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padmerry · 2 months ago

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Stan twins: codependency & identity issues

“I tell you it’s unnatural for siblings to get along as well as you do,” says Stan to Dipper and Mabel in Not What He Seems, clearly missing his own relationship with Ford before things started to change. “We used to be like Dipper and Mabel,” says Ford in Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls. Were they really, though?

I think what many people don’t get about Stan and Ford’s dynamic as children, or even as teenagers, is that, no matter what Stan and Ford think or say about it, they were not like Mabel and Dipper. That just highlights their lack of self-awareness. Here’s a canon analysis for anyone who cares to understand my point:

Mabel and Dipper have overall very different interests and hobbies and act separately on them. They have other friends and spend time with them—well, at least Mabel has Candy and Grenda, as the bubbly social butterfly she is; Dipper, on the other hand, seems way more preoccupied with deciphering the mysteries of Journal 3, but doesn’t miss an opportunity to be included in Wendy’s cool teenage group, as seen in episodes The Inconveniencing and The Love God (in the latter, he seems to be actually succeeding). As fraternal twins of different genders, no matter how alike they look (and despite Mabel’s joke of being “girl Dipper”), they still manage to retain pretty distinct identities. No issue here.

Mabel does her sleepovers, goes to boy band shows, and has encounters with potential crushes. When a surprised Dipper asks her about her vampire love in The Deep End, she points out, “I don’t tell you everything.” Dipper, meanwhile, explored the town with Soos, went to Wendy’s house, hung out with her teen gang, and overall lived many adventures without Mabel, such as trying to prove himself a man with help of the Manotaurs. I think the episode that shows the healthy independence Dipper and Mabel had from each other the best is probably Carpe Diem, inspired in Alex’s real life frustration with his sister, Ariel, but it can be observed all through the series:

What is shown to us in AToTS already differs from that. The Stan twins were inseparable, and each other’s only friends, as Stan establishes early on in his narrative: “Those bullies may have been right about us not making many friends, but when push comes to shove, you only really need one.”

With his question to Ford in the Lost Legends comic, The Jersey Devil’s in the Details, Stan implies they really did everything together, in a way reminiscent of Phineas and Ferb: “So what’re we gonna do today, buddy?”

Even small details, like the toys in their room, served to show the difference between the Stans and Dipper & Mabel, as Matt Chapman clarifies on the episode’s official commentary:

You also see that at this age, all the stuff that would cross over, that would appeal to both of them. You know, it’s not just like, oh, there’s science stuff here and then there’s like—I don’t know—what little Stan would be into. It’s like, no, they both like all this.

“But Mabel was just as desperate in Dipper and Mabel vs the Future as Stan was in A Tale of Two Stans!” Yes, true. She was, and I do believe her relationship with Dipper was the most important one in her life. But do you think the facts that a) she was already terrified of growing up, as shown in the episode Summerween, b) Candy and Grenda declined her invitations to their birthday party, c) Wendy showed her the apparently terrible reality of being a teenager, and d) Stan told her that it would be fine because at least she would always have Dipper... had nothing to with it? Originally her parents were going to forbid her from bringing Waddles to Piedmont, as revealed in the episode commentary of Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future, as just one more heartbreaking thing on the pile of Mabel’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. (Of course, teen Stan’s circumstances were aggravated by the bad home situation he was being “left alone” in by Ford—just like Mabel! Whose parents were arguing, per TBoB canon, to the point of giving Dipper recurring nightmares.)

Another very important thing is that the poor girl was twelve years old, while Stan was presumably seventeen-ish, an age at which separation would be normal and even expected, with the time for college approaching. In fact, differently from what happened with Mabel, whose imminent separation from Dipper came out of left field through an unexpected proposal by Ford (foreshadowed only by her slight discomfort over how close Ford and Dipper were becoming), there was a blatant rift between the teen Stans that Ford went so far as to acknowledge to Stan’s face. Using Stan’s own words from the Land Before Swine commentary: “Anyway, cut to high school, the guy’s never kissed a girl, prom is coming up, and he asked me for advice. ‘Stanley, I know things have been a little weird between you and me with college, but can you talk to me about girls?’” That was before prom (the one in which a girl threw fruit punch at Ford), mind you.

And still, this is what Stan thinks when he realizes Ford is going to accept the scholarship: “Without Ford, I was just half of a dynamic duo. I couldn’t make it without him.” He saw himself as only half of a whole—no wonder, with the way both twins were pushed to believe this since their birth, when they were both named Stan.

When asked about Shermie, Alex observed that a crucial part of their dynamic is that they only had each other. No younger or older brother to support them. The quote from HanaHyperfixates’ and ThatGFFan’s interview:

In terms of Shermie, I remember asking Rob or somebody at some point, like, “Would Shermie be here, logically? Do we have to see him?” I don’t really wanna see him. I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in Stan and Ford being—sort of having only each other and then losing each other because of their different life paths.

I think the suggestion was, “Maybe Shermie would be a baby. Maybe that would happen.” And being like, “okay sure.”

Let’s not forget, too, the only time Ford ever mentions Shermie in Journal 3—“Sherman Pines’s,” surname and all:

From my own observations about their parents, that point is only driven further home.

Filbrick is, well, Filbrick. I don’t think I need to explain much here; every one of us has different interpretations and headcanons about him, but they seem to all agree on the common factor he wasn’t a good father—how much that can be justified by their time period or stretched to accommodate the most heartwrenching stangst is up for debate, just not a subject for this post.

Caryn is more complicated. I think Filbrick was definitely ‘worse’ than her, so to speak, at least in a more obvious way, and she has canonically demonstrated considerable fondness for Stan in particular—according to her, Stan’s rambunctiousness can be attributed to an excess of “personality,” he’s her “little free spirit.” She was, most notably, one of the two people present at Stan’s funeral if the info on the new website is to be trusted. We see her smiling brightly in the picture of the baby Stan twins included in TBoB, which hints at the fact she indeed liked her kids.

But the fact that she, as an adult, didn’t intervene when Stan was kicked out is simply, in my point of view, inexcusable. One could say she was momentarily paralyzed from an overwhelming fear of Filbrick, as a supposed victim herself, but a) that’s already entering headcanon domain, and b) I think that’s far from the truth and directly contradicting the comics, in which she looks happy and relaxed in the company of Filbrick: initiating contact and kissing him on the cheek, comfortingly stroking his back, looking at him with can only be described as tenderness... I don’t think Filbrick is meant to be seen as a monster, not in an exaggerated way. (He’s shown to be touched by Stan’s little stunt with the golden chain, too.) Just a really shitty father, in a common, boring, more nuanced, no less traumatizing, way.

Borrowing a paragraph from a previous analysis:

To me, the most telling thing of all is the fact Stan calls for Ford to help him, not his own mother. Ford, his brother, same age as him, who was at the moment beyond furious with him and very unlikely to show any compassion. Ford, whose attempts to change Filbrick’s mind would more likely than not have been unsuccessful. Not Caryn, adult, who probably had much greater sway over Filbrick. They say a child’s first instinct is to call for their mama. Clearly not in this case!

I’m not saying, here, that Caryn didn’t care about her boys. I elaborate more on her in the meta referenced above, here.

I find it adorable how easily, without any previous prompting, baby Stanley opens up to Ford about his feelings in the comics. The sheer vulnerability of this moment, seeking Ford’s reassurance that he wasn’t a bad kid; the implicit, profound trust, especially coming from someone like Stan, who grows into a man packed to the gills with toxic masculinity due to what he learned from his father. And the manner in which Ford gently comforts him, as if he were used to doing so. As Stan, too, had been shown to do when Crampelter mocked Ford’s fingers. They were clearly accustomed to being each other’s emotional pillars, in the way that kids who learned early on that they can’t count on adults or lean on the authority figures in their lives start building their own little safe space.

The way I see it, the Stan twins got along extremely well, for better or for worse. No obnoxious sibling bickering. No fights and conflict. How could they? They were literally each other’s only friend. If anything, their first major fight was caused by lack of communication, among many other things; they repressed their frustrations with each other to a ridiculous point instead of simply externalizing them like you would expect of an average sibling dynamic.

Second of all, they were monozygotic aka identical twins, as strongly hinted in the show, comics, and books, and as confirmed by Alex on the TBoB website, the behind-the-scenes DVD commentaries, and Twitter. The first mention of it, in 2015, below:

They were both named Stan, they had the same face. I’ve read irl identical twins’ confessions about the nature of such a relationship re: identity issues and how people tend to treat you, and it’s often not pretty. In the Stan twins’ case, their sense of identity was beyond blurry, and it’s not difficult to see why. If you pay attention to the show or the comics, you’ll see many hints of this unhealthiness: the way they were both called to the principal’s office (“Pines twins,” even though only Ford was an interested party), the way Stan was called “a dumber, sweatier version” of Ford by Crampelter, the way they had already pretended to be each other before, not in their childhood but adolescence (Stan’s idea, according to hilarious extra material in the DVDs).

Baby Ford, in the comics, has demonstrated a tendency to shoulder the blame that should only be attributed to Stan. For example, when he exclaims, “Oh my God! We killed the Sibling Brothers!” Ford, honey, if anyone had killed the Sibling Brothers, it would’ve been your brother, the person who shoved them in the first place. Not you.

I find it adorable that he also grounded himself for Stan! Filbrick had been very clear about grounding Stan, only, not both twins. But Ford stays with him as if he were grounded as well, as if he didn’t even have a choice. Where Stan was, there was Ford, not far behind.

They were an unit. Inseparable. As simple as that.

Until they weren’t.

The science fair incident happens, of course—and it’s worth noting Ford doesn’t consider the possibility that Stan sabotaged him out of jealousy or envy of his success for even a second! Instead, he immediately assumes Stan broke his machine so Ford would stay with him!

Did their codependency end with their separation, then? I’ve seen many people believing that yes, it did.

But mullet!Stan, now an adult, ten years after his fight with Ford, still resents Ford for not staying with him “forever”:

Not only that, but as Rob Renzetti (who is Gravity Falls’ supervising producer and story editor and the co-author of Journal 3) phrased it in this separate interview by HanaHyperfixates, Ford’s absence in Stan’s life haunted him and shaped all his relationships:

Um, I mean, to me that’s—I mean, really, Stan—Stan’s life has been… it’s been… sad, and lonely, since—he really… his brother was his best friend, and he loved him so, and I don’t think, you know, I don’t think any other relationship ever worked out for him, because of what happened between him and his brother.

And by the end of it all, you get Bill calling Stan “co-dependant” (British Bill?) on the TBoB website:

I know you might think, at first, that we should take Bill’s insults with a grain of salt, since he’s 1) Bill and 2) petty and desperate. But Bill has also a track record of trying to hit where he thinks will hurt the most, and he knows people. His insult here is not an isolated thing either. It might have been easily dismissed, I agree, if not for all the other evidence for the Stans’ codependency that I’m currently showing you. It’s just one proof out of many, just reinforcing an idea that’s already presented quite clearly.

If you’re still not convinced, Alex has revealed in HanaHyperfixates and ThatGFFan’s interview that Ford’s entire character was built around the type of person that could plausibility explain Stan’s neediness:

Ford was very much us building backwards. The same way you know a black hole is there by the light warped around it, it’s like, you know the damage someone’s family has done to them by all of their weird tics and behaviors. So who is the character who would result in Stan being this hurt and needy and mad and also longing?

But Stan’s codependency, imo, was always easier to see than Ford’s, to the point people mistakenly think Stan cared more about Ford than Ford about him. (I’ve dedicated an entire meta to debunking that assumption as well, here.)

In the commentary of Society of the Blind Eye, though, Alex added, referring to Ford and Fiddleford’s friendship:

Ford as somebody who lost Stan is kinda looking for—even though he rejected his brother, he kinda needs, he needs that other person, and he tried to find that in this kinda sweet prodigy and he just pushed him too far.

What Alex said about Ford’s relationship with Fiddleford can easily be applied to Ford’s relationship with Bill and with Dipper, since Ford needs “that other person,” needs to be one half of a duo. Ford has tried to recreate his dynamic with Stan again, and again, and again:

And then, of course, we have Ford’s proposal.

What’s really cool about this first image (below) is that it was drawn before Stan even accepted Ford’s proposal, and parallels their childhood picture in Ford’s pocket (one that, per Word of God, Ford has always carried with him, even before his portal days, as explained here) in a very obvious manner:

Ford was already excitedly fantasizing, drawing fanart of them together, picking their outfits and the name of the boat.

But more than that, he also says:

[...] I think it’s time for the Pines twins to join forces again. At least, I hope so. I haven’t discussed my idea with Stan yet. But if I know my brother, he will jump at the chance to find “money and babes.”

And this, to me, expresses both his hope that Stan would welcome his idea and agree to sail away with him and his almost certainty that it is exactly what is going to happen. Ford does mention Stan’s love for “money and babes,” but do you guys think Ford didn’t know what (or better yet, whom) Stan actually loved? In AToTS, Journal 3, and TBoB’s new canon material, we can observe that same certainty. In all three instances, Ford immediately assumes that Stan will show up and come for his call via postcard with no indication whatsoever that the possibility of Stan declining showed up in his mind.

Alex has also commented, in the first interview I’ve referenced:

Those characters at sea—it was so rich. They’re really really funny, because they both have major major blind spots. I can kinda write stories about them as a duo forever, because you can always excuse them both getting hyped on a bad idea for their own reasons, and then you can always come up with a reason for them to disagree about it, and it’s always sweet to see them come together again, because they’re so full of themselves, but they are also both so damaged they desperately need each other.

Not only reinforcing the idea that their codependency was—or at least eventually became—mutual, but confirming that things returned to their status quo. Ford has a black & white mindset, the only way he knows how to be with Stan is a codependent way. They’re either separated and estranged or they’re sailing completely alone on a boat for the rest of their lives. Either rivals or best friends forever. There’s no middle ground for him.

#stanford pines #ford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #stan twins #gravity falls #gravity falls meta #stan twins meta

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intoblonde6ftwbbplayers · 2 months ago

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Stupid Interview

no use of y/n bc im sick of it atp || obvs this isn't a real actress||

pairing; Paige Bueckers x famous actress reader

warnings; none that I can think of there might be brain rot but its used jokingly (im chronically online with the humor of a middle schooler)

summary; Josephine Carter does an interview on the tonight show where she reveals her passion for watching upon wbb and how she thinks Paige Bueckers is attractive.

You're currently backstage waiting to come out as Jimmy Fallon is introducing you. You've been acting since you were little, mainly smaller roles when younger but the second you graduated high school and turned 18 you went into it full time. You went to college but opted for online with your busy schedule.

It wasn't overnight but you got good role in a movie over a year ago and since then producers have been knocking down your door asking you to be in their next movie. It's honestly a dream come true being able to do what you love and have people praise you for it.

And 1 year and 3 movies later you are now pretty well known you've been told. Think like Glen Powell and how everyone knows him now but they didn't really before top gun. That's what people are saying happened with you as well. And this is the first interview you've done in months that hasn't been press for a movie and you're excited.

"The talented and beautiful actress Josephine Carter!" He says enthusiastically to the crowd who starts cheering at the sound of your name and even louder once you step out onto the stage.

You hug jimmy and sit down.

"So Josephine you've really been busy this past year and I mean really because you just wrapped filming a movie which makes that your third appearance on our screens this year which is just unbelievable" Jimmy says in awe.

"woah when you put it like that it does sound a little crazy. Im honestly so grateful that I have been able to work so much recently and each project ive done has been so amazing and I really just poured my soul into each role and am really proud of all of it"

"Yeah it's incredible what you've produced for us both on and off screen as you have been seeing giving back to the community a lot as well as getting your degree. I mean wow you're just on fire lately"

"Oh god yeah honestly I've always liked school and im graduating in May and I feel good and Im proud of everything ive achieved right now. Im just ready for what comes next"

"Speaking of what comes next what is award winning actress Josephine Carter going to do this next month? We know you start filming yet another movie in April but what about March? Any plans?"

"Not that I can- Oh! Yes! Actually big plans. Im watching march madness. Anyone who knows me knows that im invested and I have been for a while now so that's my entire month right there" you say laughing as the end

"March Madness that's a little unexpected? Mens or Women's?"

"Women's of course. And I dont know, ive been watching since Sophomore year of high school and right now this year im particularly invested" you say laughing at the way you know your friends have had to listen to you talk about Paige Bueckers and how she deserves to win countless times by now.

"what's peaked your interest this year that makes it so special?" jimmy asked genuinely curious along with the audience who is waiting for your answer.

"Well you've hears of Paige Bueckers. I mean her story and the entire uconn teams story these past 5 years have just been so heartbreaking as well as inspirational and everything they've overcome together and especially her. I just genuinely think that not only the team has the talent and commitment to win but that they all deserve this one that they truly should win and it would just be the perfect storybook ending if they do. Oh god that was such a yap attack im sorry. my friends say I can get pretty passionate when talking about this" you say blushing hard from embarrassment of rambling.

"No that was very interesting and I think we can all tell you aren't just a casual watcher which makes it all the better. Do you plan on going in person? Supporting Uconn?"

"I dont think so. I mean ill be checking tickets but I dont know it might be too late to get tickets but I will be watching every game no matter what"

the interview goes on and you and jimmy have good banter back and forth. You mention Paige a couple of times while talking about UConn of course as well as answering some questions about your upcoming movie as well as how you school life has been especially not that your done soon.

"Alright Josephine last question of the night... Who is your favorite uconn player and why?"

"Oh god" you say putting your hands on your face to cover you blush

"right ill be honest since I doubt they know who I am or that they'll see this but uh... Paige Bueckers and the why, I mean ive seen clips of her and read the articles, she seems like a good person and you can tell its genuine.. but also have you seen how attractive she is?" you say smiling and blushing HARD.

"I mean she's 6'0 with the bluest eyes and she's just so beautiful how is she not everyone favorite?" you say blushing even harder but laughing just as hard at your own bluntness.

"I cant believe I just said that. Cut that out!" you say to jimmy and turning to look at the producers.

"Well Josephine this is live sorry to say but as always it was a pleasure having you as well as learning about your little crush. Josephine Carter everybody!" jimmy says hugging you goodbye before you walk off.

You reach backstage before it hits you that you just admitted to the entire world that you think Paige Bueckers is fine. No big deal right? How much can you guys fans really overlap? Maybe this interview won't do well you think to yourself.

NEXT DAY*

The end clip of the interview of you detailing exactly just how pretty you think Paige Bueckers is has gone viral. Your entire FYP and probably everyone else's shows different clips of you smiling like an idiot while talking about her and you just want to live in the ignorance of thinking that Paige hasn't seen it even though there's no way thats possible at this point 7.5 million views later in just under 20 hours.

You might be fucked but ignorance is bliss and thats how you're choosing to handle this.

then you get an alert on instagram, Kk Arnold is going live. of course you click on it always enjoying watching them when you catch their lives.

You join and its just Kk talking to someone off camera telling them to come sit down since the live started. Paige comes to sit down and your heart drops when you look at the comments.

'PAIGE PAIGE DID YOU SEE THE INTERVIEW'

'Josephine Carter thinks you're fine!'

'PAGIE GO WATCH THE TONIGHT SHOW INTERVIEW'

'Paige you should dm josephine'

'Paige did you see what Josephine Carter said about you??'

Kk and Paige read the comments but not out loud. God could this get any more embracing?

You got a pop up on the screen telling to request to join. You always click no you've never requested before and you weren't gonna start now you thought to yourself.

But as fate would have it your dog wanted attention at the exact wrong moment and moves your hand causing you to click request to join instead of the 'x' in the corner and managed to knock your phone onto the floor making you not notice.

You reach down to grab your phone only to come back and see Paige is blushing HARD at Kk's phone and Kk has the biggest most evil smirk on her face. You wonder what possibly could have caused this but then a second later your face appears on screen next to them on the live.

oh shit.

"Are you the real Josephine Carter?" Kk speaks first

"oh um yeah I am. Sorry about the request I didn't mean to but my dog made my phone slip and stuff." you say laughing at yourself awkwardly

"Oh hey you're totally fine im glad you did actually because P Boogers over here has been going crazy that her favorite actress knows who she is"

You laugh at that "why wouldn't I? you guys are famous"

"We're famous? Girl boo I guess we kinda are but anyway we seen the interview or at least the TikTok clips of it. You into Paige or what?" she says very excitedly with the biggest smile

"Woah there Kk Im sorry about her. But I saw the interview. You really know who I am huh?" Paige says cockily

"alright alright I do but I mean everyone on this live knows who you are and agrees with me on what I said in that stupid interview. And I can sleep happily tonight know thing there's new clips for edits tomorrow" you say the last part half jokingly but you know you'll end up getting them on your fyp tomorrow.

"You're a fan of the edits? good to know" Paige says

"stop acting like I didn't tell the whole world you're fine shyt yesterday"

kk and Paige burst out laughing at this and you cant help but feel proud that you made her laugh.

"Don't worry Josephine your little rant on Paige last night could not compare to this video we all have of her talking about you." Paige at this comment tried to cover her friends mouth in attempt to get her to stop but Kk wasn't having it prying Paiges hand off her to continue.

"yeah she had us go see your new movie 3 months ago and we got back to her apartment and she would not shut up about how beautiful you are and how your acting is so good and everything about you. so trust she's just as obsessed or even more"

"No bro don't listen to her she's lying" Paige tries to defend but its no use as you know people have already clipped it and Paiges smile and bright pink cheeks have you believe Kk over her.

"Mmmm I think I believe Kk. but I am very flattered Paige it's always a pleasure to know someone likes my movies" you say trying to act nonchalant but failing

"okay so boom! like you have to come to one of the tournament games girly pop!"

"I'll look but there's probably no good tickets left. Il'l let you guys know if I decide to go though!" suddenly your dog comes and jumps onto your bed to howl in your face begging for attention.

"is that your dog?" Paige asks

"yeah she just wants some attention right now. I swear she hates it when i'm on my phone." you say laughing slightly and turning the camera to show your dog laying on her back with you scratching her belly.

"Wait you have a husky?!" Kk and Paige ask at the same time

"yeah I do! her name is nova" before they can reply nova gets up and walks to the front door begging to be let out for a walk you know you should have taken her on 20 minutes ago.

"alright guys thank you for having me but I gotta take her on a walk! It was great talking to you and I'll let you know if I go watch. bye everybody!" you say as you click off the live but before you close the app you follow both of them on instagram.

@paigebueckers started following you!

@kamoreaarnold started following you!

paigebueckers sent you a message!

your heart skips a beat. Maybe you'll try a little harder in your search for tickets.

thanks for reading lovelies part 2?

request are open lmk thoughts or any ideas in the comments

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yumeka-sxf · 11 months ago

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According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #henry henderson #martha marriott #becky blackbell #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

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st4rgiirll · 2 months ago

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heartbeat

percy jackson x afab!reader

percy is like 22 in this 😋

warnings: SMUT!! fingering, cum eating?, swearing, cheating, drinking, jealousy, percy’s ur ex, a little angsty lemme know if i missed any!

notes: i was listening to heartbeat by childish gambino while building chb on mc and this came to my head so enjoy!

the dim lights of the bar pulsed with the bassy rhythm of heartbeat by childish gambino. amidst the crowd of anonymous faces, a flash of familiar hair caught percy's eye. his heart stuttered, memories of passion and heartbreak rushing back. it was her - his ex, y/n. and she looked drop-dead gorgeous in that little black dress he'd bought her for valentine's day last year.

percy's eyes traced the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts barely contained by the flimsy fabric. the skirt hugged her hips and thighs, legs that used to be wrapped around him as he thrust into her. his body responded immediately, cock twitching in his jeans as a wave of desire crashed over him. but then he saw the hand at the small of her back, the tall man leaning in close to whisper in her ear. her new boyfriend. the one who had replaced him.

y/n stepped up to the bar, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned forward to place her drink order. percy's eyes locked on the smooth expanse of thigh revealed by the slit in her skirt. his hands itched to reach out, caress that soft skin, feel her tremble beneath his touch. but he was frozen in place, all the while picturing that boyfriend's hands on her body instead of his own.

the song ended and a new one began, the tempo faster, more urgent. it matched the racing of percy's pulse as y/n turned, drink in hand, her gaze scanning the room. for one breathless moment their eyes met and he saw it - the flicker of longing, the ghost of their past love still simmering in her eyes. but then she glanced away, said something to her date, and turned to leave.

percy couldn't let her go, not without a final word, a last chance to stake his claim even if he couldn't act on it. he strode after them, caught up just as they reached the exit. "y/n," he called out. she froze, then slowly turned to face him.

"percy," she said coolly, though he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes couldn't quite meet his. "funny running into you here."

"can we talk?" he asked, hating the desperation in his voice but unable to stop it. "please?"

she hesitated, glanced at her boyfriend who was looking between them with a scowl. "i… i don't know if that's a good idea…"

"five minutes," percy pressed. "that's all i'm asking for." he reached out, took her hand in his. "please, y/n."

her fingers tightened around his for the briefest moment before she pulled away. "fine. five minutes. and then i have to go."

percy nodded, leading her back into the bar and towards a quieter corner. they sat across from each other at a table, the charged silence stretching between them as they tried to find the words.

"so… you look good," percy finally said, because anything else felt too heavy, too important.

y/n smiled faintly. "thanks. you too." her eyes flicked over him appreciatively and he felt his body respond yet again, straining against his zipper. "how have you been?"

"alright," he replied, though it was a lie. he'd been miserable without her, but he wasn't about to admit that now. "and you? things are going well with…" he couldn't bring himself to say the name.

she nodded. "yes. he's great." but there was no warmth in her tone, no conviction.

they fell into an awkward silence again and percy searched frantically for something to say, anything to keep this conversation going because he knew once it ended, it would be over for good. no more stolen glances, no more brief encounters. just memories.

"what are you thinking about?" y/n asked softly, leaning forward a bit. the question startled him.

"nothing," he lied.

"come on, percy. tell me." her eyes were imploring now, searching his face for answers he wasn't sure he had. "i can see it written all over you."

he sighed, knowing he couldn't hide from her any more than he could hide from himself. "i was just thinking… about us. about what we had."

she looked away then, lips pressed together. "don't do this," she whispered.

"why not?" he challenged, leaning closer. "it's true, isn't it? we had something special and you threw it away."

"because i needed more!" she burst out, turning back to him with fiery eyes. "you couldn't give me what i needed so i found it elsewhere."

the words stung but percy refused to back down. "and is that what he gives you? satisfaction?" he reached out, traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips. "because I remember a time when you were satisfied with me…"

y/n shuddered under his touch, her eyes darkening with remembered desire. "don't," she pleaded weakly even as she leaned into his hand. "we can't…"

"why not?" percy murmured, sliding his hand down to wrap around her throat. "no one has to know." his other hand found her thigh under the table, stroked along the silky skin as he pulled her closer.

y/n made a little mewling sound, thighs clenching together as his fingers slid higher. "percy," she gasped. "i… i can't…"

but she was already lifting her hips off the seat, giving him access to her core. he could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her panties and groaned low in his throat. "fuck y/n," he growled, rubbing her through the damp material. "you're already so wet for me."

"oh god," she whimpered, head falling back as he increased the pressure. her hands clenched on the tabletop, nails digging into the wood.

"you want this, don't you?" percy purred, lips brushing her ear. "you want me to touch you, taste you… make you scream my name." he nipped at her earlobe and she cried out, back arching.

"yes," she moaned, shameless now in her need. "please percy… please…"

he chuckled darkly, hand sliding under her skirt to push her panties aside. two fingers delved into her wet heat and she nearly screamed. "that's it baby," he crooned, pumping into her slowly. "let me hear you."

y/n's head thrashed from side to side as he fingered her deeply, his thumb rubbing tight circles around her clit. her inner muscles clenched greedily around his fingers, trying to draw him deeper. percy could feel her desperation mounting, see it in the flush of her skin, hear it in the sharp little gasps and whimpers falling from her lips.

he brought his mouth to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he increased his pace. his fingers pumped hard and fast into her fluttering sheath, curling to hit that secret spot that made her wild. she was so close, embarrassingly so, he could tell by the way she was trembling under his hands, the little broken cries she was making.

"come on baby," percy urged gruffly in her ear. "let go for me… come all over my fingers like a good girl." he captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as he pushed her over the edge.

y/n came apart in his arms with a muffled scream, body convulsing as pleasure crashed through her. percy worked her through it, fingers never ceasing their movements until she was a limp, shuddering mess in his embrace.

when it was over, he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. y/n watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"that was… wow," she whispered hoarsely.

percy grinned wolfishly at her. "i know, right? and that was just with my fingers." he winked suggestively and she laughed breathlessly.

"i don't think i can handle much more," she admitted, face still flushed. she started to pull away but percy held onto her wrist.

"what if i told you that was just an appetizer?" he raised an eyebrow at her invitingly. "we could head back to my place… or yours… and i could show you what else we've been missing."

y/n bit her lip indecisively but he could see the lust still smoldering in her gaze. she wanted him, needed him just as badly as he needed her. all she had to do was say yes…

"i can't," she said softly but with regret. she glanced away again. "it wouldn't be right."

percy's heart sank but he tried not to show it on his face. of course she wouldn't leave her boyfriend for him. not after everything that had happened between them. he'd known this was a stupid idea from the start.

"right," he said quietly, releasing her hand. "you're probably right." he stood abruptly, ready to end this before he humiliated himself any further.

"percy," y/n said, voice pleading as she reached for him again. but he stepped back out of range.

"no, it's okay. you have to do what's best for you." even if it destroyed him inside. "i'll see you around."

and with that he turned and walked away, leaving y/n alone at the table with her thoughts and the fading echoes of their passionate encounter.

#percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #riordanverse #riordan books #rick riordan #pjo #exbf!percy

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thewulf · 1 year ago

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Escapism || Azriel

Summary: Request -can you make an azriel x night court reader fanfic request? I was listening the song escapism by raye and this just kinda came to me! It's kinda unhinged so you can change whatever if you choose to write it. Y/N and Lucien have been together for like 100+ years but then Elain Archeron comes along and they are mates so lucien begrudgingly breaks up with Reader... Read Rest Here

A/N: This one is sad but gets sweet towards the end. Reader is in her feelings!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k +

TW: Drunkeness, reader being mean, some physical altercations

Your relationship with Lucien had always felt destined. Willing it to be woven by the threads of fate and bound by centuries of love and laughter. For over a hundred years, you and Lucien had built a life that straddled the boundary between the Autumn Court and the Night Court, which you called home. It was a life full of compromises and sacrifices, but every moment was a testament to the depth of your affection for each other.

But fate had a funny way of not being so destined. Elain Archeron stepped into the picture. Her very presence unraveling the future you had envisioned. When Lucien revealed that Elain was his mate the foundation of your world crumbled. This wasn’t just about losing a lover. It was about the rending of a bond you believed was unbreakable. Lucien’s voice trembled with conflict as he confessed the truth. His amber eyes reflecting a pain that echoed your own. He didn’t want to leave you, but the mating bond was not something either of you could fight. It was powerful, demanding, and absolute. It was destiny.

Amidst your heartbreak a more piercing pain emerged when you discovered that your friends—Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and even Nesta—had known about Elain and her bond with Lucien before you did. Half of the Inner Circle knew, and the other half was excluded. Amren, Mor, you and Azriel were the ones left in the dark. They had kept it a secret hoping to protect you from the inevitable heartache. Yet this revelation only deepened your sense of betrayal. How could they, the ones you considered family, keep you in the dark about something that would shatter your life?

The night you found out was an uncomfortable one. You weren't usually one for confrontation, but the rage that built up inside you was ready to explode. As you sat among Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta in the quiet, imposing space of the House of Wind the air felt thick with tension. They began to explain, voices low and fraught with anxiety. They each detailed how they had known about Elain and Lucien’s mate bond for months. Their words were meant to be comforting but were instead filled with reasons and justifications about protecting you from heartache, sparing your feelings until they absolutely had to share the truth.

Sitting across from them in the quietude of the House of Wind you couldn’t hold back the surge of anger and disappointment that welled up inside you. "How could you?" you demanded, your voice quivering not just with sorrow, but with indignation. "You all knew. For months, you knew, and not one of you thought to warn me?"

Rhysand had a somber expression. He was the first to respond. "We struggled with whether to tell you," he admitted. His usual confidence replaced by a hesitancy that did little to quell your growing resentment. "The last thing we wanted was to see you hurt."

"And yet, here I am. Hurt all the same," you shot back. The pain sharp in your voice. "Hurt and betrayed. You chose to protect me from heartache but instead you ensured it."

Feyre reached out with her hand tentative and unsure. "We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it might not happen. That maybe the bond wouldn’t take hold right away and..."

"And what?" you interrupted ripping your hand away from her touch. "That I’d what? Be spared the pain? Look at me, Feyre. Do I look spared to you?" Your voice was sharp. Sharper than you’d ever spoken to any of them before.

Cassian who was usually the one to lighten the mood sat unusually quiet. His usual bravado nowhere in sight. Nesta had her jaw set, her eyes revealing a turmoil that mirrored your own. It was a rare glimpse into her often-guarded emotions.

"It was never about doubting your strength," Cassian finally said, his voice low. "It was about giving you happiness for as long as we could."

"Happiness built on a lie?" you asked. The irony was bitter on your tongue. "Is that what our friendship is about? Lies?"

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Each of them struggled with their choices, now clearly regretting the pain those choices had caused. It was evident in their downcast eyes and the slump of their shoulders. It was a shared burden yet unequally felt.

"I'm not just some fragile piece of glass," you continued. Your anger only fueled by their silence. "I deserved to know, to make my own choices. To prepare, or... to say goodbye on my own terms."

The conversation that followed was a painful unraveling of trust and intent. As they each tried to explain, to justify, you realized that this wound would take time to heal. Perhaps what stung the most was the realization that their intentions had robbed you of your agency. Leaving you to a mere spectator in your own life. They spoke of protection. Of sparing you pain. Each explanation threading through the air with the weight of unspoken truths now laid bare. Their voices blended into a cacophony of excuses, each one fueling the fire of your anger and hurt further.

Rhysand’s voice held a note of desperation as he tried once more to explain, "We only wanted—"

"Would you just shut up! All of you!" you erupted cutting him off mid-sentence. Your voice, resolute, sliced through the room. "I don't want to hear it. Nothing you can do or say will make this right.” The room went deathly silent. The gravity of your words hanging heavily between you. Their faces were etched with regret and shock at your outburst. It was a stark reminder of the deep rift that had formed within your group.

You stood abruptly. The chair scraping sharply against the floor. "I can’t be here," you stated flatly. Your voice colder now, resolved. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, each step echoing your departure.

You needed space. Needed air to breathe away from the stifling atmosphere of justifications and apologies. You decided to go to Mor’s place. She too hadn’t known about Elain and Lucien. She hadn’t been part of the deceit that had upended your world. As you left the House of Wind the open sky above seemed to offer the first breath of true freedom since the revelation had shattered your peace.

The walk to Mor’s was quiet. The streets of Velaris holding a serene calm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you. Reaching her house, you knocked briskly, and she opened the door with a surprised, yet immediately concerned expression.

"Can I stay here for a bit?" you asked without preamble. The weariness in your voice more pronounced now that you were away from the others.

"Of course," Mor responded instantly before stepping aside to let you in. Her eyes searching yours for the pain she was quick to sense. "Whatever you need."

As you stepped into the refuge Mor offered you felt a slight unclenching in your chest. A small relief in the acceptance of a friend untouched by the deceit that had marred your trust in others. You hoped to find the space to heal. To gather the scattered pieces of your heart and perhaps, in time, to forgive. But for now, you simply needed the quiet understanding of someone who had been kept in the dark as much as you had.

Compounding your agony was the necessity to leave the Autumn Court where you had spent half your time with Lucien. You had to come home completely now, full-time to the Night Court. Each step away from the Autumn lands was a reminder of the isolation waiting for you back home. Away from the life and love you had known. The Night Court felt more oppressive than ever. It was supposed to be your sanctuary but now it only served as a cage. It was trapping you with your memories and your pain.

Despite the profound sense of betrayal and the sharp sting of heartache that pervaded your days you chose to stay because Velaris was still home. It was here among the winding streets, the starlit skies, and the vibrant buzz of the Night Court that you had grown, loved, and dreamed. Leaving would mean abandoning not just the place but the fragments of yourself that still clung to the hopes and dreams you’d nurtured here. The thought of leaving Azriel, the one constant who understood your pain without needing words, whose silent strength had become your sanctuary, felt like severing the last thread of stability you possessed. In the depths of your turmoil, Velaris, with all its darkness and lights, remained a place where healing seemed possible. Where the pieces of your broken heart might someday mend.

You withdrew into yourself. Your nights consumed by reckless escapades and endless drinking. You shunned daylight, avoided responsibilities, and ignored the worried glances of your friends. Azriel, who had always been a silent sentinel in your life watched from afar. His shadowed gaze filled with concern that you were too lost in your grief to notice.

This spiral of despair drew you deeper into the depths of the Night Court where you sought oblivion in the bottom of a glass. You hoped and prayed it might wash away the ache in your soul. Your heart felt like a hollow shell, beaten, and bruised by betrayal and loss. You had to wonder if you’d ever find your way back to the light.

As the days bled into nights your world narrowed to the dim corners of taverns and the bitter burn of liquor. Training sessions were skipped, duties neglected. Each glass raised was an attempt to erase the sting of wasted years. You had given a century of your life to Lucien, woven dreams and plans tightly around a love you believed was mutual. Only to find it undone by a destiny that held no space for you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your love had been a placeholder until his true mate appeared.

You felt like a fool, a pawn in the grand scheme of their secrets and politics. This revelation forced you into isolation. You could hardly stand to look at the people that left you in the dark. Let alone speak to them. Only Mor and Azriel became your solace. Mor who had also been kept out of the loop shared in your feelings of betrayal understanding the deep cut of being excluded by those you loved. Azriel, too, had been kept in the dark, his complicated feelings for Elain used against him to justify the secrecy. You found it cruel. A manipulation of his unspoken affections that only deepened your trust in him, knowing that he, too, had been a victim of their concealments.

Azriel watched over you with a quiet intensity. His shadows whispering of your pain in ways words never could. He knew the depth of your heartbreak having borne his own silent loves and losses. From the shadowed corners of the room, he observed your self-destructive spiral with a growing sense of desperation. There was an understanding in his eyes, a shared recognition of love unreturned that made him reach out to you despite your withdrawal.

Your interactions with Azriel became the few moments of genuine connection in your days. He didn’t push you to speak or to return to the life you’d left behind. Instead, he simply shared your space. Offering you a silent solidarity. His presence was your calm. And in his eyes you found the empathy you’d been denied by so many others. Yet, even this comfort was tinged with the bitter knowledge that it was borne from shared pain. Something created from the fragments of your broken hearts.

On one particularly rough evening, feeling the dull ache of wine coursing through your veins, you sought the familiarity of the library. It was a place that once offered solace, but now it felt like navigating an once beloved yet distant landscape.

Staggering slightly, you found yourself pushing open the heavy door of the library. The scent of old books and ink momentarily grounding you. Inside Mor was tucked into her favorite nook surrounded by a mountain of scrolls and books. Her presence immediately brought a smile to your face and without hesitation you blurted out, "Mor! My girl, let's go to Rita's." Your voice wavered with a mixture of forced cheerfulness and palpable pain betraying your already intoxicated state.

As you made this impromptu invitation you were acutely aware of Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel gathered in a solemn cluster near the grand oak table that dominated the room. Their conversation was likely heavy with undisclosed burdens. They paused abruptly as they noticed your entrance. The library usually a sanctuary of whispered lore and hushed dialogues felt oppressively silent as their eyes fixed on you.

With a deliberate effort to mask your pain with a veneer of cheerfulness you ignored Rhys and Cassian completely. Instead directing your gaze to where Azriel stood, his figure cloaked in customary shadows. "Hi, Shadowsinger!" you exclaimed. Your tone lighter than your heart felt. It was easier to pretend. To keep up the facade of resilience than to acknowledge the jagged pieces of your heart.

Mor quickly stood, catching the tail end of your forced merriment. Her eyes flickered with a mix of concern and understanding. She exchanged a look with the others. Her expression pleading for them to somehow mend the chasm that had opened between you all. But when she saw you purposefully ignoring Rhys and Cassian, her shoulders slumped in resignation. Recognizing the depth of your pain and your current incapacity for forgiveness.

She packed up her belongings. Her movements deliberate. "You're going one way or another, aren't you?" she asked you. Her voice was filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. It wasn't a question, but a statement. A knowing of the inevitable path the night would take.

"Yes. I need to not think… just for a little while," you replied. Your own smile faltering as the false cheer began to crumble under the weight of your true feelings.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a glance with a mix of frustration and regret marring their features. They understood that their attempts at reconciliation would be futile this evening. Azriel stood silent and observant. He met your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. He nodded slightly. A promise that he would keep you safe even if from a distance.

Even as you grappled with your feelings of betrayal and heartache Azriel had already found it within himself to forgive Rhys and Cass for keeping the truth from both of you. His capacity for understanding their motives. Flawed as they were by their protective instincts, allowed him to see past the pain they had inadvertently caused. Azriel recognized that their actions stemmed from a deep-seated desire to shield both him and you from the inevitable pain of Lucien’s bond with Elain.

You, however, found forgiveness not so easily granted. Your feelings of betrayal were compounded by the thought that your closest friends had decided your fate without your input. Treating you more like a fragile object to be protected rather than a person capable of facing harsh truths. While Azriel had moved towards reconciliation you remained rightfully stubborn wrestling with a wound too fresh to close

With Mor in tow, you left the library. The heavy silence settling back among the shelves after your departure. Azriel followed discreetly. A shadow among shadows. His concern a tangible cloak around him as he watched you attempt to drown your sorrows under the guise of revelry at Rita’s. The night stretched before you. It was filled with the echoes of what could have been and the sharp sting of what was now your reality.

At Rita’s the ambiance had devolved into a haze for you. Each drink an attempt to erase the sharp edges of your reality. The buzz of the crowd and the clink of glasses were a distant backdrop to the storm raging inside you. As you reached for another glass your movements were sluggish and unfocused. A stranger slipped beside you, his smile too eager, his intentions unclear. He offered you a drink with a slick insistence that made your skin crawl even through the fog of alcohol.

The moment your fingers grazed the cool surface of the glass Azriel materialized at your side. His movements were a blur. The glass knocked from your grasp and shattering against the hard floor with a resounding crash that sliced through the bar's cacophony. "Enough, Y/N," his voice cut through your stunned silence, low and laced with an urgency that tightened his features.

"Why?!" The word tore from your throat, raw and loud, fueled by the sharp bite of alcohol and a torrent of pain you no longer had the strength to contain. "Why do you care? Just let me drown it all out, Az! Let me forget!" Your words were a mix of accusation and desperation spilling out in a reckless cascade.

Pain flickered across Azriel's face His eyes darkening with concern. "It’s not safe, Y/N. That drink. That male was trying to drug you. I can't—I won't let that happen,” he insisted. His voice firm despite the chaos around you.

Rebellion surged within you, potent and bitter. "Don't do this to me, Azzy!" The nickname was usually a term of endearment but now sounded like a rebuke, heavy with your anguish. "You can't save me from this. Let me have this!"

Your attempt to pull away was futile against his strength. Azriel’s eyes scanned the crowd one last time giving more a quick nod, his decision made in the span of a heartbeat when she nodded back. With no other choice as you continued to struggle against him he wrapped his arm securely around your waist and winnowed you both away, the world dissolving into shadows. You reappeared on a deserted hillside just outside the city. The sharp, cold air was a slap against your heated skin. The stark silence a jarring contrast to the noise of Rita’s.

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself, Y/N. I just can’t,” Azriel implored, his voice thick with emotion as he steadied your staggering form.

"Destroy myself?!" you screamed back. The frustration and hurt boiling over. Your hands balled into fists. Your entire body tense with pent-up emotion. "My life is already destroyed, Azriel! I've lost everything. My love, my dreams, my worth! What's there left to destroy?"

In your anguish you lashed out physically, pushing against Azriel's chest with all the force of your despair. He staggered slightly but didn't push back. He of all people understood your need to vent the storm of emotions inside you.

“You haven’t lost everything,” he tried to reassure you but even he knew where your head was at. You weren’t going to listen to him.

"I have!" Your voice broke, raw and quivering with the intensity of your pain. "For a century, I loved him, Az. A century! And for what? To be discarded when his real mate shows up? What does that make me? Just a placeholder? I'm worthless, Az. If he couldn't even love me, who will?"

"No, Y/N, that's not true—" Azriel began but you cut him off again. Your hands pushing against his shoulders trying futilely to move the immovable.

"No, you don't get it!" Tears streamed down your face blurring your vision as you swung a punch. Your fist connecting weakly with his chest. He absorbed the blow with practiced ease. His expression pained more by your words than the physical contact. "Everyone has someone… Feyre has Rhys, Elain has Lucien now... and me? I'm alone. Utterly alone. Who could love someone so... so replaceable?" Your words tumbled out as a cascade of hurt and insecurity forgetting in your pain that Azriel himself had known the sting of unreciprocated feelings.

Azriel caught your wrists gently, stopping your strikes. His gaze intense, a mix of pain and resolve flickering in his eyes. "Y/N, listen to me," he implored. His tone firm yet tender. "I understand more than you know. I've felt that loneliness. That fear of being unloved and replaceable. But you, Y/N, you are not replaceable to me. You’re invaluable. You’re loved deeply by those who truly know you, even if you can't see it right now."

Your resistance faltered with tears spilling over as his words washed over you revealing his own vulnerabilities. You sagged against him, your energy spent, your sobs muffled against his chest. Azriel didn’t just offer comfort. He shared your grief, understanding it from his own unspoken heartaches.

"Because you mean everything to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. A confession laden with the weight of his own once-hidden feelings. "And I refuse to let you believe you're anything less than that." In his embrace you felt a sliver of solace pierce the veil of your despair. Perhaps you weren't as alone as you had believed. In the quiet of the night with Azriel, you dared to hope that your heart could find a way to mend.

As your sobs quieted into weary, shuddering breaths on the hillside, Azriel recognized the depth of your exhaustion and despair. With a care born of years spent navigating the shadows, he scooped you up into his arms. His strength a quiet reassurance in the enveloping darkness. You were too lost in your own misery to protest. Your body limp against his chest as he winnowed you both back to the sanctuary of his room.

Once inside Azriel carried you straight to the bathroom. The soft glow of candlelight casting gentle shadows across the walls. Setting you down with the utmost care he turned on the tap letting cool water fill the basin. With a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his usual stoicism, he soaked a soft cloth, wringing it out gently before turning to you.

"You're safe here, Y/N," he murmured. His voice low and soothing as he began to dab at your face. Each gentle touch wiped away streaks of makeup and tears revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. His hands were steady and careful. Moving with a respect that honored your brokenness without making you feel more fragile.

Seeing you so shattered, so utterly surrendered to your grief, stirred a protective tenderness in him. After he had cleaned your face he helped you out of your clothes and into his own. Each movement was respectful and patient. His eyes averted to give you privacy even in your despondent state. He chose a soft shirt and loose pants. Clothes that would comfort rather than constrict. When you were dressed he guided you to his bed with his arm around your waist both a support and a shield. The world seemed to quiet as he tucked you under the covers.

You lay there, a small, fragile form in the vastness of his bed with your eyes staring blankly at the shadowed ceiling. Azriel hesitated, watching you with a mix of concern and a poignant ache to ease your pain. Unable to bear the distance, he lay down beside you. His body a careful line of warmth at your side.

As you lay next to Azriel his presence enveloped you in a tenderness you hadn't fully seen before. The night around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind outside and your own unsteady breaths. Azriel's room was usually a place of solitude and shadows. It felt different now. Warmer, filled with a quiet strength and a palpable gentleness that radiated from him.

"Let it all out, Y/N," he whispered next to you. His voice was a soft command in the darkness, soothing and deep. His hand found yours under the blankets, his fingers intertwining with yours. You felt a sob rise again. The emotions overwhelming.

He didn't shush you or tell you to be strong. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter. His grip a lifeline in the turmoil you felt. His presence was a vow of steadfastness. A promise not spoken but felt deeply.

Lying beside him, you realized you had never seen Azriel so openly gentle and caring. His usual reserve and cool demeanor were replaced by an earnest tenderness. It was as if the night had peeled back a layer of his persona revealing the depth of his empathy and the true extent of his kindness. This wasn't the Spy Master known to most. The one that was cold and calculating, always in the background. This was Azriel as only someone he truly cared for might see him. His kindness wasn't just an act of comfort. It was a testament to his genuine concern for you. To love you when you felt most unlovable. To be there in every low and hold you through every shadow.

"I'm not going anywhere," Azriel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are loved, deeply. Even when it feels like you're alone. You are important to me. More than you could possibly know."

With Azriel's words wrapping around you like a gentle embrace you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that you might one day feel whole again. His kindness, his unwavering support reminded you that even in your most broken moments you were not alone.

Azriel didn't rush you or demand that you compose yourself. Instead, he simply held your hand throughout letting the quiet solidarity of his presence anchor you back from the tempest of your grief. As the emotional exhaustion of the day's events caught up with you, your eyelids grew heavy with the weight of sleep tugging them down.

With Azriel's fingers interlaced with yours and his calm breathing next to you, a profound fatigue began to blanket your senses. It was the kind of tiredness that came from having wept thoroughly and being in the presence of someone who demanded nothing of you but to be yourself. Slowly, the room around you seemed to fade away as you drifted into sleep. The echoes of your turmoil quieting into silence under the protective watch of the Shadowsinger.

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains you stirred, slowly emerging from the restless grasp of sleep. Your body felt heavy. Each movement laden with the remnants of last night’s despair. As you shifted, trying to orient yourself, you realized you were entangled with Azriel. His arms loosely draped around you, his body a protective barrier against the chill of the morning.

Opening your eyes fully, you met his gaze—alert, intense, yet filled with a softness that was reserved only for moments like this. He had been watching you. His eyes tracing the lines of worry and sadness that had settled on your face even in sleep.

The memory of last night's breakdown. The raw pain, the tears, the desperate words, rushed back in vivid clarity. You were suddenly mortified. The intensity of your vulnerability making you feel exposed and small. You tried to pull away, intending to escape the intimacy and your own mortification. But Azriel’s arms tightened instead, gently but firmly keeping you in place. You faced him, cheeks burning, and your words stumbled out in a flustered rush.

"Az, I... I'm just so—sorry," you stammered as if the words tripping over each other. "For hitting you, and—everything. I wasn’t... I shouldn’t have..."

He was quiet for a moment. His gaze steady and understanding. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and calm, cutting through your babble of apologies with effortless precision. "No apologies," he said simply. His eyes locked on yours conveying depth beyond words. "It’s okay."

"But I lost control, and I—," you tried again. Your voice a tangled whisper of regret and embarrassment.

Azriel gently shushed you with a slight shake of his head. "You needed to let out," His tone left no room for argument. "I’m here. That’s what matters."

Your attempts to articulate the mess of emotions felt cumbersome and inadequate compared to his succinct reassurance. You swallowed hard. Your next breath shaky as you tried to reconcile the kindness in his actions with the turmoil you felt inside. The warmth of his embrace, the quiet strength in his few words, slowly coaxed the walls around your heart to lower. His acceptance was simple and unwavering. It granted you the space to be vulnerable without the burden of judgment.

"You're here," you spoke softly. A statement rather than a question. You allowed yourself to lean back against him, finding a measure of peace in the security his presence offered. In the quiet that followed his steady breathing became a reassuring rhythm in the soft light of dawn, anchoring you amidst the remnants of last night’s storm.

As you settled deeper into Azriel's embrace, comforted by the warmth of his body and the protective enclosure of his wings around you profound sense of security enveloped you. His wings isolated you from the chaos of the world and allowed the weight of your troubles to recede momentarily.

Within this intimate cocoon Azriel's hands gently soothed you, tracing calming patterns along your back and occasionally running his fingers through your hair easing away the knots of both stress and sadness. This gentle touch, combined with the protective embrace of his wings, invited a deeper relaxation and a fleeting peace.

"You're safe here," Azriel whispered. His voice a soft rumble that was both reassuring and grounding. "You will always be safe with me."

His words were simple yet deeply meaningful. They comforted you, encouraging a slow, steadying breath as each word seemed to ease a little more of your turmoil. Surrounded by his presence the room no longer felt like just a physical space but a sanctuary against all your fears and uncertainties.

As Azriel offered a rare comfort his mind was awash with thoughts and feelings for you. He had always admired your strength, your grace, and the kindness that seemed to illuminate your every action. Even when you were with Lucien he had noticed how your presence could soften the hardest of hearts and brighten the darkest corners. His feelings had been kept hidden. A secret shadowed beneath his stoic exterior as you had seemed unreachably intertwined with someone else.

Azriel's interest in Elain initially served as a safe distraction from confronting the deeper, more intense feelings he had for you. Now with the situation having changed and the possibility of being more than just friends emerging. He realized that his feelings for Elain had been a way to guard his heart against the more daunting prospect of a deeper connection with you. Recognizing this, Azriel was determined to be patient. He understood the importance of timing and your need to heal. He knew that any possibility of exploring something deeper with you would require careful consideration and respect for your emotional state. Thus, he was prepared to wait. He would offer his support and presence as you navigated your path to recovery, hoping that when you were ready, he might have a chance to express his true feelings.

In this quiet moment as dawn's light began to seep through the curtains, Azriel made a promise to himself for you. He would be there for you not just as a protector or a friend, but as someone who loved you deeply. Even if that love must remain unspoken for now. He would help you heal, support you in finding yourself again, and offer his love silently, unwaveringly, during the times you found it hardest to love yourself.

"Whatever comes next, I'm here. We'll face it together," he murmured. His voice a soft echo in the quiet room. This promise was not just a commitment to support you through your healing but a silent acknowledgment of his hopes for the future. A future where, when you were ready, he might share his heart openly with you. For now, though Azriel would be your steadfast shadow, a silent guard to you with a love profound yet patient. Waiting for the moment when your heart could welcome the depth of his.

As the morning stretched lazily into afternoon, the quietude of Azriel's room was punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of you resting against him. The previous turmoil had ebbed away leaving a calm that hadn't been felt in a long while. In this peaceful interlude you slipped back into a deep, restorative sleep, cradled by the warmth of Azriel and the secure embrace of his wings.

While you slept Azriel carefully extricated himself to prepare a simple yet thoughtful meal. He moved quietly, his shadows flitting about, almost as if they were checking on you. Ensuring that your slumber was undisturbed. He returned with a plate bearing a light lunch.

As the soft light of the afternoon filtered through the curtains you slowly awoke from the deep, restful sleep. You had been vaguely aware, even in slumber, of their comforting presence. Something that went beyond Azriel's physical proximity. It was his shadows, those silent watchers that typically hovered at the fringes, manifesting his will, and echoing his moods.

These shadows which normally adhered to Azriel’s strict commands with unwavering discipline, had over time, subtly changed their behavior around you. It started with small gestures—shifting slightly to cloak you in warmth when a cool draft swept through the room, or playfully fluttering around when your spirits were low, trying to elicit a smile. Gradually they had begun to act almost independently when it came to you. They were drawn to your innate warmth and light. The same qualities that Azriel himself cherished deeply in you.

As you stirred awake, stretching and yawning, the shadows seemed to mimic the morning’s embrace. Azriel watched from beside you with a slight smile playing on his lips as his shadows caressed your arms and legs. They were reluctant to withdraw their gentle touch even as you became more alert. He made a subtle gesture, a silent command for them to give you some space, expecting immediate compliance as always.

To his surprise and slight amusement, the shadows hesitated. They lingered around you. Their formless caresses a tender contradiction to their usual stark obedience. When you noticed their reluctance to leave you couldn’t help but to giggle. The shadows seemed to flutter with a visible delight, moving closer as if encouraged by your laughter.

"It’s okay, Az," you said. Smiling at the unusual scene. "I don't mind them, really. I actually quite like them."

At your words the shadows almost appeared to swoon, swirling around you with what could only be described as affectionate enthusiasm. Azriel watched this with a raised eyebrow and an ever-widening smile, clearly amused by their outright defiance when it came to you.

"They're not usually this defiant... or affectionate," Azriel remarked. His voice tinged with both bemusement and a hint of pride. "Seems they've taken quite a liking to you."

You watched the shadows swirl around with a playful grace. Their cool touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Smiling, you responded, "The feeling's mutual." At your words, one of the shadows playfully swooped up mimicking a kiss on your cheek.

The whimsical gesture drew another giggle from you, a sound so light and joyful that it seemed to brighten the entire room. Azriel watched you with a deep warmth filling his heart as your laughter echoed softly. The sound so rarely heard in your despair was so full of life and free from the burdens you had been carrying, It was a melody he hadn't realized he'd been longing to hear. It reminded him of the resilience and beauty within you, qualities he had always admired now shimmering through even in your laughter.

Azriel’s gaze softened as he watched you interact with his shadows. The corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine delight. It was rare for him to see his shadows disobey but in this instance he found the situation endearing rather than concerning. The shadows, so attuned to his deepest feelings perhaps recognized the special place you held in his heart and chose to express their fondness in the only way they knew how.

As you continued to enjoy the playful affection from the shadows, Azriel leaned back, content to observe the bond forming between you and parts of his own essence. This moment, light-hearted and filled with laughter marked a significant turn in your relationship. It showed not only his own deepening feelings but also the unique acceptance of his shadows, making you a cherished presence in both his world and theirs.

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tryandbehappy · 1 month ago

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I don’t even know where to start. Let’s break down the writers’ intention first, and then I’ll analyze it.

Out of all the possible outcomes, this was honestly the worst on, not just because it’s the one we didn’t want, but because it’s the shallowest. They used Nick, and the fans’ love for him, just to create a shock twist. What were they trying to say? That someone who survives within Gilead could never deserve a normal life? Maybe I even agree with that idea in theory. But the way they executed his death was awful.

They never actually showed Nick doing anything wrong on-screen. All the moral ambiguity was off-screen. And there was always a possibility they’d twist it last minute to reveal he was a villain. But from the perspective of emotional manipulation? This was brutal.

This is what’s known as a “shock for the sake of shock” a writing device where the creators deliberately go against the logic of their own story just to trigger an immediate emotional reaction: surprise, grief, rage, disbelief. It can work if the twist is emotionally and narratively earned, but most of the time, it ends up as narrative betrayal.

Here’s what defines this kind of twist:

-It contradicts everything we know about the character, making the audience feel tricked.

-It destroys emotional investment, because the entire journey we followed with the character suddenly doesn’t matter.

-It lacks narrative honesty instead of letting us witness conflict, transformation, or consequences, the story just drops death like a fact, not a resolution.

-It denies catharsis, we’re left with no space to mourn or reflect because the character is killed despite the story, not because of it.

What we have here: they wanted to make a statement about morality or the system, sacrificing the character for the message, forgetting that this character already means something deeper to the audience.

At its core, this is emotional exploitation of the viewer: build up an iconic love story, layer it with emotional depth and meaning, and then simply say forget it, he died like a dog, and this isn’t even a tragedy, it’s a lesson.

That’s why these twists don’t just make fans sad. they make them feel betrayed.

The Handmaid’s Tale has always been a show about extreme cruelty, but also about resistance, hope, and the idea that good can prevail. And here, they gave us the most intimate, beautifully filmed scenes of love, Nick’s love for June, their bond, his sacrifices and then had him die like a dog. Meanwhile, characters who did far worse things Aunt Lydia, Serena, Lawrence get redemption arcs and walk away cleaner than Nick ever did.

They did all of this to shock us. To hurt us. And the worst part is, they didn’t even let us mourn him properly. Because in the final scene, we’re not even supposed to feel sorry for him. They framed it like he chose the wrong side, that he somehow deserved what happened. And that is just… vile.

Calling this a “love letter to fans” is pure mockery. Especially knowing how they carefully baited us all season giving us beautiful scenes, emotional intimacy, suggestive dialogue. It wasn’t in our heads. It was crafted. And now they call this heartbreak “a gift”? That’s sadism. That’s Gilead-level manipulation.

Nick ends up being framed as the one true “bad guy,” despite everything we know and love about him. Despite his arc, his humanity, his pain. And they didn’t even give him a meaningful death.

So I ask was it worth it? Was this really the story you wanted to tell? And calling it a “love letter” just adds insult to injury.

The whole episode was stuffed with scenes that felt rushed and absurd, with cartoonish logic. And no execution, especially in a brutal regime like Gilead’s, would end the way they portrayed that hanging. Not without real consequences. Not without blood.

So they really want us to believe that Luke and a bunch of handmaids just magically took out a group of armed guards and no one got hurt? That’s honestly laughable. It was childish. The way it was filmed like a playground fight scene.

But what they clearly wanted to show is that Nick was the man who picked the wrong side, and so he “deserved” what he got. All while keeping everything vague and off-screen.

Honestly, I don’t even know how to comment on this anymore. What I do know is that they used the fans, played with us, and mocked the very love story they carefully built. They knew they had created a huge emotional fanbase around Nick and June. They gave us fairytale visuals, Disney-style parallels, deep, intimate moment, all to twist the knife at the very end. That’s not drama. That’s emotional sadism.

And that’s all I really have to say. There won’t be any more videos. I can’t even bring myself to rewatch their scenes anymore. It feels tainted now.

I used to think Peter Quinn’s death was the worst one out there, meaningless, undeserved. But at least he died a hero, trying to save the President of the United States. It didn’t make much sense, sure, and Carrie forgot him way too fast. But at least he wasn’t punished by the narrative.

Meanwhile, Nick’s death? It was framed as something he deserved. because he stayed in Gilead, even after his father-in-law murdered those girls. As if that proves he was never going to change. As if none of his sacrifices ever mattered.

What did they even accomplish with this twist?

Sure, they got their shock moment today, but for most fans, for the majority of their loyal base it’s now unpleasant to even rewatch the show. Rewatching June and Nick’s scenes feels hollow, painful, or even meaningless. And I genuinely don’t understand who does this to their own story. They had something beautiful they could continue to profit from , emotionally, artistically, even financially through rewatchability, legacy, and fan engagement. And instead, they burned it for a one-time shock payoff in season six.

And the worst part? This could have been done beautifully. If they wanted to show tragedy, if they wanted to show how trapped he was they could’ve done it emotionally, meaningfully, powerfully. But they didn’t. They just used us, their most devoted viewers to create a “twist.”

Like, yeah, what’s the most shocking thing they could possibly do?

Serena betraying someone? Obvious.

Lawrence switching sides? Expected.

Aunt Lydia doing something cruel? Nothing new.

But Nick? Nick dying like a dog, stripped of dignity, labeled a villain, denied both love and redemption that’s the twist no one saw coming. And yes, they were right. no one predicted it.

But at what cost? They destroyed the emotional core of their own show just to surprise us for five minutes. Now the rewatch value is gone. The emotional resonance is gone. The love story they crafted and framed as sacred is gone.

All for what?

It doesn’t make any fucking sense. So yeah, this is where we’re at. I don’t know what else to say, guys.

#osblaine #nick june #the handmaid’s tale

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rolanpilled · 2 years ago

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Why I Fell In Love With Rolan, A Character Analysis

I will be going through Rolan's lines, along with the devnotes, to try and explain my interpretation of his character.

This is coming from having spent 30+ hours combing through his dialogues, reading all of his books, listening to every voice line for context, and replaying every scene of his that's currently accessible.

TW: Mentions of abuse, family death, implied suicide

Very long post under cut. Get the Arabellan Dry out!

A few notes before getting into this:

In the game files, Rolan is referred to as "Prodigy", while Cal and Lia are referred to as "ProdigyBrother" and "ProdigySister".

Rolan is a character whose outer words and inner thoughts often do not align - for most of the game, he refuses to show vulnerability in front of Tav, reserving his softness for his siblings. This can be interpreted in a number of ways, ranging from a self-confidence issue to an avoidant attachment style. Though people are free to have their own interpretations, I will mainly be focusing on my own readings of his personality.

I am not a psychologist or a licensed health professional, but I have personal experiences with the mental health disorders I will reference in this post, and I have done a lot of research on the topics involved.

Part 1 - Elturel, and Rolan's past

"Rolan. Just... Rolan."

There isn't much you can tell about Rolan's life except that he's from Elturel and that Cal and Lia are his siblings - after all, he doesn't give you much info in the first place. He doesn't know you, he doesn't trust you. Why would he?

The information you get about his family and his life before BG3 come from minor dialogues, and using Speak With Dead on his corpse. The picture they paint isn't a happy one.

[Player: What's your name?]

[Rolan: Rolan. Just... Rolan.]

[Player: Do you have any family?]

[Rolan: No... family... no one.]

[Player: No family? What about Lia and Cal?]

[Rolan: They are... brother and sister. Cal says... I am family, but...]

Rolan doesn't have a family name. We don't know if Lia and Cal do, but it can be assumed they don't, else he might have taken theirs. The first thing that sticks out to me in this dialogue is that he doesn't consider himself to have a family, even though Cal and Lia say he's part of theirs.

The question is, what could have caused this? If his blood family was simply dead, wouldn't he refer to them as "dead" or "gone"? Instead he says he has "no one" and "no family", perhaps implying that his parents just... abandoned him. Either way, it gives the impression that he has issues with being abandoned, and may project a sense of toughness and arrogance to make up for his insecurity.

And there IS insecurity here - he outright says that Cal and Lia tell him that he's no different from family to them, but deep down, he doesn't seem to be able to accept it. That he can only reveal this information to you after death, having been so guarded in life, is heartbreaking.

As for his life in Elturel, not much is said, but a lot can be inferred from his attitude.

[Cal: Elturel was the last time the three of us talked like this. Let's hope it lasts until Baldur's Gate.]

After leaving Elturel, it appears Rolan, Cal, and Lia didn't have much time to talk. This is from the party scene - a scene where they're drinking, laughing, and joking amongst each other. Clearly the journey hasn't been the easiest for all of them, though one thing we can take from this dialogue is that they've had this friendly, sibling-like relationship for a long time.

From what we know of Elturel and the Descent, things were NOT pretty down in Avernus. Many people died, and after the city was returned to the surface, tieflings were driven out of the city, as we all know. Something important to think about is how exactly this might have gone for the three siblings: how exactly they ended up in the Grove, travelling with the refugees. The context seems to imply that the siblings were travelling on their own, not necessarily considered a part of the group, but this is debatable and not entirely clear.

So what brought them to Baldur's Gate? What finally drove them out of the city? Did they leave before things got worse, or were they driven from their homes with stones and violence? It could really be anything, but the one thing that's clear is that their primary reason for heading to Baldur's Gate is for Rolan to start his apprenticeship with Lorroakan.

We know that Rolan wrote Lorroakan a letter: multiple letters, actually. We're not sure if he wrote to other wizards, but from his dialogue, you can tell that Lorroakan's been someone he's respected for a long time, both for his magical skills and his political beliefs. Though he's never met Lorroakan, you can find a copy of Lorroakan's biography on his desk at Sorcerous Sundries - there's an admiration established early on, and the player is led to believe that Lorroakan is a powerful wizard (though if you bring Gale with you, he comments on Lorroakan's shady reputation, hinting at something darker beneath the surface).

What could have driven Rolan to write so far away, seeking apprenticeship? Was it out of a sense of desperation, wanting to leave the city but needing a way to take care of his siblings? Was it curiosity? A sense that Lorroakan might be his last chance to make something of himself after being denied what he felt like was his rightful destiny? As a tiefling, he must have faced some discrimination for his heritage - I can speak to my own experience here, growing up as a person of color in a majority-white community was genuinely traumatizing to myself and my non-white friends. Not only do we receive open bullying and ostracization for our appearance, there's something even more insidious that often happens to minority populations - neglect. A general disinterest in our accomplishments, a lack of encouragement and attention towards kids that don't fit the norm. If this was something Rolan had to experience, it's no wonder he felt angry and eager to prove himself. He's been neglected his all his life, and he finally has a chance to show everyone who doubted him that he really does have the potential to be a great wizard.

Rolan himself appears to be in his mid- to late- twenties, bringing up the question of what he's been doing his entire life if not magic. It's mentioned that he was able to conjure a flaming cat from when Cal was as young as 8, so depending on the age difference between the siblings, Rolan might have known magic from a very early age. So why, then, is he a mere wizard apprentice at the start of the game? He's surely had a lot of time to learn himself.

[Lia: Try not to get too close, Cal.]

[Rolan: Yes. Remember what happened last time?]

[Cal: I was eight and you magicked up a kitten. How was I supposed to know it was made of fire?]

What could have happened along the way? He might have just not found the time or the opportunity to be able to study, especially as a tiefling without a family or the money to pay for an education. In my interpretation, Rolan carries a lot of unvoiced shame for not having been able to "fulfill his destiny" until now. He projects an outward mask of confidence and arrogance to hide his vulnerability, his insecurities - that his family isn't really his family, and that he isn't really destined for greatness. His natural reaction to vulnerability is anger and denial, which we'll explore more in the later sections.

(It is mentioned in the devnotes, though, that Rolan "has truly worked his ass off to get here". Prodigy is not an ironic title - he's likely had to self-study to the point where Lorroakan felt that he had potential. He has a right to be confident, but it doesn't negate any potential feelings of unworthiness.)

Additional info - Rolan, Cal, and Lia, on top of having known each other since Cal was 8, also share a mother figure, who is deceased. There is no mention of a father. It could be that this was Lia and Cal's actual mother, who took Rolan in, or a number of other possibilities - it could be that ROLAN'S mother took the three in, or that she just happened to be an unrelated woman who adopted three orphans.

[Cal: We should have a little party when we reach the city, like we did for mum.]

[Rolan: That 'little party' lasted from sundown to sunrise. Lia would like that.]

This dialogue can only be accessed if Lia dies but Cal and Rolan live.

So we've set up a few key details about Rolan's personality: his arrogance may harbor hints of insecurity or desperation, he has issues with feeling abandoned or neglected, and he's potentially been denied his chance to learn magic in the past. We will explore these in detail in the next few sections, along with another troubling tendency of his - perfectionism, and the self-blame that comes with it.

Part 2 - The Grove

"I'll not gamble our lives, our futures, for people who are as good as dead."

If you recall his dialogue in the grove, Rolan seems to distance himself from the other refugees, focusing only on the safety of his siblings. Let's unpack this in his own words -

[Rolan: This isn't Elturel and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!]

[Rolan: I made no such oath, and I will not be held responsible for these people.]

This is in contrast to Lia, who believes that they should help what she considered to be their 'kin'. Remember that Rolan often refers to the refugees in a detached way, refusing to associate himself with them.

At a first glance, it might seem like Rolan is fixated on his apprenticeship - he wants to get to Baldur's Gate straight away, so he can begin studying under Lorroakan. Lia accuses him of the same, causing Rolan to react with anger.

But if you think about what Rolan's underlying motivations might be, you might have realized something that Cal and Lia most likely recognized too - he's worried for his siblings' safety.

The grove is an open, unprotected area, and they're being menaced by druids on one side, goblins on the other. There's only a few fighters, Rolan, Cal and Lia among them, and none of them are strong enough to take on either group. Even if Rolan feels a sort of kinship with the other tieflings - which I'll expand on in a second - he prioritizes the lives of his siblings over them, and doesn't want them to sacrifice themselves for people he doesn't even know.

Now, the other theory - what if Rolan doesn't identify with the other tieflings, because he's been cast out by them before?

I'm going to inject my personal experience as an immigrant here. Life as an immigrant can be profoundly isolating, especially if you have few relatives in the area. Rolan may have been so attached to Cal and Lia because they took him in when his own people rejected him - for some reason, even other tieflings could have seen him as an "outsider", and refused to help him when his parents abandoned him or died. If you tie in the theory that he was a tiefling born to human parents (which would be taboo), it could have been that they rejected him for not "being tiefling enough". I'm aware that in-universe there's no one unified "culture" of tieflings, but even in groups without a unified culture, there are still small pockets of people with certain internal customs. It could be that Rolan failed to fit in due to his heritage, that he was rejected for his personality, or some other reason, but my interpretation for his refusal to help fellow tieflings is that he never quite felt the same kinship for them that Cal and Lia did. It could also be that he holds resentment towards them for abandoning him - abandonment seems to be a central theme in Rolan's story, and likely contributes to his feelings of inferiority and unworthiness.

(He does seem to know Infernal, though I don't know whether that's a cultural thing or an innate trait to tieflings.)

If the fight is held at the grove, Rolan, Cal, and Lia stand near the back of the cave to protect the children. They can be found arguing with each other on potential battle positions. Afterwards, if the tieflings and all three of the siblings survive, they can be found by the entrance of the cave, where Rolan again behaves arrogantly towards you and claims he could have handled the goblins on his own.

All of this is quite standard for his character and projects the image of an arrogant, selfish person who only seeks to protect himself and the people that matter to him, which is likely what he wants. It also lends some credibility to the interpretation where he was rejected by other refugees - if he felt neutral towards other tieflings, it might have made more sense if he was less derisive towards them. Instead, he consistently detaches himself from his people, drawing clear lines between them, with a hint of bitterness that seems to have a painful origin.

The rest of Act 1 is Rolan acting like his standard self - bratty, arrogant, and dismissive of others. That is how most of us met him, though he won't stay that way for long.

Part 3 - Moonrise

"But what good am I if I can't do this... this one thing?"

(Author's note: "This one thing" is travelling alone through a cursed, necrotic land, breaking into a prison staffed with dozens of trained guards, and personally facing an immortal chosen of the literal god of death. Rolan is a Level 4 wizard.)

As you already know, at the start of Act 2 Rolan is drinking himself to death alone. His brother and sister have been dragged away screaming by the cultists, and he's overwhelmed at the thought of never seeing them again. Naturally, he's quite angry with you, but if you read his lines closely, you can see that you're not the only person he's angry at.

[Rolan: Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing!] [Devnote: Furious - mainly with himself]

[Player: You're supposed to be at Last Light.]

[Rolan: I'm supposed to be saving Cal and Lia!] [Devnote: Frantic, worried for his siblings]

[Rolan: Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.] [Devnote: Pissed off and taking it out on the player]

[Player: You were trying to help your family - you're too hard on yourself.]

[Rolan: Or not hard enough.]

[Rolan: I've failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way - I'll return to Last Light... I know when I'm outmatched.]

Rolan is someone who feels deeply responsible for the safety of his siblings (this lends credence to the idea that he's the eldest of the three). He may argue and bicker with them, but he could never abandon then, nor could he forgive himself if something were to happen to them. He is clearly carrying an unbearable amount of grief and guilt for allowing his siblings to be captured, but he's so emotionally repressed that he chooses to bury his sorrow under a mound of anger. Being drunk doesn't help - it's mentioned by one of the kids, Ide, that he's been through three bottles of wine by the time the player reaches the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

That much is obvious just from reading his lines, but his angry reaction to the player is, as the devnotes say, a way of taking out his pain and frustration on other people. He might feel guilty about it later, but in the moment, it's the only way he knows how to cope with them. This isn't his only instance of externalizing his self-hatred.

If Cal dies and Lia lives, the player has the option to break up an argument between Lia and Rolan. If they fail to neutralize the situation, Rolan will tell Lia (or Cal, depending on who lives) to get out of his sight permanently.

[Rolan: You deserve nothing. You two are cowardly parasites, and I am disgusted it took me this long to see. Get out of my sight.] [Devnote: Furious in his grief, lashing out, being as hurtful as he can to his surviving sibling]

[Lia: Fuck you, Rolan!]

[Lia: Insufferable, arrogant little prick. Argh.]

[Lia: Everything is about him, everything is about his pain. Godsdamnit, Rolan!]

It says a lot to me that if one of his siblings dies, that he has to be convinced out of lashing out at his surviving one. He seems to be like a person who deals with strong emotions by lashing out, likely as a defense mechanism to make himself appear stronger than he feels. This is a common technique used by people with self-esteem issues - to avoid drawing attention to their own vulnerability, they lash out and externalize their feelings with anger to bury the grief. Lia says as much in this ending - to Rolan, everything is about his pain, and he's managing it in the only way he knows how. He knows he's hurting his siblings, he knows it's wrong, but he engages in it anyway, a common trait of people who dislike themselves. If Rolan didn't have his apprenticeship, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the death of his siblings might have caused him to spiral and give up on life altogether.

Interestingly enough, in the end where both Rolan and one of his siblings die, it's implied that the remaining sibling commits suicide. You can read more about it here - it gives some insight into Rolan's motivations, and serves to emphasize exactly how much this apprenticeship means to him. Rolan lives for two things, though it really just is one thing - his siblings, and his apprenticeship, which means more to him because it represents a hopeful future for his siblings. Every clue in the game points to his siblings being everything to him.

But let's move away from this bad ending for one second, and back to where we are. Rolan's been drinking himself silly, yelling at children, and eventually storms out into the SCL by himself. Being an apprentice wizard, few expect him to survive on his own, and true to form, he has to be rescued by the player again.

Though I think this line is currently bugged and unavailable, he actually has lines reacting to the shadows.

[Rolan: My magic is not to be trifled with - leave or die!] [Devnote: Exhausted and scared, but trying not to sound it]

Rolan, emotionally repressed fool he is, is once again attempting to appear big in order to protect himself from what he fears. Whether it's the shadows, or the loss of his siblings, he reacts to stressful situations with a brave front, attempting to push people away so they won't see him at his worst state.

This is one of the common symptoms of an avoidant attachment disorder - an attachment style that causes people to push others away if they get too close, avoiding emotional closeness and being uncomfortable expressing vulnerability to others. I interpret Rolan as having this kind of attachment style, which is often formed from neglect or abuse as a child, resulting in a self-sufficient but emotionally cold person. It can lead to the breakdowns of close relationships, as evidenced by Rolan pushing away his surviving sibling (potentially in order to save himself the grief of having to go through their death again). People with this disorder often cut off people before they can be cut off, in order to save themselves the pain of being abandoned again.

Some recognize the negative impact of their behaviors more than most, and though Rolan never comments on it, it can be inferred that he feels some measure of guilt for the way he behaves. If convinced to lay off of his surviving sibling, he immediately apologizes, recognizing his mistake.

[Cal: Do you wish it was me who died? Instead of Lia?]

[Rolan: Gods no, that's not what I meant. Never, Cal. Never!] [Devnote: Realizes what he's just said. Backtracking, apologizing, sincere]

[Rolan: Shit. I'm sorry.] [Devnote: Disgusted with himself and what he's just said. Looking away, sincere apology]

[Cal: Me too.]

We can see here that Rolan IS capable of self-reflection and guilt - it just takes more than a nudge to get it out of him. He says as much if you manage to rescue both siblings, thanking you and apologizing for his behavior - not an empty apology, or made out of necessity, but a genuine, heartfelt admission of guilt and gratitude. This kind of mature response from him says a lot about his character, and hints at a capacity for further growth in Act 3.

As Cal says, Rolan can be stubborn, but he's never malicious. I see this as an indicator of the immense guilt he holds inside him - though he externalizes his rage towards anyone and everyone, deep down, the person he blames the most is himself.

Which leads me directly into a talk about perfectionism, one of Rolan's defining character traits.

Rolan, at his core, is a perfectionist. The feelings of failure for not being able to save his siblings, the arrogance that belies a certain type of self-hatred, and a willingness to attack others in order to deflect from his own vulnerability - all of these traits tie heavily into perfectionism, which Rolan consistently displays traits of. At the start of the game, he spends every line with the player bragging about how he and Lorroakan are going to become household names, how they will boast of this meeting to others. To an extent, I'm sure he believes it. He's just been invited to what he considers to be a prestigious apprenticeship, despite everyone having considered him a failure. Naturally, he's excited despite the trauma of Elturel and Avernus, and wants to get to Lorroakan immediately in order to fulfill his destiny (he refers to it as his destiny several times throughout the game).

This makes what happens next all the more tragic.

Part 4 - Baldur's Gate, Lorroakan, and ending the Cycle of Abuse

Picture this - you've been rejected, abandoned, considered a lost cause for most of your life, accepted only by the siblings you just barely avoided losing forever. But the journey was worth it. You're finally here, in the city you've dreamed of, studying under who in your opinion is one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world.

Then you get there, and you don't learn a thing. Your teacher asks you nonsensical questions and beats you as a punishment when you're wrong. It's unsurprising that when the player enters Sorcerous Sundries, that Rolan seems a bit more dejected than usual.

Much has been said about the depiction of abuse in media, but as a survivor of domestic violence, I found Rolan's reaction and justification of his abuse very accurate for someone suffering from DV. True to his personality, the very first thing he does is deny that anything's wrong, continuing his trend of burying his emotions in the hope that they'll go away.

[Player: I know the marks of subjugation. Your face - what happened?]

[Rolan: Nothing for you to worry about.] [Devnote: Master Lorroakan hurt him, but he doesn't want to say]

[Narrator: *His voice catches. Something's wrong here.*]

Survivors of DV often feel great shame towards their abuse, often blaming themselves and refusing to speak about it out of fear of appearing vulnerable. True to that, Rolan doesn't say anything about what Lorroakan's doing it, resorting to another common tactic for abuse survivors - implying what's happening without directly stating that the abuse is occurring. This is often out of fear, especially if the victim is still close to the abuser - in this case, Rolan not wanting to jeopardize his apprenticeship, or possibly be abused further for disclosing it to someone else.

[Rolan: Be very sure before you make to visit Lorroakan. He's got a beastly temper.] [Devnote: Sounds a bit disappointed in the player]

[Rolan: Master Lorroakan is... a difficult man.] [Devnote: Gently touches bruised face, distant]

Abuse survivors often hold a great deal of guilt for 'allowing' themselves to be abused, more so if the abuser considers them weak or easy to manipulate. There's often a stigma - "why didn't you just leave? You knew it was bad, yet you stayed, so there must be some blame on your part." This is not an uncommon belief amongst survivors, and through his journal entries, it can be inferred that Rolan holds a similar belief. Rolan's journal, and his VA's fantastic reading of it, can be found here. Rolan is clearly aware that what's being done to him is wrong, but he persists - in my opinion, partially because he believes it's worth the benefits involved, and partially because he feels a responsibility towards his siblings to succeed after 'failing' them so tragically before. Again, perfectionism, guilt, internalized self-hatred: easy traits for a horrible man like Lorroakan to take advantage of.

There are a few possible endings for Rolan here, the first being if you side against the Nightsong with Lorroakan.

The thing about abuse, as Larian so excellently portrays it, is that it is often perpetuated in cycles. A person who's been hurt is more likely to hurt others, whether as a response to their pain, or in an attempt to spread their misery in order to feel less alone. Though not all survivors become perpetrators themselves, many perpetrators are survivors themselves. Rolan is no different - if Nightsong is captured, and Lorroakan is killed in the fight, he will immediately attempt to cage the Nightsong himself and harness her immortality. This could easily be seen as an attempt to get strong enough that no one can ever hurt or take advantage of him again.

When the player next long rests, Rolan will be found dead, having been killed by Aylin - perhaps a mercy, to avoid him from becoming just the same as Lorroakan.

But the player who cares for Rolan wouldn't let this happen to him, right?

Rolan's attitude towards the player gradually changes over time, but nothing shows his growth more than his good ending, where you save Cal and Lia and side with the Nightsong. When you bring Nightsong to the tower, Rolan will be shocked, in disbelief that the Nightsong was a person all along. He turns against Lorroakan on the spot despite the other man's threats to ruin his life (a common tactic employed by abusers to control their victims).

[Lorroakan: Boy! At the ready. Once I've taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.]

[Rolan: No, Master Lorroakan. I would have never assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.]

[Rolan: You lied to get the Nightsong here. Made us all believe she was nothing but a relic. I have seen what true leadership can accomplish - but never under your tutelage.]

[Lorroakan: Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it so that no wizard in the realm will touch you.]

[Rolan: If they're all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.]

It takes an immense amount of courage to stand up to one's abuser, so to see Rolan so bravely stand against the man who hurt him was a positive surprise to me. It also shows just how much the player has changed Rolan for the better - your leadership and selflessness has inspired him, given him the bravery to stand against his abuser. It's a powerful scene, and I admit that watching it brought a tear to my eye, brief as it was. Few people get the chance to take revenge on their abusers, so it was cathartic to see Rolan thunderwaving him onto the balcony before letting Aylin snap his spine.

After the fight, Rolan thanks the player, finally feeling safe enough after his abuser's death to reveal what happened to him. Though it's implied that he feels some shame for being victimized, much of it is likely from the shock of the sudden event, and by the next day he's regained much of his enthusiasm - he still has the ego, but with less arrogance and more acceptance of the player's presence. Rolan's growth, from hating and mistrusting the player to eventually trusting them enough to show his true, kind self to them, is what really made me fall in love with him and his character arc.

Ultimately, Rolan's story isn't just about learning to lay down your pride and accept help from others - it's about abandoning perfectionism and elitism, accepting your own faults, and choosing to grow as a person. For Rolan, the player begins as an annoying, meddlesome force, someone who "moralizes" to him about saving others when he wants no part in doing what's considered "right". By the end of the game, he realizes just how lucky he is to have you in his life - without the player's influence, he could have easily gone down the worst path, the path of narcissism, ego, and disregard for others. But because of a string of coincidences, he was saved from that fate, and was allowed to grow and accept that there's enough room in his heart for more than just the few people that care about him. He learns to lay down the perfectionism, accept that making mistakes is a part of change, and feel his feelings for what they are - whether they're gratitude, fear, or even sadness.

For someone who struggles with avoidant attachment disorder, seeing Rolan's character change throughout the game greatly inspired me to change the way I was approaching my own relationships with people. Avoidant attachment disorder is not talked about very often, both in the medical field and in everyday life, and people suffering from it are often misunderstood or considered to be 'lost causes' - to see Rolan so capable of change inspired me to change myself, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way.

When he takes over Ramazith's Tower, Rolan decides to distribute Lorroakan's knowledge to the world, and tells you about his plans to open a library. This is the most obvious sign that he's changed - the player's willingness to help him despite getting little or nothing in exchange has inspired him, and he becomes a kinder, more open person. He learns to trust again, to love again. It's unclear what happens afterwards, as he's not present in the epilogue, but the heartwarming conclusion to his arc can be seen in the issue of the Baldur's Mouth Gazette after Lorroakan's death -

Despite everything, Rolan makes it to the end, having vanquished the trials in front of him with the help of the player. He gets his tower, his knowledge, and shares it with the realms, finally able to realize that he's worthy and deserving of a happy life.

Thank you to Larian for bringing Rolan's story to life, to Mr. Taylor for his excellent portrayal of this character, and to all the Rolan fans for showing him so much love every single day.

I have met so many amazing and talented friends from the community around this character, and I'll forever be grateful for everyone who showed him the love I feel towards him.

I can be found on twitter at @gimblebock.

#rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #rolan cal lia #lorroakan #bg3 lore #long post

962 notes · View notes

iouinotes · 11 months ago

Text

Heartbeat | Seth Cohen

pairing: Seth Cohen x female!reader

show: o.c California

warnings: kissing, arguments,

summary: Seth is your best friend and he's trying everything to win Summer's heart. You on the other hand would do anything to win his heart and make it beat for you.

author's note: I'm probably the last person on earth who hasn't watched this series. But hey, new potential for ff. By the way, please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks his voice sounds like Dylan O'Briens...

The way I love him is like the waves on the open sea on a beautiful day.

While the sun shines on my skin and my bikini slips slightly, revealing my sun-kissed skin, I try to secretly look at him.

The way his brown curls are wet from the blue sea or how his muscles tense as he pulls his shirt over his head.

I hear a sigh of relief escape from his mouth and have to giggle to keep myself from laughing at his swimming trunks.

Showing one of his cartoon characters, red and dark tones that highlight his pale skin even more.

And when he turns his head and smiles at me, relaxed in a way, as if there were only the two of us in the whole world, he has never looked more beautiful to me.

"Are you daydreaming, sunshine?" Oh, his teasing voice and that look in his eyes- what wouldn't I give to finally have him for myself.

"You'd like to know, Cohen." I grin slightly at him as I answer him. His raised eyebrows and the heat around us make my head spin.

"Okay, let me guess. Are you thinking about the party tonight at my parents' house and what you want to wear?" For a moment he looks out to the sea, reassuring himself that we are safe, until he finally lies down next to me with his arms outstretched above his head.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly answer him.

"Girls don't just think about parties and dresses, idiot." His brown eyes, which are now looking at me invitingly, make the butterflies fly around in my stomach.

"But was I right?" When I try to turn his head away with my hand, he holds mine tightly. But immediately afterwards he strokes my skin tenderly and my thoughts need a moment to sort themselves out.

"Whatever. And just because you started it, I'm going to wear my new blue dress. The one I brought to your room earlier, remember?" The triumphant smile on his face is worth every single word.

For a few seconds, all I can hear is the cries of the seagulls and the sound of the waves. I'm almost starting to doze off when his voice rings out again.

But this time my joy is dampened by his next sentence.

"Today is the day, you know? I'm pretty sure Summer will at least remember my first name by the end of the night." The sinking of my heart feels almost too painful to answer to him.

What else did I expect? Summer has been on his mind for years, every minute of the day since he first saw her.

Seth, on the other hand, has been in my heart since the first time we met. On a rainy day at a skate park, while I was just lost and he was practicing his tricks.

To this day, I can remember the moment when his brown eyes became the most beautiful sight in the world for me.

Nothing has changed ever since.

"Yeah, sure." It's always the same. His never-ending crush on her, the ever-growing hope that is destroyed with each and every one of her withering glances. The dejection in his eyes, as if his happiness would melt away as soon as she was near him.

I can never do anything about it. Because no matter how many times she ignores him or puts him down, her attention is the spark in his heart that never extinguishes.

Because what can I do? Summer is pretty, sassy and popular in our social circle. She makes every boy weak in the knees, worshiping her even though she never shows serious interest.

Seth is blind to it too, he just wants her attention. That she remembers how his name is.

I know his name. His favorite comics. His hatred towards bad movies or his nervous habit of talking endlessly without it making actual sense. I know his sarcasm, his heartbreaks, and his commitment to dreams.

But that doesn't seem to be enough. Because when he looks at her, he sees the sun. I, on the other hand, am a small star that doesn't shine bright enough to be noticed.

So as we fall into silence and I try to suppress my sadness about my unrequited love, he hums softly next to me.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

When we return from our little trip at sea, the sun is almost setting. My gaze falls to the floor and as I listen to his excited voice, I wonder how it would feel to hold his hand.

As we walk up the stairs to his room and I greet his father as I pass, I recognize the look in his eyes as he opens the door for me.

"Oh come on Seth. It can't be healthy for you to think about her for every free second of your day." With a sigh, he throws himself onto his bed with his back showing to me.

"I just wonder why she doesn't see my potential. I would be a great boyfriend."

Yes, for me.

"That's probably because you follow her around like a lost puppy. Compared to the water polo guys, that's a drastic difference."

When I carefully take my dress down from his door that I hung there a few hours ago, his eyes clouded with pity follow me.

A little ritual for us before every big celebration. Getting ready together, like boyfriend and girlfriend. But I immediately push the thought away.

"But everyone likes puppies. At some point she'll look at me and realize that we would make a great couple." Shaking my head, I pat him on the shoulder.

"Everyone has their dreams, Cohen." I meet his gaze as he thoughtfully glances back at me, suddenly meeting my eyes with a newfound interest.

"What are you dreaming about?" The curiosity in his my voice makes me smile.

"Well, it may be a bit cheesy but I wish for… a person." At my words his eyebrows raise and as he sits up straight, I suddenly feel constricted.

"One person for...what? Carrying your bags while you're shopping? I'm already in charge of that." Laughing, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I didn't mean that. Even though that's nice, no argument there. No, I mean a person with whom I can experience my first times. You know, the first date, the first romantic kiss. The first vacation shared together...the first time sleeping together, feeling each others heartbeates. That's what I dream of."

As I finish my last sentence, I look at his face. See his rude stare and his open mouth.

"Wow, I- I didn't know you wanted all this so much." Shrugging my shoulders, I turn around to stroke my blue dress. Trying to hide my heated cheeks.

"It's not going to happen anytime soon anyway, so I guess I'll just have to keep dreaming." The silence that follows is almost painful.

"Nevermind. Also, we only have an hour left to get ready. We'd better hurry." He roles his eyes at my attempt to change the subject.

"You say that every time and you always beg me for another five minutes at the end." As I take off my sandals, he narrowly avoids a pair I throw at him.

"Be quiet, Cohen."

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Kirsten had outdone herself. The decorations, the guest list, the food selection. It was all perfection.

As I look out the window of Seth's room, I repeatedly brush a strand of hair out of my face. My heart beats faster with each passing second of silence and I feel my cheeks turning pink as Seth comes out of the bathroom.

The black suit, a red tie and the neat curls. This view is even more perfect than the one outside.

You'd think I'd be able to hide my attraction to him better by now, but when I audibly catch my breath, he looks at me critically.

"What? Does that scream my-mother-picked-out-my-wardrobe too much?" The crooked grin on his face makes me think dramatically long about my answer.

"Everyone knows you're a mama's boy, so it won't hurt your aura." The hand that comes to his chest as he sucks in air makes me giggle.

"Damn, that was mean. But do you think Summer likes mama's boys?" As soon as he says her name, it’s sounding like a prayer from his lips, I try not to show my disappointment on my face.

"Seth-" I sigh, trying to pull myself together. After all, he's still my best friend and I don't want to hurt his feelings. Even if it means hurting my own.

"What?" Innocence swims in his eyes and again, I wish I could tell him the truth. Instead, I continue to play matchmaker.

"I know best how much you want to impress her. But please trust me when I tell you that it always brings bad luck when one person loves their partner more. There has to be a balance." But my words don't seem to have any effect.

"I will bring balance to the force-" The laughter that escapes from his throat makes me shrug my shoulders a little more relaxed now. He knows he got me, when I can’t seem to stop smiling.

"Nerd. Come on, Skywalker, it's time we both show up at the party." Nodding, he closes the door and as we step out onto the bright terrace with the sun shining on us, I feel peaceful.

Unfortunately, the feeling only lasts two hours. Or more precisely, until Summer, the beautiful, graceful, mean Summer, enters the Cohens' house.

Since that moment, I have had an overexcited, confused, useless boy next to me who can't stop embarrassing himself.

"Do you think I should get her something to drink-" I interrupt his speech for the first time in three hours.

"If you don't stop this right now, I swear I'll never ever surprise you with comic books again." The threat actually makes him close his mouth.

"Why are you in such a bad mood? Do you need a drink?" If he hadn't said it so sarcastically, I would have found the question sweet.

"Seth, I can handle a lot of things in our friendship. Your never-ending sarcasm, your inappropriate jokes or your ability to always say the wrong thing to people. Hell, I can even deal with your love for cartoon characters and your obsession with video games on a daily basis. But talking about Summer every second of the day, twenty-four hours a week? That has reached my limit."

While I try to keep my voice low, the confusion is written all over his handsome face.

"But who else should I share my despair with? You're the only one who's really interested in what I have to say." His words hurt a part of my heart that I cannot describe.

"Exactly. I'm interested in you. Not how pretty Summer looks or what Summer just said, did, or might do in the future." For the first time that evening, he actually seems to understand what I'm talking about.

"So...change of subject?" Relieved, I have to start smiling lightly.

"Yes, please." As we smile at each other at that moment, it feels, for once, like I have his full attention.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

As soon as I open the door to the ladies' room, I wish I could immediately turn around and leave.

In front of the mirror, her face looks at me skeptically.

I try to act like she doesn't bother me, even though there are so many things I'd like to say to her.

"Aren't you that girl who's always with Steven?" I look at her, clearly confused.

Rolling her eyes, she continues. "The nerd with the brown curls, his parents own the house, I heard."

"His name is Seth." She shrugs and applies her lip gloss. Her eyes alternately focus on me and the mirror in front of her.

"Whatever. Are you together?" I feel heat rushing to my face and as I try to answer relaxed, she seems to see right through me.

"What- together? No- we're friends. Just friends." As she turns to me now, she raises her eyebrows almost disinterestedly.

"Really? Then why are you looking at him like you're in love with him?" I turn away from her curious stare and try my best not to let my nervousness show.

"You must be mistaken. He's my best friend." As she stands two steps ahead of me, I don't know what to say.

"That doesn't mean you don't have feelings for him. What about him?" Sighing, I can't try to deny it any longer.

"He doesn't." When I see compassion in her eyes, I start to like her a little.

"Then change that. He's just a boy. Show him what he's missing out on. A little skin showing, a few compliments. He won't realize what's happening until he's begging you to let him kiss you." I look at her, laughing, and for a moment I dare to dream.

"What if he likes someone else? How can I keep up?" With elegant steps she walks past me and opens the door.

"Then you have no choice but to outdo her."

When the door closes, I am left alone with my thoughts.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

As Seth loosens his tie, I am still deep in thought.

After my conversation with Summer, the party was over quicker than expected. Seth and I watched some of the guests, joked about the age difference, had two glasses of expensive wine and had the time of our lives.

All without talking about Summer again.

Now that I'm here in his room and we're getting ready for bed, I'm unsure about my next steps.

I usually sleep on his bed while he puts his mattress on the floor. Since we were little, this has been our approach to spend the night together.

However, tonight I want it to be different.

As I remove the clips from my hair and the makeup from my face, Seth talks incessantly about the latest Legion comic.

It's reassuring to listen to him like this while I think about my next steps.

We usually change separately, there's just a certain intimacy in being so open and showing yourself in your underwear.

But Summer said I have to go for it. Why do I listen to her? I don't know to be honest. I just think I should seize this moment of courage.

So I stand up and breathe in gently, trying to behave as inconspicuously as possible.

I slowly take off my dress and as it falls to the floor, Seth's head turns in confusion towards the noise.

"What have you dropped now- oh" I can literally see his eyes double in amazement and he almost chokes on his words in surprise.

I have to smile when I notice how he can't stop looking at me in my lace underwear.

1:0 for me.

"Are you still breathing, Cohen?" When I see him swallow, I turn my back to him. His reaction is so intoxicating that it fills me with renewed confidence. As my hair brushes my back, I finally hear his chatter.

"What- yeah- I'm just- I'm fine- are you fine? Has it gotten warmer in here? Are you warm? It seems so, otherwise you wouldn't be undressing in here. God, no girl has ever undressed in front of me." Laughing, I pick up one of his shirts with the stupidest designs, but there's still nothing I'd rather wear.

When I put it on, it covers me down to my knees and as soon as I turn around, I meet his gaze.

"We're not nine anymore, Seth. I think our friendship can handle us changing in front of each other." As I walk towards him, his gaze wanders along my legs.

"Er- sure. Of course, no problem. I- what?" My fingers slowly stroke his shirt, carefully grasping his tie as I begin to untie it completely.

"Do you think we can go to sea again tomorrow? This time we are not under any time pressure." I feel him stiffen slightly under my touch as he tries his best to stay cool. Well, as cool as Seth Cohen can be.

"Sure- maybe around one o'clock? Ryan is probably doing something with Marissa anyway. Doing god knows what- wait. I shouldn’t say his holy name out loud, when they are doing certain rather unholy stuff. Why am I saying this? I just mean, that we can both sleep in, I guess. And we can stay awake a little longer tonight." When his tie finally comes completely loose, I gently place my hands on his chest.

I meet his gaze as I raise my head, now so close to him. Our faces are only inches apart. I can see the brown in his eyes and the blush that adorns his face as he stops rambling.

"Yeah? What do you want to do?" Maybe this is the moment he finally realizes that Summer isn't the only one who exists in this world.

Maybe he'll finally notice me now.

"Teach me how to flirt?"

Did the world just stop turning? Or is it just my heartbeat that has stopped? Just with his words, just with the way he looks at me.

As if he no longer wanted to shy away from this tension between us.

"Flirting is an art, Cohen. I don't know if you're capable of pulling it off." His subsequent eye roll and the hand that he places pleadingly around my own make me reconsider my next actions.

At least now I can finally reveal my affection to him.

"Please, I'll go shopping with you. Even to the men's department so you can pick out my clothes. Just teach me." Surprisingly, I pause at his words.

"Even if I put sweatpants on you?" His face twists slightly.

"Yes, even if I have to wear sweatpants." I smile, brushing my hair back. As my eyes focus on his figure, a thousand thoughts race through my head.

"Okay. First step: your posture. I know how much you like to dramatically gesticulate your sentences with your hands, but you should avoid that when you're trying to flirt. You have to stay cool, confident. But still polite, not as if you don't care about the answer." Nodding, he listens attentively to each of my words, trying to understand the intention behind them.

"Like this?" I see him put his hands behind his back and stand there stiffly, his curious look ever present in his eyes.

I laugh and shake my head. "Not quite. Here, I'll show you." My hands move to his own ones, pulling them forward. Slowly I stroke his knuckles, but when I notice his opening mouth at my gentle touch, I let them go.

"Put them in your pockets. Stand up straight, but don't try to force it. Just relax." When he puts his hands in his pockets and stands with his foot slightly at an angle, he looks so carefree for a moment that I almost fall for the trick myself.

"Convincing enough?" Nodding, I try not to let the sight burn too much into my memory.

"Keep that up. Next important step. Your language, the way you speak. If you're going to flirt, it has to be seductive. You have to make me hang on every word that comes out of your mouth." As if I don't already do that.

As his eyebrows draw together, I see the confusion in his pupils and sighing, I speak up again.

"Try talking to me." I wait invitingly for his next move.

"Hey, uh what's going on?" When he doesn’t speak any further, I intervene.

"Okay, maybe I should show you how to do it first. Firstly, you need to try to initiate a conversation." I take a quick breath and try to relax my shoulders to prepare myself.

As I wrap my fingers around his collar and slowly stroke down his shirt, I see him swallow.

"Did you enjoy the party?" I try to maintain eye contact with him while keeping my voice a little quieter and giving more meaning to my words. I can literally see the gears turning in his head.

"I-I did?" When he stops speaking, I put my hand on his chest, circling the pattern of his shirt.

"Don't you want to ask me what I liked the most?" I see how he closes his mouth, trying to find the right words, as if he suddenly doesn't know how to talk to me normally anymore.

"What did you like best?" I smile sweetly, slowly sliding my fingers into his neck and playing with his brown curls.

My heart beats louder than ever, when I notice the expression on his face as I caress his hair softly.

"You."

It is this one moment when the world makes sense. When the eternal waiting, the torment of the last few years and the stupid boy in front of me finally makes sense.

Because his eyes wander to my lips and I feel his breath across my face as our bodies are drawn to each other like magic.

His lips almost brush mine, we are so close together that my mind is unable to think of anything other than his touch.

What it would be like to kiss him.

"Is this still part of the lesson?" His breathless voice makes me smile.

"Well, do you want it to end?" I have to laugh at his lips as he quickly shakes his head.

"What-what should I do?" I stand slightly on my tiptoes so I can whisper in his ear.

"What every princess wants from her fairytale prince. Kiss me."

He leans slowly into my touch. With every breath he takes, I can feel his arms sliding around my waist as his curls brush my forehead. He licks his lips uncertainly and when I look into his eyes, full of affection and the desire to kiss me, I fall in love with him even more.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." Confusion adorns his features and I try not to let my strong heartbeat distract me too much when I finally tell him the truth.

"Waiting for what? Me?" Laughing, I close my eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of his closeness.

"It's always been you for me, Seth. When I said, "You're unbearable"? In my head, I wanted to spend every second I'm in this world with you. Or when I always roll my eyes when you stumble over your words, as if you're afraid it would bore me too much and I would stop listening to you. Because I would never do that. God, I practically hang on every word that comes out of your mouth."

As astonishment takes over his gaze, I feel a blush creep over my skin. What do I have to lose now?

When he answers, a loving smile adorns his face, coupled with a brief shake of the head.

"So I was unconsciously flirting with you the whole time? You know, step two?"

"You don't have to flirt with me for me to fall for you, Cohen. I fell already, hard."

His eyebrows rise, his nervousness changes almost abruptly to a smug expression.

"Is that so? Even though I talk about Captain Oats for two hours, when I was telling you his story from my childhood?"

"Why do you think I'm still here? No one would listen to that, not even me, if I hadn't been thinking about how good you looked in your sweater."

"Very shameless of you, Captain Oats would be disappointed by your little interest in his life."

"And would Seth Cohen be disappointed if I'm too interested in his life to pay attention to anything else?" Grinning, he pulls me closer to him.

"I'm pretty sure he'd be flattered." His lips hover over mine as his words cast a spell over my mind.

"Then I guess I should do that more often." Slowly, I push him back and let him fall onto his bed while his eyes roam over my body.

"Oh, definitely. You can do anything you want." Smiling sweetly, I move closer to him until I sit down on his lap. His hands find their own way to my thighs, stroking my bare skin.

“I can hear your heartbeat, Cohen. Are you nervous?“ I smile as I tease him, roaming my fingernails over his chest.

“I don’t do nervous. But indeed sunshine, my heartbeat is that noticeable, because you‘re making it beat faster. You‘re making my time on earth feel faster and I would‘t want it any other way.“ Smiling in the kiss, I stretch my hands around his neck.

Being with Seth Cohen isn't always easy, but I guess love isn't either.

#oc California #oc #x reader #love #fanfic #seth cohen #summer #in love #love confessions #ocean #hurt/comfort

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slytherin-pen · 2 months ago

Text

Heartbreak Anniversary

pairing: Bodhi Durran x Reader

word count 1.8k

warnings: canon typical violence, injury, cursing

tags: no use of y/n, gn!reader, marked one!reader, set during FW, angst then hurt/comfort, hea

summary: It’s you and Bodhi’s anniversary but unfortunately the upcoming rebellion takes precedent over such trivial things. You’re heartbroken and furious…until Bodhi comes back injured.

a/n: written for day 1 of Bodhi Week @empyreanevents

Bodhi Masterlist

You’d been counting down the days. Not because you needed the reminder—it had practically been carved into your heart—but because you were so excited. One year. One full year of surviving war and everything else life throws at the two of you side by side.

Today was your anniversary, and you had plans to make today extra special. Starting with breakfast in bed, courtesy of Violet using her breakfast duties to sneak you two trays of food before other cadets rummaged through it all.

Next would be a picnic for lunch, accompanied by your dragons. Then finishing the evening with a candlelit dinner on the roof where’d you give him the gift you bought. It wasn’t perfect. Ideally, the two of you would be able to take the day off and spend the whole day together, but when attending a war college you had to take what you could get.

You were adjusting the stray hairs that fell out of your braid when there was a light knock on your door, and it opened to reveal Bodhi. You smiled at him through your reflection in the mirror, but it quickly fell when you noticed his somber expression.

You turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go,” he said, his face tight with urgency.

You felt your heart sink. “But it’s our anniversary.”

“I know, baby,” he said, approaching you and grabbing your hands. “But Xaden needs me. Garrick can’t sneak away today and Xaden needs backup when he meets with the fliers.”

“What about Imogen? Or Heaton, or Emery? Anyone but you.”

Bodhi grimaced. “They went last night and the night before. They need a break, and it would be suspicious if the same three riders—marked ones—are gone at the same time two days in a row.”

“But, Bodhi.” You want to throttle yourself for the whiny tone of your voice, but you can’t help it. You’re desperate. You’re watching all of your plans burn to ash in front of your eyes. “Why can’t it be rescheduled? It’s our anniversary. We somehow survived one whole year, not just our relationship but us.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he sighed. “You know how impatient fliers can be. We can’t wait. I’ll try to come home as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, and let him give you a quick kiss before he’s out the door chasing after his cousin.

You sat on your bed staring at the cracks in the paint, the emptiness of the room feeling like a wide open chasm now that he’s gone.

The sadness slowly turned to rage. With each passing hour, every moment that your eyes darted to the door only to find it empty, it built.

You snapped at a cadet who bumped into you as you walked into the dining hall, causing Violet to side-eye you from her spot next to you. Later, when another cadet in Battle Brief made a joke about you missing your boyfriend, Ridoc of all people shot him a deadly look and slashed his hand across his neck. A silent warning. Shut up. Not today.

You left the lecture hall, your chair nearly falling over as you shot out of it, boots echoing down the corridor. It was better this way. Your friends didn’t deserve your second-hand anger. You’d do what was expected of you and keep interactions to a minimum, and hopefully, Bodhi would be back before you lashed out at someone else.

The rest of the day was a blur of classes and sparring matches. Every little grievance acted as kindling to your fury. During a challenge, your opponent had tapped out, but in your adrenaline-induced haze, he looked a little like Xaden. You didn’t get off of him. Instead, you pushed down on him harder, fighting the urge to bash his skull into the mat.

It wasn’t until Garrick walked onto the mat and started pulling you up by your armpits that you finally let the cadet go.

You stormed out of the gym, Garrick on your heels.

He called your name. “Would you—just wait up!”

“What?” you snapped, turning around to face him. You were breathing heavily, not just from exertion but from the rage in your chest, consuming your every thought and breath.

“You’re upset, I get it. But you can’t do shit like that. You know better than to draw attention to yourself, especially when two of our own are trying to get away with something that’s considered treason,” he said, pointedly looking at the rebellion relic peeking out from under your long sleeve.

He was right. Damn it, you knew he was right. But the ugly beast inside you did not care. It wanted to curse him out, curse this whole rebellion, and everything else that takes Bodhi away from you.

You swallowed it down as best you could. “I’m sorry, Gare. It won’t happen again,” you said, your voice coming out a little harsher than intended, but Garrick took it in stride, dipping his chin in acceptance before turning around and walking back toward the gym.

By the time you reached your room that night, you were vibrating with the need to break something. You scrubbed your face, ripped off your jacket, and pulled on your softest nightgown. You were debating whether or not to scream into your pillow when the knock came—hard and frantic.

You wrenched the door open to find a breathless Garrick. “Come with me. Now.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Is it—?” you whispered, heart already sprinting ahead.

“Infirmary. It’s bad.”

You threw on a robe and your slippers before bolting out the door behind Garrick.

You didn’t feel your feet hit the ground as you ran.

Down stairwells, around corridors, past startled cadets and confused officers.

Your eyes found him as soon as you breached the doorway. He was stretched across a cot, unmoving, pale, and though you couldn’t see the color of the blood seeping out him, his leathers were shining with it.

An anguished cry escaped your throat.

You surged forward.

“No—wait!” Garrick caught you around the waist just in time. “You’ll be in the way—let the healers work—let them save him!”

You’d barely noticed them hovering and flitting around Bodhi. You still fought Garrick. Kicked and clawed and thrashed, desperate to be close to your boyfriend. But the healers were hunched over his torso, their hands moving rapidly with gauze to staunch the bleeding, sweat pouring down their faces.

Your blood thundered in your ears, your body trembling with helplessness. And then your gaze landed on him.

Xaden.

Standing silent in the corner, arms crossed, jaw like stone. No blood on him. Not a scratch.

You snapped.

You crossed the room in a blur, grabbing fistfuls of his flight leathers and shoving him against the stone wall so hard his head thunked against it.

“What the fuck happened!” you screamed, teeth bared. “You dragged him out on our anniversary and now he’s dying—what the hell did you do?!”

Xaden didn’t flinch. He didn’t shove you off, though you both know he could if he wanted to. He didn’t defend himself verbally either. He let you shove him again. Let his head smack the wall twice more, as if he welcomed the pain. His face was cold, unreadable, but his silence only fueled your rage.

“I hope it was fucking worth it,” you hissed. “I knew this would happen. He fucking worships you while you treat him like some spare dagger in your belt, you piece of—”

You barely hear your name being croaked from across the room, but your ears are attuned to the sound of his voice, no matter how weak it may be.

You spun around so fast your neck cracked.

“Bodhi?” you gasped.

The healers had moved aside, packing up their supplies. He was blessedly stitched up and bandaged now. He was so pale, with cracked lips and bloodshot eyes that you could tell were taking tremendous effort to keep open.

“Hi,” he rasped, “mo ghràdh.”

You stumbled toward him and fell to your knees beside the cot, grabbing his hand with both of yours.

“I hate you,” you whispered, tears spilling freely now. “I hate you and Xaden and every god who let this happen.”

He smiled. The bastard smiled. “You’re so dramatic,” he said, his voice gravely with dryness.

You cursed him in rapid Tyrrish, words that made the nearest healer blink in shock. Then you squeezed his hand hard enough to make him wince before you accepted the cup of water from Garrick and brought it to Bodhi’s lips.

“Don’t stress yourself out, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” you said fiercely. “But when you are, you better run for the fucking hills because I’m kicking your ass for scaring me like this.”

“Looking forward to it,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You stayed there for what felt like hours, your head resting on the edge of the cot, your hand tangled in his. The room slowly emptied around you until it was just the two of you in the quiet.

“Come here,” he said softly.

You blinked. “Bodhi, no—”

“Please,” he whispered. “Just… please.”

With a sigh of surrender, you climbed up beside him, moving slowly. He hissed at the movement but pulled you closer, his arm weakly slung around your waist.

You both exhaled at the same time, your bodies finally in sync again.

“What happened?” you murmured.

He grunted. “Met with some fliers. Wasn’t expecting trouble. They brought friends. Not the friendly kind.”

You stiffened. “Fucking hell,” you growled. “How dare they? I get things are stressful for them but have they never heard the phrase ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’? I swear to the gods, I’m going on the next run and I’ll teach them a lesson about hurting my boyfriend.”

“Hey,” he said, brushing a finger along your cheek.

You weren’t done. “I mean seriously, I’ll ask Dìon to char them to dust or—”

“Love.”

You blinked.

“Let’s save the revenge plot for tomorrow,” he said gently. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be, for many reasons. But right now, I just want to lay here with you while the pain tonics kick in.”

You bit your lip, your fury dimming.

“…Fine,” you muttered. “But tomorrow I want names.”

He chuckled—then winced. “Deal. I’ll even have Garrick get you a lineup of cadets to pummel to quench your thirst for blood.”

You sighed dreamily, resting your head carefully against his chest. “You know me so well.”

“Of course I do. You’re the love of my life.”

“Don’t think sweet talking and bribing me is going to help you get away with this. You still have a reckoning coming once you heal,” you admonished.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he teased.

He kissed your temple, slow and tired, and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

You could feel the beat of his heart beneath your cheek—uneven, slow, but there. And that was enough. For now.

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #rebecca yarros #fourth wing x reader #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhiweek2025 #fourth wing fic

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 months ago

Text

Crimson Ties ~ 19

CRIMSON TIES MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,770ish

Summary: Everyone continues to try to figure out how to navigate life after the attacks.

Warning(s): talk of rape, talk of abuse, talk of death, funeral, guilt

Notes: Another heartbreaking chapter with a slight glimmer of hope at the end.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Obadiah was pacing his office. His men had informed him that the raid at the older Stark mansion was a success. That Howard and Maria were both dead. Now, Obadiah was just waiting to hear from Brock. Obadiah had ordered Brock not to get in contact until he had you at the safe house, just in case. But that should have been hours ago.

“Boss, there’s movement out front,” a man warned.

Obadiah marched towards the front of his house and whipped open the door. His jaw clenched as his eyes fell to the bloodied and broken body of his right hand man. Obadiah kicked Brock’s body to see if he was still alive. In doing so, a small note was revealed. The man picked it up, careful not to get any blood on him. The note was handwritten with merely two words on it.

You’re next.

Obadiah shouted in anger, tossing the card away. He kicked Brock’s body off the front step and heading back inside.

“I need that body burned now!” Obadiah ordered. “And my front step cleaned up.”

~~~

Tony stared at the blood stained floor where Clint had died. The vase was still shattered across the floor, a reminder that the simple move had saved you from being taken away for good. He made a mental note to get the floors replaced, knowing that the blood would never come out of these wood floors. Tony’s eyes then moved up to the door of your studio. Underneath the door, the lights were still on and Tony could hear your soft music still playing. He hadn’t even stepped foot in there and it was already breaking his heart to know what had happened to you in there. That he wasn’t able to keep you safe like he promised. That he had failed you.

Taking a deep breath, Tony let his trembling hand grasp the doorknob and he slipped into the room. Though the door shut softly behind him, he felt like the door slammed, echoing through the room. His eyes scanned the entirety of the area, skimming over your torn clothes on the floor and eventually falling on the table that had clearly been moved. Tony took a timid step forward as he took in the sight of the broken projects you had been hard at work on. As he slowly moved closer, he couldn’t help but let the tears fall. There was blood on the table. There was no doubt that it was yours.

How the hell did Tony let this happen? There had already been so much you’ve had to endure at the hands of Brock and Obadiah. Even at the hands of Tony himself. This was certainly the worst of it.

Through his blurry vision, two pieces of broken pottery caught Tony’s eye. He reached out and carefully grabbed each of them. Just when Tony thought his heart couldn’t shatter anymore, Tony read the neatly painted words on the broken pieces. One was labeled to him and the other was labeled for his mother. You were working on gifts for them when Brock had broken into your studio and destroyed any sense of peace that you had found.

Tony held the pieces tightly to his chest as his knees gave out beneath him. His head bowed as the tears and cries flowed from him freely.

~~~

Rhodey, Happy, Bucky, and Steve stood in the hallway, near the room you were in. They were trying to figure out the next steps.

“Y/N still doesn’t know about Howard, Maria, and Clint,” Steve breathed out.

“We can’t tell her now,” Rhodey said. “She’s not doing well as it is.”

“She has they right to know. Clint died protecting her and Maria was the closest thing she had to a mother.”

“And what will happened when we crush her with all of it at once? She’s already breaking into a million pieces that we can’t even see.”

“She won’t take it well if we wait either,” Bucky admitted. “But at least she’ll still be breathing.”

“Maybe Tony should be the one to do it,” Happy suggested.

“Where is Tony?” Steve wondered.

The men looked around. Rhodey noticed your studio opened just a crack and silently pointed over to it. He mouthed to the others that he’d go and headed over. Rhodey was careful as he pushed the door open, revealing Tony crying on the floor. He moved over to his friend quickly and knelt beside him.

“I failed her,” Tony cried. “I failed them…”

“No, Tony, no you didn’t,” Rhodey said. “No one saw this coming.”

“I should have. I should have seen that they were planning something. That Pepper was in on it!”

Rhodey glanced at Tony’s clenched hands, seeing blood seeping from between his fingers. Gently, Rhodey took Tony’s hands and pulled them from his chest. Rhodey guided them open, revealing the broken pieces of pottery. His heart cracked at the words on the broken pieces.

“How do I fix this Rhodey?” Tony asked, eyes pleading for some answers. “How do I be there for her when I only ever make things worse?”

Rhodey sighed, trying to pull his thoughts together to answer his devastated friend. “I can’t speak for Y/N and what she will need. But all you can do is let her know you’re there. It doesn’t have to be through words, but through actions. Just let her know that you are still her friend. That you are still there for whenever she is ready.”

Tony nodded, opting to remain silent as he thought of ways he could let you know that he was there. Rhodey stayed by Tony’s side, waiting for his friend to make the first move. He would stay there as long as he needed.

~~~

Inside the room, you were more conscious now. But everything felt heavier. Your limbs. The ability to breathe. Everything took more effort than it did before. But something else was wrong. You could feel it in the air and in the looks of the women who floated around you. There was a secret everyone was keeping from you.

“What else happened?” You finally rasped.

Yelena and Natasha shared a look, a silent conversation happening between them. As that happened, you realized that someone was missing. Someone you who believed would fight to be at your side in a moment like this.

“Where’s Maria?” You asked.

The room suddenly grew impossibly heavier. The women still remained quiet. Natasha shook her head and slipped out of the room, with Peggy following her. You looked over at Yelena, confused. She wouldn’t meet your eye.

“Y/N…” She breathed out. “Just… I’ll be back in a minute.” Yelena left the room and leaned against the door as she closed it. Tears pricked her eyes. “We have to tell her.”

“She’s not ready,” Peggy admitted.

“It doesn’t matter. She deserves to know the truth.”

Tony walked over, a few flowers from the garden outside in his hand. “How is she?” He asked quietly.

“She’s asking about Maria,” Natasha sighed.

Tony closed his eyes. He hated that you couldn’t just be left to focus on the trauma that had happened to you. Of course you would question as to why Maria wasn’t there.

“We were just discussing who or when to tell her,” Peggy said. “We don’t know how she’ll react to the information. Maria, Clint, and Howard are dead and she got raped. That’s… It’s a lot for one person to process.”

None of them missed the door locking behind Yelena. They quickly turned and Yelena tried to get in. Only to fail.

You knew that they were discussing something out there, something they were purposely keeping from you. When shaky legs, you made your way over to the door, tearing up at how sore you were. You gently leaned against the door and pressed your ear close. You listened to them talk and the moment they said who was dead, your heart shattered. You locked the door and stumbled back to the bed, collapsing beside it.

“Y/N,” Yelena called through the door. “Don’t do this. Let us in.”

You began to frantically sob. Your insides felt like they were being torn to shreds at the thought of Clint, Maria, and Howard dead.

“Y/N, please,” Yelena tried again.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move besides what the sobs were forcing from you.

“Y/N, honey…” Tony’s voice quietly spoke up from the other side of the door. “You’ve got to let someone in. It can be anyone. But someone needs to be with you.” Your sobs were breaking him apart. “Please, honey.”

“If we have to break down the door, we will,” Natasha added.

“No. We will not.” He turned to the red head. “This has to be her choice. We will not force anything. If she wants to be alone, we stay out here and make sure she’s okay from here. Do you understand?”

Natasha nodded as she took in the fury in which Tony’s eyes held. “Yes, Boss.”

Tony focused back on the door separating you from everyone else. He sighed, his forehead softly hitting the door as he leaned against it. “We’re just out here, honey,” he told you, his tone back to calm and concerned. “I… I brought you flowers. They’re just from the garden. I didn’t know what you’d like. I’ll leave them in a vase next to the door for you, okay?” You didn’t respond besides your uncontrollable sobs. “We’ll be ready when you’re ready.”

Tony then backed away from the door. He grabbed a vase you had made, filled it with water and placed it on a table next to the door. He glanced back at the door for a brief moment before he headed to his office and shut himself in it.

~~~

Hours passed and you had yet to open the door. Your sobs hand died down and you grew quiet, making everyone on edge. Tony remained in his office, trying to figure out where Pepper disappeared and how to get his revenge on Obadiah. The other men were in and out, dealing with clean up of the two houses and funeral arrangements. But they could tell Tony wasn’t fully focused on his tasks. Tony’s mind kept drifting to you, especially the longer you remained locked behind that door, keeping yourself secluded from everyone.

Eventually, Tony left his office and grabbed a few snacks from the kitchen that he had seen in your studio occasionally. He grabbed two water bottles and headed back to the door that the women would walk away from.

“Still nothing?” He wondered.

Peggy shook her head. “Not a sound,” she answered. “I’m getting concerned.”

He nodded and came up to the door, gently knocking. “It’s me, honey.” The term of endearment just couldn’t stop slipping from his lips. “I brought you some water and some snacks. I’ll just leave them by the door for you, okay?”

Again, no response. Tony set the items down and walked off, hunched over like he was physically weighed down by the events of the last 24 hours. The women watched, hearts breaking more and more.

“He’s trying,” Natasha whispered. “We have to give him that.”

The door unlocked a few seconds later. The women’s head whipped in the direction of the sound. There you were, leaning heavily on the door as you stood there.

“Please tell me that I didn’t hear you correctly,” your lip trembled as you begged. “Please tell me they aren’t dead.”

“I wish we could, Y/N,” Peggy spoke up, taking the bullet.

“H—How?”

“How about we sit down?” Natasha suggested. “Then we can talk about it.”

You nodded, letting the women into the room. Yelena guided you over to the couch and sat down next to you, enough room between you. Peggy and Natasha pulled up chairs.

Peggy sighed. “Your father coordinated a double attack,” she began explaining. “One here and one at the other Stark residence. We had no idea about it.”

“They caused a diversion, which is why no one was with Maria and Howard,” continued Natasha. “They weren’t prepared… None of us were… When we finally realized, it was too late… I found them… They… I’m sorry.”

You reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She gave your hand a squeeze in return.

“Howard had tried to protect Maria,” Peggy explained. “They were still in their bedroom.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “And… And Clint?” You whispered.

“He was outside your studio when Brock broke in,” it was Yelena’s turn to explain. “Brock… Brock shot him, multiple times, before Brock headed into your studio. But Clint wasn’t dead yet… He was the reason Tony was able to get to you before Brock took you away. Clint knocked down the table and vase outside your studio. Tony heard it and came has fast as he could. But Brock had heard the noise too and shot Clint in the head when he was trying to leave with you.”

“I don’t remember that…”

“And you don’t need to,” Peggy said.

“He died saving my life… Brock could have…” You didn’t finish your thought, but everyone knew what you meant.

“There’s one more thing,” said Natasha. “Brock, he’s dead. We made sure of it. He will never touch you again.”

That information is what pushed you over the edge. Yelena pulled you into her arms as you break into more tears. But this time the tears weren’t due to fear or sadness, they were tears of relief.

~~~

Tony kept checking in on you and leaving items at your door for the next two days. The women brought the items to you as they came in and out. They were the only ones you were comfortable in seeing right now and everyone respected it. Even if it was hard on Tony.

It was the day of the funeral. Tony had made sure that it would come quickly. Yelena had made sure a black dress that you had approved was brought to you. She had already warned you that you would have to ride to the cemetery with Tony for appearances. You promised her that you would be fine, but you could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Tony was already in the car when you slid in. He was practically pressing himself against his door, trying to give you all the space he could in the back seat of the car. Happy drove, glancing back as the quiet tension gradually increased on the way to the funeral. You and Tony were both trying to focus on the scenes outside of your windows, but occasionally kept looking over at the other. Neither of you noticed the other’s fleeting glances. Just before the cemetery, Tony spoke up.

“I’m sorry we have to do this,” he said quietly.

You couldn’t help but fully look at him now. His heavily tinted sunglasses where covering his eyes. But you could tell that they were red and dark circles surrounded them.

“No, I’m sorry,” you told him. “Your parents died and I haven’t been there for you.”

Tony was taken back. You were feeling guilty, when you had no need to. “No, no, honey. You’ve needed your own time and space. You lost them too and… and so much more. You deserve all the space you need.”

You nodded, letting out a soft, “thank you.”

Happy parked the car and opened the door for Tony to get out. Tony rushed around and opened your door. His hands flexed at his sides as he tried not to help you out. You followed him to your designated seats near the two caskets. The funeral was a blur. You were grateful that no one made you speak. Tony said a few words, but they hardly registered with you. You were too busy staring at the caskets, thinking about Howard and Maria and all that they had done for you.

Eventually, you had to stand next to Tony as they lowered the caskets down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could tell that Tony was trying to hold it together. His hands were clenched into fists at his side. Taking a deep breath, you slowly moved your hand over to Tony’s and gently slid your fingers between his. Tony tried not to panic at your touch, but let out a silent gasp. You could see the moment he relaxed, letting his hand mold around yours. The two of you stood quietly, hand in hand, until the caskets were completely covered in dirt.

next chapter >

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jasmines-library · 1 year ago

Note

Hello ml !! How’ve you been? <3

I was wondering if you’d be up for writing smth with the batfamily, and maybe their reaction to reader coming back home from a sleepover at their partners house, and telling them that they got cheated on?

Have a great day/evening/night <33 🫶

Heartbreak Doesn't Feel So Good.

Hello Hello! Thanks for requesting again, I always love to see you in my inbox. I hope you have been well. Sorry it's a little on the shorter side but I wanted to get this out for you today.

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

The first thing Jason noticed when you stepped through the door was that there were tears running down your face. He had always been observant, but he knew you well. He could tell that your mascara ran beneath your eyes from the way your shoulders were hunched to match your slow movements, gaze firm on the ground. And if he listened carefully enough, he could hear the sniffling that you failed to conceal as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your upset.

“What’s that matter?” He was up in a second, moving toward your side. His face and voice were laced with concern.

You had stayed the night round your partner's house and weren’t supposed to be back for at least a few hours. Jason had seen the way you left, grinning as you carried your bags to the car. But now you stood crestfallen, dropping your bag on the floor in defeat. Something had clearly gone wrong and Jason was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“What happened?” He frowned, helping you remove your jacket.

“I-” Your lip trembled as your eyes filled with tears again. Jason pulled you to his chest and let you weep.

After a tender moment, he guided you over gently to the couch where he sat you down and took your hand in his, repeating his question. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him.

“They…They cheated on me.” your voice broke as you stuttered out what happened.

Jason felt his fingers clenching to fists.

“What?!” The voice hadn’t come from Jason. It had come from Tim who was passing by the room on his way back from the cave.

“I don’t know what happened…” You sobbed. “I thought we were fine. And then they left for a moment… their phone kept going off. So I checked it. I didn’t want to impose…but I thought it might have been something important. And then I saw her name. And the messages.”

“I swear to god-” Jason nearly growled.

“And when they came back into the room I confronted them. And they didn’t even try to deny it!” More tears streamed from your face, falling hot like acid. Like a lingering reminder. A cruel joke. “They just told me that ‘they didn’t love me anymore’. That they had ‘found someone better’. What kind of an answer is that?!-”

Tim tried to soothe you by placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Shh. It’s gonna be okay kid.”

“But…I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Dick had arrived with young Damian in tow. The pair had been sparring and had decided to check up on Tim following his absence, but were starstruck to find you bawling on the couch.

“What’s wrong little bat?” Damian asked. His voice was surprisingly gentle and held much more concern than you thought was ever possible for the stubborn boy.

All four eyes watched you, anticipating you to speak. But you just couldn't, your mind was too busy and you didn’t dare utter the words that you were trying so hard to believe weren’t true. You knew that the moment you said them again all of your walls would come tumbling down, torn from whatever remaining supports were keeping them upright.

“They cheated on her.” Jason spat.

“What an asshole.” Damian jeered. He had seen how happy the pair of you were and the thought of someone switching up that quickly made him feel queasy.

“Oh y/n/n.” Dick sighed “I’m so sorry. That’s unfair.”

You shrugged.

“Didn’t even give her a reason.” Jason continued. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears, despite how he tried not to lose his temper for your sake. But the more you revealed the harder he was finding it. “Just left her at a snap of their fingers.”

“It’s their loss. They didn’t deserve someone like you in the first place.” Dick told you.

“Exactly.” Damian nodded in agreement. “You’re totally way out of their league.”

“You think so?” You sniffled.

“100%. You’re worth so much more than anything in this world and that asshole didn’t deserve any of you.”

A smile upturned at the corner of your lips. Tim reached out and wiped the tears away from your eyes.

“Hey. No more of that crying okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, though you still couldn’t shake the sadness from your bones.

“Wanna watch shitty movies and eat ice cream?” Dick asked, sensing this.

“Please?”

And the four of them moved quickly, gathering pillows which they chucked onto the couch to create a pillow fort of sorts. Damian ran into the kitchen to grab ice cream, though he was uncertain of what flavour so he grabbed two alongside a handful of spoons and a plate of brownies that Alfred had just finished making. Then they made themselves comfortable on the couch, surrounding you in their embrace before letting you decide on a film to watch.

And so the five of you sat there for hours, watching chick flicks and trying to devour tubs of ice cream before it melted completely. As much as they would never admit it, Damian and Tim were mouthing along to the lines of the cheesy films, or singing along to the songs. One of their guilty pleasures. Jason seemed engrossed in the movies too, surprisingly. Though you weren’t sure if he was pretending to be interested and was actually plotting the inconspicuous murder of your partner as revenge. The thought made you chuckle. The five of you stayed bundled up on the couch until slowly, one by one you began to drift off and your heartbreak had been forgotten for a few hours at least.

When Bruce arrived back from his late night patrol and found you all together, his heart warmed. They were always going to take good care of you.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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thepeaklegendoffirstgen · 2 months ago

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APPRECIATION POST FOR GEN 0 QUEENS👑🌸

Somi Park

Besides her insane face card, let's talk about what a great character she is.

I know people hate her because she didn't love Gun or wasn't a "loyal wife" (who even said Shingen wifed her up? Did we read the story properly?).

But that's exactly what makes her so refreshing and intriguing — her goals and ambitions. And God forbid a woman actually has those!

I agree, even I didn't like the way she treated Gun sometimes, but that's where the story breaks away from the usual conventions. She's not your typical mother; there's so much more to her than meets the eye.

Sure, a lot of her interactions with Gun were to further her own agenda, but in the end, when she sacrificed herself for her son, that was absolutely heartbreaking. I'm quite sure she never loved Shingen — it’s obvious. But maybe, if he had looked her way even once, a lot of the tragedy could have been avoided. Maybe they could have even become a true couple — who knows?

Somi is the bare minimum of what a well-written female character should be, and I genuinely appreciate that.I mean, I don't expect much from PTJ anyway, so honestly, thanks for this.

Minseon Kang

We haven't explored her character much yet, and I really hope that when the Gen 0 arc or Gapryong’s past is revealed, we get to know more about her.

That being said, I truly love this unbothered, nonchalant queen. She seems so classy and graceful — there’s an aura about her that speaks of something deeper, something I can’t quite put into words.

For me, she represents strength.

Strength to deal with a scumbag of a husband.

Strength to watch your own child turn into a gangster.

Strength to face the consequences brought on by that pathetic excuse of a husband.

And strength in never bending in the face of adversity.

I can't help but feel sad imagining how she must have felt when Gapshitryong used to wh*re around, hiding behind his ridiculous excuses.

I genuinely pray that she gets to experience some peace and happiness, and that she's living a better life now — she deserves that much, at least.

Reporter Kim

All the nasty people leave 🖕🪓

Okay, now let's talk about her.I know it sounds clichéd, but this woman has so much potential for development. Right off the bat, she grew on me — a reporter in hiding? That’s such an interesting and plausible setup.

She has connections to Gen 0, and I bet she witnessed the chaos firsthand back then.I also feel like she knows exactly what happened when Gap died and everything that led up to it.

Considering all of that, it makes sense why her life would be at risk, and why she would go into hiding , but for how long?

Pls, I need her to make a comeback!

And honestly, I want her to team up with a detective — someone like Jace would be perfect. Imagine the two of them uncovering the truth about what actually happened that day!

A mentor-student dynamic between them would be so cool.😼

And about Tom... please keep your dirty eyes away from this queen. I know it's likely she'll end up reciprocating his feelings because he "tried so hard" and was "so persistent" — but ugh, I hate that trope. She deserves someone way better.

End of my yapping I don't know what I spewed 🥴 given that PTJ doesn't give a damn about them but I'm delulu✨️🌸

#lookism #Somi park #Reporter kim #Minseon kang

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emryslore · 4 months ago

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if you ever get into merthur i'd love a rec, i love your other recs sm <3

Hi Anon!

I do love merthur myself so I wanted to share my favourites I've read recently! Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

A Language With No Words (E) 55k by neptunesyellowsands

Its a really incredible long fic with a sequel

A little smile had touched Arthur’s lips, drawing up the corners of his mouth. He’d looked keen and kind, and like he’d just solved one of the greatest mysteries of all time. And part of Merlin had wanted to point out the idiocy of having missed this rather obvious detail until now, but that part was drowned out entirely by the feel of Arthur’s eyes locked onto his, of being on the receiving end of his smile. Not the cocky ones or the condescending ones, but this one, this one right here, small and soft and warm. The sun was streaming in through the window, and, for a moment, Arthur’s hair and his skin and all of the world Merlin could see was golden, and that was it. That was all it had taken. Merlin was absolutely, unequivocally not his own from then on. Merlin arrives at Camlann just in time. When the truth comes out, will Arthur accept him? Will they be able to face the feelings each of them has for the other? Will they ultimately defeat Morgana - together? This is the story as it might have ended if things had been just a little bit different.

tempest in a teacup (get unique) (G) 1.6k by trickytricko

A retelling of s1 ep10 with outside pov

Hunith watched the two young men for a moment, her expression softening as she took in the easy camaraderie between them. It was clear that Merlin had found more than just a prince to serve in Arthur. He had found a friend, a companion; something that she knew was incredibly rare for someone in his position. *** a partial retelling of ep.10 season 1 featuring Hunith's "he likes you!!" bc we love how she ships it.

I choose you and me religiously (E) 111k by koffeinkaos

Not completed but oh its so good it has everything a long term merthur fan would want

It sniffed the air. "Emrys? Magic itself serving a Pendragon, Uther's son, a corrupted Camelot." The raven haired man tensed at those words a jolt of fear rushing through his body. But he couldn't get distracted now. He pressed the panic down so hard, he felt like he might vomit. He was turned to the monster, all the knights were behind him, so he couldn't see the shocked expressions on his friends faces when the words sank in. Lancelot tried to get closer to Arthur in case he wouldn't take the revelation well, but one of the wolves bared his teeth and snapped at him warningly. So far Arthur had only stilled. His hands had fallen uselessly to his sides, eyes fixed on the back of Merlin's head. "I don't serve the king and I don't serve Camelot. I only serve Arthur. I am loyal only to him. If you touch him, you'll die." Another vicious snarl left the wolf's throat. "We'll see." ---- Or Merlin has to reveal his magic to save his friends and Arthur is head over heels for him. Gay fluff with plot and a bit of smut in between (warnings in the chapters for that) Have fun reading

in this and every life (T) 26k by winterbucky (winterbuckyy)

And ofc last but not least here we have some good old OP merlin, yearning and dimensional travel

Over 10 years after their memories return, Arthur, Gwen, and the Knights have to make peace with the heartbreaking fact that the might never find Merlin and Leon again. It's as if by chance that Gwaine finds people who look just like them, in some club in Florence of all places. So, despite their friends' disbelief, Arthur and Gwaine set out to find their missing pieces Merlin and Leon have long made peace with their immortality, and they're thriving in the life they lead, even through their friends are lost to them. They're not expecting to see them every again A chance encounter of the four men sends them on a wild journey through the and universes, trying desperately to find their way to each other. And maybe find other versions of themselves along the way or dimension time travel with a lot of yearning, powerful merlin, friendship and feels, battles, and happy endings

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #bbc merlin #merlin x arthur #merlin fandom #merthur #fic rec #merthur fic #merthur fanfic #merthur fic rec #merlin emrys #merlin merthur #bbc merlin fic

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elieowlsclownery · 4 months ago

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Clara's Wings? Clara's Wings? Clara's Wings? Clara's-?

(Also Discussing How Clara's View on Usefulness Affects Her Ability to Grow Because I Can't Ever Stick to One Topic When It Comes To My Favorite Weird Girl)

For every chapter we ponder, "Is this where we get Azz's Bloodline Ability? Is this is? Is thi-?" every other chapter we ponder in equal measure, "Is this where we get to see Clara's wing's? Is this it? Is thi-?" And every time for both of these mysteries Nishi's always been like-

Since I already theorized about Azz's bloodline ability it's only fair to also discuss Clara's wings. This'll be the last M!IK post before the next chapter where everything will turn out FINE and Clara passes the terminus exam with flying colors and they all go to the muddy-buddy swamp!!!

Before chapter 384 we all kind of assumed that Clara's secret would involve her wings since out of all the demons in Iruma's school she's the only one who's never showed hers. It's kind of a big deal that demons have wings in this world. Like before Iruma told Balam he's human he was incredibly worried that he might not have wings, because a demon not having wings could be considered a danger to their health. Yet Clara never showed them, not even during the flying exam.

So it's surprising that her wings are not the big secret she's been hiding from Iruma and Azz...or at least it was at first. Now I kind of understand why it wasn't revealed. Here's a few reasons I can think of.

1: The Secret's Directly Related to Her Wicked Phase and Soulmates - While Clara ate the black candy that triggered her Wicked Phase she was struggling to study for the end-of-terminus exam. If she fails she'll be stuck doing the make-up classes and be left behind again. In fact given the sneak peak we got for the next chapter she's been worried about being left behind a lot recently, from her losing in the Heartbreaker Arc way faster and both her soulmates being at least a rank ahead of her (or in Iruma's case 1.5 ranks ahead if you count Mephisto's patented 5.5 rank.) Not to mention her soulmates going places where she can't be there for them or protect them from bad guys.

So the reason why her wicked phase is so possessive is in direct reaction to her current predicament and secret worries. It's her defense mechanism, the knot currently preventing her from moving forward, just how Ameri's worries about not be demure and sweet enough like the heroine of the forbidden texts prevented her from moving forward. So it makes sense that the secret Iruma and Azz needed to know is the one that's causing her current state-of-mind and involves them both. Her wings don't have anything to do with this at the moment.

2: Wings Still Gives Clara a Secret to Share - It's important to remember Iruma and Azz did not want to know about Clara's secret this way. Each soulmate wanted to eventually tell each other their secret on their own terms, and I wanted them to be able to say it on their own terms too! Unfortunately Clara's secret was forced open due to the circumstances, which while necessary for the story and her character development is still a bummer. BUT because Clara's wings weren't revealed she has something she could tell them on her own terms!

3: Clara's Wings Might Be Important to the Story, But Not to Clara Herself - The only time she was uncomfortable about her wings was when the girls were talking fashion and Elizabeth casually asked. Before that we never see Clara ever be put in a tight spot because of her wings, not even during the Flying Exam. This and her actual deep secret reveal makes me believe that she usually doesn't even think about her wings most days. She's acclimated to life without her wings, and her family seems to do the same, so there's no reason for her to be bothered by them.

So WHY are Clara's wings so hidden that most of the time she doesn't think about it? If the most popular theory is right, it's because her wings are a BIG deal in the demon world, and because of that her mom raised her kids so they never need to rely on them.

When Clara's mom introduced her to Babyls she emphasized it as a free and fun place, which Clara really gravitated toward. She also said that thanks to the people around her she's always enjoyed freedom.

What if her wings are hidden because it threatens her freedom? That it'll involve her and her family in not-so-fun stuff? Like if it's found out that Clara and her family have something powerful or threatening, higher-ranking demons might want to either use them to their advantage or get rid of a potential threat (we'll get to the word use later) Remember that we recently had an arc where a race of demons were threatened because their unique abilities were so essential to higher-ranking demons and that their independence threatens that access? There's good reason to not want to get involved in that power struggle.

Mind you this is if Clara's wings are what we think they are based on the lore of the Valac name. There's still a chance her wings may be very different from what we imagine....but since we're here let's talk about that option first.

The most popular and story-significant theory is that Clara has angel wings. Or technically wings of a deity, since deities been revealed to be a thing in M!IK and fill a similar role to angels. Reason this theory is so popular is due to Valac's lore in demonology, where the demon Valac has the appearance of an angelic boy who rides a two-headed serpent and has the power to find hidden treasure. He can also reveal where serpents can be found. Clara wears a pair of dragon slippers named Connor and Murf, and is capable of pulling anything she's seen from her pockets. She even called the place usually named Toybox her "Treasure Box" while in her Wicked Phase. And as for finding serpents...well....she did catch one.

All this to say a lot of Clara's appearance and powers is inspired by her demon namesake, so it's not that big of a stretch to say she could also have angelic wings. Not that she and her family are deities or angels, they might just have the wings and not the powers. But the wings themselves would be enough to stir things in the demon world, and we know someone who hates any race aside from demons, including deities.

I'd like to think if Clara has angel wings they'd be Purson-sized, tiny and cute and fluffy! That would also contrast with Balam's wings, which are feathery but more akin to wings of a predatory bird. Hers could also be more like Shura's appearance, who so far is the only deity we've physically seen. There is the room for Clara's growth that's flower-based, so maybe her wing are more...petally?

Now unlike any theories for Azz's bloodline ability (including my own) I think there's a lot more weight to the theory of Clara's having angel wings given her namesake...but I still don't think it's a guarantee. Like I'm placing my theory on Azz's bloodline ability being paralyzing at a 15% chance of happening (there's just not a lot to go by so far for ANY Azz theories at the moment. We don't even have any hints to what his dad is like!) and the angel/deity wings theory at a 50-55% chance. The chances are high compared to other theories, but it's not a 100% slam dunk. So if it turns out Clara doesn't have angelic/flowery wings don't be too disappointed.

The Angelic Wings are the most mainstream theory, and I haven't seen a lot of other ideas about her wings that go against it, so these next theories is more me just throwing some spaghetti on the wall.

One is maybe Clara's wings are "mysterious" in that it can't maintain a single form. Like the plant she accidentally made in the early chapters, strange and oddly shaped where the parts don't all match up. In that sense there'd be no point in Clara opening her wings because the wings don't make any sense for flying, and Clara would have to learn to use them in a unique and fun way, just like how she uses her bloodline abilities.

So when Clara was with the girls she was reluctant to show her wings because they weren't "pretty" like there's were, since one of the struggles Clara had in the beginning was not being attractive in a conventional way. She seemed to get over this, but as we've seen in Chapter 384 a lot of her previous worries were never really resolved, just tucked away quietly in her pocket.

The other theory I have is that instead of hiding wings Clara has yet to make her wings using her bloodline ability. After all one of Clara's biggest strength is her creativity, and she's able to pull out anything from her pockets. So if Clara sews a pair of pockets to the back of her shirt and is able to further develop her power, she could make any pair of wings using what she saw and her imagination. If she's able to do this I think it'd be a really interesting physical representation of her growth. There's also the chance that Iruma could learn to make his own pair of usable wings the same way he learned to create his bow which would be fun.

Back to the angel wing theory though if it is true it goes in line with my other talking point, which is that Clara's issues of being useful might be impeding on her ability to grow.

In a lot of manga and anime centered around a male lead there's always a female character or two that's deemed "useless" by viewers because they're always weaker compared to the main character. Sometimes this is due to the author never giving their female characters a chance to shine and a general unwillingness to ever make them even slightly stronger than the male lead, and sometimes this is due to just plain vitriol and not liking girls in general. Even when it's shown that the girl is powerful and does have importance to the story the viewers could still call them weak and worthless if the girl doesn't conform to their standards.

Clara though? Clara's the opposite. Anyone who's paid even slight attention to her abilities realizes her powers are not just strong, but has the potential to be ridiculously overpowered. Like for one she can make anything, anything, that she sees. Two if she can drag them into her costume she can trap them in her domain pocketworld, with no visible exit, and slowly drain their mana. This power got even stronger in her wicked phase, where she was able to drag Iruma and Azz into the pocketworld directly from her pockets without having to wear the costume. Like imagine for a second in a less hopeful universe that Clara Returned to Origins. She's seen the evil cycle candy. Guys, fellows and fellas, my gender neutrals, she can replicate the evil cycle candy!!!

If Clara utilized her ability properly along with her creativity she'd be a force to reckon with...but she's not. Well, I mean she is at the moment while in her wicked phase, but most of the time she's not.

Partially its thanks to THIS Loser, whose imagination was so small they could only think to use her as a snack machine. As shown when she was trapped in that illusion and this recent chapter, that fear of being used just for her ability was never erased. And while she knows her soulmates won't use her abilities...she's kind of placed herself in a different limit. That of the never-serious, always funtime Clara who cheers her friends.

Don't get me wrong, it's good that Clara is able to bring joy, it's good that Iruma said she uses her abilities for fun. The issue is that it's become a way for Clara to be useful again, where instead of being used for snacks she's used for joy and randomness. This isn't how Iruma and Azz see it, but it's how Clara chooses to be. She can't help but see herself on a value scale even with her friends. She's afraid of being used, and yet she feel she needs to somehow be useful in order to stay with them. Like when Iruma summoned her and Azz, she assigned herself immediately as the cheer captain.

I think the right trajectory would be for Clara to learn to love her abilities and realize what she really wants. Not just for her friends as funtime Clara, but for all of Clara. To be able to use her abilities fully on Clara's terms and not on anyone else's, not even her soulmates. After all magic is based one's own desire.

It's the same for Azz's progress actually. It's good that Iruma embraced his flames, it's good that his hard work was acknowledged and he's able to create something so beautiful and strong. But like Clara, he's put a real limit to his potential because of how he sees himself. Even as his friend, his soulmate, he still sees himself as a weapon for Iruma to use. So yeah maybe Azz should learn to expand his horizons too, be it through revealing his bloodline ability or discovering other ambitions outside of Iruma.

Back to Clara though the one fear I've always had long before these recent chapters is that if she's able to show her real potential and gain some notoriety like Iruma...there's a real danger others might try to use her again, and unlike her old bullies it won't just be for snacks and juice. Add that to the possibility of her having angelic wings and her potential as a chess piece skyrockets. The idea that Clara experiencing character growth and catching up to her soulmates will lead to more people trying to use her would be heartbreaking. But so long as her soulmates are around and she learns to love herself more I believe in her!

...I'm just really, really hoping a certain group never find out she went into her wicked phase or discovers her real potential. After all as stated before she can replicate evil cycle candy and is able to absorb others' mana...If Baal or Kirio so much as look at her I swear I'm gonna Isekai into the demon world and take them on myself!!!

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #clara valac #m!ik #wtdsik

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