#and yet despite that. despite that it gets me every time. because to be frank theres something wrong with me. and it is very cute. it is.

[lesbaurinkos]

whatever................

#the way even after all this time them sharing clothes still feels like a bullet to the chest #like woah the couple whos been together for 15 years and regularly shares clothes does it again? #oh u can put pictures of them wearing the same thing next to each other? should we throw a party? should we invite thomas sanders? #and yet despite that. despite that it gets me every time. because to be frank theres something wrong with me. and it is very cute. it is. #anyway bold of dan for going stooooppp when phil was making them shorter as if he didnt wear them Incredibly short. Daniel... u hush. #i cant even talk about The Hoodie. because The Hoodie felt like getting shot sooooo bad. so

[bluexiao]

#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons

NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet

WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)

NEUVILLETTE

(Before)

Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.

He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.

And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.

He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.

“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”

He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?

Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.

The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.

“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”

“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”

“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”

Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.

But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.

Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.

Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.

(During)

It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.

The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.

It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.

Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.

When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.

He is definitely a man of his honor!!

And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.

He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.

Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.

Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)

He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).

The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.

Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.

It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.

One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.

Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.

“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.

He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”

It does not stop him from giving you offerings.

Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.

“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.

“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?

You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”

He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.

He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.

He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”

For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.

#genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin x you #genshin neuvillette #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff

[arachine]

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝

+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer! eddie munson x f! reader 

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in which reader finds a pair of cuffs in eddie’s room...

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial (kinda), squirting, sassy reader, loser eddie :0

+ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a thirst about brat tamer eddie and hopper but i got carried away and focused entirely on eddie LMAO! so, to whoever sent in the thirst, i will be making a hopper version one of these days. but yeah, whore thoughts >.<

+ i feel like with eddie, he’s not as overt in his proclivity for brat taming as opposed to hopper. like hopper jokes around every so often…entertains the idea when you’re being a nuisance…but with eddie? it only comes up when you happen to discover them on accident. 

“Hey,” you call out, your voice carrying over into the room eddie was currently occupying, “what’re these?”

The brunet replies with a brisk ‘what?’ without bringing his attention to your lingering presence in the doorway of the living room, hands too preoccupied with strumming the chords of his beloved guitar.

You stand there watching as he smooths his hands up and down the body of it, like he were running his hands over the pastures and plains of a person and not…an inanimate object. He’d always treated his guitar like it was his pride and joy, because, well—it was. 

At an attempt to draw his attention towards you, you clear your throat. Once, twice, then another. 

“Edddd,” you drawl. It comes out in a lilt, soft and sweet; almost like you were beckoning him, as a gentle mother would call for her baby. However, your persistent advances to get his eyes on you are to no avail. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” eddie strums, “you are absolutely incredible, just amazing.” It’d be nice if those sweet words of affirmation were aimed towards you, but they weren’t. You were competing with an inanimate object, and to be quite frank, the damn thing was beating you by a mile. A tinge of jealously begins to form in the pit of your stomach when he goes from cooing to having a full on conversation. God, he couldn’t be more of a loser.

He’s taken out of his trance upon hearing you clear your throat for the umpteenth time in the last minute.

“Why’d’ya keep doing that?” He finally looks up, but before his eyes can fix on your own, he catches a glimpse of the item in your hand.

How’d she—

“‘Cause you weren’t paying attention to me. Thought I was the love of your life, but I guess this guitar that’s not even sentient’s got me beat.” You follow up with a small chuckle, as if to hide the fact that a teeny, tiny part of you maybe was a little jealous. And yet, despite the smile you feign, and the tone of your voice, Eddie senses a touch of jealousy? Frustration? Maybe even a mixture of both. Partially because you’re so easy to read, and Partially because you unintentionally let a little pout slip through. Cute, he thinks.

“So,” Eddie rises from his seat and saunters over to where you stand, “you were asking me where i got these old things from?” The sound of his boots padding across the floor create an ominous, heavy thud. He walks in a way that’s a little taunting—intimidating, and his smile only grows wider with each step as he encroaches toward your space in the doorway. 

“Yeah,” you reply, “I wanted…I wanted to…” Now he’s fully in your space. The palm of his hand rests flat against the surface above the crest of your head. His boot clad feet are planted firmly in front of yours, and his face (which wears a smirk now), nears closer and closer to your own—so close that the warmth of his breath leaves zephyr-light kisses in it’s wake. 

“You wanted what, baby? Some attention? Is that why you were in there,” his eyes shift to his room, “snooping around? ‘Cause you were jealous?” 

“Why would I be jealous of a guitar?” You query, but he only replies with a hearty laugh.

“‘Cause I was touching her today. Calling her my good girl, my sweet girl—is that what you wanna hear too? That you’re my good girl? My best girl?” Eddie raises a knuckle to the skin of your cheek, watching for any minuscule changes within your expression. 

“Shut up, Munson.” swiftly, Eddie pilfers the cuffs from your hands. Before you can react, the metal item is closed around your wrists, and then a loud ‘click’ resounds through the air. He’d imprisoned you in the very cuffs that you sought an answer for, essentially beating you at your own game. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then so be it. 

“You damned—“ Eddie interjects with a tsk.

“Don’t be mean, (Name),” he places his hand over his heart, feigning faux hurt. “Good girls listen, and right now I need you to be quiet.” 

The boy promptly grabs you by the forearms and pushes you inside of the room. He walks you all the way back until your movements are put to a halt by the presence of his bed. Without saying a word, he pushes you backward with the force of a finger, and waits until your body settles from the impact. 

“What’re you do—“ 

“What’d I say?” You bite your tongue and don’t attempt to hide the sour expression molding on your face. 

Rather quickly, he begins his assault on your clothes, stripping you out of your denim jeans with unbridled urgency. Next to go are your panties, but before he tosses them into the mess of clothes that vacate his floor, he sits down onto the bed, a creak of springs not too far behind. Your eyes are fixed on him and him alone. They scour every inch of his face, they scour his body, and they track every modicum of a movement he makes. 

His hands slide between the crevice of your thighs, and he slowly spreads them apart as if he were handling something so fragile, that it’d break with the blow a breath. Your eyes are still set on his; they repeat back every small glance, and every blink, and they lower at the same time his face levels with your clothed cunt. 

The blood in that courses in your body is scorching, you’re sure of it. Because the room is getting hotter, and you’re feeling dizzy, and now you’re growing a little restless as you anticipate his next move. Still, he’s unmoving. He’s just sitting there, with his eyes trained not on you, but your pussy. 

There’s a wet spot growing darker and darker with each passing second, and it clings to the silhouette of your folds, giving Eddie a generous view of his precious target. Then, without a beat, you feel the plumpness of his lips on your core. He kisses it once, twice, three times before licking a long stripe up the center. The sudden contact makes your back lurch into the air, ushering a faint whimper from your lips. 

“Eddie…” the desperation in your voice is palpable. He knows you’re growing restless, so he indulges you. The brunet pushes the cloth to the side and swipes a finger over your folds. The second he pulls it away, a tether of essence follows suit until it disappears completely. You’re so damn wet, and so damn cute with your knees apart for him like this, that it’s got him rock hard in the confines of his pants. But his intentions were to get you off, so, unfortunately, he’d have to opt for grinding pathetically into the bed. 

Experimentally, he pushes his middle finger in, slides it all the way to the hilt. His eyes briefly scan your face; you’re looking back at him intensely, though, there’s a softness mirroring back at him—as if they were saying: ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘need you’. At least, that’s what he thinks, but his assumptions must be correct because your cunt’s sucking his finger in so tightly, he can barely pull it out. so, he doesn’t. He adds another, and once again, pushes it all the way until each notch of his knuckles disappear inside. 

“God, look at you,” he breathes, “you’re so…” Whatever he says after is lost on you, because now his mouth’s latched onto your clit, and the shock renders your brain completely, and utterly useless. Jello, you feel like jello with the way he’s working his mouth on you. Very briefly, he sits up, causing a frown to form on your face from his absence. His calloused hands smooth up the pastures of your thighs, up until they reach your hips; and once they find the hem of your panties, he hooks two fingers under the fabric, pulling them down the apex of your thighs. 

Now that you’re beneath him, fully exposed with your cunt front and center, he resumes his attacks. If his eagerness wasn’t compelling before, it is now. Because now he’s getting noisy, he’s getting sloppier, and the smacking and spitting, and popping sounds are reverberating off the walls. For a few minutes, this is all you hear, all that fills your head as he works you open with the thickness of his digits. 

Instinctively, your hands move down to grasp his face but the tightness and cold metal against your skin is a stark reminder than you cannot. All you can do, is reach down and grab a tuft of hair from the crown of his head. A frustrated, strangled whimper emits from your throat. eddie blinks up briefly, then laughs against your folds. 

“Awe, poor baby,” he mocks, “do you want these off?” 

You nod your head erratically, sputtering incoherencies as his deft fingers thrust in and out of your wetness. His once agonizingly fast pace starts to slow, then he stifles his ministrations altogether, pulling all three of his long digits out. Eddie rises from laying on his belly and then settles on his knees. he smiles deviously before opening his mouth to speak.

“I’ll take these off on one condition.” You lift your head weakly from his pillow and mutter a ‘what?’ that comes out more exasperated than intended. 

“You have to admit that you’re a brat and you wanted my attention,” the boy says matter-of-factly, sporting a smug grin that you wanted to oh, so badly wipe off. 

“And if i don’t?” You counter, sporting a smug grin of your own—an iota of seriousness laced in your tone. Eddie only climbs up to your body, using the strength of his fists to hover over you. 

“Then you just don’t get to cum.” 

The statement sends waves of intermittent pulses straight to your core. You weren’t sure if it was his tone, or the fact that you could see yourself within the reflection of his obsidian eyes, or even if was because of the fact that you could feel him pressed beneath you, but you listened. 

“I’m a…brat.” It came out so hushed that if it weren’t for your lips moving, he would’ve been convinced you didn’t say anything. 

“What was that?” You sit up and slump against the headboard, the noise of metal clanging against metal being a loud reminder of your unfortunate confinement. 

“I’m a brat,” you say with a little more energy, but still you’re not done. Eddie wants to hear you say it with more conviction. More, more, more. “And…?” 

“And i wanted…I wanted your attention,” you admit, “i wanted you to touch me all day, but you were too busy playing with that thing, and not me.” oh, this is good. This is more than good—more than what he asked for, but nonetheless, it was something. And how could he hear his pretty baby’s admittances and not indulge her?

“Now, was that so hard?” Eddie asks. “I set a condition and you fulfilled it, now you shall reap the benefits.” Even amidst a setting like this, he never fails to say the most ridiculous things. But his words are of no major importance to you. All you want is to kiss him silly, and for his mouth, his fingers—his hands, to be on you.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Munson. Just kiss me.” The handcuffs drop to the bed with a silent thud, and soon as they do, you grab his face into your hands and kiss him. You kiss him silly, urgently. A peck there, a peck there, a peck there…you kiss him until all of the breath in your lungs is knocked out of the both of you. You kiss him until it’s wet, and sloppy, and heated—until your lips swell from the pushing and chasing, until the clashing of teeth and tongue become too much. 

Soon, he pulls away and leaves a slick string a saliva connecting from your lips to his. He grabs you once more by the forearms and brings you to sit up, stripping you of the black sabbath tee he’d given to you months prior. It was more yours than his now, and it suited you better than it ever did him. The sight of your bare chest sends the blood rushing straight back down to his cock, he wants to fuck you so, so, so very badly. 

For a final time, his lips find yours, and then they pull away, and wander down, down, down. They hover over the base of your neck, your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts (before making a pit stop to gently kiss your pebbled nipples), down the plains of your abdomen, and then stop at the top of your mound. This is when he looks up at you. this is when he says ‘i love you’ without even uttering a word. 

His eyes depart from your face and close shut when he places the final kiss on your mound. It’s a little longer than the rest, like he’s been waiting to get here, to worship this place, and this place alone. As soon as his lips leave your skin, they’re on your cunt in an instant. He spares you not a second to prepare; he’s focused, unfettered, and machiavellian in his process, incredibly so.

“Tastes so good,” are the words that you manage to hear. You know he’s speaking to himself and not really to you, because every so often, he mutters something else under his breath. 

“More,” you plea, pushing his head deeper until the tip of his nose brushes the opening of your slit. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against you, but you have idea what he’s saying. All you know is that he complies and gives you exactly what you want. As you stare up at the ceiling, chest heaving and falling uncontrollably, you feel the firsts of his fingers to enter you. It’s tantalizingly slow, disappears and exits in a steady rhythm. with his free hand, he clasps it under and over your thigh to keep you from fidgeting. The free palm finds solace on the bone of your hip before he squeezes it once, and then uses it to draw deliberate circles on the engorged bud. 

“E-Eddie, you feel—fuck—so good,” your voice trembles in pleasure. Wisps of his hair fall over his face, and you grab what you can to form a makeshift ponytail so that he can see. 

The last digit enters your cunt, and the delicious stretch that you were anticipating since his absence was finally restored. You’re sure you could cum just from this alone, from the mere pace his fingers set, from the places they reach, and the burn that resides when he pushes them all to the hilt. The air is getting thinner, and your moans are getting louder…there’s no way in hell you weren’t starting to get close. The final push is when he replaces his hand on your clit for his tongue.

It works in tandem with the thrusting of his fingers, and it laps at you angrily, like he were a man dying of thirst in the desert and you were the first droplets of rain: a miracle. The pink muscle dances and flicks with calculated precision. From your perspective, his movements don’t seem to have any real significance, but Eddie knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing—which is writing the entirety of his name on the expanse of your pussy. 

E-d-d-i-e. pause. then, finishes with M-u-n-s-o-n. Maybe he’s crazy, but the second he finishes spelling out his name, your cunt starts to clench him harder and your thighs start to tense around his head. If you came because your body somehow knew he was spelling his name, he’d never let you hear the end of it; because in his head, in his mind, that meant that it recognized him as yours, and vice versa. 

“‘M gonna…think ‘m gonna cum!” 

Faster than he could blink, you’d come undone right on his fingers—his face. Your back arched into the air, forming a pretty crescent shape before falling limp into the plush of his sheets. He’d lifted himself from his stomach and sat beside your shaking frame, pulling you up along with him. One of his hands pulled your head to lay against his chest, while the other opted to rub comforting motions on the side of your arm. He watched intently as your heaving chest started to settle down, your prior ragged breaths now much more even. 

You were so cute like this, all fucked out, barely able to open your eyes. The two of you stay like this for some time, basking in the tranquility of post-sex. Once you open your eyes, he immediately greets you with a snarky comment. 

“Well, hello there, sweetheart. Almost thought you were a goner,” Eddie exaggerates, sticking out his tongue and closing his eyes as if he were a corpse. You sit up from his chest and turn to him, pinching his sides.

“Ow,” he soothes his side, “but on a more serious note, you will be washing these sheets,” he points down. You take a look at the sheets, and he’s right. Your essence stands out starkly against the color of his sheets, you’ve made a complete mess of them. Smiling, you offer a shy ‘sorry’ and then hide your face in the barrow of his neck. You can feel his hot gaze on you from this position. 

“Guess i did tame you after all,” he gasps, “where’s the sass? You’re all smiles and cheeks now.” You lift your head from his neck and give him an indignant look. 

“What? I didn’t say anything wrong!” You squeeze your eyes into slits. “The guitar wouldn’t be looking at me like this right now if I used my tongue on her…” He shoots in playful banter. 

“Shut up, Munson.” God, he couldn’t be more of a loser. 

© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x y/n smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut

[omertasmoon]

An act of submission

(Emperor Zhongli x gn reader)

"They say that a good servant reflects the personality of its master…" Zhongli chuckled as he traced the brim of his cup with his finger. Despite maintaining a calm facade, the corners of his lips occasionally twitched upwards into a smirk, yet he was trying so hard to hide it—a futile exercise in suppression.

"Erm… excuse me, what?" You replied. Was he complimenting your guzheng or was he throwing shade at you for imitating him? It wasn't your fault, but you couldn't help but think that it was the result of being by his side for a long time. Putting on a private solo concert for the Emperor was nerve-wracking: one wrong mistake and there goes your wrist. One thing you didn't know was that you had managed to plant the first seeds of obsession in his heart which resulted in keeping you by his side and dragging you along everywhere he went. Too bad the amount of love he shows you is just the surface of it. You never know how deep the ocean is, hm? During the time spent with him, your brain had subconsciously picked up his habits, resulting in you emulating him sometimes. How very bold of you to assume that he hadn't noticed it.

"Erm…" A small, soft sound slipped out of your mouth. It was really obvious that you were trying to ease the awkward tension between you two.

Upon hearing the soft sound of your voice, Zhongli paused and gently lifted his gaze from his cup. His eyes full of adoration and love wandered across your features. Such beautiful features which he wished to preserve forever. If his mind were a room, you would undoubtedly be the wallpaper, your presence permeating every space, reflecting the depths of his fascination for you.

There it was, the reaction he was hoping for. That expression which was akin to a baby deer in the headlights. Your eyes were wide in confusion and your lips were slightly parted but wide enough to let out an ‘eh?’ sound. Zhongli chuckled, amused by how your face had gone red. Possibly because of the steam from the tea or him making advances on you- oh, how he wished that he was the reason of you being so shy and flustered. The soft glow of the red lanterns cast a warm light on your face highlighting the contours of your profile, giving him the opportunity to observe your facial expressions in detail. To be frank, he was proud of himself for bringing a reaction out of you. He may have experienced joy and pleasure throughout his life but they all were nothing compared to the happiness he gets from your smile. He was slowly plunging himself into the spiral of obsession but he didn't know it.

"Ah, nothing. According to what I said earlier, I put the musical instrument in the position of the servant while you are its master. The strings of it bend to the will of your hands to produce such beautiful sounds… Not to mention, the songs produced by it are as gentle and soothing as you. It reflects your personality, don’t you think so?" Zhongli replied in a genuine voice but the predatory glint in his eyes gave it away.

“Thank you…” Your voice trailed off at the end as you were unsure of what to reply

“No need to thank me, I was just stating facts” He brought his cup to his lips as he said so. Zhongli’s gaze fell upon your hand wrapped around your tea cup. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes lingering on your left hand. Even though it seemed like a request, you knew that it was an order. Your hand shot up immediately even though you were praying desperately that he wouldn’t chop it off for accidentally playing the wrong note earlier that day. A soft hum left his lips as he lifted your hand higher to the level of his mouth.

“Do you only plan on plucking the strings of your instrument for the rest of your life?” The emperor caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Erm… maybe. What’s there to pluc-”

“There are many things you can pluck, my dear. For example… my heart. You can pluck it out and I would thank you for it” The way he said it so casually shocked you for a moment. Zhongli eyed the ring on your index finger which you inherited from your mother. Your heart was thumping loudly that his words were drown out. “Y-Your majesty…” Your face was as red as the lanterns hanging above both of you.

His lips hovered above your ring for a while to toy with your conflicting feelings at the moment. After what seemed like an eternity, he brought his mouth down to leave a kiss on it. “A jade wrist loses to a golden cup, so slender, so slender, it’s the passing of youth…”

-Irene Callista

#yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #HELPP I'M NEW TO TUMBLR #SOMEONE TEACH ME HOW TO ADD PICTURES 😭 #I have a test in like 14 hours and here I am on my knees for this mf #My first fanfic so uh.. pls don't mind any possible mistake one could detect 😅 #IreneCallista

[azullumi]

alhaitham — academic rivals ☆彡

summary — the relationship between you two are merely rivals in the akademiya or so you probably thought.

pairing — alhaitham/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff (kinda), the trope enemies to lovers but academic rivals instead; headcanons

word count — 902

a/n — i haven't wrote for him after a long time (that long time was 3 days ago)

being a renowned scholar of the akademiya and being on par to the famous scribe really does bring a lot of things in your life. both negative and positive events to your everyday occurrence.

"are you reading?"

"it's amazing how you have eyes but never see the use of them."

you don't know which one's personality is at fault here but one thing is for sure, if alhaitham wasn't as frank and rational—to the point that some of his actions and words are simply just unacceptable to your moral concepts— as he is, you would be getting along with him just fine.

you also don't know if it's due to your clashing beliefs and ideas that you two just couldn't get along. or is it really just that or he just refuses to do so? eitherways, he still irks you off in multiple ways. even when it's just the sound of his breathing.

the two of you compete against each other in terms of being the best among you, as such your relationship is treated as something simply born and made by a competition, an unnatural way to form a connection with another but that's just how it is.

''are you now starting to realize that you like me after all?"

"i've learnt to endure and bear with your presence."

sarcasms, creative remarks as comebacks to one another's argument, teasing and joking words that leads to banters and bickering, and many more. you'll probably only get along with him only when the world ends. it was obvious even from a stranger's perspective that you were not on good terms with him.

but despite that, there was never a time that you two have touched on a sensitive subject while arguing or have you two said anything personal and mean that it crossed the line. it's just some useless and close-to-nothing banters that always occur—to which it has become part of your daily routine.

however, the fact that you two work really well when it comes to projects and research is something that can't be denied. even when there are countless arguments being shared because of differences in opinion, you two still end up getting the work done flawlessly.

although you could still recall vividly as clear skies the memory of when a student once said how you're only able to attain such a high academic standing and image due to you often being paired by a great scholar like alhaitham—also the man you refuse to be near to, and that all credits for the projects and research papers you have published all goes to him. if you were even given the chance, you would have chosen someone else as your pair but you don't.

this is probably part of the reason why you have a certain yet unexplained dislikeness for him. his existence basically shadows over yours.

it feels horrible having all of your hard work and effort being disregarded but hearing such words are just something common and expected so you ought to ignore it not until you hear a familiar voice speak up.

"are people like you really bound to judge and speak about things you have no knowledge of? shouldn't you focus on finishing your research papers instead of gossiping and talking about other people's lives?"

"you don't know (name) or anything that they do. i have seen how they work so hard to attain their goal and put everything that they can just to do so. witnessing you bad-mouth them while you're at that state doesn't make you look better but rather a fool."

you could immediately tell that it was him, the said man who, from the other students' perspective, deserves all the credit for every project.

he wasn't as bad as you thought and maybe for once, just this moment, you're thankful and grateful to him. but this raises the question, why would he even care to do that? he's most likely the type of person to just walk pass and just let them fools talk bad about others before reporting their conduct to the office.

honestly, this isn't the first time he has done such a thing. in moments more than one, he would often show that he cares for you as a partner (academic) and as something that is more than strangers but less than friends, occasionally speaking up for you when you can't, being cautious and keeping you safe, knowing the foods you can't eat and avoiding from ordering it when he would take you out for a meal just to discuss about your progress in the part of the project/research, and many more.

you suppose it's only an act of courtesy and him being a gentleman though isn't it too much? you just refuse to overthink it and not put any meaning behind his actions. simply just reasoning it that alhaitham is a human that have a heart behind that demeanor of his.

"why do you even care? i don't understand you sometimes. you act like you don't like me then the next you do those things that keeps me up at night."

"when have i ever said that i don't like you? you have a great mind, (name), think."

the only thing you know the two of you share is the relationship of being rivals and probably only just that. 

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#azul.writes #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact fanfics #genshin #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham #alhaitham fluff #genshin x you

[ceterisparibus116]

Hey. Why do you think Karen Page is a character people seem to hate so much? I’m fairly new to the fandom and I’ve seen people even badmouthing the actress as well, which is awful. I am curious to know what you think about it.

Welcome to the fandom! 💖 I'm so excited for you and I'm super happy that, despite being newish, you're interacting like this. (It took me an embarrassing amount of time to be brave enough to send asks to people lol.)

Also, this is such an interesting question.

I want to address the attacks against Deborah Ann Woll first. No matter how anyone feels about a character, it's absolutely despicable to attack the actor over it. Most of the attacks I've seen have been about her looks, or about her acting abilities. It's fine to critique acting abilities, but looks should be off the table. But even the critiques of her acting abilities aren't actually critiques - they're just, like you said, badmouthing, with little to no analysis. To me, that indicates that they're hating on the actress just because they're emotional (angry or annoyed) over the character.

So why do people get so emotional over Karen?

I think the easiest explanation is: ship wars. Some people struggle to enjoy their favorite ship without tearing down competitor ships. And since Karedevil is one of the few ships that was actually canon (albeit temporarily, but S3 ended with them being pretty flirty again), Karen becomes a huge target.

Another explanation is that Karen appears to be written inconsistently. Personally, I don't think she actually is (except perhaps in The Punisher; I'm not sure because I've only seen S1 of The Punisher). The argument goes: "She loves Daredevil until she finds out Daredevil is Matt, and then she treats it like an addiction, despite being supportive of Frank."

The counter-argument, to me, is clear: she still loves Daredevil, but she hates being lied to and put on a pedestal. Matt did both of those things. Frank (for the most part) did neither of those things. Her issue is with Matt, not Daredevil (which she makes explicitly clear in S3E1, but people still apparently confused on this point). With that in mind, I think she's written consistently in an incredibly nuanced way.

Another explanation is that Karen is a character who doesn't learn from her mistakes. She's rash and reckless and she lies just as much as Matt, and more often than not, people end up dead because of it. Ben is the most obvious and chilling example. Yet even after her actions get Ben killed, and she expresses serious guilt and remorse, she continues to do the same thing. That makes people wonder: is she stupid? Or, worse: was her guilt and remorse only an expression of her personal grief, and not actually the result of evaluating her actions affected Ben?

This, to me, is the most fair critique of Karen, and I sympathize with people who dislike her because of it. I will point out, however, that Matt and Foggy also repeat the same mistakes. It's obvious with Matt; it's talked about less often with Foggy, but I roll my eyes every time he acts like Matt and Karen are being reckless for wanting to operate outside the law - despite the fact that every time they limit their plans to operating inside the law, people end up dead. This makes me wonder: is Foggy stupid? Or does he simply care more about keeping Matt and Karen alive (and out of jail) than he cares about other people dying?

The actual explanation, I think, is that Daredevil is a show about very flawed and surprisingly realistic characters. People rarely shake off old habits and bad ways of thinking quickly. No matter how many times you tell a person that their friends are there for them, they (like Matt) may continue to push people away if that's their coping mechanism. No matter how many times you tell a person to ask for help before doing something alone, they (like Karen) may continue to go rogue if that gives them some feeling of control over their lives. No matter how many times you tell a person that the systems they want to trust are broken, they (like Foggy) may continue insisting that everyone should trust the system if they continue seeing the world through a lens of privilege.

Can it be frustrating to watch? Absolutely. Is it a good reason to hate a character? I'd say no, but I guess that's more subjective. Is it a reminder to all of us to be gentle and patient both with ourselves and with other people when we find ourselves making the same mistakes over and over? I hope so!

I've said before that I sometimes feel self-conscious over the fact that, in my longer stories, a character's growth is rarely linear. It's usually what I think of as a spiral. They make a mistake, they learn from it...and then the stakes rise, and so they fall back on that old mistake again, since it's comfortable and familiar, rather than trying a new approach. Or the character tries to blend the old mistake with the new approach, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes I worry that this feels repetitive, or like the character isn't learning.

But from the comments I've received, people seem to appreciate it more often than not. They resonate with it and relate to it.

So now that I think of it...maybe the root problem is simply that Daredevil doesn't have author's notes telling us why Karen (and Foggy and Matt) are making the same mistake again. 😅

Or maybe people are more compassionate towards characters in fanfiction than on TV? Or maybe people are more compassionate towards the main character than the side character? Or maybe it's misogyny? Or maybe people are just less compassionate towards Karen in particular because she threatens their favorite ship.

Aaaaand this post has come full circle.

#karen page #matt murdock #foggy nelson #daredevil #karedevil #meta #asks #ask me things i'm friendly

[frvnkcastles]

Hi!! I read that you write for traumatized girlies so here I am, i don’t know if you’d like to write about other people’s experiences but I’ve never read anything about this and it’s sad because I can’t relate to any of the fics I love with Frank. So basically after being sa multiple times I developed sensory issues, specially with touch. Some fabrics feel like I’m being trapped, and specially, and this is the ‘request’ I don’t like how some skins feel like. It’s not about them being dry or soft or oily, I don’t even understand my brains criteria to decide I don’t like how someone’s skin feels on mine, so I don’t touch anyone ever, I wear gloves like that mf Kaz Brekker and that makes me very touch starved, and when I find someone who’s skin feels good, I’m clingy asf. So maybe frank is friends with reader and she realizes she likes how he feels? And he likes her but knows about what happened to her and was waiting for confirmation to finally touch her?

ONE MORE TASTE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You don’t like being touched… until Frank comes along.

Warnings: MENTIONS OF S*XUAL ASS*ULT, sensory issues, alcohol, language, fluff and TENSIONNN

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: I hope you like this anon! I apologize for how long it took me to finish, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. I didn’t follow every detail (gloves aren’t mentioned) but I hope it meets your expectations nonetheless. Thank you so much for sharing your story with me <3

Frank liked to think he was relatively perceptive. Yet, despite inexplicably finding himself in the same room with you more often than he had anticipated, it took him all of 58 days to figure you out.

He could, of course, blame it on the fact that he wasn’t particularly touchy or handsy. Not enough to make you uncomfortable, anyway. When he had first met you through Matt who had insisted on introducing the two loneliest people he knew to one another, he had been holding a beer bottle and you were awkwardly fiddling with your dress — therefore, no handshake ever took place. And if anyone was respectful of personal space, it was Frank.

Still, he began to notice how you leaned away from him whenever he threatened to come closer. How everyone else hugged their friends, gave high-fives, just casually brushed hands… Just the slightest of touches occurred every day, every second, and you seemed to be missing out on all of it.

Get your shit together, Castle, he told himself, why are you obsessin’ over this like some fuckin’ creep? Maybe, he was just overthinking it, imagining things, fixating on how pretty your hands were and how he suddenly regretted not going for that handshake.

Then, one night, you were having a drink with Frank at his favorite bar, and none other than Curtis Hoyle happened to round the corner, slapping a hand on Frank’s shoulder as he greeted the man. ”Hey, man. Missed you at the group yesterday”, Curtis noted with a disapproving look, and chuckling, Frank scratched the back of his neck.

”Yeah, I, uh, I’ll make it to the next one. Promise”, he pursed his lips in a narrow smile before gesturing between you and his friend. ”Oh, this is Curtis”, Frank introduced him before giving your name to Curt, who reached out with his hand.

You nearly flinched, withdrawing into yourself while giving the two men an apologetic smile. ”Sorry”, you spoke in a timid voice, ”I—I have… a thing.” The worst explanation anyone had ever heard, but it was good enough for Curtis to back off, his hands lifted up in defense.

”Hey, that’s cool. I’ll leave you two to it. It was nice to meet you”, he smiled at you, and sheepishly, you returned the favor.

When he was gone, you squeezed your eyes shut and dropped your head against the bar counter. Frank frowned, but held back the urge to place a hand on your back, supposing that while he didn’t quite understand, he could still respect whatever was going on.

”You okay, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, genuine concern on his face as he eyed you up and down. His heart ached for you, and he goddamn hated the uselessness of his presence, the way he didn’t know what to do to make it better.

”I don’t know how to… how to even begin to explain”, you chuckled dryly, casting a look down at your hands, trembling ever-so slightly.

Frank licked his lips and leaned against the counter. ”Hey, I got all night. I ain’t sayin’ you owe me anythin’, but if you wanna talk about it… I got two good ears right here”, he offered, and with a look up at him, you seemed to review just how serious he was. A lot of people claimed to be open and willing to listen, but as soon as you shared, you could feel an irreversible shift in the air. But Frank? He stared right back at you, not faltering under your scrutiny, his hand wrapped around his beer as he waited for you to start.

”Okay, but you asked for it”, you warned him, earning a chuckle from him.

”I can handle it, sweetheart.”

You shrugged. ”Well, I won’t beat around the bush. I was sexually assaulted. Ever since then, I just… don’t experience touching the same way. Sometimes it’s different types of fabrics making me feel… trapped, I guess, but it’s people, too. I can’t tell what it is, why I can’t stand the feeling of some skin types, so I just… don’t touch anyone, ever”, you began to explain, glancing at your hands and then back at Frank to see if he was showing any signs of regret.

But he wasn’t. He was leaning in, listening attentively with his head tilted to the side and his eyes transfixed by you, not an ounce of judgment visible on his rough features. In that moment, he looked only kind and understanding, not even a little bit intimidating. Safe.

”That must be tough”, he muttered, sucking in a breath, ”you need me to take care of anyone, you just say the word.” You could see the clench in his jaw, and you swallowed, supposing that underneath the kindness directed at you was a whole lot of Punisher waiting to be unleashed.

”I’ll consider it”, you pursed your lips together in a weak smile, ”thank you, Frank.”

You waited a moment before speaking up again. ”So, you’re not… weirded out? Think I’m too much trouble than I’m worth?” you queried, unsure if you even wanted the answer, but before you had the chance to regret asking, Frank had spoken up.

”No.” He was direct and honest, not a hint of doubt in his raspy voice. ”Nah, you’re fine, sweetheart. Everyone responds to trauma differently, y’know? I’m a livin’ example. And it ain’t like you can choose to feel a certain way, yeah? It is what it is”, he shrugged before inching his hand towards yours, not enough to close the distance and touch you but enough to imply he wanted to.

”Don’t mean I ain’t a lil’ disappointed, though”, he whispered, and with your heart beating rapidly in your chest, you nodded.

”Me too”, you spoke shakily, wanting so badly to just be like any other person and shake his hand. Caress his cheek. Hug him, kiss him…

Dismissing the tension between you by pulling away and chuckling, you gestured for the bartender and then flashed a smile at Frank. ”Well, I say we get a few more drinks”, you cleared your throat, and lifting an eyebrow, Frank grinned at you.

”That usually work?” he asked before finishing his beer, and well-aware that it usually only amplified the need for human contact, you just gave Frank a smile that spoke on your behalf.

A few drinks turned into many more, and your conversation with Frank didn’t seem to have an ending in sight. Being with him felt so natural, so effortless — maybe it was the fact that there was no elephant in the room anymore, and you opening up got him to do the same for you.

Only when the bar closed, the two of you were practically kicked out, and still refused to leave each other’s side. ”I’mma walk you home. That alright with you?” Frank questioned while shoving his hands in his pockets, and breaking into a grin, you nodded.

It was mostly smooth sailing. But it seemed the drinks you had had were getting to your head, making it sway heavily, and before you knew it, you were stumbling on the sidewalk. You could laugh it off, until you finally tripped over air and flew towards the pavement, your body destined for impact if it wasn’t for Frank.

You found yourself reaching for him instinctively, and he didn’t hesitate to pull his hands out of his pockets and grab yours to keep you upright. Your fingers wrapped around his and he seemed to only be worried about you not falling flat on your face. You, on the other hand, panicked at the contact, and as soon as you were firmly planted on both feet, you withdrew from his touch and shoved your hands into your pockets with wide eyes.

”Oh, fuck”, Frank murmured as soon as he realized, ”hey, ’m sorry—”, but you cut off his apology with a rushed smile.

”It’s okay. It’s fine. Thank you for the help”, you insisted, and with a nod, Frank fell into silence.

In fact, silence was exactly what ensued between the two of you. He was getting wrapped up in guilt, sure that he had messed things up and broken your one very clear boundary. But you… you were trying to figure out why the feeling of his hands didn’t make you want to recoil in disgust. You wanted to touch him again.

You didn’t know how to express that in a way that didn’t sound too weird, though. But as soon as you reached your apartment building, you turned to face him before he could run off.

”Hey, wanna come inside for a while? I know it’s getting late, but…”, you offered, and before you could beat yourself up for the awkward line, Frank was nodding.

”Hell yeah, sweetheart. Lead the way.”

You were painfully aware of his taller frame behind you, making you fumble with your keys and only allowing you to breathe once you made it inside your apartment. You kicked off your shoes and took off your jacket, whereas Frank kept his on and simply wandered about the small space, inspecting all your little knick-knacks and decorations that made it truly you.

”Can I get you something to drink?” you asked with your nerves obvious in your voice, not to mention the fiddling of your fingers, which Frank noticed — just chose not to comment on.

He chuckled, though. ”Pretty sure we’ve drank plenty for the night, huh?” he pointed out while heading for your couch and gesturing for you to join him. ”Lemme clear the air. I didn’t mean to touch you like that, yeah? I apologize”, Frank went on, and with a swallow, you weighed your options. You could accept the apology and pretend like nothing had ever happened… but you knew that you’d always wonder.

”Actually”, you cleared your throat, ”can I do it again?”

It was obvious Frank was taken aback by your words. His eyes widened and his back straightened, but despite the moment of silence, he ended up bobbing his head in a nod. ”Yeah, ’course”, he spoke quietly, holding out his hand for you to take.

You only stared for a second, your stomach full of butterflies at the invitation right before your eyes, but eventually, you placed your smaller hand in his and gently squeezed. A smile broke onto your face as you brushed your thumb across the back of Frank’s hand, and Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, as well, enamored by the sight of you inspecting his scarred, calloused hand like it was the most fascinating thing you had seen.

Quietly, he moved but only to take off his jacket and roll up the sleeves of his button-up. You met his gaze curiously, and he simply gave you an encouraging nod, which was quite enough for you to trail your hand up his palm and across his strong forearm. He tensed under your touch and you swallowed at the veins protruding from his rough skin, but none of it was unpleasant. In fact, you were loving it.

”Can I touch you?” Frank whispered, husky and low, and quite enough to send a chill down your spine. You considered it for a moment, but agreed with a silent nod, one that wasn’t satisfactory to Frank. ”Need to hear you say it, sweetheart”, he noted, and with a shaky voice, you spoke up.

”Yes, please.”

Gently, Frank squeezed your hand before letting go and lifting his up to your cheek in a tender caress, his fingers soft and steady as he trailed down your jawline and to your neck. You closed your eyes and exhaled heavily, and without another thought, you let the words tumble out of your mouth.

”You feel so nice”, you confessed, and with a soft chuckle, Frank flashed a grin.

”Yeah?” he licked his lips. ”Shit, I’m real flattered, you know that?” he continued, and you could have sworn you could see him blush.

You hummed and took his hand again, choosing to be bold and interlocking your fingers. You sat there for a moment, just reveling in the feeling and the contact you hadn’t had in so long, and as you did, another realization dawned on you.

”You know this means I’m gonna be super clingy, right?” you pointed out, and snorting, Frank gave you a look.

”Pretty girl like you? Don’t sound like a problem to me, sweetheart. You just remember to tell me if it gets too much, aight? We’re doing this on your terms”, he reminded, and with a genuine smile spread across your lips, you nodded in agreement.

”You’ve got yourself a deal, Frankie.”

Mirroring your smile, Frank leaned down to give the back of your hand a careful kiss. ”Deal.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Gotta say your au mixed with the art style and such and amazing work in what we seen so far with the horror and some laughs it's just become a treat every time I saw new details (whenever you supplies them up, thanks for that)

I know you already disclosure that it's gonna be bad BAD TIMES for the puppets gang but does it have it's soft ad fluff times??

The shot were Frank ask Wally if they're dying will looking up for the ceiling hasn't leave my brain, such a raw emotional clear on them, I wonder when they were just the two of them for a while they cuddle or hold hands for comfort??

I just.i just want them to have small victories of comfort

of course it has fluff and comfort! a lot of it! having a nice blend of both makes the fluff feel sweeter & the hurt hit all the harder <3 i will now supply some (written (for now)) examples and tidbits. putting it under the cut cause it got kinda Long

Frank & Wally do become very affectionate with each other! ofc as soon as Frank woke Wally was like "ok im holding your hand everywhere we go, this is Non Negotiable". because its dark! he doesn't want Frank to stray too far or get lost! and it's easier to yank Frank outta harm's way if they're already holding hands. comfort factors into it later, when Frank starts initiating & Wally does it purely to make sure Frank is still there. but yeah they get Very comfortable with each other, to the point where when Eddie wakes up he asks Frank - misinterpreting the situation entirely - "if you'd rather have Wally than me, i understand." ofc Frank laughs his ass off bc uhhh no that is Not what their relationship is, Ed

~ similarly, (almost) everyone acclimates to Wally's need to be as close as possible at all feasible times. he's Very physically affectionate and has little to no regard for personal space or boundaries anymore. like, he'll listen when someone asks him to back off or somethn, but until then he does not give a fuck. and this rubs off on the others as they get used to it

and then there's OH WAIT IDK IF I'VE MENTIONED THIS YET but! Wally - during his main exploration phase - found the Welcome Home episode recordings! and he eventually figured out how to work a tv he found, so he added "watch an episode of me and my friends" into his Routine. when the others wake up, he includes them in this. is it horrifying for them at first? yeah. but they get used to it and find similar if not the same comfort and enjoyment in it that Wally does. like in This Scribble, Frank & Wally & Poppy & Howdy are all watching an episode, and are quoting the lines they've memorized. they all cuddle up on a couch together and watch their favorite show <3

& Wally also teaches them (as they wake up) how to repair and care for themselves / each other, sleeping or otherwise. picture a little sewing circle of Frank, Wally, and Poppy, with Poppy giving tips and guidance on how to improve. these sessions provide them with genuine smiles and sometimes even some laughs.

before Wally & Home's divorce, they'd pass much of the time with games! go-fish, charades, i spy, etc. one of their favorites was when Wally would toss a ball at Home's door, and Home would hit it back. additionally, whenever Wally discovered something new, he'd rush back to Home with it - either the information or the actual thing, if he could carry it. ex: when he'd find books or files, he'd bring them to Home and (quietly) read them aloud while resting against them

and just in general know that the Post Office is a place of safety. Wally has made sure it's secure. i like to imagine like... little craft sessions and impromptu dancing lessons and story sharing going on in there among the awake neighbors. they try to have fun despite it all

that's all i can recall for Act One's fluff tidbits rn, but trust me there is More. and also abundant angsty comfort. the downright painful stuff has to earn its existence yk yk this au is Not grimdark

#oh there's also a really specific scene in my mind of like. #poppy taking notice that wally has developed a disregard for his appearance & that he doesn't seem to think he's attractive anymore #and recruits frank & howdy to give him like... a lil spa day as best they can #they tie (most of) his hair up in a ponytail and scrub some of the dirt out & they make a little patchwork sweater for him #and poppy tells him he looks very pretty #and wally has a moment of '...? im pretty? im still...? oh...!' #they notice him putting a teensy bit of attention towards his appearance going forward from this #oh also he makes sure they All get a little 'spa day' #good feelings all around.... #rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #they all pick up little Habits towards each other #like wally will hold others' hands and just fiddle with em w/o a real point or goal #frank will adjust his friends' clothes hair if it's a lil Too out of place #poppy will hold her wings around/behind others w/o really realizing it #howdy will pick up / carry the smaller neighbors for no particular reason #eddie tends to keep a hand on the nearest person #etc etc! #there was. Something Else i wanted to add. i don't remember what it was! #but yeah! there are good things. there are Always good things.

[murdockmeta]

Matt's Protective Tendencies Regarding Gwen

So, for this post, I want to focus on three moments (cause with that many this is still gonna be too long aha) that stuck out to me on my second read-through. It's important to note these examples because Matt's relationship with Gwen is the closest we get to seeing him caring about anyone or anything.

Matt threatening George Stacy

This one is the most complex of the three. There are many layers to this scene but I think it's telling how Matt makes Gwen the center of the conversation. Also, he resorts to personal attacks on George's ability to protect Gwen and be a good father to her.

Matt does seem controlled in this scene to a certain extent, clearly there with the intention to taunt George, but I think he's... not as controlled as he appears.

This is the first time in the run we've really seen him use a more hands-on approach. So far, he's used legal loopholes, threats, manipulation, and so on. He's dodged (quite literally in some cases) every chance at a physical altercation.

Here, he shows up in relatively casual clothes (another interesting choice. the only time we ever see this.) and he eventually ends up holding George Stacy in a chokehold over the side of a building.

In the previous panel he's in, he's meditating when he's contacted by George. He picked up his phone on the second ring (not the first, despite how obvious the disruption is. hes trying to give the impression of nonchalance). He goes through the efforts of pretending to not know who's calling even though he definitely does.

When we see him again, it appears as though he's only changed his shirt before showing up at George's house. It's not the next day, it's probably not even an hour later. He was waiting for George to call. I'd be tempted to say he was growing impatient.

He starts with cheap attacks on George's morality and his job, petty things. It very quickly escalates.

Frank Castle had recently proven to be quite a threat to Gwen. Castle wants to kill Spider-Woman. Matt is refusing to let that happen. But, he wants George to be the one to make the call.

He's very dedicated to protecting Gwen but he also needs Gwen to trust him a tiny bit. He knows that if he outright kills Frank that Gwen would lose all faith in him. She would drop contact immediately and refuse to work with him again.

Yet, he's so persistent about protecting her, he goes to George to try and get him to do it. Matt wants Frank dead. Out of the equation. He's willing to physically threaten George, to get angry, to show maybe just a little too much of himself. He's trying every personal attack he can. And in his desperation to force George's hand, he reveals a lot about his motives. Even George picks up on this.

George is talking about what he thinks he sees in Matt. He thinks Matt killing Frank outright would show how bad Matt is, how cold and immoral he is, therefore losing Gwen's willingness to work for him. When really, it shows how dedicated and desperate Matt is. Matt cannot-- cannot-- lose Gwen. He needs her because for the first time since he was a child he has the chance to no longer feel alone.

He needs his plan to work. He can't have Frank mess it up but he also can't push Gwen too far away from him. So, he does all of this instead.

This is one of the most interesting goddamn lines in the whole scene. This is in the middle of Matt's attempt to attack George's ability to be a good father, his ability to protect Gwen. In that, Matt lets this slip out.

He's obviously projecting himself onto Gwen. And I also think he projects his relationship with Jack onto George but that's a discussion for another post.

So, does he think he's protecting Gwen from becoming like him? Making the hard decisions so she doesn't have to? He acts like he wants Gwen to become as bad as he does but even Gwen says in the end: he wanted to lose, he wanted to be caught. So...? We know he hates himself. And with the above line, we see the closest Matt ever gets to admitting how he truly feels to someone he lets live.

Gwen's different because Gwen represents a chance for things to go right. Matt needs to protect her because he needs her to succeed.

2. Matt refusing Gwen's apology

I was going to just highlight his first few lines in this panel but the whole thing seemed relevant to this post.

So, when I first read this line, I thought it was borderline out of character. He, of course, can't just refuse her apology, he has to give some self-centered reason why. But, everything he follows up with unintentionally reveals his hand once again.

To Gwen, Matt's reasons sound selfish and cruel. She thinks he just wants to use her, control her. She thinks he's interested in what she can do for him. And, well, he is. But it's never just that.

He wants her safe. He plainly says it. He wants her safe so that he can make sure she's not in danger, to make sure she doesn't die or make any decisions she's going to genuinely regret.

I think Matt's heavy-handedness in regard to Gwen's morality is extremely intentional. You don't change someone's mind about their personal morals by telling them how ridiculous their morals are all day. You don't change their mind by trying to force them to make deals they rather wouldn't. Arguably, that's how you make them stand their ground.

And I think that's what Matt's counting on. He sees it as a win-win, whether Gwen ends up turning evil or not (because if she does then he can finally die). But really... I think he wants her to have a reason to be good. He knows how hard-headed she is, it's one thing he likes about her. So, he knows that antagonizing her will just make her more assured when she comes out on the other side.

If she can stick through to the end and beat him, there's not much that can stop her after that. One important thing about Gwen's development as Spider-Woman is that at the beginning, she doesn't have the strong conviction to do good that 616 Peter has due to his uncle's death.

Peter died in her universe, but it didn't serve the same purpose. She felt guilt over Peter's death, but not the kind that strengthened her morals. It was this crushing guilt that dragged her down, made her lose faith in herself. A lack of confidence like that can quickly lead down a much darker path and we see that in Gwen throughout volume two.

She still needs that push. That final act that'll let her come into her purpose fully. And Matt intends on giving that to her if she's willing to go along with his plan long enough. He crafts himself into a big, bad villain for her. Just so she can be good.

3. Matt protecting Gwen's identity

Matt goes out of his way to make sure Gwen's identity stays safe. He knows her secret identity is important to her. He made sure he tied up his loose ends with Toomes so he wouldn't tell.

The one that's more interesting to me is the fact he didn't even tell his ninja her name. These ninja are assigned to protect her from any harm while they are in a foreign country and an assassin is after Gwen. But Matt doesn't bother giving them her name.

There's not even really a reason for him not to tell them other than him being overly protective of her. It's not like they're going to tell anyone, they're fucking ninja. They're sworn to secrecy out of pure principle.

Yet, Matt doesn't say anything. He could've even used it as a bargaining chip but he doesn't genuinely threaten to reveal her identity even once. Would it have really even affected his plans long term? Her identity is revealed at one point, and he still gets what he wants in the end.

But he never brings it up unless it concerns her identity being revealed in a way that may harm her. He never dangles it in her face. He respects it and protects her.

---

These are just a few moments I wanted to talk about. Honestly, the George Stacy one could've been its own post and I'll probably end up making another about it eventually.

Matt is so multifaceted and he shows that best with the people he dares to form attachments to. The main one being Gwen. The way he treats her is the closest he got to caring about someone. It's the closest we get to seeing what he's really like under all his disguises.

He demands control because he thinks that is the only way to protect the ones he's attached to. He knows, in his particular position, that there really is no other way to go about it. And he doesn't want the people he cares about to like him. He doesn't think he deserves it, really.

He wants Gwen to be better, to do better, so he allows her to hate him so much that she has no choice but to come out stronger in the end.

#hiiiiii remember this post? yes its mine #from the archives lol #im reposting in celebration of FINALLY deleting my old blog #matt murderdock #gwen stacy #spider gwen #ghost spider #earth 65 #george stacy #e65 #murderdock #spider gwen meta #murderdock meta

[sugar-grigri]

Hii! I read the chapter and I really wanted an Asa Denji kiss not Yoru 🥲. Also I think Asa is a bit interested in Denji because she gets embarrassed?

Anyway do you know why did Yoru kissed Denji?

I don't know if it's customary to thank ano who ask questions but thank you very much for your question! <33

I'm also disappointed to see a Yoru/Denji kiss and not with Asa, but that's still to be accepted. Fujimoto knows exactly what he's doing and created with Asa and Denji so he's not ready to give us what we want right away (let him cook lol)

Describing Asa as a bit interested in Denji is the right way to describe their relationship for me! She certainly is! But I wouldn't say in a particularly healthy way. Asa's personality is not that of a fEmCeL but that of a teenager going through a lot of loneliness. I never see many people point this out but Asa's life is tragic: even when she wants to do something good, her bad luck takes over.

She builds a rather cold, even haughty shell to hide a chronic lack of self-confidence, every action Asa takes is done by analysing the looks of others (the absolute opposite of Denji). Because she's a teenager who wants to fit in, but can't, creating social difficulties for her, including a school phobia. (I mean she is so demanding and wants to do well that she has memorized entire documentaries on starfish!!)

As if she didn't want others to see behind her shell and suffer again. Asa suffers from loneliness, but at the same time… she is terrified of getting out. But human contact and the recognition of others are two things that teenagers in search of an identity pursue. So Asa tragically hopes to be interesting, but refuses to take a step towards the other. What she did with Denji on their date at the aquarium, because he is the very symbol of living life without worrying about looks. As being herself is an achievement for Asa, she thought he was going through the same thing, and that he would be interested in her as she is in him. And he is! That's for sure! But neither of them are in love yet: Denji wants a girlfriend while Asa doesn't want to be alone anymore. That… that's for part 2 to develop!

Like any person suffering from loneliness, Asa clings to the slightest sign of kindness and compassion. We can see that she has quickly become attached to Denji, which also shows a potential dependency. Even if Denji is still weird, the whole of the first part has given him the opportunity to be more emotionally balanced. He also thought (90% certain) that Asa loved him, but it's not a sudden attachment it's a teenager's impatience to have a girlfriend. We can see that in this part 2, he puts up several barriers (whether it's distrusting Yoshida, or realising - even if it's afterwards - that he's being manipulated and used). Asa shows attachment issues and Denji shows trust issues.

All this to say that Yoru is what pushes Asa to the front of the stage despite herself. Whether it's asking Yoshida to be her boyfriend (making her look desperate) or kissing Denji when Asa rejected him (a nest of misunderstandings). Because Yoru, like a general, a warrior or the war itself, is all about satiation, revenge and winning. Which is a super frank and even childish personality because she is literally a bad player. You can tell she was frustrated that Denji didn't turn into a weapon. Because she wants to fight Chainsaw Man right now! Without waiting!

This makes Asa's fate even more tragic and contrasts her goals with those of Yoru: Asa wants friends, wants an entourage, wants to build relationships with others, while Yoru waits (impatiently) for the slightest relationship, a trace of affection to create a weapon.

Yoru is getting to know Asa and also knows how scared she is of others and even if Asa's rejection in this chapter was justified (considering the bullshit Denji was insinuating), Yoru doesn't care because once again, like the war, her goal is to sow chaos, and to only take into account her pride and personal interests. We are faced with a young teenager curled up inside herself, with a demon inside her on the verge of explosion. And Denji finds himself lost between these two extremes.

Added: to explain Yoru's choice to proceed with a kiss: because she is a demon. The discussions between Asa and Denji are just background noise to her ears. She has noticed that Denji desires physical affection (while he expresses it awkwardly, and "sex" represents his urgent need to be loved as it is the most demonstrative + the fact that he doesn't really have more experience, and doesn't know how a date goes), which Asa refused to offer him (JUSTLY). For Yoru, the more demonstrative and direct it is, the sooner she will have her prey's heart and her weapon!

But it all serves one purpose for me: building the relationship between War and Nayuta, the control demon. Who, if we follow the logic of Makima and Fami should be sisters. Yoru is childish, she wants now while Nayuta is possessive. All this would serve to make their dynamic clear in chap 120 :

Yoru : I want!

Nayuta : you won't have

[capseycartwright]

If it sparks joy:

"In my defense, I thought it would go better than this."

“In my defence,” Eddie said, pausing, looking around the disaster that his kitchen had become in the last few hours. To anyone who’d just walked in – like Buck had, for example – it probably looked like a nuclear warzone. Eddie had sort of had time to get used to the mess he was elbow deep in. “I thought it would go better than this.”

Buck’s brow furrowed, as he looked around. “I – Eddie, what were you trying to do?”

“Well,” Eddie wiped his hands on a dish towel. If nothing else, his hands were clean – it was sort of futile, he realised, given his clothes were destroyed in a mix of flour, and egg, and chocolate. “Okay, well – it’s your birthday,” he offered, because that’s where the train of thought had begun - Buck had never been a big birthday person, and Eddie knew why, of course, but he had taken it upon himself to give Buck a special day.

Eddie liked birthdays – he always had, if he was honest, and even more so since Christopher had come along. The joy of having a child, Eddie would tell anyone, was getting to be a child yourself sometimes. Frank, Eddie knew, would call that healing his inner child – and Eddie didn’t really disagree. That was part of the train of thought too – Eddie knew it was cheesy, but he thought that maybe he could help heal Buck’s inner child, too.

So – he’d gone to the grocery store, and he’d bought all the ingredients for the chocolate cake Linda had given him the recipe for (which he hadn’t been brave enough to try, yet) and he’s set to work making something worthy of a birthday.

Except, well – Eddie was a better cook, now, and he’d spent a lot of time following recipes diligently, but cake was apparently something that was out of his reach.

Buck still looked confused. “Uh – yeah.”

“Well,” Eddie shrugged. “I wanted to make you a cake.”

Buck’s face did something terribly complicated. “You wanted to make me a cake? W – why?”

Why?

Why wouldn’t he? Eddie – well, it was obvious, he thought, to everyone, that Eddie loved Buck a lot. Whether you read that as platonic – or more, which was frankly more accurate – the fact Eddie loved Buck was pretty clear. He loved his best friend, and he wanted to do something nice for him, not just because of his birthday, but because Eddie liked to do nice things for his best friend.

He told Buck as much, and then Buck’s face did something even more complicated.

And then Buck was kissing him.

Eddie couldn’t help the noise of surprise that escaped him as Buck’s lips crashed against his, the kiss one Eddie could feel right to his toes. He’d thought about kissing Buck a lot – imagined all sorts of first kisses – but he’d never imagined it going quite like this. Kissing Buck was – well, it felt a lot like every piece of the puzzle of Eddie’s life was slotting into place.

Despite the literal, physical mess surrounding them.

There was a smudge of chocolate on Buck’s upper lip as they broke apart, and Eddie couldn’t help but kiss it away – because that felt like something he could do, now.

“Thank you,” Buck breathed, his eyes shiny with tears that Eddie didn’t mind being responsible for – because he knew they were happy ones, for once. “For caring.”

Eddie smiled. “It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, Buck.”

send me a sentence and i'll write you a mini fic

#911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #prompt fill

[happyk44]

Thinking about that long form feral!Jason fic I wanna write but probably never will get around to doing so, and like. It would be such a disappoint to just keep my meandering thoughts in my head, right?

As far as plot goes, it'll probably end up being more character driven introspective than plot important. Like yeah there's a plot they're following because it wouldn't be PJO without a stupid quest but that's really just an excuse to bustle everyone together. Thought process is Thanatos goes missing ala SoN and Nico, flocked by Hazel and Jason, drags Percy and Thalia along to help find him because - idk, he just does. Cousin outing lmao.

Hazel is alive for no other reason than I want her to be. She was a "gift" from Zagreus as thanks for Nico helping out in the war, because he was annoyed Nico got snubbed in all the congratulations. Naturally Bianca was Nico's first thought but she was like "Nico, fuck off with that shit" and directed him to their lonely sister sitting beneath a tree and poof. Hazel.

Leo was in the Kronos army and ran away at the end of the war, because he didn't trust the gods or CHB not to kill him. He wasn't really a fighter - he just made their armor and weapons, so he wasn't technically even in the actual battle, which made it a lot easier to escape detection.

He also lives with Piper now - idk if I want to include my mute!Piper thoughts, and I'm murky on how Piper and Leo will get brought into the mix. I do know it will be a "Nico knows a guy" situation. But anyway Piper and Leo live together. Idk how they met - probably crashed into each other or caught one another stealing shit or Piper saw Leo and thought "opportunity to make my dad pay attention to me" and took him with her or whatever. Obviously it doesn't work, but Leo sticks around because Piper enjoys having a friend, and he's the one who pieces together that Piper is a daughter of Aphrodite, and warns her from ever going to CHB. Up in the air if she knows his background regarding the war and shit by this point, but they're the people they have so they're tight.

Frank's backstory is more or less the same, except after training in Camp Jupiter for a couple weeks, he's like "no. I can't do this. This is awful. How do I get back to Canada and the snow?" And then Nico pops up doing his ambassador to Pluto thing (bc while both camps know about each other now, they haven't yet started mingling and Nico is aware that Octavian has... issues).

Anyway Nico is trying to get the scope of the place, wondering it would be a good place for Hazel to live so she doesn't have to hang out in the Underworld all the time, which she doesn't mind for the most part - but she does want to socialize and make friends with living people. And Nico thinks that she'll probably have a better time with the Romans than the Greeks, because they'll associate her more with wealth.

He and Frank bump into each other and Nico realizes Frank is trying to escape camp. Offers to help him and gets Hazel and Jason who help him leave in the middle of the night, while Nico socializes publicly with the other cohorts, so that like. No one gets suspicious that Frank disappeared right after Nico showed up. On their journey back to Canada, Frank discovers his shapeshifting powers.

Currently the POVs are probably gonna be a switch between Thalia and Percy. But maybe others will join in as the story flows.

Also Jason really likes Frank's shaping shifting powers, and every time they visit him and his grandma, Frank turns into a wolf (or bear or other large predator animal) and lets Jason wrestle him. Frank does not enjoy this as much as Jason does. Jason also has to wear a muzzle inside the house as per Grandma Zhang's rules, because he "does not know to keep his teeth behind his lips". Despite this, he is a decent-ish wolf pup with her, and will grumble loudly but let her click the muzzle on with only a few pitiful whines.

#happy talks about his stories #happy talks pjo #feral!jason

[linkspooky]

The Greatest Rivalry in Comic Books

As a part of an ongoing series exploring possible inspirations from western comic books found in My Hero Academia, I'm going to be comparing the rivalry between Lex Luthor and Superman, to the rivalry between All Might and Endeavor.

Before we even begin there's an obvious difference between the two rivalries you can point out. Lex Luthor is Superman's arch enemy, he's a villain. In that sense wouldn't the relationship between All for One and All Might be a better comparison as they're mortal enemies. However, I am going to make an argument that Endeavor's character is partially inspired or at least comparable to lex, because for both of them their entire character motivation revolves around their envy of the superman.

1. Übermensch

If you are a My Hero Academia fan reading this post and have never touched a superman comic in your life, then I reccomend reading 2006's All Star Superman by Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly. For many people this is THE superman comic, if you want to read a comic that represents everything superman is about without having to bother with the tangled mess of Comic Book Continuity, and it is only twelve chapters and a self contained story. I will also be using panels from that series in this post.

The connection between All Might and Superman is obvious, they are both all American heroes dressed up in the colors of the American flag, who represent the strongest single hero in their worlds.

Endeavor and Lex is where it gets a little more complicated, because one is a hero, and the other is one of the most famous comic book villains of all time. They can't be the same, right? However, they essentially have the same motivation.

What is Lex Luthor's motivation? Of course this being comic books there are several versions of the character floating around, in some versions he has a tragic backstory, in others he was a former friend of Clark Kent, but if you were to boil down Lex Luthor's motivation to its simplest form.

Lex Luthor just wants to kill superman. Why? The reasons vary, but Lex builds super-suits, giant killer robots, death traps all with the same goal of killing superman. Enji essentially shares the same desire, everything he does is all about surpassing All Might.

They have completely opposite means of course, but Enji is also an individual who uses everything, his considerable wealth, his powers, even his own family for the goal of surpassing All Might.

Why though? Why is the idea of surpassing Superman or All Might so important for Lex and Endeavor especially. If you look at Lex and Endeavor they already have everything they could possibly want.

Endeavor is an incredibly rich, succesful, and influential figure. He has the most solved cases of any hero in existence, the respect of an entire hero agency working under him, he is famous and basically considered the peak of the society he is in.

Lex is the most brilliant mind of his generation, he doesn't even need superpowers because he essentially can build robot suits that give him the same abilities as superman, he is rich, in almost every version of his character despite being a supervillain he's one with incredibly good publicity who is still incredibly popular in the public eyes. He even runs for president once and wins. Endeavor even has an entire family of four children, which sets him apart from All Might who has no family to speak of and does everything alone.

They have everything they want yet that's not enough, they want, and want, and want, and want, and want. For both of them all of these accomplishments mean basically nothing, because they are not superman.

When they are faced with their rivals, they are both reduced to nothing more than ordinary human beings.

"You see, Superman. I own metropolis. My techonology built it, my will keeps it going, and over two thirds of its people work for me whether they know it or not. Even you have to admit it's a model of efficiency. And yet, I've often thought, why limit myself to just one city. A being with your abilities could be very useful to me, on a shall we say global scale?" Lex Luthor, Superman the Animated Series.

Why does this matter though? There's a deeper explanation if we want to take a moment to turn to the philosophy of Nietzsche. Now, the popular idea that Superman himself is named after Nietzsche's concept of the "Ubermensch" isn't exactly clear. Siegel and Shuster never said they created Superman with Nietzsche's ideology in mind, and also at the time "Superman" was really common slang to describe men of great ability, athletes and politicians. However, later works with Superman have acknowledged there's a few similarities between the character and Nietzsche's ideas.

"He's strong, he flies, he's a nieztschian fantasy ideal all wrapped up in a red cape. He's Superman." Lois Lane, Superman the Animated Series.

Nieztscehe's ideal of the Overman is a concept he introduces in his 1883 book, Thus Spoke Zarathusra. A lot of people have misinterpreted this idea to mean Nietzsche believed that some human beings were born inherently superior, but it has absolutely nothing to do with that.

NIetzsche's philosophy comes in response to otherworldliness, the idea that morals are dictated to us by some source outside of this world, and they are inherent truths. At the time this was christianity, god creates morals, and they are right and true because they come from god. Nietzsche doesn't argue that morals don't exist or don't matter, just that they don't come from god, and are rather invented by human beings for human beings. That doesn't mean there are no rules or that you don't have to follow the rules, but that we make our own rules.

It's like money, money is technically created by human beings, if you're in the middle of a desert then having a briefcase with fifty thousand dollars won't help you, but at the same time people use money. At the same time because money is a completely human creation, you could argue that society could evolve past the need for money and create some other system of rules for exchanging goods and services, Marxists certainly believe that.

"Zarathustra, however, beheld the people and was amazed. Then he spoke thus:

Despite being credited as the creator of nihilism, Nietzsche's philosophy actually preaches against nihilism. He doesn't argue there are no morals, or that people should just do whatever they want, but in Zasrathura he presents the Ubermesch as the creator of new values within the moral vacuum of nihilism.

"Man is a rope, tied between beast and overman - a rope over an abyss. A dangerous across, a dangerous on-the-way, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous shuddering and stopping.

"What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not an end: what can be loved in man is that he is an overture and a going under.

"I love those who do not know how to live, except by going under, for they are those who cross over.

"I love the great despisers because they are the great reverers and arrows of longing for the other shore.

"I love those who do not first seek behind the stars for a reason to go under and be a sacrifice, but who sacrifice themselves for the earth, that the earth may some day become the overman's.

"I love him who lives to know, and who wants to know so that the overman may live some day. And thus he wants to go under.

"I love him who works and invents to build a house for the overman and to prepare earth, animal, and plant for him: for thus he wants to go under.

"I love him who loves his virtue, for virtue is the will to go under and an arrow of longing.

"I love him who does not hold back one drop of spirit for himself, but wants to be entirely the spirit of his virtue: thus he strides over the bridge as spirit.

From Book 1, Zarathusra's Prologue, 4.

The overman isn't the biggest, or the strongest, or the inherently superior being (in fact literally all of Nietzsche's values argue that there's nothing inherent in this world) just a person who strives towards their own ideal.

"However, perhaps what is more important than Nietzsche's image of the overman is what the concept serves to represent. In slightly broader terms, Nietzsche sets up the Overman to function as a sort of idealized version of one's self - an image of a perfect and powerful being which has overcome all their fears and deficientcies, which one can and should set goals to strive towards. Of course, as an ideal, it cannot ever truly be reached but that is the point." Becoming Who You Really Are - The Philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche [x]

Okay, so that's enough philosophy nerd shit for now. Nietzsche's philosophy of the overman is someone who creates and pursues their own values, so looking at Superman and All Might vs Lex Luthor and Endeavor from this angle we ask: What are their ideals?

One of the biggest misinterpretation of Clark Kent's character is that rather than seeing him as a person, people see him as a set of powers. However, it's not Superman is the real one, and Clark Kent is the fake one, Superman is Clark Kent. Clark Kent is just a boy from Smallville Kansas, raised by two loving parents with good values who wants to help people. If Clark Kent didn't have powers, he would still want to help people because that's what he does (there's a famous storyline where he loses his powers for a year and still goes on doing the same thing to the best of his ability), he's not defined by the powers he was born with, but rather what he does.

All Star Superman is essentially a comic where Clark learns that he is dying. The reason he falls for Luthor's death trap in the first place, is because he flew straight into danger to help people who would have died otherwise. It's the perfect trap because Superman puts saving people above all else, he's not going to selfishly leave them to their deaths to preserve their own life.

One of the most famous panels in the comic is where Clark is in his last days and literally dying from radiation poisoning, and he still stops to notice something as small as hearing a therapist panic because their patient is putting themselves in danger, and he drops everything to go talk them down off a ledge.

Superman's not about the powers, but rather how they are used. In fact when Lex Luthor looks at superman all he sees is the powers. Once again, Lex is basically as strong as superman with his natural genius and intellect. The fact that he's not gifted or special is entirely Lex's own perceptive, he's just being petty because on top of all the other natural gifts he was born with, he can't fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes.

In fact if there's anyone who believes in inherent superiority it's Lex, not Clark. Luthor's logic is essentially: He was just born with all this power, I was the one who worked to get where I am. Yet, Lex also believes all of his natural abilities make him entitled to something more.

He believes he is inherently great, and yet his actions are not that of a great man.

There's also the aspect where Lex Luthor represents everything that american society tells you is the ideal, he's rich and succesful, he's at the top of his field, he's like what both american society and capitalism consider to be a great man, and yet he's beaten by a guy from Kansas.

This relates again to the rivalry between All Might and Endeavor. All Might is a hero who builds himself around an ideal, sacrificing himself for the sake of a more peaceful society. He has a selfless goal that is greater to him, and All Might as a hero similiar to superman works himself to death saving as many people as possible.

On the other hand, Endeavor has no great selfless goal. He doesn't even have an ideology. Much like Lex, all he has is his own sense of entitlement. He worked so hard so therefore he deserves to be number one.

Endeavor isn't different from All Might because he's not as good at punching people however, it's his deeds that make him different. Just like Lex for all he goes on and on about his hard work being what got him there, Endeavor also believes in ideas of inherent superiority and eugenics. He abandoned one child because he has a genetic flaw, and then trained his youngest forcefully because he believed having been born with the perfect quirk is what will make him qualified to surpass All Might.

If you want another comparison between the two, they also both used their biological offspring to try to surpass their respective supermans. Endeavor fathered children to try to create a child with a more powerful quirk than his. Lex Luthor made Kon-El a clone of himself and Superman achieved by mixing his human DNA with Clark's Kryptonian DNA.

If anything All Might is actually the one who was born powerless, because he was quirkless and he accepted a powerful quirk and trained his body for the sake of saving others, whereas everything Endeavor has done is only for himself. He, just like Lex has many things he could have done, he could have been a father, he could have saved people, but everything he does is just to prove the superiority he thinks he's entitled too.

If anything, the reason why Lex and Endeavor are so jealous has nothing to do with being physically weaker, and because their lives are so empty in comparison. They do everything for themselves so in essence they have no one. There's a small scene in All Star Superman, where he travels to the Bizarro world where everything is the opposite and meets Zibarro, an intelligent and educated version of Bizarro Superman who makes his own poetry, and then at the end of the comic he spends time thinking how amazing that is Zibarro could create poetry and even preserves it. That act of creation is the thing that Clark is most impressed with, and really when he's talking about the life he lived, it's really the other people he found amazing not himself.

So there you have it. My argument that All Might and Endeavor's relationship is not superman and batman, or even Vegeta and Goku, but rather they have the most in common with Superman and Lex Luthor as two people blessed with great abilities, one who uses their abilities in service of other people, and the other who uses their powers only in service of themselves.

#dc comics #dc comics meta #mha meta #endeavor #enji todoroki #superman #clark kent #lex luthor #all might #toshinori yagi #dc #superman meta #bnha meta #superman analysis

[anewp0tat0]

I loved the 200th chapter and I love this series but I think we'll be back to 10 pages sadly. If we don't get the start of a Finnian flashback then I feel we'll be back in the larder with more info dumping or a start of an escape plan. I just hope that it doesn't end on a cliffhanger where someone tries to come in then next chapter it just ends up being Snake.

I would love him to find them but not the cliffhanger part. I think they would feel a small bit of relief but still look at him with an intense/hostile expression except Finnian. (Oliver will just look worried but he still wouldn't trust Snake. None of them would.)

dude ngl I had to refresh myself on who Oliver is cause it really just doesn't stick with me😅 if there's such thing as a character limit, I think we're reaching it, atleast for my own personal taste....

but anyways, I know exactly how you feel. I mean jeez, I'm hoping it won't be as few as 10 from now on- in fact I'm so desperate and hopeful that I want to trick myself into believing that this terrible pacing was only for the servant arcs, and that the chapters will get longer when we get back to the main characters.... but honestly who knows.

to be so frank, I don't even know if I want another flashback right now. I know it's gotta happen cause yana has to stay consistent. I would love a little flashback from snake I think, and if Finny needs to be explored more then sure. but for some reason, the thought of holding on for the plot to move for 10 more months seems more painful than the last 2 times. I should have gotten used to it by now😅 I guess this mini arc is especially slow, but also exciting and horrifying that I really wanna find out more, faster.

and also, I agree, I really hope snake gets involved with this soon and starts to help out. but I'm guessing that he isn't involved yet because his discovery of what's really going on will be what forces him to decide which side to take: Doll or Finny's. that may trigger the flashback...

sorry if I just piled up a bunch of negativity, I never like being like that cause despite all it's problems, kuro is meant to be something I enjoy. and ofc I do, still and later and all the time. but thanks for talking about this anyway, I like venting every now and again😌

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji spoilers #kuro spoilers #kuroshitsuji chapter 200 #kuro chapter 200 #my asks #thanks for the ask!

[umbran6]

Leo Should've Hated Hephaestus 

AN: Yes, I'm back from the grave of being buried by work and uni and the entire mess that is my life. And I thought I might do what I do best: think of what could've been or what should've been.

The one thing that irks me more than anything is that Leo had more than every right to hate Hephaestus. Almost to Luke levels of hate towards Hermes, and arguably beyond that. Yes, Leo had more right to hate Hephaestus than Luke, who wanted to tear Olympus apart because of his own daddy issues and made a deal with Kronos to get such power.

One of the key things that we kind of tend to forget during the only time Leo and Hephaestus interact is that the god shows he watched Leo throughout his entire life - and he just watched. He didn't lift a finger when Leo's mother was struggling to make ends meet. He didn't lift a finger when Leo was living in the streets. And he certainly didn't lift a finger when Leo was confronted by Gaea when he was eight years old and killed his mother by accident.

And that last one is the one that really makes me want to strangle Hephaestus with my bare hands. Leo's mother died in a fire, in her workshop. By all rights, that was Hephaestus' domain. Sure, there is the whole thing about gods not being able to actively intervene in the lives of mortals aside from banging them, but this event was where Hephaestus could do everything in his power to intervene. He could've had the flames spare Leo's mom, used his divine authority to stop the flames from spreading and destroying the entire warehouse. Shown up and got Gaea to back off. But he did nothing.

One other thing, that we seem to ignore is that it is quite clear that Hephaestus clearly favored his other children a lot more in comparison to Leo. First thing that we see in Cabin Nine's actual introduction was that... there are a lot of them - some older, and some younger than Leo. But what stands out most of all is that Harley, an eight year old, had already been claimed when Leo was sixteen when he first arrived. It doesn't exactly take a genius to do the math and find out that Harley must've roughly been born around the time Gaea visited Leo. Yet Harley is the one claimed and brought to Camp earlier in comparison to Leo, even earlier than the standard that Percy made the gods promise in The Last Olympian. Harley is eight years old, when demigod powers aren't even showing up, yet he is the one whisked off by a satyr to Camp Half-Blood. Leo, in the meantime, knows his powers, was emotionally traumatized and broken by them, yet it takes eight years for a satyr to actually notice him despite Leo having powers that haven't been seen for several hundred years.

And then ooh boy, we get to the actual meeting. Hephaestus hardly apologizes for not helping Leo in any single way, only reminiscing that he misses Leo's mother for a few seconds only for Leo to call him out for not even being there. As for his lack of action, Hephaestus sweeps it down the rug claiming that he couldn't intervene, or claim Leo when he was younger. As for interacting with Leo, Hephaestus said that 'he wasn't good with organic life forms.'

And to that, I call bullshit. Social awkwardness can only be an excuse so far, and Hephaestus basically used it to not interact with Leo for eight years. Hera, the freaking goddess who taught Leo how to use knives, who hates demigods with a burning passion, had more positive interaction with Leo.

And all of the other gods when it came to their children had somewhat reasonable excuses. Hermes, who we all knew tried as much as he could and still screwed the pooched with Luke, still did his best to help his son. Poseidon couldn't even intervene because we all know it would've painted a big bull's eye on Percy's back. Mars didn't stop Frank's mom from dying in combat because she actively knew the consequences of doing so. Pluto tried to convince Hazel's mom to not go to Alaska and resurrect Alcyoenus. Hephaestus may have expressed an 'interest' in talking with Leo, but didn't do so until Leo was in the middle of a quest, and it wasn't even to apologize. It was to info dump about the Giants. The only thing that could even be comparable to worse levels is Zeus, and that's because the king of the gods stuck his dick into

So yes, Leo has every right to hate Hephaestus. He should've hated Hephaestus. Hell, he wanted to chew out Hephaestus for leaving him alone for eight years, yet it was just swept aside. Even his siblings, because its clear that Hephaestus was playing favorites. It should've been more incorporated in his character arc because in comparison to nearly every freaking demigod we know of, Leo was the one that suffered more directly from Hephaestus' inaction.

#leo valdez #luke castellan #hoo #pjo #Hephaestus is a horrible father #percy jackson #annabeth chase

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Splendid is the Flower Chapter 1: Orchids

Series Masterlist          Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!OC

summary: While getting to know Frank, Wren experiments with different ways of expressing her affection to the gruff man. 

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n 

a/n: This was supposed to be a single fic but it ended up getting so long that I split it up into 5 pieces instead. I had a really fun time exploring Frank’s character with this piece. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

w/c: 1.3k

“Once in a golden hour

I cast to earth a seed.

Up there came a flower 

The people said, a weed.” 

—Lord Tennyson’s ‘The Flower’ 

They had only been traveling together for a handful of months when she decided to try something new. 

Frank was still a stone wall of sharp commands and exasperated grumbling most days. Wren appreciated his company nonetheless. His harsh demeanor kept her away from prying eyes and his proficiency with swords and crossbows had proven more than educational. 

Despite his aversion to others, and, seemingly, to his own general happiness, he seemed almost…content with her companionship. While he still rolled his eyes at her cheerfulness, and ignored her attempts to care for him, she’d noticed a striking increase of smirks on his lips recently. She decided to take that as a sign that he didn’t hate her for following him around—even though he repeatedly reminded her that their fates were not bound together, as she had once suggested. 

Regardless of why they ended up on each other’s doorsteps time and time again, Wren cared for Frank. She was one of very few, it seemed. His behavior effortlessly created a barrier that most people weren’t willing to cross, but she wasn’t one to say no to a challenge. 

Staying on Frank’s good side while treating him with genuine care required an ongoing series of rules, otherwise she ran the risk of spooking him and ruining any connection that existed between them. She kept detailed mental notes of when each form of affection was accepted, if at all. 

After a lifetime as a soldier and an outcast, Frank didn’t even flinch when vile words were thrown his way. The mere thought of some of the insults that had been hurled at him were enough to make Wren shudder, but Frank would merely shrug and move on with his day. To make up for the viciousness that he faced elsewhere, Wren had committed to using kind words around him early on in their companionship. He was clearly uncomfortable with praise and compliments (if the way he rolled his eyes and pretended not to hear her was any indication) but his footfalls always seemed lighter when she called him sweet or thanked him earnestly. 

The next thing she noticed was his expectation of violence from everyone around him. Given his line of work, he had to be accustomed to brutality, but Wren found it sad that he was so at ease in a fight. Especially when he had practically hyperventilated after she tried to hug him for the first time. After some trial and error, she realized Frank did appreciate a gentle hand from her, but only every so often. Though he was clearly touch starved, he would shy away from Wren if she got too attached. She wasn’t quite sure what that was about, but she hoped to find out.

Because he had traveled on his own for so long, Frank had a difficult time asking for and accepting her help. If Wren needed something, it was absolutely futile to ignore his attempts to care for her. Even if he complained throughout, he would brood for days if she denied him the opportunity. She was hurt? He insisted on stitching her up. Hungry? He’d share his meal. Lamenting and objecting the whole time, sure, but he’d be damned if she didn’t have that last slice of meat. Unfortunately, Wren had yet to discover the key to returning the favor without him lashing out. She’d just have to keep studying.

But, one day, when she was running an errand for an acquaintance in a neighboring town, Wren realized something. Throughout all of her observations, she had never even tried to give Frank a gift. She had no idea how he’d react to it, but if she was careful enough… It just might work. 

Once she was safely back in their temporary quarters, Wren fussed with the colorful bundle she had just acquired. Eventually, after much thought, it was placed next to Frank’s things. Intentionally close enough that he could inspect it, but far enough that he wouldn’t be forced to. Now to wait for him to react. 

Frank was running late after a shit hunt that was for shit pay because the shit innkeeper had failed to realize that the “fylgja” he had asked Frank to find was actually a pack of draugar using illusory magic. When Frank returned with the rotting corpses of revenants instead of a beautiful woman who could grant immense fortune, the innkeeper was less than thrilled—giving Frank barely half of the agreed upon compensation. 

Trudging back to their small room, Frank was downright enraged. Using his shoulder to shove open the door, he tossed the sack of coins onto the bed in the corner and began stripping off his foul-smelling, gut-covered clothes. 

The room was filled with a rage-induced silence for a few minutes until a voice piped up. 

“Hunt was that bad, huh?” 

“Fuck!” Frank whirled around, blade drawn and pointed at a familiar, smiling face. “Wren, shit, you can’t fucking do that. Vicious pyret.”

Wren giggled, completely unperturbed by his dagger slashing so close to her. “Sorry, you just were so wrapped up in yourself, you didn’t even notice I was here. You hurt?”

“Not physically. Financially, on the other hand…” Frank grumbled, sheathing his weapon and returning to the task at hand. 

“He shorted you?” Curious, Wren padded over and took a seat on the bed next to Frank’s growing pile of rags, inspecting the satchel of coins. 

“Paid me less than half of what he promised—the bastard. Going forward, we don’t trust the word of a drunk idiot from Leybrook.” 

“Understood.” Wren nodded in confirmation, turning back to face him. Her eyes twinkled with an emotion Frank couldn’t place. 

After a moment, Wren stood up and began throwing his soiled clothes into a sack of other laundry that needed to be washed. Exhausted, Frank collapsed on the bed. Underneath him, something crinkled. Afraid he’d broken something of Wren’s, he moved cautiously to see what it was, 

Sitting on the bed, mostly undamaged by his weight, was a bouquet of purple flowers wrapped in parchment. He’d been so preoccupied with frustration and disgust that he hadn’t noticed them until now.  

“Shit, I sat on your flowers.” He groused, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he held them out to her. 

“Oh that’s ok! They were for you, actually.” Still gathering clothes, Wren wasn’t looking at him. 

Frank couldn’t tell if she was serious. He pulled  the gathering of stems to himself, inspecting it. “For me? Why?”

“I saw them when I was foraging for Anna earlier today. They reminded me of you.” 

“How on earth can I remind you of a flower?” 

“Well,” She was looking at him through her lashes, clearly a little nervous about his reaction. “They’re Fragrant Orchids. They represent strength and resilience so, naturally, I thought of you.” 

With that, Wren moved on. She started rummaging through her pack for a meal, as if she hadn’t just turned Frank’s entire world on its head. 

“You don’t have to keep them.” She remarked. “Just thought they were nice is all.” 

“No, I—“ Frank’s throat felt swollen with an emotion he could’ve sworn he didn’t have the ability to feel anymore. He cleared it and started again. “They’re—they’re pretty, Wren.” 

“Really, I can take them back,” She stated, reaching out for the bundle. Frank’s hand drew the blossoms to his chest, instinctively. 

“No!” He yelped. Then, more than a little embarrassed by his outburst, he added, “I mean—if we get rid of them, you’ll be sad and I can’t handle that. I won’t be the reason for that.” Yah, sure, that sounded plausible—right?

“Ok, if you’re positive.” Giving a shrug, Wren fished out some dried meat and stale rolls from her bag, offering a portion to Frank. 

They ate in comfortable silence, but Frank kept stealing glances at the flowers, as if worried they’d burst into flames. 

After the daylight had disappeared, and they both had slept, Wren woke to see the flowers in a pot filled with water in front of their small window.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x oc #frank castle x female reader #frank castle #the punisher x reader #the punisher #marvel the punisher #jon bernthal #my writing #fc #splendid is the flower