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#traumatized versions of that i suppose
worm-in-a-trenchcoat · 2 months
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My biggest gripe with this show is how absolutely lame Zuko’s burn scar looks.
Like they can show people getting burnt to a crisp and literally being melted?? But they can’t give him a realistic burn scar??
It doesn’t even look like a burn at all, it looks like a birth mark lol 💀
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idyllic-affections · 1 year
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i have 2 baizhu fics in mind that are, shockingly, unrelated to my baizhu x chronically ill!reader series, but i am forcing myself to post content of a different character before i work on them!
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camscendants · 5 months
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I Wish I could go to the Reputation tour again so I could actually enjoy it this time
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My mom tried to tell me at lunch I don’t have ocd and she knows what REAL ocd is lol
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marshmellowtea · 10 months
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I don’t know what severance is but I read the fic anyway and it’s so cute it left me half regressed I loved it so much 😭😭 whoever mark s and Devon are. I love them. Thank you much for writing this, I’m going to save it for future reading again 💗💗 I very much relate to mark, thunder sucks when you’re small 😢 but Devon is so sweet to him!! What a good cg!!! Love this fic.
sorry for the slightly late reply but omg this is so sweet thank you so much??? i'm really glad you enjoyed it even though you don't know anything about the show or the characters (though if you get a chance i do recommend checking it out ofc, it's really good!), it makes me happy to know i wrote something that was emotionally effective even without knowing the source material :') tysm for this ask i can't overstate how happy it made me when i first saw ghdslkfjd reading again it rn has me happy stimming and smiling like an idiot 💞💞💞
#and ye devon IS a good cg :') in the show she has several moments where i was like oh yeah. she'd be good at taking care of a little#even someone on reddit who (presumably at least) isn't agere minded like me pointed out that she's a caretaker type#mark is her brother and there are multiple scenes particularly in the pilot where she's looking after him in a way that just makes me go !!#like. in my heart that is her BABY BROTHER and i can very much see them having an agere dynamic#(allegedly he's supposed to be the older one which i do NOT see but i digress lmao)#(doesn't matter either way i have no qualms with older siblings being the regressor and their younger siblings being the caregivers#as evidenced by my succession fics but this is about Vibes okay mark has younger brother energy and i'll take that hc to the grave. anyway)#though the version of mark in the fic is a little different than quote unquote 'her' mark (the show's premise is about people splitting#themselves into two selves though that's a bit oversimplifying it lol) but i can see that not mattering to her#that's still her brother#a version of her brother who's. been through some very traumatic experiences and who's also only been alive a couple years (once again make#sense in show ghlkdsjf but it only fuels my baby mark agenda ok) so i can see her being protective over him even if he's slightly different#from the mark she's used to#.....sorry i started infodumping AHKLJGFDS i'm just. very soft about these two they're so sweet ;_;#anyway thank you for a third time for this seeing this made me so happy WAUGH#marshy gets asks#anonymous
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railingsofsorrow · 7 months
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Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
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room-surprise · 3 months
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Evidence that Kabru from Delicious in Dungeon is Indian, a Masterpost
(Some of this info is taken from my upcoming essay about the names and cultural origins of all the characters in Dungeon Meshi. There's a link in the source to the AO3 version of this essay.)
Since Kabru’s first appearance in the anime is upon us, I wanted to write something that compiles all the evidence we have that Kabru is meant to be a person of South or Central Asian ethnicity, or at least whatever the equivalent to that is in the Dungeon Meshi world. 
Ryoko Kui can and does draw people of many different ethnicities, and the way she draws Kabru matches the way she draws other Asian characters in Dungeon Meshi. He doesn’t look Black, or Hispanic, or any other ethnicity because he isn’t supposed to. He looks like a dark-skinned South or Central Asian person, because that’s what Ryoko Kui probably intends him to be.
So let’s go through the evidence! (There are no spoilers for the plot of Dungeon Meshi below, but there ARE spoilers for Kabru's backstory as explained in the manga, and in extra materials like the Daydream Hour and Adventurer's Guide book.)
KABRU’S NAME
The Dungeon Meshi Adventurer's Bible tells us Kabru’s real name is unknown. There are other characters whose real names are only told to us in the Adventurer's Bible and were never revealed in the manga, but then Kabru, Thistle and Izutsumi’s entries simply say their real names are unknown, and though Kui could tell us their true names, she doesn’t. I assume this means that the characters themselves don’t know what their real names are, and that the names they go by are not their birth names, but this is only a supposition on my part.
KABRU THE MOUNTAIN
Kabru (काब्रु) is the name of a mountain on the border of Nepal and India, and part of the Himalayan range. It’s the 65th tallest mountain in the world and it is very snowy and icy, with frequent avalanches. Because of this, even though it’s not the tallest mountain in the world, climbing it is challenging, and is not often attempted. Those few that have managed to climb it consider it a major achievement.
“This prohibitively fearful icefall… had thwarted numerous expeditions, perhaps even the 'thought' of attempting the mountain… Unstable seracs of the icefall, a complex maze of chasms, and delicate snow bridges spanning seemingly never ending, near bottomless crevasses… Each time the members stepped into the icefall, they stood a good chance of never returning.” (Kabru - Mountain of the Gods, Major A. Abbey, Himalayan Journal 52, 1996, editor Harish Kapadia)
WHAT DOES KABRU’S NAME MEAN?
Kabru is a character that is known for being very good at charming people, but who doesn’t express himself honestly, because he’s trying to manipulate the people and situations around him in order to maintain control at all times. I think nobody really knows who Kabru is deep inside, maybe not even Kabru himself, so a remote, hostile, icy mountain that’s hard to climb seems like an extremely appropriate name. 
Some of the oldest English sources I found regarding Kabru suggest that Kabru isn’t the correct local name for the mountain (a common problem in early Himalayan exploration by Europeans) and might just be a descriptor, or that it’s a misspelling. 
This makes the name seem even more appropriate, since Kui’s told us Kabru’s true name is unknown. It’s possible that Kabru was a place-name or a descriptor that Milsiril (Kabru’s elven foster mother) was given when she picked up a traumatized 7 year old Kabru, and she just started using it as his name, and that even he doesn’t remember his real name thanks to his severe trauma.
The fact that people in the real world can’t seem to agree on the mountain Kabru’s name, or what it means, reminds me of the running gag of Laios repeatedly getting Kabru’s name wrong in the manga.
"All the people near the Kabru massif call it 'Kaboor'." (The Alpine Journal, 1921-22 Volume 34, Edited by George Yeld and J. P. Farrar)  “It is also said that the name applies to a peak close to Kinchinjunga on the southeast, and not to the peak known to Europeans as Kabru… [The real name is] Pahung Ri [Pauhunri].” (Appendix I: Place Names in Darjeeling. The appendix says it was “compiled mainly from an article written by Colonel Waddell and published in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal (Vol. LX, part I, 1891)”) “Kangchen is a Tibetan name… the Sikkhimese use it as the name for the peak called Kabru by Europeans.” (Charles Bell, Dyhrenfurth's Himalaya (Berlin, 1931)) “...Kyabru or the horn of protection. The name is… Kabur… possibly a corruption of Kangbur or the swelling of snow; it might also mean the white swelling (kar-bur).” (Appendix I: Place Names in Darjeeling.)  “Kabru literally means the 'White Avalanche' peak (Ka means 'white' and bru means 'avalanche').” (Kabru - Mountain of the Gods, Major A. Abbey, Himalayan Journal 52, 1996, editor Harish Kapadia)
I’ve seen one other mountaineering article cite the “white avalanche” meaning, and I think it’s plausible since the Appendix says it can mean “white swelling” or “swelling of snow”, which may very well be a literal translation for “white avalanche”. 
WHAT ABOUT UTAYA? IS THAT INDIAN TOO?
Utaya means “raised” or “uplifted” in Hindi, but it’s also a real village and a Japanese boy’s name.
Utaya (ウタヤ) is the name of the village that Kabru was raised in before his mother died and he was adopted by the elf Milsiril. Utaya is located in the southeast of the Western Continent. It’s worth noting that Kabru probably wasn’t born in Utaya, since his mother had to flee from her home to keep Kabru alive, so Utaya may be some distance away from his birth place… Not so far that a woman with a newborn baby couldn’t survive the trip, but far enough that her husband’s family gave up on chasing her. So Kabru was probably born in a close-by area.
In the real world, Utaya (Yakut: Утайа) is in an extremely rural and isolated area with a population of less than a hundred people. It’s located in the Sakha Republic, which is in the Northeastern part of Asia in the Russian Federation. The Yakut/Sakha are a Siberian Turkic people.  
The Turkic peoples are a collection of diverse ethnic groups of West, Central, East, and North Asia as well as parts of Europe, who speak Turkic languages. 
Early and medieval Turkic groups exhibited a wide range of both East Asian and West-Eurasian physical appearances and genetic origins, in part through long-term contact with neighboring peoples such as Iranian, Mongolic, Tocharian, Uralic/Yeniseian peoples, and others. Turkic peoples share, to varying degrees, non-linguistic characteristics like cultural traits, ancestry from a common gene pool, and historical experiences. 
JAPANESE MEANINGS FOR UTAYA
Utaya can be a Japanese boy’s name with several different meanings, depending on which kanji it’s spelled with. In most of the spellings: Poetry, sing a poem, singing, compose poetry
In many of the spellings: The place where the sun shines, it's been a long time, distant, big, to shoot with a bow, to swear, affirmation, question.
The Utaya disaster happened a long time ago.
If Utaya is up in the mountains above the clouds it’s a place where the sun shines brightly.
 Kabru has sworn to himself that he will prevent another Utaya tragedy from happening.
In only a few of the spellings: to mend, feathers, wings, a word for counting birds and rabbits, sort them out, washing with water to separate the good from the bad, roof, house with a roof, a world covered with a big sky, infinite space, song that praises the Buddha, Eight.
Counting birds and rabbits makes me think of divination and also that the people of Utaya were like little birds and rabbits (small prey animals) to the monsters that devoured them.
Separating the good and the bad could hint to the “judgment” of Utaya and the greed of its people that led to their downfall, also sorting through things to separate good and bad is something that’s done with food and other resources.
The Himalayan region is often referred to as the “roof of the world”, with a big open sky above it. 
The infinite could refer to the dimension the demon comes from, or to the sky above the mountains. 
Buddhism is a common religion in the Himalayan region, and eight has auspicious connotations in Buddhism. 
With all that in mind, Utaya as a name for Kabru’s home village is an interesting choice, and adds another layer to his origins, maybe suggesting not just North Indian/Himalayan, but Central or North Asian cultural influence as well. 
It is also possible that the name is just telling us that Utaya is “up” in the mountains, or that it was “uplifted” by the wealth of the dungeon, or even that Kabru was “raised” there… The Japanese name meanings are also extremely fascinating and hint at similar ideas, as well as the tragedy that happened to Utaya.
WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK KABRU AND UTAYA ARE HIMALAYAN?
In the real world, the Himalayan mountain range is an extremely popular tourist destination, and the amount of people who want to visit and attempt to climb the mountains far outpaces the local ability to support it. This makes me think of the dungeon of Utaya and how people overcrowded it in their desire to conquer and exploit it. 
Dungeons as an unsustainable way for locals to make a living that leads to the destruction of their homes when the dungeon inevitably collapses is a major plot point in Dungeon Meshi, so I think the parallel is likely intentional. Characters often talk about someone “conquering” the dungeon, and “conquer” is also the terminology commonly used for climbing a mountain. This terminology obviously has a hostile, imperialist subtext in the real world, since it’s most commonly used by outsiders talking about proving their strength by climbing a mountain.
Also, there are local legends in the areas surrounding Mt. Kabru that there is a valley of immortality hidden on its slopes, which reminds me of the way that the dungeons can grant conditional immortality to the people inside of them.
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This image of Utaya could be showing us a village built on a mountainside. The house shapes seem a bit more Middle Eastern than Nepali/Indian, but it’s not a detailed drawing and the roof styles are a mix of flat and peaked.
CULTURE
In the Daydream Hour sketchbook, Ryoko Kui included a small comic about characters sharing desserts from their home countries. A young Kabru is shown enthusiastically trying to share an unnamed sweet, and he is interrupted by his elven foster mother, who insists he present a type of elven cake instead. We know that Kabru hates this type of cake, and he seems disappointed to have to eat it and talk about it.
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The white balls in Kabru’s dessert are very likely meant to be  an Indian sweet called rasgulla (literally "syrup filled ball"). Rasgulla are a dessert popular in the eastern part of South Asia, made from ball-shaped dumplings of chhena dough, cooked in light sugar syrup. While it is near-universally agreed upon that the dessert originated in the eastern Indian subcontinent, the exact origin is disputed. Rasgulla are as culturally important to the Bengal and Odisha regions of India as Parmesan cheese is to the region of Parma in Italy.  
Rasgulla are also popular in Nepal, where they are called rasbari. 
KABRU’S PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
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Kabru is one of several characters in Dungeon Meshi with clearly non-European features: he has brown skin and thick black/dark brown curly hair. He has almond-shaped eyes with long, dark lashes (fans like to joke that he’s wearing eyeliner). All of these are traits common to people from the Indian subcontinent. His blue eyes are not common for someone with his skin/hair color, but blue or green eyes are not unheard of in that region either. 
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(Indian man with blue eyes)
Blue or light eyes are often a cause for discrimination, like what Kabru experienced as a child. More on this in a moment.
Kabru is 5’7” (170cm) tall, which is short for a Northern European man (180), tall for a Nepali man (162cm), but close to the average height of Indian men (177cm). He has a slender build, which is also common for Asian people in general, and South Asian men in particular.
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Compared to the European-looking tall-men in Dungeon Meshi (such as Laios, Falin, Delgal, Marcille’s father), Kabru’s facial features look more like the other Asian characters, such as Toshiro and his party. 
CAN DARK-SKINNED PEOPLE HAVE BLUE EYES?
Yes. Light-colored eyes are very uncommon in parts of the world where most people have dark eyes, since dark eyes are a dominant trait in real-world human beings. That means that in order for two parents with dark eyes to have a child with light eyes, both parents need to have a recessive light-eyes gene (or for there to be an illness or genetic mutation), and that’s rare in populations that don’t have a lot of light-eyed people to begin with.   
THEN WHY DO SO MANY DARK-SKINNED CHARACTERS HAVE BLUE EYES?
Anime and manga often give characters with dark skin light colored eyes instead of allowing them to have brown or black eyes, which is much more common in real life. It’s a hurtful design trope that makes many readers feel that their natural dark eyes are somehow ugly or inferior to blue eyes.
This trope is used over and over again by authors who want their characters to look “cool” and “exotic”, and for their eyes to be high-contrast to make it easier to show their emotions.
I don’t think this is what Ryoko Kui is doing in Dungeon Meshi. 
UNREALISTIC HAIR AND EYE COLOR COMBOS IN ANIME
In a lot of anime/manga, blue eyes (regardless of skin color) don’t actually mean anything in the narrative, in the same way characters having green or pink hair doesn’t mean anything, the colors are non-diegetic, they don’t actually exist in the world, like the music that plays in the background without an on-screen source. 
It’s an artistic shorthand to make characters visually stand out, instead of giving them all black hair and eyes like most real-life Japanese people… Which is what most anime/manga characters are meant to be: Japanese people. 
Dungeon Meshi has a large cast of characters that are explicitly meant to be non-Japanese. We know this because there’s a group of characters that are Japanese, and they’re drawn differently from everyone else, they wear ethnically Japanese clothing, and have ethnically Japanese names. 
Unlike other series, where eye and hair color don’t mean anything, Dungeon Meshi has no unrealistic skin, hair, or eye color combinations. 
(Except for the elves, who seem to have different genetics than real world-humans. I’ll get into that another time.)
Ryoko Kui must be aware of the dark skin, blue-eyes design trope, because if she gave Kabru blue eyes just because she thought it looked good, surely she would have made some of the other Asian or dark-skinned characters have light eyes. Out of 9 Asian or dark-skinned tall-man characters, Kabru is the only one with blue eyes.
Kabru having light-colored eyes is central to his story, and Kui talks about it.
KABRU’S STORY AND WHY HIS BLUE EYES MATTER
Kabru’s father and his family tried to kill Kabru when he was born because he had blue eyes. Kabru’s mother ran away, and ended up raising Kabru by herself in Utaya. She didn’t try to return home to her own birth family, but instead struggled to raise a child completely on her own with no money or support, which implies she had no other options, due to the fear people of their region have for people with blue eyes.
This is a real thing that used to happen frequently in areas where most of the population has dark eyes, and it still happens to this day.
In a realistic story, this is logically what would happen to a character with dark skin born with blue eyes in a place like the Utaya region. It’s rare for manga or anime to show dark-skinned blue-eyed characters facing this. 
WHAT IS THE “EVIL EYE”?
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The “evil eye” is a supernatural belief in a curse brought about by a person looking at you. The belief in the evil eye has existed since prehistory, as long as 5,000 years ago. It is estimated that around 40% of the modern world's population believes in the evil eye. This concept is most common across the Mediterranean, the Balkans, the Middle East, and Central and South Asia, areas where light-colored eyes are uncommon. 
In areas where light-colored eyes are rare, people with green eyes, and especially blue eyes, are thought to bestow the curse, intentionally or unintentionally. Just one look from a blue-eyed person is often considered enough to inflict a curse.
One of the most famous and widespread talismans against the evil eye is the nazar, a glass amulet featuring concentric circles in dark blue, white, light blue and black. It’s supposed to “bounce” the curse away from the wearer. 
HOW DOES THIS APPLY TO KABRU?
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Imagine Kabru growing up in a village surrounded by people wearing and hanging talismans that look like his eyes, because the people around him think blue eyes are evil. They call his mother a witch for birthing him, and a whore because she doesn’t have a husband. Imagine parents forbidding their children from playing with or even talking to Kabru. People crossing the street to get away from him, or chasing him away by throwing rocks.
I think the reason young Kabru was able to learn how to speak some kobold is likely because he was so heavily ostracized by the other tall-men around him, the only children he could occasionally interact with in Utaya were kobolds, who might not share the same cultural superstitions that the tall-man do. 
This childhood trauma, combined with Kabru’s experience of the dungeon collapse in Utaya, and being raised by an elf that treated him more like a pet than a human being, set Kabru up as a character who has never had a home where he belongs. He has been an outsider from the instant he was born, and every place he has lived treats him as an “other.”
To his father’s family, he was a curse. To his mother, although she loved him, he was a burden. To the people of Utaya, he was a monster. To the elves, he’s a tall-man baby (no matter how old he gets) with funny looking eyes, to the people on Merini Island, he’s a foreigner from the West with elven ways and education. 
CONCLUSION
I wanted to write this because I know some people will see Kabru in the anime for the first time today and think "Oh, another dark skinned blue eyed character! This is a bad character design that is evidence that the author is racist at worst or ignorant at best.” And I don’t think that’s a fair assessment of Ryoko Kui’s work in Dungeon Meshi.
This isn’t to say that Ryoko Kui has never done anything wrong, or that her work couldn’t be more inclusive, or that there’s no way in which she could improve. 
But there are pages and pages of artwork she’s done that shows she cares about these issues, and I think it’s worth celebrating when someone makes that kind of effort with their artwork.
ANYWAY…
If you’ve read this far, you’re very strong hahaha. I hope you enjoyed this essay. I’ll be publishing more soon when I finish my Dungeon Meshi research on the names and cultures of all the characters. Wish me luck!
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kirbyskisses · 11 months
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miguel o’hara x reader || “te amo”
chapter 3: “danger (spider)” (masterlist)
cw: heavy sexual content (no sex actually happens but miguel has thoughts), mention and depictions of panic attacks.
(minors/ageless/blank blogs, do not interact!! if your age is not on your page, you will be blocked!!!)
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“¿míguel, mi amor?” you start, “have you gotten…bigger?”
your husband lets out a stifled laugh upon realizing you hadn’t meant that he’d gained fat, instead offering a snarky response.
“why? do you want my new nickname to be gordo?”
you roll your eyes and pretend not to laugh as you walk away from your tiny daughter’s crib and down the hall to your bedroom where he swiftly follows as you continue.
“i didn’t say fatter, papí - i said bigger. look.”
you stop in front of the mirror and point as he removes his white shirt - too stained from gabriela’s babyish drooling to wear any longer. he runs his large hand through his mess of dark curls and stares.
miguel had only caught glimpses of the version of himself that originated on this earth - but dead or alive he can see that you’re correct.
he’s not just taller than that miguel was but he’s much broader - his arms thicker. his bulkier frame stretches the elastic of his costume more when he’s on duty as spider-man - compared to you and your daughter? he’s monstrous.
“being spider-man making you work out more, eh papí?”
you tease, as your soft lips trailing his neck from behind.
you had not brought it up - presumably because he seemed to have had a traumatic weekend fighting the vulture - but miguel had been acting different sexually too.
meaning, he hasn’t acted at all.
you’d had chaste kisses and tight holds, but his brain cannot let him do more than that. the idea of taking you like that when he’s partially a pretender - it would feel dubious, dishonest, a borderline breach of consent.
he has you all to himself and the idea of touching you - even when you seem so willing and ready to be touched - it drives him insane.
and here you are; hands on his bare chest, smiling up at him in front of a mirror, skin so tightly hugged by your nightgown especially your breasts - full of milk for your daughter.
and he so desperately wants to. he wants to let his hands slide downs your thighs and grope your curves. he wants his mouth to sink against yours until his tongue has memorized the taste of your own. and the the taste of your neck and your collar and your breasts, down and down and down.
he wants to know if you squeal, if you pant and moan when his tongue dips inside that most sensitive area. would it there be a hairy bush or clean-shaven sweet skin awaiting him? are you more of a silent type or would you curse and whimper and beg, hands gripping his hair like a lifeline?
you said he was bigger - you were right.
his hazy memory of this earth’s miguel was smaller - not unfit but thinner and had likely spent less time as spider-man considering his life with you. that size difference… did it apply to down there too? would you notice visually or would it take him entering you - making you squirm and whine about it being “too much” as he pounds it in.
he wants to know. he so desperately wants to know…
he can’t.
he’s the bigger man; he’s spider-man. he has the great power but the fact the allure of a lacy nightgown and sweet skin made him even contemplate betraying the great responsibility? he’s supposed to be the good guy.
the fact he even so much as contemplate taking you like that, on the basis of a lie, makes a feeling of sickness and cold grip his stomach.
“míguel-” you start to purr, in between dashing your lips across his neck. you pause sharply seeing his face in the mirror.
it’s not the usual look of arousal, or the teasing smirk, or even amusement. it’s a look of conflict, lips and eyes expressing sheer unadulterated horror that makes you pull away from him immediately voice almost breaking in concern.
“¿míguel?!” you almost yell out, overwhelmed with surprise and concern, hands the only part of your body that stays in contact with his broad form. you cup his chin and pull down to look him in the eyes.
now you’re worried. god, that makes him feel even worse. it’s clear you’ve been worried for a while - that you’ve observed difference in him; the way he pauses at foods he used to love, the way he seems just a little bit more animalistic as spider-man whenever you catch a glimpse of him on the news, and now his growth and sheer paralysis at the notion of touching you.
his heart is beating faster.
“¿qué te ocurre?” you say not in an accusatory tone but one of concern. “te ves enfermo, estás actuando extraño y no me estás hablando.” your strokes his face and he doesn’t flinch nor lean into your touch he just stays still.
your words aren’t reaching his ears except a small, so pitifully exhausted - “miguel. have i done something wrong?”
his breathing starts to become unsteady.
he knows he is the one doing something wrong. and to see you - motherly, beautiful and stubborn you - even for a second, doubt all the happiness you and gabriela have given him in this small time on this earth? he pulls away, absolutely shattered.
there is an internal battle: a devil and an angel on his shoulder yelling at him to tell you, tell you, tell you.
it is just another thing he can’t do.
his palms are sweaty.
first, he thinks it’s his regular spider-like secretion. then, he notices it’s everywhere, his hairs are standing on edge. it is a feeling he only gets as a warning — the spider sense affecting every one of his nerves to tell him something is wrong, and that he should be afraid.
there is danger in telling you that he’s not who you think he is.
you say his name one more time and his eyes flicker red and he realizes - the stoic, tall, ever-serious spider-man 2099 realizes:
he’s having a panic attack.
-
taglist: @corpsebasil @letharue @shyhairdocoloralmond @d4rno @scaraza @ooaassiiss @bizarrette @luhvbot @juiiaa @kuinnoa @kurxxmi
thank you @cruelmissdior for beta reading. ♡
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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year
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Another one of these since i haven't done it in a while! Sketch -> finished illustration
Thoughts & process below the cut :>
Out of Bounds: i deleted the sketch of this off my ipad because i didn't like it, and for months it only existed as a screenshot on discord. finally in january of this year i was like Wait Actually and decided to keep working on it. I didn't achieve the look I was going for (kind of foggy and vague. It came out too sharp and high contrast) but it was fun to throw the kitchen sink at it for an afternoon and then call it done finally. I don't remember which horse this was originally supposed to be, I think Macha?
I reused the pose, you'll find the same one in my Pascal sketchbook from the section on gait studies. That's the cool thing about doing 30 sketches at once, you can finish them up any time you like for a different drawing
The Fool ft Islin: the original concept for this is from [takes a moment to decipher the american date system on discord] January 2022
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It wasn't dynamic enough, but I've had this on the backburner for sooo long. I think I completed like 4 cards in between this sketch and the final version lol. But, for a bit of background, this is from my series of major arcana based in Inver, and in particular the events of the 1860s-era book series, Moth Viper Foal (a demo of the first book, Said The Black Horse, is available for free/pwyw in my shop). This scene is a companion to Said The Black Horse, depicting the aftermath of the traumatic fight that caused Islin to storm off. He had been working at the mill as a semiprofessional back alley surgeon when he received an offer to join the church and work as a trained surgeon in their hospital. But when he brought the good news back to his friends it was met with utter rejection, driving him to basically run away to join the church. while gay and trans. thus the card.
he didn't actually bring a bag with him when he ran out but for the sake of the card i drew him with one
Gryfon and Pantera: This is how 99% of holy beast drawings start out, even the super stylised ones. I struggle a lot to draw them in procreate so they start in sai and then i transfer them over. The story of this is already explained in the caption of the original post so I'll just talk about the process which was... honestly torturous. I actually don't like too much textures and effects on things (wild, I know) and this one and Out of Bounds are ones where I kind of preferred it pre-texturising.
The text on the side is the official in-universe report of the event, detailing the casualties, the valiant actions of Gryfon's knight before he died and so on. There's also spoilers in there :>
My main struggle with this art style is how it always ends up slightly TOO sharp and crisp in a way the just a blur filter never can correct. There's not a lot of immersion to break, to be fair, but I think this still does it a little. I need to get more comfortable doing the lines with larger and softer brushes, and allowing imperfections.
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olderthannetfic · 3 months
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I'm sick and tired of people writing posts about how if you don't always support your "crisis friend," then you're a horrible piece of shit who sucks the dick of capitalism and only thinks through hyper-individualism. I'm fully convinced that these people never had to deal with a "crisis friend," and they're either surrounded by (mostly) mentally healthy people or they are the crisis friend and don't realize it.
A crisis friend sucks the life out of you, will cross all the boundaries you'll set, and then, once you tell them that you're hurt by their behavior, they'll go to other friends and act like you're a big meanie who abused them.
I recently had to close off a relationship with a crisis friend because their objective in life was to drag me down too.
I like an actor? He's surely a rapist. I post a fic and people enjoy it? I shouldn't be happy about it because the fandom is small and those are very few comments and I'm wasting my time. I find the name of an aesthetic I like? I'm not allowed to, because it reminds them of *extremely triggering memory they'll tell me about in detail when the only thing I wanted to talk about was something silly.* I wasn't allowed to discuss my employment situation because theirs is wobbly at best, and if my family gifted me something nice for whatever occasion, I had to keep it to myself because it would upset them.
Crisis friends won't bother remembering your birthday (not even the month, just to have a general idea of when they're supposed to ask you about the specific date), they won't bother remembering what you like, and they won't care about your boundaries.
I have very few "no-nos," in friendships, and one of them is that I don't want to be put anywhere near the word or concept of rape because I was sexually assaulted as a teen and it was so traumatic I had to drop out of college and go through EMDR. My crisis friend never bothered remembering that, gleefully sending me articles of celebrities who got accused of having assaulted someone.
This is not friendship, and you're not sucking capitalism's cock if you don't want to be someone's burnt-out, underpaid, and mistreated therapist, and I don't give a shit about what Wannabe Communist Tumblr Users think about it.
--
One trillion percent they are the crisis friend.
And they do realize it.
That's why they're writing guilt trip posts to try to move Tumblr's general understanding of boundaries and appropriate behavior back in a direction that favors them.
--
Your particular... uh... "friend" sounds more than usually toxic.
The more commonplace version of the crisis friend is a lot better at not sending you triggering stuff and not insulting the fuck out of your interests.
They do still want free therapy all the time and have trouble understanding why that's just not a fair burden to put on their friends and/or they do kind of know but are in too much of a crisis all the time to figure out how to stop.
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finntheehumaneater · 5 months
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⭐️Radio Star⭐️ part 1
(Part two)
“I just don’t understand why I’m so nervous!” Robin was rambling, one of her hands flitting around her space in the passenger seat, the other gripping onto Steve’s arm as he tried to focus on driving through the swimming colors and shapes. It hurt, but he wasn’t going to complain. “I’ve been on dates with her before, it’s not like this is any different!” 
Steve squinted at the road slightly, trying to stay on the right side of the yellow lines. His vision was more blurry than normal, but it was fine. If he focused, they wouldn’t crash, and he would fine. He glanced over at her and tired to raise an eyebrow—and failed—which got a choked out laugh out of her. His eyes went back to the road. “I mean…it is your third date…”
He glanced over at Robin again as she squeezed his arm tighter, and through the cloudy-haze in front of him, he could still see the disappointment in her face. “Steve.”
“I’m just saying—,” He started, but she slapped him on the arm lightly and then grabbed onto it again.
“Ew, Steve, no no no. EW,” she said, moving her hands to press them against her face, looking like she wanted to claw her eyeballs out of their sockets, and she might have if Steve hadn’t reached over and gently moved them.
“I’m joking, Robs. You’ll be fine. Relax.” He was trying to sound cool and collected—calm, like he was supposed to be—but Robin could probably see the way that he was squinting, and the way that his voice was a bit strained as he tried to focus. She dropped her hand from his arm, but she had been holding on so hard that it still felt like it was there.
“But what if I start talking about…you know…that. And she gets weirded out and leaves?” Her voice was softer now, but still anxious.
“About—?”
“Don’t say it!” She cut in. “I don’t want to think about it.”
Steve sighed. He knew what she meant. He didn’t like thinking about it either, but still. It had to be talked about eventually, right? Come to think of it, they hadn’t really discussed it since they had gotten out. It was traumatic, and honestly? It felt kind of weird that they had stayed in contact afterwards—and that they had gotten this close, because he could still see that version of Robin sometimes when he looked at her. The one where she made herself smaller and her eyes got wide, and she stopped talking completely. She didn’t do that when she was anxious, she did it when she was scared. “I’ll help you then, alright? Make sure you don’t let slip about….you know.”
He deepened his voice at the end, trying to sound ominous, but voices were never his thing. Still, he heard Robin giggle slightly before she sighed, too. “Okay. Good. I just don’t want her to think that I’m weird for not being over this already. It happened two years ago, Steve.”
“I’m aware of how much time has passed, yes, but—some things are hard to get over. Especially what we’ve been through, okay? You’re not broken or anything for being mad at yourself over this. I am too. And it’s something we’re working on. Right?” He gave her a quick pointed look, and the car swerved slightly, so he looked back. Shit.
“I know, I know. But we’re also working on other things.” She muttered, poking him in the arm, which made him wince. He was going to have a bruise from all this.
“Sorry, Bobby, I have a reputation to uphold—“
“Does that reputation involve crashing the car and killing us?”
He went silent at that. She had a point…
He could practically hear Robin smiling, even though he wasn’t looking at her—because for now he had decided to keep his eye solely on the road—when she said, “We’ll talk more about this after my date. Agreed?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
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They were supposed to meet up with Vickie at this little coffee shop near the record store that Robin’s friend Chrissy worked at. It was little, with a lot of plants everywhere that were dying slightly in the October breeze, and a chubby black cat curled up on one of the tables. So of course that’s the one where Robin chose to sit, even though she knew Steve was allergic. 
“Seriously?” Steve whined, giving her fake pout, because now he would be banished to some other table and have to sit alone. 
“Sorry, Steven, but he’s just a baby,” Robin stated simply, shrugging and smoothing her hand over the cat’s fur, as if that made up for all of this. The cat lifted its head up and mewed, pushing its face into Robin’s hand, who giggled and kept petting it.
Steve huffed and sat down at the table next to her, sitting at the far chair. He didn’t want to be coughing and all red while Robin was on a date, because that would be embarrassing. People already thought that he was weird enough for accompanying his best friend on her dates—purposefully putting himself in the role of the awkward-third-wheel—but in truth? Robin was nervous and flighty, and if it were up to her, she would just leave the second things got slightly awkward, even if it didn’t mean the date was over yet.
That’s why Vickie was perfect for her, because she also never stopped talking, just like Robin, who was now cooing and murmuring to the cat, its little face squished between her palms as she kissed all over it, just to cough and spit out cat hair. Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to let her touch him until she had washed her hands. Thoroughly, at that. 
She looked over at him and grinned her hand fidgeting in the air slightly. “Steve, look.”
“I’m looking, Robs. It’s a cat.”
She gasped and covered the cat’s ears with her hands, kissing him on the nose again. “He is not just a cat, Stefan, he is a baby.”
“You do realize that ‘Steve’ isn’t short for anything, right? It’s just Steve,” He muttered, rolling his eyes and shrinking down slightly on his chair. It was a nice looking chair—kind of a soft, light green, with an out-of-date looking floral print. Little pink flowers. He liked little pink flowers, they were cool.
Standing up, and ignoring Robin as she was still talking to the cat and not him—“Where’s Stevie going, hm? Is he leaving? Where’s he going, baby? He’s abandoning us, you poor thing…”—he went up to the counter to get himself a drink. It was going to be a long day for him, with effectively two Robin’s babbling around him all afternoon. 
There was no-one behind the counter, so he waited there for a moment, looking around. The only other person here was a guy sitting in the corner with his head down, a book out in front of him, occasionally glancing over at Robin and the cat with a small smile on his face. It was a wonder Steve hadn’t noticed him before, and honestly, he was kind of happy that he hadn’t, because now he was just standing there and staring like an idiot. His hair was long and brown, curly, but not natural curly—like he had gotten a perm or something—and he had tattoos on his arms. Maybe more that Steve couldn’t see—which, no, he was not going to think about that, fuck, his face is so red now—
After a few more seconds of gawking, the guy's head snapped up and his eyes widened. “Shit—,” he rushed out, scrambling up and over to Steve, who stepped out of his way as he scrambled over the counter and nearly tripped as he stood up fully, his hair falling into his eyes. He didn’t look like he worked there—wearing a Metallica t-shirt (Steve had no idea what that was. A band, by the looks of it) and ripped black jeans, with a shit ton of chains and rings all over him. He looked a bit out of breath, but just cleared his throat and leaned on his elbows on the counter, smiling. “What do you want?”
“Oh, uh…I…a coffe?” Steve stuttered out, still a bit shocked and lost for words as to what the fuck just happened. 
The guy tilted his head and his smile got a bit wider. “Okay. What kind of coffee?”
“I—no, I don’t like coffee. Do you have, like…Hot Chocolate or something?” Why had he asked for coffee? Robin had coffee every morning (except today because he wouldn’t let her. She didn’t need more sugar since she was probably going to drink some here, with Vickie) not him. Fuck.
“You don’t like coffee? Are you sure? I think it tastes fine,” The guy said, shrugging and tugging on one of his curls like he was trying to hide behind it. 
“Well, that’s good for you.” Steve said, giving him a small smile. The guy looked at him for a few more seconds, just enough time for Steve’s face to get even more red, before straightening up with a nervous laugh and going to make his drink. 
It took him a while, because he kept fumbling with the cup and dropping things, tripping over his feet, while quietly singing under his breath and drumming on the counter with his fingers. This guy was a mess. But it was kind of cute. Wait, no, it wasn’t. Why would Steve think that? That was weird. It wasn’t cute, he was cute. No, that’s even worse.
Eventually, the guy spun around, looking Steve over with a stupid—yet sort of endearing?—grin on his face. “Name?”
Steve just stood there. “Hm?”
“For the order. I need your name, sweetheart.” 
And if that didn’t just make Steve want to run out of there and back into his car. But, alas, he couldn’t leave Robin alone or she might try to steal the cat she was still messing with. “I’m like—the only person here?”
The guy shrugged, spinning around a bit, his hands messing with the hem of his shirt as he faced Steve once again. “Still. Need to professional.”
Steve was pretty sure nothing this guy had done had been professional, but whatever. “Steve? Steve Harrington.”
“Aw, cute name. Okay—“ He rushed off to get the drink, but instead of just handing it to Steve, he walked over to the pick-up counter and pretended to look around the room. “Order for Steve?”
Steve laughed slightly, but it was more of a confused laugh than a happy one. He walked over and went to take the drink, but the guy pulled it to his chest, squinting at him, trying to be serious—although there was a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “Are you Steve?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
Steve froze, his expression faltering slightly as he cleared his throat. That poked a sore spot that he didn’t like to think about. “Yeah,” He said quietly, looking away for a moment and clearing his throat. “I’m sure.” He knew that the guy was just messing around, but he couldn’t help it.
The guy handed him the drink and looked Steve over, his smile dropping slightly. “Sorry about that. I know I can be a bit much sometimes, so if I said something to offend you just know that I totally do not think before I talk. Ever. And it was an accident. Sorry.”
“It’s okay!” Steve said quickly, his face flushing as he looked down to where the guy had written ‘Steve :)’ on the side of the cup, and had checked off all of the boxes just to check them off, even if the things didn’t apply to the Hot Chocolate. “I’m just kind of tired today, sorry.” 
He was lying, and the guy probably knew. But he didn’t say anything. Steve really wished people would stop doing that to him—knowing that there was a problem but not pushing to know what it was, because he just needed someone to force him to talk about everything that had happened, or he was going to melt into a pile of bloody goop. Then again, this poor guy probably didn’t want to hear some stranger rant about his unfortunate and traumatic life. He was a barista, not a therapist. And Steve refused to see a therapist. For personal reasons that Robin despised (even though she didn’t want to see one, either).
“I’m Eddie.” The guy—Eddie, that’s a nice name—offered, shrugging slightly and messing with the thick silver rings on his fingers. Steve tried not to stare at his hands so much. They looked nice. Fuck, Steve, normal thoughts, think normal thoughts—, he chided himself internally, shaking his head slightly, which made Eddie give him a confused look. 
“I like that name. Eddie, it’s, uh, it’s nice.” Eddie nodded and his smile came back in full force as he bounced slightly on his feet. “Thanks! You go enjoy your drink, I’ll be okay over here all by my lonesome.” 
“Cool.” Steve said quietly, and then punched himself inside for that. Which technically could have killed him, because the doctor said if got any more blunt-force trauma,  he was likely to not survive, but right at this moment, he really wanted to shrivel up and rot in the corner.
He walked back and sat down. Fuck. This really was going to be a long day.
——
Pinterest board!
this wasn’t supposed to be all of part one, but I need to post something now just so that I can’t back out later and get in my head about all of this.
If you want to be tagged, comment and let me know, and if you have any questions or comments, feel free to send me an ask or tag me in a post, because I like getting asks :) (and if you want to be removed from the taglist at any point in the future, just DM me and lmk)
you can also follow the tag ‘Radio Star by Finn’ (or you could just follow me) if you don’t like being tagged in things.
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, AND IF YOU SEE A SPELLING MISTAKE OR SOMETHING NO YOU DIDN’T. I DON’T HAVE A BETA READER FOR THIS I JUST WRITE AND POST. THANKS. BYE.
Taglist:
@an-atlas-or-other (because I wrote this since you said I should post it before.)
@strangersteddierthings (because I showed you a snippet of it for the WIP Wednesday thing. If you want to be taken off the taglist lmk, but I thought you might like to see the full bit)
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waywardsunlight · 2 months
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I think Luz's trauma due to being an abuse victim gets ignored a lot in favor of other characters. Luz has an odd role in the fandom as this character who other characters rely on, or who isn't an abuse victim but is supportive of her friends who are, and I think that ends up missing a huge part of her story.
Belos compliments her a lot, which is partially because he wants to reach out to her and mostly because he thinks he can manipulate her. He does some backhanded compliments, telling her she's improved but she still has work to do to catch up to him. He also thanks her quite a few times. The way he thanks her intentionally triggers her guilt, especially when he thanks her for helping him with Hunter. He also compliments her to put other people down, like when he tells her she's "better than this" (implying their race makes them morally superior).
He also uses the same manipulation tactic on Luz that he does on Hunter, although it doesn't work as well on her. He tries to remove his own agency for his physical violence by blaming the Curse. The biggest example is in King's Tide, when he pretends he can't hear her as he's racing after her to try and kill her. He ends up cutting her face while pretending to be out of control and then in the same sequence has full control and clarity to talk to Hunter and the Collector. He gaslights Luz by trying to make it seem like it was The Curse causing him to act in the way he did.
He refers to Luz as "crazy" to invalidate her emotions and harming Hunter in front of her also is a form of abuse. He's obviously aware that hurting Hunter traumatizes Luz (and everyone else) but as his focus transfers from Hunter to Luz in Hollow Mind, he starts targeting her specifically by harming Hunter to hurt her (especially in TTT). Belos shifts the blame for events from himself to Luz and also attempts to make her feel guilty. Hunter seems to understand that Luz is also being abused and tries to reassure her that Belos is an abuser and she shouldn't take what he says at face value. Luz ends up taking that advice to heart after she's able to forgive herself and face Belos. She doesn't speak to him but is able to hear his manipulation tactics and just. stare at him bc he's full of bullshit.
Just because he 'only' hits her a few times and isn't her guardian doesn't mean he can't abuse her or that he didn't. It's not really a protagonist-antagonist relationship as much as it is "adult man nuking 14 year old repeatedly until she becomes god and kills him". The idea that child abuse can only come from parents and not role models or other adults in your life is odd, because he distinctly holds a position of power over her (literally an Emperor and an adult who intentionally isolates her and the other kids alone to abuse them) and uses it to emotionally and physically harm her.
Papa Titan has to reassure her that she's okay to kill Belos because he's literally a serial killer who's lying about his intentions. Luz still slightly falls for Belos's sympathetic line until that moment because he very intentionally tried to get her to feel bad for him and also feel guilt about herself.
This is also why I really detest any fandom takes where Belos canonically is supposed to care about her, or Luz owes him anything. Manipulation is not sympathetic. Belos committed premeditated murder and then used the remains of his murder victim to try to make a "Better Version" of his murder victim which was actually just a way to punish him repeatedly and keep taking out revenge on kids who had nothing to do with the original conflict. Belos is Luz's abuser also, and Luz doesn't owe him any sort of kindness or consideration and her anger is valid.
Luz is an abuse victim of Belos's in addition to Hunter and the Collector (and Vee/Lilith by extension), and she should be considered as such rather than her trauma being invalidated in favor of other characters.
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ghostingcrows · 1 year
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I used to talk about this a lot but 
IDW Prowl is probably one of the most complex characters in the comics and I absolutely hate it when hes reduced down to “the asshole character”
Cause like
Yeah sure hes got a bit of a stick up his ass
But I feel like people just end there analysis of him there
Has he committed a lot of war crimes and done unethical stuff
Yes
But so has literally EVERYONE else in this universe
Starscream is literally the pinnacle of war crimes
The comics make a point calling out even Optimus for his questionable actions and orders during the war with the Dinobots saying he makes them do the dirty work for him
Megatron literally commits genocide and yet his story ends with an alternate version of him going free and exploring the universe with the LL
The literal war lord was treated better and is looked upon more positively than Prowl and I think it just came down to how fucked Prowl got by the writers
Because while Megatrons redemption was all in your face and you got a shit ton of flashbacks that try to justify the eventual atrocities he would commit you don’t get that with Prowl
Even when Prowl is absolutely in the right you constantly have it disregarded by characters making jokes about him overreacting (being mad OP is sending the space tyrant away with free reign of his own ship isn’t overreacting btw-) and as such you start to think of him as a genuinely irrational character when hes not
Prowl is bad at keeping the relationships he forms yes 
But he is not always at fault for that
While his relationship with CD ended poorly Chromedome is also shown to be kinda of a dick sometimes and commits his fair share of fucked up things such as when he literally ATTACKS PROWL AND FORCES HIS WAY INTO HIS MIND TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM THE CONSEQUENCE OF HIS ACTIONS WHEN PROWL THREATENS TO TELL REWIND ABOUT THE SHITTY STUFF HE DID IN HIS PAST
This leads to Prowls inevitable snowball out of control when this attack leads to an opening for Bombshell (I think its been a while since I read the comics) to use his tech to mind control him forcing him into combining with the contructicons
Something we learn is an immensely intimate thing with their minds being kinda melded 
This was something Prowl did not want 
And when all was said and done and he was calmed down he still had to live with that gesalt he was forced into with them following him around like fanboys
Nobody ever even really stopped to check in on him 
And as such he understandable went a little bit insane
He had just faced an immensely traumatic invasion of his body and mind and on top of stress form feeling like everything was out of his control and like he couldn’t stop the bad things from happening alongside bitter emotions being brought back up with a return visit to Earth and reunion with spike AND the fact that he feels like Optimus doesn’t trust him and like hes just letting Starscream do whatever he want (something that understandably freaks him out seeing as how he spent 4 million years fighting Starscream) he just kinda snaps
He trys to destroy the space bridge so that no one else can leave or get through and so he can regain some semblance of control
Is it wrong
Yes
But he was not in a good state of mind and no one was helping him at all 
And immediately following his arrest afterward Prowl is confronted by OP who is supposed to be his friend and when Prowl doesn’t say the right things to him to placate him Optimus’ response is to punch him out a window and beat the shit out of him
And not being given any room to breath this is immediately follow up my him getting kidnapped by Tarantulas who is very obviously an impactful and negative part of his past
Prowl just has bad event, one after the other, happen to him over and over again and not only does no one check up on him afterwards to see if hes okay but everyone actively makes fun of him for being understandable unstable
Prowl is a fucking tragedy and not many people seem to be able to see beyond what characters in the comics think of him
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katrinasis · 15 days
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happy 413 homestuck number day etc etc now look. the interesting thing about spades slick is that he alone out of all the versions of jack noir managed to develop emotionally beyond “born to kill universe is a fuck 19383727 kids dead” and “if i just murder enough people maybe i can satiate my hatred for all creation and utter boredom with reality.” now im not saying slick isn’t a ultra violent mass murderer because he is. the difference is slick has actual purpose in life beyond wanting to mindlessly kill people for the shits and giggles— he made a fucking city! he partook in creation despite the fact that he’s supposed to be diametrically opposed to it! he’s got a crew to run and needlessly complex heists to plan! spade slick avoids bec noir’s ennui and eventual exhaustion by actually doing something with his life, by actually working towards something productive rather than just trying to subsist off the temporary catharsis of mass murder forever. he is the most actualized jack noir in the sense that he is the only on to go beyond his base instincts and actually create something of value for once.
and the tragedy is that it’s all for nothing. every true spades slick scholar knows the line “nothing left to lose, or live for” but i think it’s worth unpacking what this actually implies— that being, slick is actively trying to end his life in cascade rather than just wanting to settle his score with sn0wman and not caring about the consequences. everything he has ever done has just been part of an LE-typical long con to get all his friends killed, get him into the exile vault, get him to doc scratch, and eventually put him into a position where he has absolutely nothing left and into a headspace where he thinks he might as well be dead anyway. he did literally everything he could have done right as part of the game— helped the players, rebuilt society, aided creation— and yet in the end was still fucked over harder than anyone has ever been fucked over before or since. sorry slick you’re going to be replaced with the version of you with no emotional development at all. sorry slick. but after all, who would ever mourn a jack noir?
tl;dr spades slick is the most tragic character in all of homestuck. WV is a close second but only because he was a grown ass man and a traumatized war veteran and then the narrative decided to make him davekat’s dog
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hobiebrownismygod · 6 months
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Did Hobie Brown give up his mask/identity as Spider-punk? - ATSV Analysis
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from @benio on TikTok ⬆️
During Miguel's speech, we see some of the spiders looking at either their past or future events, and we see Peter's wedding (past), Gwen digging herself out of her grave (future), Jess escaping rubble (unknown) and we also see Hobie looking at his canon event, which was giving up his mask and his identity as Spider-punk.
So its completely plausible that like Gwen's canon event, this is one of Hobie's upcoming canon events, where he'll end up giving up his mask later on. However, I like to think that he had given up his mask prior to ATSV for the following reason:
Hobie wasn't supposed to be in Mumbattan during ATSV
youtube
The scene in ATSV where Miles was invisibly watching Gwen talking to Jess and Lyla actually has a second deleted version. This deleted scene was similar, except instead of talking to Jess and Lyla, Gwen was talking to Miguel and various other high-level spider people.
A/N: I know this scene was deleted so it can't really be considered canon, but JUST HEAR ME OUT
While they're talking about Gwen's mistake and Spot's presence in Mumbattan, Hobie's name is mentioned (1:58).
Gwen: "He took time off"
Miguel: "Yeah because he doesn't believe in institutions, or teams. Lyla can't even find him"
Gwen: "He gave me a way to contact him"
At this part in time, prior to his introduction to ATSV, Hobie was not technically a part of the Spider Society. Nobody except for Gwen, not even Lyla, had any way to contact him.
So we've already established that people in the Spider Society usually catch anomalies or are assigned missions to do so, as being a part of the Spider Society would probably mean being willing to work as a team and contribute to the community. If you want to look more into this, @the-cat-and-the-birdie has a really cool post where they explain their views on how the Spider Society works, and I'm kind of going off on that.
If Hobie left, it would mean that he wasn't completing these missions anymore, didn't want to be a part of the community and didn't want anyone to be able to contact him about these missions or anything Spider-man related, unless it was Gwen, who he probably only gave contact information to because she's homeless and doesn't have anywhere to stay, and its been established that she stays with him sometimes.
So why did he leave?
My guess? He experienced an extremely traumatic canon event that led to him deciding to give up his mask. He was so angry at Miguel and the Spider Society for allowing this canon event to happen, that he cut off ties from the community, severed all connections with other spider-people and stayed put in his own universe, only giving Gwen his contact information.
And in this time he "took off", he began to devise his plan to wreak havoc in the Spider Society, and create his own watch. This would explain why he was so quick to help and support Miles, and why he already had watches available for both Gwen and the rest of the Spider-team to use.
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The watch he gives Gwen also has the writing "Project Bootleg" written on it.
Bootleg:
the illegal manufacture, distribution, or sale of goods, especially alcohol or recordings.
Hobie already had a plan for what he was going to do. He had already created Project Bootleg to infiltrate the Spider Society himself, and Miles' interjection became Hobie's reveal.
Now to tie back to the first point I made, that Hobie wasn't supposed to be in Mumbattan during ATSV:
The rest of the Spiders were shown coming in through portals, whether it was Miguel's entrance in the beginning of the movie, Gwen's entrance to Miles' room, or even Jess's entrance in Mumbattan where the giant spider-ship came through a portal in the sky. Hobie, Gwen, Miles and Jess were even shown using a portal to get into the Spider Society after leaving Mumbattan. However...we never see Hobie enter Mumbattan through a portal.
He just appeared. But Pavitr was surprised, so there was no way that Hobie had already been in Mumbattan before, and since Jess and Lyla didn't have his location, there was no way that they could have contacted Hobie to come help Gwen fight Spot. So how did he get there?
We have a LOT of unanswered questions about Hobie. He's a complete mystery, from his backstory, to his universe, and to his place in the Spider Society. While the other members are shown as contributors to the Spider Society who all know each other, i.e. Gwen and Jess greeting the Peters in HQ while Hobie doesn't acknowledge any of them and vice versa, Hobie isn't shown having any kind of interaction with any of the Spider Society members except for Gwen and Pav. We know that he knows the other members, because Jess, Peter and Miguel know him by name, but we don't know his place in the Spider Society and we don't know what he does. This is why I think he left the Spider Society. Because if he was still a part of it, the interactions he had with the people in it would've been different. The way he acted in the HQ, his attitude, everything, would've probably been different if he actually was a part of it or even helped out in some way.
Summary, because this analysis was kind of all over the place:
I think that Hobie quit being spider-man before the events of ATSV because of a traumatic canon event. I think he lost someone or something very close to him, and because of that he cut himself off from the Spider Society. I think he blamed the idea of canon events for what happened and that he wants to help Miles save his dad and break his canon because he thinks that by doing this, he's making up for not being able to break his own canon. I think he's been planning this Project Bootleg for a while before Miles showed up and he decided Miles would be the perfect reveal for his plan and he'd use it to prove that canon events can be broken, and that what happened was wrong.
Poor guy.
A/N:
I think this HC overall would be a cool concept for fanfic writers to focus on in their stories, because I've seen a lot of stories where reader/oc was Hobie's canon event, but very few of these go into depth about what his reaction to reader/oc's death would be and how that would impact his identity as Spider-man and his involvement with the Spider Society afterwards. If you do decide to write it, tag me in it! I'd love to read your fanfictions! <3
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galaxymagitech · 22 days
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Depending on the version, it is somewhat feasible that Bruce couldn’t talk Dick out of being Robin. Like…yes. If he really tried, he could stop him. He could lock him in a room he can’t escape. He could quit Batman and watch Dick until he’s 100% sure he’s asleep, monitor his vital signs or something. He can prevent Dick from leaving the house so he can’t run away. But all of this would mean he’d basically have to become the warden to a traumatized kid, and I can see how he’d think that letting Dick be Robin is a better parenting decision than the alternatives.
With Tim, Bruce had no legal authority over him. He could try to stop Tim, but in order to really succeed he’d have to either wipe his memories (and thus delete significant events in Tim’s life) or kidnap a thirteen-year-old and keep him prisoner. Bruce’s best option was to let Tim be Robin.
Damian is similarly difficult to control. He’s a trained assassin, and Bruce can’t ground him forever. He didn’t even make him Robin. When he came back from being lost in the timeline, Damian was Robin for a year. At that point, what else could he do?
But Jason. Unlike the others, Jason didn’t insist on being Robin. In post-crisis, Bruce was taking him to Wayne Manor and then basically went, “hey, kid, you can be Robin” in the car ride and Jason was like “cool!” But Jason didn’t ask, and I don’t think he would have. He might’ve struggled with feeling useless, might have wanted to become a vigilante later, but I don’t think he would have been anywhere near as insistent as Dick or Tim were. There are other ways he can help, and he’d accept it.
With the other kids, Bruce made them Robin because he couldn’t stop them, and his guidance and training at least could make them a little safer. But Jason, he made Robin because he thought it would fix his issues and prevent him from going down the “same criminal path as his father” and like. Therapy exists? Maybe a loving home where Robin is not intrinsically tied to Jason’s place there (because what other conclusion was Jason supposed to draw from an immediate offer of Robin?) would help?
I don’t blame Bruce for making the other kids Robin, but I don’t understand why he thought that taking a kid with issues and what he saw as a potential for violence would and making him a vigilante who beats people up would be a good idea.
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