic hotel that mind you, makes time go faster so for them it was a month or two at best and they would have been given whatever they needed by the staff? Same type of issue with Westover's and the boarding school if you want consider that canon. They would have been taken care of by the facility. They probably wouldn't even have shared classes or dorms? Or am I misunderstanding American boarding schools?

And then, Riordan's bad math strikes again and this time with the characters' ages. Because Nico's age in HoO becomes 14 which would have made him 11/almost 12 in TTC but that's not the big problem, no no no. The problem comes from his official birthday which is 1932.

1932... Which would have made him 13 and Bianca 15 by the time Maria dies. Which is hilarious because with the way the kids are written during her death scene as absolute non players with nary a reaction, you would think they were written to be toddlers who didn't understand anything that was going on.

That royally screws over Bianca as a character (and me as someone who's trying to write a story centered around her). Because her main thing. The one time she's allowed to have complexity is the moment where she talks about how she wants to be more than Nico's caretaker, and she's barely Nico's caretaker at all. The best in universe explanation I can come up for this is that this is how Bianca perceives things because that's all that she literally remembers. Those months in the hotel and Westovers.

Another time the plot kinda messes her up is at the beginning of TTC. One complaint that I often see in regards to her Is how quickly she makes her decision. She does not even hesitate. She does not even wait to see the camp. You know the place that would have taken care of her and Nico which would have meant she wasn't going to be his supposed primary caretaker anymore? She doesn't even wait to see if it was an actual good place for her brother? Spoiler alert: it's not camp half-blood at the time was not a good place for either of them really. Nico did not have a cabin at camp and people were not accepting of him. Hell, people not being accepting of hades and his children was something established since the first book.

But once again, this is a Doylist problem at its core. We need to turn Bianca into a hunter but we also need Artemis to leave so that she can be kidnapped for the main conflict, so she leaves before the hunters even reach camp. Half-blood. So Bianca as a character doesn't even get to make a proper choice between the camp and the hunters. To people who only look at characters on an in universe level, it comes off as very rash and not well thought out.

To be fair, on an in universe level, she's a kid so it's okay if she's stupid, but Riordan wasn't trying to make her come off as that way? He treats Bianca's decision as a legit serious choice and not the rash decision of a desperate child.

And once again, Bianca is here for Nico's sake more than anything. She needs to die. So she takes the statue for Nico. Which is so ironic and tragic if you decide to play it that way. That Bianca wanted to be more than Nico's sister, but her literal death revolves around being his sister. Normally I'd enjoy this level of angsty irony but unfortunately that's how the very narrative treats her as well. Even her post mortem decisions are there to maximize Nico's angst more than that they're there to say anything about Bianca herself. We need Bianca to only appear at the end of Botl so that Nico and Percy can have a conflict but it once again comes at the cost of Bianca herself coming off as callous. What's the in universe reason for this behavior? It's so stupid because in universe, Nico doesn't even take that much convincing? One conversation. One conversation and Nico was convinced to stop his efforts in reviving her. Does she just not know her brother enough? Maybe since they technically know each other for a year max. Does she genuinely think she's that easy to give up on? Is she that conflict avoidant? I actually like this interpretation and plan to use it. There's much to be done with a character who's rash and bold but an absolute emotional coward who'd try to avoid an emotionally charged conversation until they absolutely can't.

Hell even after Botl, it's the same song and dance. Hades makes an absolute vile remark at Nico's expense. TSATS makes it into a joke moment and has you believe that Hades simple said that Bianca would have been a better demigod. No ladies and gentlemen. Hades literally tells Nico that he wished Bianca had survived instead.(The fact that I still think that hades is the best godly parent just shows you how low the bar is more than anything.)

I swear to God I spent so much time racking my brain trying to understand what this could mean for Bianca's character.

This is how I basically look like trying to milk every scene where Bianca is there as a character or is mentioned for every drop of characterization.

At the end of the day, I can't blame most of the fandom for being ambivalent towards her at best. The story by design is about Nico. It's designed for you to sympathize with him and yeah if I'm to look at it from Nico's perspective. He DID get abandoned, regardless of Bianca's intentions. From his Perspective , which is the one most people would take, his sister took the very first chance she could to ditch him for people she barely knew hoping people either of them barely knew would take care of him even though they haven't even seen the place yet, and then ignored him for months while he was desperate for a single conversation with her. Honestly had Nico outright resented his sister for leaving, I think the reaction towards her would have even been worse.

(Another sidenote, my very hot tea Is that I like to believe that had Bianca lived her and Nico's relationship would have become worse as time went on and as the camp's anti hades sentiments really started taking their toll on Nico. But I'm just an angst lover)

Worse is that this story is told from Percy's perspective and these two only have like 3 actual conversations together. One of them is her dying, one is about her making her first main decision and that's at the expense of Nico who's probably the fandom favorite behind Percy and Annabeth and the other is her trying to explain her aforementioned decision to Percy and even then, she talks about it in such broad strokes. "I want to be more than X" tells us about who you one day wish to be not about who you are at the current moment. And even when we have Nico as a POV character, Bianca is only there for "dead family member" trope. There's barely any moment where Nico remembers anything important about her to give her any depth. The cards are just stacked against her. Even the people who are at the "Bianca did nothing wrong camp" are barely interested in her. I swear to god whenever an AU comes up where she's alive, the focus is STILL on Nico. Oh Nico would have been such a happy person had she lived! And Bianca? Uhhhhh she would have fucked off with the hunters I guess?

Can we talk about the hunters while we're here?

If we WERE to talk about in universe scapegoats, I'd honestly choose the hunters. Honestly I could make a separate post about how much I hate how Riordan handled them. But oh dear God the way they're presented just comes off as creepy. The way they initially (up until TOA) only go for young girls because apparently older girls aren't useful once they hit puberty and start developing feelings for people and lose themselves(TTC and Percy Jackson's Greek gods oh dear lord are they terrible in Percy Jackson's Greek gods). How they're basically the heroine dumping ground for when Riordan doesn't know what to do with a female character. How ultimately in universe, Zoe more than anyone is to blame to for Bianca's death by taking an untrained girl to a mission where she KNOWS two people would die at the very least. And she doesn't even watch her properly during the mission. Honestly I could barely feel anything about Zoe's death upon rereads as an adult for this very reason. Or how stupid it is to basically put a child in front of a candy store and expect them to make a responsible decision. Who in their right mind would have young girls as young as nine take a celibacy vow? Oh but you'll be safe with us (never mind that we're not just normal hunters here like the actual myths but actual monster hunters) and you'll totally be able to see your brother when you want (actually we barely visit camp half-blood) oh but you'll be a FAMILY with us! Except you know if you catch feelings or get assaulted(holy hell how Riordan depicts the myth of Callisto makes me want to tear my hair out of my scalp)

[szynkaaa]

Some more Black Myth Wukong Destined One x reader / OC / self-insert / whatever-floats-your-boat thoughts

***** Black Myth: Wukong Ending Spoilers *****

While I know that in the true ending, the Destined Ones inherits all of Wukong's power and skill and memories and is basically the Monkey King reincarnated, I still kinda see them as two separate beings?

Especially in terms of shipping Destined One x reader LMFAO. IDK I just think this has a potential to be angsty or ending in a tragedy, like yeah you have heard stories of the great Monkey King (or not, depending on your character's backstory). But the monkey you are traveling with doesn't seem anything like the Great Sage you have heard so much about. It's hard to tell what he is thinking or wants but with time you learn how to read the Destined One (see my other hc here). This is the monkey you've been traveling with for some time, protecting you, listening to your woes and shower thoughts. Who made sure you were fed and safe and warm at night.

What does it mean then when he inherits all of Wukong's power and will and memories? Is his personality slowly gonna shift to be more and more like the monkey king's? Did the Destined One ever had a free will on his own? In the game when you die, a lot of times enemies will say "oh you are nothing like him" and that it is also not the first time the Destined One has been here (which I guess is tied to one of the game's ending). I think it's just kinda sad that the purpose of his entire existence is to go find the 6 relics, and then inherit Sun Wukong's memories and be basically the Monkey King reincarnated.

So I'm writing this with my OC in mind, but I feel like if she learns that his whole journey at the end is to become Sun Wukong and be his reincarnation, idk she is gonna absorb that information well. It may suddenly feel like you never really knew the Destined One at all? Was there ever a chance for you to be with him or be together? Once the Destined One inherits all of Sun Wukong's memories, will he still feel the same way about her? will he remember all the good times and bad times and ugly times they went through? I feel like there would be a whole new adjustment period lmfao. ofc this can all still end in a happy ending way, but right now my brain is just stuck in how sad this could also potentially be.

I think part of the reason why I also feel this way is because I am generally not a fan of the whole "past person reincarnated" trope (love isekai though).

I do love the game's ending as it is, but in terms of shipping with an OC or whatever (which is what I always do when I ✨ obsess ✨ over a fictional character), it's not my favorite

anyway yeah, I'm not good with putting my thoughts into words so I hope it makes sense what I'm trying to say

[thankskenpenders]

Sonic Prime: "Season 2"

Eight more episodes of Sonic Prime are out! They're labeled as "season 2" despite just being the next eight episodes of the first (and presumably only) season, allowing Netflix to market it as multiple seasons without having to give the cast and crew raises. They love doing that shit to their original cartoons. Ugh.

Anyway! Last time, I gave the show some leeway because it was still finding its legs. This time, though? We're now two thirds of the way through the series, and sadly, I think it's time to accept the truth:

While there are parts I like, a lot of this show... kinda sucks?

This multiverse sucks and Rouge was robbed

Previously, I noted the pattern of each universe spotlighting a different friend of Sonic's (Tails in New Yolk City, Amy in the jungle world, Knuckles in the pirate world) and predicted that, hopefully, Rouge would get her time to shine next. And with 16 episodes left, surely there's time to explore new worlds that are more interesting than the jungle and pirate worlds. Those were just the warm up act. Right?

...Right?

Nope! That's it! There are no more worlds.

This multiverse show where anything is possible really is just about another Eggman-controlled dystopia world, a jungle world, and a pirate world. That's all they came up with! Just those three, and two dead worlds that don't really count - one a featureless wasteland, the other a ghostly echo of the original Green Hill dubbed "Ghost Hill." (Sonic's friends appear here as holograms stuck repeating a single line each. It gets old immediately.)

The jungle and pirate worlds and their inhabitants being so overwhelmingly generic becomes unforgivable the moment you realize this is all we're gonna get. It just leaves me wishing they'd thrown this whole concept out and finally made a normal Sonic cartoon with no twist in its premise. A few of the new takes here are good, particularly Nine as a darker riff on Tails, but so many of them don't feel anything like the fun characters they're supposed to be. They're stock cartoon characters wearing the Sonic casts' skins.

I'll admit my bias is showing, but god, Rouge is REALLY done dirty by this setup. The normal Rouge we see in the first episode is so fun for how briefly she appears, but then in all the other worlds she's reduced to a generic action girl with zero personality. What's her purpose, exactly, when every AU version of Amy is ALSO a straightforward action girl? It drives me absolutely insane that they gave us a PIRATE ROUGE and she doesn't care about treasure. They do nothing with this! How!!!!!!!! She's just never gonna get her turn. It's so obvious that Rouge is only in this show so that they can have another girl, but you could swap her out with another character like Blaze and it'd make no difference.

Speaking of the pirates, though...

The way things play out in the pirate world is so stupid

Previously, with the Paradox Prism shard within reach, Captain Dread Knux was regressing into his old obsessive personality. I'm fine with this. Sonic and Dread both want the shard, they're gonna fight over it. Obvious stuff. But the actual impact it has on the story is maybe the stupidest bit of writing in this entire show so far.

Basically, while fighting a couple of the Eggmen and their robots at sea, Sonic has to briefly run over to the enemy ship to fight them and grab the Paradox Prism shard while Dread and his crew remain back on their ship. Dread goes "Oh my god, look! Sonic's abandoning us! Traitor!" While Sonic is... like 200 feet away. Still in clear view. Fighting the guys who are trying to kill them. Retrieving Dread's beloved treasure for him.

And yet, Dread's crew buys this! And when Sonic runs right back over with the shard in hand, they're all like "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY US" and turn on him.

It's just. What?!

This isn't a huge part of the "season," but I highlight it as maybe the worst moment of the show's character writing. I'm reminded of Thorn Rose's backstory from last time, where she was depicted as suddenly snapping one day when she saw her friends pick one too many berries in the jungle. Sometimes a character just needs to pivot for the story to work, and they aren't really interested in getting there smoothly.

The Chaos Council fucking sucks

I tried so hard to like these guys, but they drag the show down so much.

The choice to have a team of five different Eggmen really just means that Eggman has been split into five one-note characters. Four of them revolve entirely around the most trite, predictable, boomer-ass jokes based on their ages. The teenage one is whiny and just wants to play video games. The young adult one is a vegan hipster who does yoga. The old one is cranky about all the whippersnappers and has a bad back. The baby is a baby. These are jokes that would've been tired if this show aired 20 years ago.

The odd man out is Mister Doctor Eggman, the middle-aged one with a toupee who's the stand-in for regular Eggman. But even he kinda sucks. The other four all being one-note joke characters means that he has to be the straight man of the group, so he's just very dry and serious and plot-focused without any of Eggman's fun eccentricities. He's neither particularly funny nor particularly sinister, which is just about the worst place for an Eggman to be.

He doesn't even have any incompetent robot lackeys to bounce off of, because the unfunny alternate age Eggmen fill the quota for bumbling secondary villains. But also, like... Orbot and Cubot are in this show! They were in the first episode! Where are they? God, I never thought I'd miss them so much...

But, okay. It's not ALL bad.

The highlights

There's a recurring theme here, which is that the best episodes are the ones where Sonic is pitted against a foe who can match his speed and they just let the animation carry it.

The first of the new episodes is mostly about Sonic fighting Shadow, and BOY is their fight fun to watch. Said fight happens because Shadow blames Sonic for shattering the universe and doesn't trust him to fix things. Shadow wants to restore their world, but he refuses to see the various AU counterparts as the same people Sonic once knew, and he doesn't really care what happens to them. Ultimately, though, he begrudgingly accepts that Sonic really is the only one who can hop between dimensions for Plot Reasons, and therefore lets him go try to do things the nice way. He sadly spends most of his time waiting around in the void between worlds, but in the last episode of the batch he and Sonic get to team up against the Chaos Council's forces and it's very cool.

As far as recent interpretations of Shadow go, this is a good one. He's a great foil for Sonic, which just makes me wish he could travel with Sonic to the different worlds. He's cynical and overly pragmatic in his approach, but his points aren't entirely wrong. His anger feels justified. They even let him have some snark! And Ian Hanlin is really great in the role - definitely a contender for Shadow's best voice ever. He just sounds so natural.

The other speedster Sonic fights is Chaos Sonic, the Chaos Council's take on Metal.

He can talk! Deven is basically doing a Jaleel impersonation for him? People are very mixed on this.

The idea behind Chaos Sonic is to turn Sonic's obnoxious smack talk and zingers back around on him, and I don't hate this idea, even if a lot of fans find him annoying compared to Metal Sonic. (Some comparisons have been made to Archie's Shard, but I assume this is a coincidence.) Like the rest of the script, his dialogue certainly isn't anything to write home about, but the fights he gets into with Sonic and co. are so damn fun and dynamic that I have to like him. I also like how expressive his eyes are on his dome screen face, and the animators have a ton of fun with the fact that his torso and head can rotate 360 degrees.

Unfortunately, he's destroyed at the end of his debut episode. I'm praying he gets rebuilt, because this show desperately needs better villains than the Chaos Council.

Again, the animation in Prime is maybe the best animation in any official Sonic media, period. I just wished I liked the characters and worlds enough to be invested in more of the fights. It's hard to care about the dozenth group battle against the generic Eggforcer bots and the baby in his Fisher-Price mech.

The note we end on

After fighting a giant glowing replica of the normal Eggman for... some reason? Episode 16 ends with Sonic and Nine getting into an argument over what to do with the Paradox Prism shards. Sonic wants to restore his original world, but Nine still wants to create a new, better world out of the one that's just an empty wasteland, believing he doesn't belong anywhere else. Nine angrily runs off with the shards, and Sonic is distraught as he realizes that Shadow was seemingly right about how he shouldn't trust Nine.

I kind of like this conflict, mostly because Nine is the standout character of this show. But my main problem is that we don't know what will happen when everything is fixed.

The logical assumption is that the alternate worlds will just... stop existing, right? That must be the idea if Sonic and Nine are treating restoring the original world and creating a new one in the Shatterverse as mutually exclusive options, right? If the Shatterverse disappears, will Nine and the rest all stop existing, too? The show seems unwilling to discuss this possibility, so I'm left not really knowing what the stakes are in this conflict. Nine becomes a whole lot more sympathetic and Sonic becomes a whole lot more monstrous if restoring the world will erase most of this show's cast from existence, but the thought that this could even happen doesn't seem to have crossed Sonic's mind. Sonic seems to want to take his AU friends back to the regular Green Hill - he at least wants to introduce Nine to his normal friends - but like... he can't really do that, can he? They're not gonna have four Tailses running around.

I don't really know what direction this is all headed in. I guess we just have to keep watching, even if I'm past the point of accepting that this show is mostly very mid.

It's just frustrating that everyone else working on this show is clearly giving it their all while the writers at Man of Action phone it in for so much of its runtime. The scripts drag this show down so, so hard. There are moments and episodes I like, but you have to slog through so much mediocrity to get there.

[verosikastrikerstellaexcuser]

I wish Vivziepop (and many other young adult writers honestly) Would understand that giving a character depth or making them interesting doesn't have to mean giving them a sad backstory or trauma.

Like Viv claiming Millie doesn't get to be focused on because she is healthy and well adjusted. There are so many characters who can be considered healthy and are still interesting and fun to watch.

I sadly think this is what she is going to do with Stella, she will give her a sad backstory (probably with a mean mom or dad because of course) and call it a day. I would much rather see a softer side of her through her interactions with Via for example. Or see more interactions with her and Striker because honestly she was nice and respectful with him during the last call and I kinda want to see more of that. Have Stella have a day out with her daughter while she tries all the fun things she couldn't do before because of her upbrining or something.

Yea this is really true! People have pointed out before the repeating daddy issues backstory with these shows. Characters don't need abusers and tragic backstories to be interesting, and this show does give its characters tragic backstories a lot, which isn't entirely bad but when those are the only characters getting explored, it does put into question whether they know how to write characters outside of trauma. And it makes the trauma stuff repetitive, definitely, especially since often times its the exact same kind of trauma.

I also think that Millie could have a complex relationship with her parents that gets worked on without it being outright "they're abusive" - I mean fuck, we've already had that kinda with them not understanding freelance and with their opinion on Moxxie. Its just a shame it was Moxxie's drama instead of Millie's, since they're Millie's parents and them not liking him should affect her too. I made a post related to it here.

[starshadyy]

what your favorite splatoon character says about YOU!

obligatory “this is a joke” disclaimer, please don’t take offense i’m only being silly👉👈

☆ ★ ☆

callie: you are a diehard squid sisters fan. you have an intrinsic sense for design and are probably super creative. you hate it when people misinterpret her. others wouldn’t assume it, but you actually need therapy more than most others on this list…😔

marie: you’re really intimidating but probably super nice. you’re actually good at the game and are well-versed in the meta. you may not be the best at communication, but you have a strong intuition and are good at reading people

pearl: an absolute feral crackhead who needs to be kept on a leash. definitely queer. nasty majesty is your national anthem. you breathe life and energy into every situation you enter, and others appreciate you for it. you are pearlina’s strongest soldier! 🩷🩵

marina: you are a massive nerd /affectionate. you either wanna be her friend or you have a fat crush on her. you listen to splatoon ost all the time. your room is packed with stuff from the media you like, including mountains of plushies

shiver: you join her team during splatfests even when you don’t necessarily agree with the platform. you’re likely very sarcastic and always speak your mind. oh yeah, and you’re a weeb

frye: you loved her from the start and defended her honor back when everyone was clowning on her design. you’re very talented but humble about your accomplishments. you would bite someone if allowed

big man: you act laid back but are probably filled with anxiety. i get the vibe that you would own an unconventional pet of some kind [turtle, frog, ferret, etc.]. you’re for sure the mom friend. you know nothing about splatoon lore

captain 3: you are the BACKBONE of this fandom and i have nothing but respect for you. you’re probably ranked pretty high in competitive and are likely a completionist

agent 4: you grew up on splatoon 2 and were sure that they would show up in side order only to be… uh, half right? i’m so sorry sweet prince /gn. don’t you worry, your day [splatoon 4] is fast approaching…

eight: you’re very analytical and derive great joy from the story aspects of splatoon. you either write or read fanfiction and maybe cosplay too. you LIVE for the found family trope, and also probably ship them with captain 3. you have amazing taste :]

neo agent 3: you think lil buddy is the most adorable creature to walk the planet. you wish their initial outfit was actually accessible in the game. you’ve probably only played splatoon 3

cap’n cuttlefish: you’re an og who’s been around since splatoon 1 but still know next to nothing about the lore. you don’t main a weapon, and instead prefer to bounce around. you are… an inscrutable crackhead who i want to study

dj octavio: you’re willing to die on the hill that he is not a villain and only did what he did to support his people [you’re right btw]. you’re actually really chill and fun and i have a lot of respect for you. also, i’m liable to believe that you ship him with cuttlefish, don’t you? DON’T YOU?!?

commander tartar: you’re… ME??? villainous characters are always your favorites. you think octo expansion is a masterpiece [and you’re entirely right]. you’re a splatoon scholar and scour every obscure twitter post and artbook note to satiate your hunger for that sweet sweet lore. there’s something deeply wrong in your head.

mr. grizz: you play a lot of salmon run but are actually kinda bad at it [shhh i won’t tell]. you suffered through after alterna just for his backstory log and the bear ears. i’m going to go out on a limb here and say… you have daddy issues

smollusk: you LOVE the idea that marina and pearl are its adoptive moms. you’ve beaten side order with every palette. you overuse the “🥺” emoji. you miiight be a little annoying, but your heart is in the right place… probably

acht: either the chillest person you’ll ever meet or the most insane. probably both. you’re 100% queer and probably neurodivergent too. i bet you listen to will wood and / or tally hall. i wanna be your friend

harmony: you know every chirpy chips song by heart. you’re probably really sweet and i know you make banger fanart. you have an affinity for cute things and i bet your favorite pokémon type is fairy. DEFINITELY neurodivergent.

cq cumber: ???you both confuse and frighten me!!! what can i even say? you’re a cryptid! but honestly, you’re kinda iconic. i salute you, you freak of nature🫡

iso padre: I LOVE YOU. you’re accepting of all people and are just an absolute saint in general. daddy issues, but you’re coping way better than the grizz fans. also, i’m betting that you’re neurodivergent

sheldon: i didn’t think you existed, but turns out that you do? you actually listen to his rambles. splatoon 2 is your favorite game in the series. you’re able to see the value in things that others tear down and y'know what? i respect that [not saying i approve of your character choice though]

judd: wait, why him? ohh wait, i know! you probably just don’t care about splatoon’s story at all and / or love cats. there, that’s totally it, right?

lil judd: you either DON’T know his lore and just like the cute little kitten, or you DO know his lore and you’re unhinged. i’m scared of you

spyke: you’d bark for him without hesitation and DON’T pretend you wouldn’t. you clown. you absolute freak. i know what you are. /j

murch: if i had to bet, you’re probably the shy type who prefers to let others do the talking for them. you might secretly be a little freaky though, and i think you should embrace that side of yourself. you’re safe here. be free.

[vendetta-if]

Jess, honestly, why are you doing this to me?! I - not my MC, no - I AM DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH JACKAL! Now, I would never want to go between Luka and Jackal. They're a super awesome, wholesome power couple... But could you imagine writing a small interactive snipped, where we could play as Luka? I completely understand if you can't. However, I needed to ask. I'm sure I'm not the only one who likes Jackal and many of us would greatly appreciate a short story, no? *puppy eyes* Fyi, I have save slots currently unavailable because I need a save for all Jackal appearances to reread them whenever. You honestly made me a little obsessed with him. I want to be Luka so bad. T-T Also, have a nice day! .. and thanks for the Rin update. Great job as always! Much love, anon

Ayy, I’m always happy to see some Jackal love 🥰🤭 He’s definitely really fun to write and I have like an entire huge backstory about him 😭 Kinda sad since I can’t really fit more than a drop of it in Vendetta. The sequel spin off, where you play as Jackal’s and Luka’s kid, might reveal some more though.

And speaking of side stories and interactive side stories featuring Jackal… I think I have two side stories currently featuring him and I’m pretty sure both are available to public 😁 For those who haven't checked it out, I made a masterpost containing the links to all the public side stories so far and you can check them out here.

First one is three part on how he first met Luka from his POV [Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3] and the second one is a two part on the moment he and Luka finally became official couple [Part 1 | Part 2].

I’ve been thinking on writing a series of side stories on Jackal’s backstory including his early “relationship” with Luka. I’ll definitely do it whenever I have free time, maybe chipping away at it bit by bit in addition to working on the main story and the patreon voted side stories and spicy side stories 🤭

And funny you mentioned an interactive side story because I already have an idea on the story, just need the time to actually write it. I think I’ll focus on that first before the big series of stories on Jackal’s backstory 🤔 So many things to do with such limited time per day 😭

Also, I saved this video because it’s giving off Jackal vibes (also works for Ash since they are both motorcycle enthusiasts):

[mandos-mind-trick]

Blessed Silence

Summary: You haven't known silence for eight years after your soulmate link manifests as a telepathic connection.

Pairing: Tech x reader, soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, unrealistic first time sex, Soulmate AU so feelings just kinda happen, reader does have a sort of backstory but everything else is ambiguous, reader also is written as female bodied

A/N: I had most of this written, but I just needed some motivation to finish. Turns out avoiding feelings is a good motivator for writing smut. I kinda like this one. It was supposed to be a short fic, but it wound up sorta long. (This is the cut down version too, it was longer.)

MASTERLIST

Your brain hasn’t been quiet for almost eight years. 

It was near non-stop, constant chatter about anything and everything. Things from battle strategy to medical knowledge to ship specs, planets, species and languages you’d never even heard of. Your brain was full of it all the time. 

The worst part? It wasn’t even your doing. 

You had questioned for a long time what your soulmate link might be. Most species have them, and they vary depending on each unique link. From marks to timers to telepathy the list goes on and on. You’d know, you frequented that list often. 

Many, many times you had gone through every option on that list, waiting for something to seem right. You had no marks, no timer, no strange dreams, no color blindness. For years you had nothing. You had wondered perhaps if there was something that had been missed, another way soulmates might present themselves that was unknown. 

Or maybe, you didn’t have one at all. 

Until about eight years ago when the thoughts had started. They’re not your own. The voice isn’t yours whispering them. At first you had thought you were going crazy, hearing some voice going at rapid speed in your head. 

Reading back through the list had made you realize what it was. 

You had a telepathic connection with your soulmate, and the nonstop chatter was your soulmate’s mind. 

It really is nonstop. 

The only time it quiets is when he sleeps, and that is sporadic and only in short bursts. 

At first it had been enchanting. You had laid in your bed for hours, listening to his voice think about anything and everything. Quickly, though, it had grown to be almost annoying because he never stopped thinking. Always his brain is going, thinking of things that don’t even make sense to you sometimes. 

That being said, he has been helpful to you a few times. You forget he can also hear your thoughts, since he was almost always drowning you out. A few, sparing times, he had helped you, like when your speeder broke down and you were determined to fix it yourself to avoid overpaying for a mechanic. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, but upon looking at various parts in the shop, you had drawn a blank on what you needed. 

Then, whispering quietly in your mind, your soulmate had told you which parts to get, and had walked you through repairing it. You had thanked him, and then got a barrage of mechanical knowledge and more facts about speeder designs than you had ever wished to know. 

As much as it annoyed you, hearing his voice constantly was reassuring. Your home planet had been entirely untouched by the war, but you had seen news about horrible battles leaving planets permanently scarred and millions homeless. You know he’s involved somehow, given the thousands of battle plans and strategies that flooded your mind constantly. 

It makes you feel a bit better that he has a good reason for not actively looking for you. 

It’s not like you were actively making an effort, but after you had realized he was probably involved in the army, you had squashed that thought quickly. You did want to meet him, if only to slap him for keeping you awake with his constant thoughts, but you weren’t searching him out. 

Fate would allow your paths to cross eventually. Right now was not the time. 

Then the war ended. It’s rather abrupt, with hardly more than a holocast from the Galactic Senate announcing the end of the war and the formation of the new Galactic Empire. You had never cared much about politics, or the war, because your planet wasn’t likely to ever feel the effects of any of it. Largely ignored due to its rather inconvenient placement away from hyperspace lanes and tucked into a far edge of the outer rim, your home was frequented only by those looking to hide. It’s a good spot to do it. 

Despite this, nothing about the end of the war or the new Empire felt right to you, mostly because your soulmate feels that way. There's little you can do about it, and it seems he also agrees. 

The battle strategies begin to shift. Deserter is a constant thought in your soulmate's head. Had they left the army after the war ended? You can't blame them, especially as news begins to reach your planet about the Empire. 

You wonder about your soulmate sometimes, if he's okay. You know he's not exactly safe, given the thoughts you hear. 

Not once has he worried about you. Not once has he even asked. Not once has he tried to communicate. You blame it on his situation. You blame it on his stress levels which have been through the roof. 

You try not to let it hurt. 

So you go on with your life as you had before, desperately trying to keep your farm going. It’s getting harder as time and the planet’s unpredictable weather wears on your tools and your home. You fix what you can, and hope the rest of it makes it to the next harvest. 

You’re in town looking for parts when it finally happens. 

It’s been nearly six standard since the war ended and the Empire took over the galaxy. Your planet still remains untouched and unbothered, hidden away safely in its corner of the galaxy. Visitors are still rare, and usually draw attention when they come. 

You’re haggling for a part when you notice a group of newcomers. Five of them, looking out of place as they talk amongst each other. 

You can't help but overhear the conversation, given your proximity. Your body stiffens as you pick up one of their voices, many thoughts running through your head. You know that voice. You've never heard it in person. Only ever in your mind. 

The emotions leave you like an explosion, your body turning before you can stop it. "You!" You point at the group, cutting him off before he can continue. 

They all turn to look at you, but you're too focused on him. You walk up to him, grabbing him by the chest plate and shaking him.

"Do you ever stop thinking? I haven't known silence in eight years!" You jab a finger into his chest, ignoring the way your finger bends uncomfortably against the unrelenting plastoid. "It never stops. Always something going and going and going. Do you even sleep anymore? And, and you can’t even bother to let me know you’re okay? You...you can’t even ask about me either? I’ve been waiting a long time to even hear from you and all I get is useless facts?” 

He blinks down at you from behind his goggles, mouth parted in shocked silence. 

“Tech,” One of the others says, drawing you back to reality. You’re in a very public place, telling off your soulmate. “You know her?” 

Tech. That’s his name? Or perhaps a nickname. He lifts a hand, adjusting his goggles as he stares down at you. He’s tall, having to tilt his head to look down at you, just as you have to tilt your head to look up at him. 

“Yes, I believe I’ve just met my soulmate.” He says slowly. They all turn to look at you, making you feel a bit self conscious. “We share a telepathic connection. It’s one of the rarer forms of soulmate links, though not the rarest. It’s affected by distance, the further you are, the stronger the connection is.” 

“Maker, he talks as much as he thinks, doesn’t he?” You say, taking a step back. 

“Ha!” The largest of the group exclaims. “That’s going to be really loud for you!” 

“Actually, it will be the opposite.” Tech says. “As the link strengthens with distance, it weakens the closer we are. At this proximity, we won’t be able to hear each other’s thoughts at all.” 

“As interesting as all of this is, we’re supposed to be laying low, remember?” The one that had spoken up earlier says. 

You can’t help but snort, looking up at him. He’s shorter than the others, and has a skull tattooed on half of his face. “No one around here is going to say anything. Well, they’re all horrible gossips because nothing ever happens around here, but don’t worry. They only talk amongst each other. If you’re looking to hide, this is your place. No one cares about this planet. It’s too inconvenient.” 

“She’s right.” Tech says. “It took us two days to reach here from the nearest hyperspace lane. The Republic had no interest in this planet. It’s highly unlikely the Empire will even consider it, since it has a small population and no major exports.” He pulls out a datapad, typing rapidly on it. “According to my research there’s not even a starport on this planet.” 

The one with the skull tattoo stares at you hard, like he’s trying to see through your skin. You can tell he doesn't exactly trust you. But, if Tech’s thoughts were anything to go off of, he doesn't have good reason to trust anyone. 

“This may be our only option for the time being.” Another one says. He’s rather gaunt and pale with a headset on. 

The four of them share looks, seeming to silently communicate for a moment before they turn back to you. “Do you know of anywhere we could lay low for a while?” The skull tattoo asks her. 

You shrug, sizing up the largest of them. “Well, I could use some help on my farm. If you’re not opposed to manual labor, I have plenty of space.” 

They share another long look, silently debating your offer. You’re not sure why you’re offering space to total strangers, aside from possibly some free help for the upcoming harvest. Also, perhaps, because one of them is your soulmate. 

“We’ll take you up on that offer.” Skull tattoo says, turning back to you. 

You nod. “Great. I’m out on the outskirts, though. It’s a bit of a hike.”

“We will fly and meet you there.” Tech says. “I can find it.” 

“Right.” You nod. Of course he could just read your mind and figure out where it is. “I guess I’ll see you there.” 

You head back to your speeder, setting off out of town and out to your property. You glance up as a ship flies overhead, landing at the back of the house as you drive up. You park in your usual spot, watching as they leave the ship. Skull tattoo takes the lead as they approach you. 

“I’m Hunter.” He introduces himself, motioning to the others. “This is Wrecker, Echo, Tech, and Omega.” He motions to the youngest, a girl no older than fifteen, who waves at you with a smile. 

You introduce yourself, waving back. 

“Thank you for doing this.” Hunter says. 

You shrug. “I am serious about needing the extra help.” 

“Whatever you need, we’ll do it.” He says sincerely. 

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” You say, glancing at the setting sun. “You can get settled tonight.” 

You lead them inside, wishing you had tidied up a bit. Then again, you hadn’t really expected to have company. The house feels small with the five extra bodies in it. Just like it used to. 

“My room’s down there.” You point down one of the hallways, before turning to the other. “The three spare rooms are down here.” You lead them down the hallway. “There’s spare clothes in the dressers you’re welcome to, if they fit. There’s blankets in the closet and towels in the fresher. There’s also an outhouse by the barn if you’re feeling brave. I’ll let you get settled and go start on dinner.” 

You scurry your way down the hallway, leaving them alone. You can practically hear the rebuking by your grandmother at letting complete strangers into your home so willingly. It’s not like you had anything of value left. 

And they’re technically not strangers. At least, not totally. 

***

You curl up in the chair, looking out at the light bugs dancing over the crops. A figure steps out on the porch, slowly approaching you. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Despite only being around him for a short time, you feel like you’ve known him forever.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, turning to look at him as he sits. 

“I have no need to.” He says simply. You blink at him in confusion. “We were designed to need less sleep than the average nat-born.” 

“Right.” You say slowly. 

“We are clones.” He explains, holding your gaze. “We were created as part of an experimental unit exploring various enhancements. Hunter has enhanced senses, Wrecker increased strength, and I have a high intellect.” 

“That...makes a lot of sense.” You say. “I figured you were involved in the war. I heard all about your battle strategies and whatnot.” 

“Yes, that could have been very inconvenient if you had been involved with the Separatists.” He adjusts his goggles as he stares at you. “The Kaminoans weren’t sure if the clones would experience soulmates, but the first generation began developing links almost immediately. It complicated things, as soulmate links are strong motivators and many clones deserted in order to find and be with their soulmates. The Kaminoans had to take rather extreme measures and forbid us from attempting to contact or initiate the bond. Those that met their mates had to reject them, as the Jedi do. When I realized we shared a telepathic connection I was worried that may put the Republic in danger, but I assessed you were not a threat.” 

“Thanks.” You say flatly, taking in his words. 

“I wish we could have come sooner, but with the Empire after us after we deserted, I didn’t want to put you at risk. Now that things have settled down, I brought us to this planet in hopes of locating you. I used your thoughts to discern which planet you were on and if it would be suitable for us to hide, or perhaps even settle down somewhere permanently.” He continues, barely pausing to breathe. “I did pay attention to your thoughts. I didn’t understand many of them early on, but I’ve grown to understand you.” 

You blink a bit at his words. He had located you solely on your thoughts, which meant he really had seen and heard them. Even though he hadn’t responded much, and from what it sounds like for a good reason, he had still heard you. 

“You think a lot.” You say lamely, scrambling for a reply. You’re not quite sure what to say. For a while you had been upset that he seemed to ignore you, but from what it sounds like, he hadn’t been ignoring you at all. 

“Yes, a byproduct of my genetic enhancements.” He says. 

“It’s strange, now.” You say, leaning back in your seat, looking out at the town lights in the far distance. “Everything’s so quiet. As annoying as it was sometimes...I never really did feel alone. You...had perfect timing.” 

“Well, they do say fate is never wrong.” 

You smile. “I guess so. My grandparents built this place from the ground up. They were fugitives, on the run from the Republic.” His eyes widen a bit at that statement. “They came across this place by accident, like most do, and decided to settle down. My parents stayed here too, keeping it running while my grandparents got older and eventually passed. My brothers left as soon as they could. I haven’t seen them since. It was around that time you showed up. Shortly after my dad got sick. My mom didn’t last long after he passed. That left me alone. Well, alone with a clone talking in my head.” You smile softly at him. “I’m glad you’re here now.” 

***

You wake early as usual, the others rising around the same time. Must have been a side effect of being a soldier. You make breakfast before heading out to the barn. You start Wrecker and Hunter on moving some things before taking Tech and Echo to the barely functioning equipment. 

“This one’s the most important.” You pat the combine affectionately. “I was in town to get a part when I ran into you yesterday. She starts, but as soon as you put her in gear, she dies.” 

Tech rubs his chin, staring at it. “I can fix that.” 

The guys settle in easily, jumping right into helping you with the farm. Tech and Echo are a blessing in disguise, quickly getting all of the equipment back up and running more efficiently than they had before. Wrecker and Hunter help you with the more physical things, setting everything up for the coming harvest. Omega becomes your shadow, happily learning about the plants, their growth stages, and how to know when they’re ready to harvest. 

It feels nice, having the farm full of life again. It feels like it used to, when your family had been all together. In a way, you’ve found a new family. You know your parents would be proud, after they got over the shock of you letting complete strangers in. 

After the farming equipment is fixed, Tech moves his sights to the house, fixing and updating everything he can get his hands on. Anything broken or almost broken, he’s quick to jump in with an “I can fix that.” 

You both also begin to grow closer, albeit slowly. Just as you had suspected with his raging thoughts, he constantly needed to be doing something. Finding time to be alone with him is hard, even with the others trying to help. Currently his attention is being taken up by a schematic for a new barn. He had already planned out an expansion of the house for the others for more privacy, which was a sweet thought, but you want to have time with him. 

Your moment comes when you get up late one night, heading to the kitchen for a drink. Your mind has been running nonstop with the harvest nearly upon you and all of the details you had to make sure were perfect. It’s a bit different this time, now that you have help, but habits are hard to break and you can’t stop trying to make sure every little thing gets addressed. 

You head into the kitchen, spotting a glow from the living room. You peek your head around the corner, spotting Tech lounging on the couch in the dark, face illuminated by the glow of a datapad. 

“Tech?” You ask quietly, stepping into the living room, flipping on a light. “What are you doing out here?” 

He looks up, barely moving the datapad. “Wrecker decided to lock me out of the room tonight.”

“Oh.” You say lamely. “That’s not very nice.” 

He shrugs. “Can’t say I’ll miss his snoring.” 

You bite your lip, staring at his scrunched figure on the couch. You shift on your feet nervously, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You could...come to my room.” 

Your heart is pounding a bit as you stare at him. You had yet to be so forward with him, both of you dancing around that first step. He stares back over the top of the datapad, eyes wide. For a moment you regret offering. For a moment you wish you could hear his thoughts again. 

"It...might be more comfortable." You hurry to add, not wanting to scare him off. "I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep right now and I could use some company."

He moves slowly, hesitantly. He pushes himself to sit up, rising from the couch. You forget how tall he is, used to seeing him hunched over something. You turn, making your way to your room. He follows behind you, carrying the datapad with him. 

You turn to him as your door closes, his eyes scanning your room. He’s drawn to the photos on the wall, ones of you and your family. You come to stand next to him, telling him about each photo. Perhaps you’d have to add some more soon. 

“My grandparents.” You point to the last one. “After their first harvest. They were so good at this, running a farm. They made it seem so easy.” You move, sitting on the edge of your bed. “There’s so much to think about, though. Everything has to go right because if one thing goes wrong it can mess up the harvest and ruin your entire year. They were so effortlessly good at it. It was like a second sense. They knew exactly when to harvest and could read the weather just by looking at the plants.” You shake your head, tears brimming. “I’m so scared of failing. It’s so hard to do alone and...I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

He kneels down in front of you, setting the datapad on the bed. His hand cups your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. His thumb wipes the tear that slides down your cheek, his gaze soft as he stares at you. “I can fix that.” 

He says it so softly, so sweetly, you want to melt right into the bed. You lean into his touch, feeling the rough fabric of his glove. You desperately want to feel his skin against yours. You stare into his eyes, feeling the magnetic pull between you. You can’t help it, the tension that had been building up over the last few weeks since you’d run into him in town beginning to boil over. 

He’s hesitant as your lips touch, holding back a bit. He’s probably never been kissed. You haven’t either, just going off of what feels right. You can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, the thoughts that are probably racing. Once again, you wish you could hear them this close. 

“You’re thinking too much.” You whisper, pulling away for a second. 

Your fingers grab at his shirt, pulling him in closer as you kiss him once more. He finally moves, his arms slipping around you. You pull him as close as you can, your own arms wrapping around him. You never want to let go. You want to stay in this moment forever. You finally feel whole. For the first time in a long time you don’t feel alone. 

Tech’s hands slip under your thighs, lifting you as he stands. It’s so effortless, like you almost don’t weigh anything. He kneels on the bed, dropping you against the pillows. He falls with you, catching himself on his hands above you. You stare up at him, shivering at the intensity in his gaze as he stares down at you. 

“Tech,” You whisper, reaching for him as he lowers himself into you. 

His body slots between your legs perfectly, like he was made to be there. Well, in a way he was. He fits against you like you’re two puzzle pieces, every ridge of his body matching the slope of yours. 

He kisses you harder this time, pulling his gloves off. His bare hands trail up your arms, awakening every nerve ending as they go. Your body feels alive with energy as he touches you, your brain screaming for more. You want to get closer, you want to feel every bit of him that you can. 

“I can feel it,” He murmurs, trailing his lips down your throat. “The soulmate link. The bond between us forming. It’s been studied over and over but still the actual science of it is not understood entirely. At first they thought perhaps it was brain chemicals sending the signals, but while those do play a role, it’s not entirely what draws two people together so perfectly.” 

Your hands tug at his shirt as he rambles, your own discarded on the floor already. “And I don’t think they ever will.” You say, tugging his shirt off as he sits up. “I don’t think it’s something that can be explained in words.” 

He stares down at you, his eyes trailing down your body. Your chest warms a bit under his gaze, your skin prickling with anticipation. “You are sure this is what you want?” He asks, as if it was even a question. 

“If you don’t get me naked right now...” You don’t have to finish the empty threat, his hands tugging your pants off in one pull. 

You’re already wet, your body more than ready for what it had been anticipating. Most soulmates didn’t make it weeks after finally meeting and initiating their bond. Of course, you and Tech had had minimal contact with each other, but your proximity had been very close. You’re not sure how you’ve made it this long, aside from the mounting stress of the coming harvest keeping the desire at bay. 

Tech slides his hands along your sides, sitting up between your thighs. He parts them gently, staring down at your glistening folds. You smile softly, sitting up a little and grabbing his hand. You guide him to your clit, guiding him on how to please you. 

You moan quietly as he takes over, picking it up quickly. Thank the maker he’s a quick learner. You let your body drop back onto the bed, sighing out another moan. “Kriff, Tech. Just like that.” 

The pleasure builds within you, igniting your body. It feels so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. There’s a coil tightening in your belly, pressure building within you. 

You grab his hand before you cum, stopping him. “I want you inside me.” You say, sitting up to tug at his pants. 

He stands from the bed, letting them drop. You gape at the size of him, opening your legs wider. He crawls between them, pumping his hand over his length a couple times. “I’ve never done this before.” He says, staring down at you. 

“I haven’t either.” You say, swallowing nervously. You’re not sure why you’re nervous. You trust him. 

You wrap a hand around him, guiding him in place. He lowers himself to hover over you, letting your hand do the work. You wince a bit as he presses in, putting a hand on his hip to still him. You probably should have prepared a bit more for this, but you’re too desperate to feel him to care. 

You squeeze his hip, telling him to move. Your arms wrap around his back, holding on as he slowly works his way inside you. The stretch burns a bit, but his lips on your shoulder help distract from the discomfort. 

He groans once he’s seated inside you, his face pressing against your neck. You cling to him, finally feeling whole and content since his arrival. You can’t help but feel like this is where you’re supposed to be, right here in his arms. Despite the discomfort you shift your hips, moving him inside you. 

“Tech,” You murmur, your lips brushing his ear. 

He hums against your neck, gently kissing the skin. 

“Move.” You say, shifting your hips once more. 

He presses up onto his elbows, looking down at you as he begins to rock his hips. It’s a bit awkward and sloppy at first, but he picks up a rhythm quickly. Your lips part as you stare up at him, holding his gaze behind his goggles. You get lost in the intensity of them, the focus as he stares at you. You want to know what he’s thinking, you want to know what’s running through that head of his right now. 

He leans down to kiss you as his fingers find your clit, swallowing your moans as you cum. His thrusts turn sloppy, pressing into you once more before he releases inside of you. You both stay still, lips brushing in soft kisses as you take each other in. 

Tech pulls away from you, stepping into your fresher to grab a cloth to clean you both up with before he slides under the covers with you. You rest against his chest, wrapping an arm around him as he holds you. 

“Tech?” You ask, breaking the comfortable silence. He hums, fingers tracing patterns on your back. “You could have easily unlocked the door.” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I could have. Perhaps I was hoping for an invitation.” 

“You’ve never needed one.” You lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You know that. You’ve always been welcome here.” 

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry

[icypopz]

with a physically flexible s/o ♡

↬ from anon ; 👋 hello. i saw that you write for blue lock (thank u) and i was wondering if i could please request headcanons of meguru, hyoma and rin with a s/o who's physically flexible. it's ok if you don't write this, i hope you have a great day.

↬ notes ; bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma & itoshi rin x gn!reader

↬from ice ; had fun writing this bc ive always wanted to be flexible LOL living out my dreams in fiction

↬ warning(s) ; joking threats, spoilers for chigiri's backstory

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ bachira meguru ! ]

bachira would be very impressed the first time he sees you showcase your flexibility. actually, scratch that. bachira is impressed every single time you do even the simplest tricks because he can't seem to wrap his head around how a human can be so... stretchy?

he's your #1 fan! every time you're stretching even before you start contorting, bachira will be cheering for you like "go y/n! yeahhhh! you're awesome!" he lowkey likes seeing how you get embarrassed because of his enthusiasm. (he thinks it's adorable.)

definitely wants you to teach him how to do the most extreme stunt ever, but you convince him to start off with something more beginner-friendly like splits. bachira is super focused while you're teaching him, and after a few days of stretching, he finally gets it! he's so proud of himself and he just does it All The Time for no reason until raichi threatens to break his legs.

he also may or may not make some jokes about you putting your flexibility to good use with him but will never go too far. he just likes teasing you and seeing your reaction. tells everyone else in blue lock that his s/o is the most flexible and coolest person on the planet, they've all heard so much about you by now that they swear they already know you.

more content utc !

[ chigiri hyoma ! ]

chigiri, as we all know, is a prince who always manages to keep his cool. so even if you suddenly start performing crazy feats the most this man will react is probably just his eyes widening. don't worry, he's really impressed, he just doesn't show it on his features.

however, he makes up for it by asking you a million questions about your flexibility! nothing invasive, of course, just queries like "when did you start attempting stunts?" "why do you like it?" "how do you even do that?" it shows how invested and interested he is in your flexibility because it's something that makes you happy.

chigiri is also quite concerned about you though. he knows that contorting yourself into all these positions isn't going to be easy on your muscles and tendons, so he reminds you to warm up and cool down every time you start stunting. he just doesn't want you to experience the same pain he did of having his dream almost ripped from him when he tore his ACL. so he might come off as slightly overprotective, but he has good intentions at heart!

he likes stretching with you for sure. it's just a cute way for the two of you to spend more time together before he's rushing to football practice and you're heading to practice your stunts. you'll both look out for each other and wish each other luck during these little sessions, and it always has to end with you planting a soft kiss onto chigiri's cheek for luck. (he says it's for luck, but actually he just likes you kissing him.)

[ itoshi rin ! ]

rin acts like he couldn't care less about everyone else but you're the exception: you're his entire world and one of the few times itoshi rin has been stunned was when you showed him how flexible you were for the first time. no joke his jaw was on the floor.

he thinks it's an awesome skill, and will kinda gush about it to you at first. he gets shy if you tease him about how many compliments he's showering you with and then gets grumpy. the conversation after that is something along the lines of: "aww, rin, you're so cute!" "no. shut up. i'm never being nice again." "nooo, i was just messing with you!" "too much praise will inflate your ego." "aren't you the biggest egoist here?! hypocrite!!!"

to be honest, he's more impressed by the amount of work you've put in to become this limber. he knows how hard it can be to maintain a specific physique in terms of muscle and flexibility, so he genuinely admires your hard work and effort. rin also likes inviting you to the gym so he can work out/train while you stretch and do your own thing.

rin actually doesn't think about the fact that you're flexible that much. he just thinks it's an added bonus to how amazing you are as a whole already, though he'd never admit that to you for the life of him. (he loves you but he Cannot handle your playfulness.)

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way.

[bitterrobin]

Let's talk about Damian, the League of Assassins and the al Ghuls. A.K.A things to keep in mind when writing them.

You don't have to force yourself to comply with this, but there are some important facts you need to know and things you absolutely SHOULDNT do (be racist or orientalist).

Read on for a long post about Damian and the League and his family - giving context, some research and comic storylines, and characterization.

There are basically three different backstories for Damian.

Batman: Son of the Demon - technically, this baby is unnamed and not completely Damian. But the writer of that comic does still (sorta) resent that Morrison was able to write Damian in current comics while he wasn't. This baby was given up for adoption by Talia and we never see him again. Fans vastly prefer taking this backstory (me) because Damian is NOT a product of rape and Talia is written like herself.

Morrison's canon/the 2006-2011 era - the Damian we know and love. Kinda-sorta. So, in Morrison's whole run - Damian was raised in the League and trained as an assassin. One key point here: Talia DID NOT raise him. Morrison instead wrote that Talia only first met Damian when he was eight years old, and she was out of his life before then. Morrison also completely fucked up by writing Talia as a rapist who assaulted Bruce in Son of the Demon rather than the actual consensual sex they had. While it gave us the character, its not the complete version that many like. (and also its pretty racist)

Tomasi/Gleason's canon in Batman and Robin/Robin: Son of Batman - almost the same Damian as before, with one key difference: we actually get see what his training and life in the League entailed. Additionally, Talia in this version raised him from an infant, thus making his connection with her much stronger. A win/lose situation there. Talia would never raise her son under her father, but we do get a stronger mother/child bond than we ever had before. (Still fucked, but insanely better than Morrison).

From these three versions, only two utilize the League of Assassins in Damian's origin.

The League, then, is very important to his character. By extension, so should Ras right?

In Morrison's canon/the 2009 era - no, apparently. As per Resurrection of Ras al Ghul, he only sees Damian as a vessel for his soul. To stay eternally youthful and does not care for him as grandson in any way. This...is a lot. You could use it for angst. But it's also not in line with Ras' characterization. You could argue that this version of him and Damian have never interacted before but still.

Here's what you need to know about Ras al Ghul. He was and still is: a doctor. A man of science. He loves and wants to save the beauty of nature. Ras is an eco-terrorist. Not a generic assassin. He believes in the life of nature, animals, but he despises humanity for what they've done to the world. He has seen it all, and he canonically laments of loss of endangered species, of ruined habitats and long-gone animals he once cared for.

He also loves his family. A lot. The entire reason he becomes the Demon's Head is because his first wife, Sora, was killed by someone he treated, and then he was imprisoned and forced to co-habit with her corpse. Of course, over the centuries he's been alive, she's become only one reason for his existence, as we see how jaded he sees humanity and how little he trusts people. He latches onto Talia, his surviving daughter, because he loves her and he grieves her mother. He degrades Dusan, the White Ghost, because he cannot bring himself to love him. He was murdered by Nyssa because she felt betrayed and began to despise his love (and inaction). In current canon, Damian is his grandson and he loves him, despite everything.

Of course, it doesn't justify what he's done. But it's a crucial part of his character: the twisted love that cages. The love that binds and says it knows best for you - "I only want the best for you, I want to protect you, I want the world for you. Can't you see that? I can bring you something better." The fact that he's an ancient immortal only adds to the superiority he believes he's giving to his family.

We return to the League of Assassins. SO, the League was canonically created to further his ultimate goal: saving the planet. Again, eco-terrorism. The League exists to cull the human population. Ras believes in utopia, a world without any humans (even himself and his family). Ras is willing to die, eventually, like a really long time from now, if he gets to complete his goal. Thus, the League wholeheartedly believes in him, for the betterment of the world with their savior at the head. Exactly how the League treats their mission and Ras depends on the writer - but it's common to write them as a cult. Almost a religion.

We don't really get a lot about they operate. There are figures like Dr. Darrk and the White Ghost and all the stuff that comes up in Red Robin. We get some interesting ideas and characters in Robin: Son of Batman. But we don't get how the League works. There's no comic that does a step by step breakdown of their finances, operations, assassins, employees, what Ras actually does to lead and impart his vision to his followers.

We go the cult route, then. Here's something that I'm currently exploring and that I think others should too: The League is a global cult that believes in the holiness of death and the end of humanity in order to save nature/the planet. The League is far-reaching. It is eternal. It has existed for centuries, just as long as Ras al Ghul has.

Damian was part of a cult. Depending in your version of events, he was either taken from his adoptive parents or born into the League. Either way, he was indoctrinated. He believes in his grandfather's ideas. His training, canonically, began when he was very young. It was fast paced, trainer after teacher after teacher. He didn't grow attached to them, but he retained the skills. He is raised not just as an assassin. He is raised as an heir. A leader. An overachievement of talent and privileges. He embodies Ras' beliefs.

He is worshipped. A symbol of the cult. A prince. He is dehumanized. He is a figurehead, a piece of Ras that the common folk can touch and see. Damian believes in this superiority, misguidedly thinks they respect him and not the word of Ras. And there begins the struggle.

He grows up arrogant. Manipulated by his loving grandfather into something he really shouldn't be. But there is still Talia.

Either she only met him later in life when he was eight years old, or she was there from the beginning. In both cases, she would NOT stand for her son being treated this way.

Talia is not a completely non-violent character. She has killed before, and does not have the strict rules of Bruce. But she's not an assassin (at least , she didn't used to be). She can cry over a soul lost. She can shoot a gun but with a trembling heart. Talia was raised by her father with affection. She was sheltered, spoiled. She was educated and trained, yes, but she was not made into a weapon. She was taught martial arts for skills, protection, for Ras' paranoid benefit.

She was loved, but Ras has canonically hit her in moments in rage. He has canonically manipulated/threatened her to try and kill Bruce. I fully believe that she would want to protect Damian from as much abuse as possible even if they're both in the League.

You can interpret her split from her father as many things: her love for Bruce, her love for the world, her own love for her father and seeing in horror how twisted he'd become, her need for independence, to be her own woman without Bruce or Ras in her life, an abused child becoming an adult, etc.

Talia also canonically studied medicine (in Cairo). She believes in life. She would impart this onto her son. She wouldn't want him to grow up sheltered as she was, nor would she want him to become a weapon to be wielded. Talia would advocate for him to be taught arts and literature and respect for nature, and to try and give him some sense of normalcy. She was the one who let him keep Goliath. She would never kill Damian's pets (Morrison you have three days what were you thinking?!).

(EDIT: adding some more context to the Talia section of this post!)

After Talia healed Jason using the Pit and sent him to be trained, she left the League in entirety. For several comics, she was entirely independent and drifting - enjoying her life apart from Ras as her own woman.

For a brief moment in comics when Lex Luthor was the US President (yes that happened), he chose Talia to oversee LexCorp. Talia does not like Lex, but she agreed anyway in order to secretly change his company from the inside. While she put on a front to the public and Superman as another cruel businesswoman, in reality she was draining Lex's finances, shifting LexCorp into a more ethical direction, and digging up as much dirt as possible on Lex in order to take him down. She secretly gave Superman information on all of Lex's evil plans as she could, but didn't directly work with him. She wasn't LexCorp CEO for very long, but it was pretty much all she was doing until the events of Death and the Maidens. It can be assumed that while she was a CEO, Damian was being trained in the League in secret.

In Batman: Death and the Maidens, Talia was kidnapped and repeatedly tortured/resurrected in a Lazarus Pit by Nyssa Raatko (her half-sister) in order to brainwash her. She was killed, over and over and over again, then resurrected every single time afterwards in immense pain until she was filled with nothing but primal rage. Nyssa's goal was to use Talia as her own pawn against Ras in a revenge plot. The brainwashing made her a loyal follower of Nyssa, hate Bruce, and made her kill Ras without a second thought. Eventually, they succeeded in taking over the League - leading to the eventual storylines in Robin: One Year Later and Infinite Crisis where Nyssa is shown leading the League (before her unceremonious death). Ras eventually returns in the Batman: Resurrection of Ras al Ghul storyline that precedes Final Crisis/Bruce's death.

Some fans use this Pit event to explain Talia's butchered character in later appearances - making her abusive and cold to Damian and a full villain towards Bruce - as a consequence of this horrific brainwashing. It's definitely a far better explanation for her actions in Batman and Robin (2009) and Batman Incorporated than her sudden heel turn under Morrison. Unless you're completely re-writing her actions in the 2009-2011 era to be more in line with her original characterization, then this explanation is an easy add-in to explain her dynamic with Damian in your fic if you want.

You could take the complicated family dynamics of the al Ghuls and write some seriously heavy stuff on love and abuse and the cycles of trauma and violence. From Rúh to Ras down to Talia/Nyssa/Dusan down to Damian and Mara. It's one big circle.

Speaking of which, here's a list of all known al Ghuls for your convenience.

Rúh al Ghul - AKA Mother Soul. Ras' mother. She's fairly recent, but I think she's interesting enough to include. Unlike Ras' hard beliefs in science, Rúh is very spiritual and a practitioner of magic. Through her, it can be implied that every al Ghul has the possibility of learning magic. She believes in a figure called the Demon. Led the League of Lazarus on Lazarus Island, where she was basically imprisoned for centuries.

Ras al Ghul - real name unknown. The originator.

Sora - his first wife. Deceased. Killed by a raging prince who was healed by the Pit, as Ras did not know what it did back then.

Melisande - his second wife. Talia's mother. Half-Arab, half-Chinese. Deceased. Ras canonically met her at Woodstock (lol). She was murdered by Qayin, the antagonist of Son of the Demon. In some depictions (basically only Morrison) she was revealed to be alive and a fortune teller who hid her identity from Talia. (I think her being dead makes more sense for how Ras treats Talia, and her issues/love for her father).

Nyssa Raatko - I believe she's Ras' oldest child. Technically, she's been dead since Infinite Crisis and has not appeared in comics ever since. Canonically tortured and brainwashed Talia. Led the League for at least a couple months to a year. Half-Russian, part Arab and Chinese. Jewish ?, it's complicated. Canonically survived the Holocaust. Is immortal.

Dusan al Ghul - the first White Ghost. Albino. The forgotten and despised son. Still very loyal to Ras, does not call him father and instead calls him the Demon's Head. Mara's father. Is not immortal.

Talia al Ghul - the younger child. The beloved one. Damian's mother. Is not immortal.

Damian al Ghul-Wayne - you know already.

Mara al Ghul - Dusan's daughter. Damian's cousin. I think they're pretty much the same age. Raised in the League, led the Demon's Fist. Can be assumed to have been trained in the same subjects as Damian at the same time.

Compiling all of this, here's the things to NOT DO when writing the al Ghuls and the League:

Making them animal abusers, encouraging Damian to kill animals or showing him their deaths. The League stands for nature. They would not kill them unless its for food or mercy. It's insanely racist, even, to imply that a group of Arab-based people or Ras or Talia would gleefully brutally murder a puppy in order to teach Damian a "lesson."

Making Ras or Talia comically abusive. Ras would be hard on Damian and manipulate him. He's smart. He knows what he's doing all the time. He'd rather keep Damian's loyalty than turn him against him using physical violence. That doesn't mean he wouldn't ever threaten him, just..idk show some restraint when you write them interacting. On the other hand, Talia WOULD NEVER ABUSE HER SON. You could make an argument for Ras, but Talia would never ever hit her son unless she was forced to.

This is just common sense. DO NOT write the League or al Ghuls as racist, orientalist tropes. Research before you write? Use your brain. Please, I'm begging you. If you think of a concept you think might be problematic, look it up, try and find sources, ask around.

Make Ras weirdly obsessed with/in love with Tim. Seriously. What the fuck. This also weird and racist. I've seen horrendous tik-toks making shitty jokes over this. ITS NOT TRUE. STOP MAKING HIM A PEDO BC YOU THINK ITS FUNNY OR EVEN REMOTELY INTERESTING. Never once has Ras expressed a desire as making Tim "his bride" or some fucked shit like that. I'm going to beat you with hammers.

Having everyone take a dip in the Lazarus Pits/using them extensively to become immortal. As far as I know, only Rúh and Ras have used them frequently. Only they are the immortal ones, the ones arguably driven slowly mad by the unknown sciences of the pit. Talia is not immortal, she's not even that old, and she doesn't have the desire to be ageless. She has to be at least near Bruce's age, maybe younger than him depending on the timeline/your interpretation. Damian did not ever become exposed to the Pits until after he was killed in Batman Inc, and even then- he was NOT resurrected by it. (Actually I don't think he's ever been put into one.)

Having Talia hate Bruce. Like, No? Currently, they have more of a "we are Divorced but still care another but also we don't agree" dynamic. But they were once really in love, star-crossed even, they were married. But Ras and circumstances and even Damian pulled them apart. (I do think writing Damian as a child of divorce is both accurate and kind of funny).

Finally, demonizing all of the al Ghuls and making Bruce's half of the family Damian's saviors. THIS is racist. Full stop. Making his majority white family the "good ones" and "saving" him from his evil brown family is an insanely bad thing to write. We have to see it enough in comics, please don't write it into your fic. There can be redeeming things about the al Ghuls, about his life prior to meeting Bruce. Keep in mind, always, that Damian is part Arab/Chinese, that the al Ghuls are all a mix of Arab/Chinese ancestry and that they should/would be imparting their culture onto him. The League was where he was taught art, to appreciate animals. You could write Talia imparting certain tea preferences onto him, favorite cultural foods, practices, numerous languages. Ras is immensely proud of his own heritage, muddled by age it may be, there's no way he didn't let Damian express himself this way. I fully believe Damian is fluent in various Arabic languages and Chinese, and that his first language is not English.

My final message: think before you write. Consider the actual comics, in fact, I'll put one here for Ras.

Ras al Ghul: One Bad Day. Published 2023. Unfortunately written by Tom Taylor (sigh). Its still good though.

Ras kills some rich guys for facilitating the extinction of the wolf species you see. Of course, Bruce investigates.

Ras kills Bruce, keeps him dead for three months before resurrecting him in the Pit. Damian stays by Bruce's side. There's a lot more, but I implore you to read this comic for yourself to get the full experience.

Thus ends this post. Read this comic for yourself! Have fun writing them, just take these things into mind.

[aarmaudiaries]

i could go on and on about mcd zane’s characterization for HOURS dude i’m so fr. cause like i firmly believe that mcd is the type of media that allows fans to interpret any character however they want because canon is weird and full of plot holes- BUT! personally i could never see mcd zane as anything but a villain. like that man was a FREAK. he slaughtered whole ass villages and hurt literal CHILDREN for fun like cmon guys. and like ik some people aren’t fans of mcd aaron so they kinda ignore his character and stuff but if you do pay attention to his backstory you would really understand why diaries zane is such a horrible person. like he slaughtered the dude’s entire village! you can hate aaron all you want but that was so fucked up . and what’s also horrible about it is like he probably did it to MULTIPLE villages too, cause there was no reason to just only go after falcon claw lets be real, he wanted to do more then that. PLUS literally everything that happened in season 1 ???? dude literally RUINED LIVES. LIKE ARE WE FORGETTING ABOUT ALEXIS ??? OR THE ENTIRE WEDDING DISASTER ?? like WHAT 😭 and again i’ll say that you can redeem zane and stuff in your rewrite i’m not judging anyone for that- i just know personally i could NEVER do that. it just like- kinda takes away from the whole point of his character in the story i feel ? not that you can’t do that cause jess fucked up mcd’s writing tremendously- but i just feel like zane was such a good villain. his purpose was to be a villain. so like- i know that keeping him that way in my rewrite at least is what i’m going to do. like he’s silly and absolutely bonkers insane but that’s part of the charm! the entire reason i think hes cool is BECAUSE of how evil he was. idk i just think hes neat slash derogatory (that’s a joke)

anyways yea sorry if this makes absolutely no sense i’m just rambling atp. if you have redeemed zane in your rewrite feel free to share what you did because i find it super interesting !!!! just don’t take this post the wrong way please i promise i’m not shaming anyone i swear </3

ok but that’s all for now aphblr have a good day/night 🩷🩷🩷

[prettypei]

plot: them with a popular! chubby! fem! s/o; fluff!

reader: chubby! popular! fem! Reader

characters: yuuta, maki

warnings: mentions of fatshaming/homophobia, reader is sassy, mild spoilers for culling game arc (?, spoilers for jjk s2, use of Japanese honorifics, reader and maki are both lesbian in maki's part, a creep in maki's part

a/n: littleeeee bit of a self-insert... I jus wanted 2 write a lil sth LOL, yuuta is 2nd year btw

YUUTA

a little backstory on the reader!! ok soso reader is a 2nd year who's the closest with the first years and in this au you're really close to yuji...you currently maintain a long-distance relationship with yuuta! (let's pretend culling games didn't happen lol)

so let's rewind to the episode where the slice of life is happening (aka the "yuji bf material" ep ACK)

it was just supposed to be the first years but you were in the area too cuz you had just finished a mission, and yuji REALLLYYYY wanted to watch Earthworm Man 4... so you reluctantly agreed to go with them

(ps the first years kinda have a crush on you,, like idolizing ykwim)

so the four of you finished the movie when you recieved a call from your bf

so you talk blah blah blah and you're like "wait, isn't it like 3 am in Africa?" and he replies with a nervous chuckle and a "well,, guess where I am now?" and you literally scream into the phone... okie the fic is down below!!

"You're WHAT?" You screamed into the phone. "(name)-senpai, please shut up." Megumi deadpanned. "sorry, megumi. BABE, YOU'RE WHAT?" "Babe?" The three underclassmen shared a confused look. "Wait, you're here? Like in front of the movie theater? I don't see-WAITHOLYSHITISTHATYOU-" The three of them turned heads to see the direction you were waving in. "(name)!" Yuuta yelled excitedly. "O-okkotsu-senpai!" Megumi said with a surprised look on his face. "Who's he?" Nobara whispered to you, giving yuuta a weird look. "Show some respect." Megumi hisses while glaring at Nobara. "Ah, it's fine!" Yuuta smiles at all of them. "I'm just here to visit my wonderful girfriend!" "Girlfriend?" The three underclassmen feign a shocked expression as Yuuta squishes your cheeks together. "(n-name) has a boyfriend?!" Yuji squeaks. "Don't forget honorifics, it's disrespectful!" Megumi scolds once again, but he's the most surprised one of them all. "I thought you were single!" Nobara pouted. "Well, I'm not. Y'all ain't got a chance with me anyways." You smirked while giving Yuuta a peck on the cheek, leaving him flustered. "Awww... but I wanted to ask (name)-senpai out..." Yuji mumbles. "What?" Suddenly the atmosphere became cold and dark, and yuuta was glaring at a certain someone. "I-I mean-I thought-" Yuji stammered. "Yuu, babe, let's go. Let's go watch Barbie!" You insisted, pulling on his sleeve. "Okay, sure!" Yuuta's entire face lightens up as you pull him into the cinema. "O-Okkotsu senpai sure is scary..."

MAKI

reader is a 2nd year in this too :3

soooo maki is really like NOT open at all about your personal life, it's not that she's embarrassed of you it's just because she doesn't want others to stress her out about marriage, vows... she just wants to live the present

but that doesn't mean that she doesn't wanna share you with her closest friends though! And she's going to... but she keeps forgetting.

so basically you, maki and nobara are having a girl's day out and some creep tries hitting on ya...yk what's gonna happen.

"What do you guys want?" Maki asked you while you guys were lining up for the crepe shop. "I think... strawberry?" "Ohhh I want a blueberry one!" "Okay, I'll line up. You guys can go sit on a bench and rest." "You and Nobara walk to the bench under the tree, chatting excitedly while Maki told the cashier your order. All of a sudden, Nobara stopped talking and narrowed her eyes as a young man walked over. "He-Hello miss?" He asked timidly after tapping your shoulder. "Uh, yeah?" You give him a confused look. "Do I know you?" "N-No... I just wanted to ask for you nu-number...m-mommy...?" He squeaked, fiddling with his hands. At this point, you were beyond disgusted. "What the actual fuck?" You snap. "Get the-fuck-away from me!" "I-I like being degraded..." He whimpers as you push him away from you. "C-Can I get your number...? Promise I'll call you mommy..." "I don't-" "SHHHKKK." A long blade was dug in the bark of the tree behind the man, with only a millimeter to spare. "H-Huh?!" His voice's an octave higher. "Don't you ever touch my girlfriend ever again, scum." Maki growled as she came back with two crepes in her hands. "I-I-I won't! I swear I won't-I'll-I'll never-" "Shut up, little shit." Maki grumbled as she put her hand in yours, the man stumbling away and crying at the same time. "You okay?" Maki asked you with a concerned look. You giggled in response and held her hand tighter. "Love ya."

[nvmbersix]

MINECRAFT STORY MODE JUMPSCARE

lengthy hc stuff under read more <3 a lot of it is also based on my own little bit of rewriting of mcsm's story bcz lets be real its not The Greatest, but it is a fun story nonetheless and i wanna play with it,,

i'm not sure if it was ever established that they canonically live in the city where endercon takes place or they live somewhere on the outskirts of it, but for my personal hc, i imagine they live on the outskirts of endercon's city :]

axel and jesse are both orphans who grew up together, though while axel was born in their hometown, jesse just showed up out of nowhere with reuben. jesse's earliest memory is meeting his bestie by a water fall, but beyond that, he doesn't really remember anything about his own past.

the two of them met olivia when they found her getting bullied by adrien and his friends. they both stood up for her and soon after that, they all ended up being friends - she didn't hail from their hometown either, having actually moved there and was considered an outsider by most people (adrien and his friends especially), so jesse related to her a lot right off the bat

i wanna write more regarding the threes relationship with the order, petra and the ocelots, specifically lukas, but i think i'll wait until i draw them (which might take weeks. or months. we'll see..)

some character centric (cz the other one is backstory centric) hcs:

jesse thinks he's the same height as olivia. he's not. he's the shortest out of the entire group. he denies this reality with all his (tiny) being.

while jesse uses he/him pronouns he's not actually comfortable being referred to solely as a man. he doesn't have a label for it but he feels like he's a lot more flexible than that. he's honestly pretty okay with any pronouns, axel has used they/them and she/her for him in the past, which he really liked

olivia is #1 woman enjoyer worlds biggest lesbian. i loved the idea of her having a small crush on petra, and a BIG puppy crush on ellegard (which died into a normal admiration for an idol after the wither arc). i want to give olivia a girlfriend in s2,, i also think i want to make her transfem, because transfem olivia is so good and she reminds me of some of my transfem friends,,

axel never gives me the vibes that he'd care about romance or anything like that, so i thought of him being aromantic, maybe even asexual? i think he has a very queerplatonic relationship with his friends, specifically jesse and petra :] i also love the idea of him using he/they pronouns. axel's fine with being called a man, but they kinda wanna get silly with it sometimes, yakno?

again i wanna write so much more but this has already taken me like, 30 minutes?? soo i'll just end that here for now hsgjhsgse

[th4tsj4zzy]

hoo boy im boutta get controversial

only 50 notes in and im starting to post stuff abt hsr controversy >:) this’ll be about the sparkle/ratio being racist controversy for the first + second part of hsr’s trailblaze mission for penacony

TW: slavery, slurs, racism, “death” (suicide..? 2.1 hsr quest makes this make sense) spoilers for penacony’s 2.1 quest below the cut

ofc, when sparkle was degrading aventurine for being sigonian, i reacted how a lot of people did and was like “cheese and rice, thats kinda racist dude, wtf-“ i was pretty worried bc hoyo’s had a history with not handling racism in plotlines well (see: eremite world quest in genshin) but i wanted to stay optimistic bc theres a different team working on hsr and maybe theyll be better at handling racism in plot. but honestly? after playing the second part of the penacony quest, i really think that they handled the entire thing pretty well.

probably 50% of penacony’s 2.1 quest was aventurine’s backstory, how being enslaved affected him, his family, and the culture of the avgins/sigonians (specifically the latter). his “all or nothing” nature clearly reflects the fact he’s used to betting everything (despite being paranoid about it since he quite literally lost everything before being taken in by the [pretty] ipc [woman, jade]) bc it makes him seem confident and gives him an image of carelessness, benefiting him in the long run of scheming. the only reason im able to draw this many conclusions about him is because of the amount of character development they give him in the quest.

ofc, im not trying to say that sparkle’s (and “ratio’s”) racist remarks were justified; to put it lightly, they’re leaning into a darker shade of morally grey, even without knowing their purposes for saying such stuff. however, i do think that them being racist to aventurine is a major part of the world building for HSR. him being on the receiving end of their criticism makes us suspicious of everyone else, but also makes us root for him a bit, which helps balance out the scales of distrust and/or dislike the viewer should have of all of the characters. in the beginning of the quest, aventurine’s probably receiving a lot more of the dislike/distrust than the other characters, so we need to at least find a reason to root for him if the writers want us to understand his schemes.

also, sparkle being racist to aventurine for being sigonian and him persisting through all of the hardships his plans and his past bring (despite 85% of it being for the ipc and the other 15% for the mere chance to see his family and find the truth, the latter mattering more than the former) is a narrative that brings tears to my eyes. it resonates with me as a minority race, and im sure many others can understand why.

sure, sparkle used a slur for the real life alternative for sigonia and ratio brings up his past as a slave. we all recognize its not right for her to do that and that the writers are pretty harsh for writing the slur in, but its just the same way in the real world. the writers are just showing us reality in a video game. death and murder and enslavement is really harsh that also reflect the real world, yet they also include it. are we really gonna act like saying a slur is above killing people?