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Fuck whatever DC is doing with the al Ghul's characterizations and story lines, I've decided that from now on the al Ghul's are gonna be DC's version of the Addams Family instead.
Now I don't mean just give the various al Ghul's the exact personalities of the various Addams and call it a day. That's boring, that erases all the interesting parts of the al Ghuls, that's just using "find & replace" and not actually adding anything. I mean give them the vibes of the Addams Family.
Keep the al Ghul's as the al Ghul's with all their scheming and machinations and world domination attempts but give them all the unhinged energy, the casually insane view of the world, the deranged levels of love and devotion for family. Make them that group where objectively they are batshit insane but also you cannot argue with the fact that they are indisputably the most stable and functional family in the entire universe.
They're creepy, they're kooky, they're mysterious and spooky. Ra's many opulent homes and impenetrable fortresses are a museum and the al Ghul's really are a screa-um whenever people come to see-um (or when they lay waste upon their enemies in a surprise attack that has been planned for months and is just the first domino in a series that will ultimately lead to achieving a far greater goal).
They all love each other and want each other to be happy, they express this primarily with stabbing and murder attempts (its fine, death is a thing that happens to other people).
And forget the League of Assassins being a cult. Just make the whole vast globe spanning organization a collection of cousins/aunts/uncles/dear old friends ect. No one (not even the al Ghuls, if they cared to keep track of such things) is sure who is actually related to them and who just got absorbed into the ever expanding family tree based on their vibes being right.
(Is Sensei Ra's father you ask? Well he's certainly someone's father - probably.
Anyway have you heard about Cousin Cheshire? Despicable poisoner of a young woman, capable of the most horrific things imaginable - yes she is the sweetest dear. Like I was saying though, she just had a baby!
Everyone in the family is just so excited to throw a baby shower to celebrate! Ubu has really gone all out with the spike traps, he does so love getting to welcome a new addition to the family.
Talia of course has cultivated a brand new strain of the most toxic plants imaginable to make a brand new kind of necrotizing poison. You know, as a nice little romantic gift for Cousin Cheshire and that young man of hers. It really is so important to make sure you take time for you and your partner to go on dates and have a few pitched battles to the death on dark rooftops in the pounding rain when you have children.
Now there is some to-do about it all of course, you know how family get together can be. Everyone is arguing over who should get to give little Lian her first weapon and what it should be. Nyssa is pushing for grenades but Ra's is insisting on a sword - he's traditional like that you know - but Dusan has the vote so far on throwing knives. You know the kind that have the little divots along the edges of the blades them to make it easier to get the poison you dip them in to stick.)
I'm just saying that the al Ghuls should be a delightful cross between the Bond Villains they were originally conceived as and the lovingly unhinged Addams Family. It just feels correct in my heart.
(Again keep the interesting aspects of the characters and the nuances of who each of them are like their drive to save the world through destroying humanity and their strong environmentalist leanings and their constantly playing 5D chess and everything, but like, take away the racism and the cartoonishly evil for no reason bullshit and give them some fun feral energy to go along with it).
The call connects and there’s Roy, seemingly back at his own house, seated on a grey couch and wearing a scowl dark enough to match his t-shirt and jacket.
Trent smiles, though carefully not too wide. “Hello Roy. Thank you for agreeing to this.”
Roy grunts. “Better you than any of the other wankers,” he mutters.
Trent makes an effort to hide his grin. Visibly gloating about having the sort of access to Roy Kent that other journalists – independent or disgraced or otherwise – can only dream of isn’t likely to get him the exclusive comments that he needs from Richmond’s head coach on today’s kerfuffle.
“So,” he offers smoothly, “what do you—“
He’s cut off by the loud bang of a door slamming shut on the other end and a startled fuck from Roy and then there’s Jamie Tartt’s head coming into view as it flops down on Roy’s lap. He must have thrown himself down onto the couch.
“It’s all such fucking bullshit, man,” Jamie pronounces dramatically as he – Trent’s eyebrows rise another inch – grabs Roy’s arm and pulls it over his chest, claiming half a cuddle. “Did you know—“
“I’m in the middle of an interview, you twat,” Roy barks, but he does not, Trent notes with increasing interest and incredulity, remove his arm.
“Since when do— ?” Lifting his head from Roy’s lap, Jamie blinks at the screen. “Oh! Uh. Hi, Trent! How you doin’, you good?” His grin is wide, easy, with no hint of embarrassment, and Trent finds himself smiling back. Jamie has always been charismatic, but the last few years have seen his swagger turn into a good-natured charm that’s surprisingly hard to resist.
“I’m fine, thank you, Jamie. And regarding the news this afternoon, how do you—“
“No,” Roy immediately says, shifting to push Jamie off his lap in spite of the younger man’s indignant protests. “He has no fucking comment. He’s not part of this conversation. He’s not even fucking here.”
“The fuck are you on about, mate, he can see I’m— “
“Go to the kitchen,” Roy interrupts. “Get me a whisky. If I have to listen to you complain about wankers on Twitter or split fingernails or whatever, I need a fucking drink.”
“You’re an arsehole,” Jamie tells him from out of the picture, but he doesn’t sound particularly upset. “I haven’t even got any split fingernails.” And then he must be off because he doesn’t say anything else and Roy turns back to Trent, glaring like he’s daring Trent to say it.
Trent, with equal parts cunning and self-preservation, says nothing at all. Waits.
Eventually, Roy’s shoulders drop a millimeter. He lets out a huff. “Jamie’s fucking needy, all right? He needs fucking hugs and shit and he turns into a moody bitch prima donna if he doesn’t get them, so.” He presses his lips together, having apparently said all he intends to say on the subject.
Trent had noticed Jamie’s fondness for hanging off anyone's and everyone’s shoulder during his season with the team. He hadn’t known and would never have imagined, though, that Roy would ever be willing to indulge the tendency, especially not to this degree. And that rather begs the question...
“Roy,” he says carefully. “You know that, if the two of you are—“
“We’re not.” And Roy closes his eyes, shakes his head. Opens them, looking resigned, but looking a little bit wry too. “Be less fucking weird if we were, wouldn’t it? But we’re not. It’s just… “ He pauses. Shakes his head again. “It’s Jamie. Just… fucking Jamie.”
“Except you are not,” Trent says, just to be clear, just because being a bit of an asshole is a habit, and fun.
“Except I’m not,” Roy growls, and looks like he’s about to add something more – something scatching and imaginatively insulting, Trent assumes – but then he lifts his head, turning towards someone offscreen. “What— ? Yeah, we’re fucking done. Bye, Crimm,” he adds, and then the screen goes dark as Roy abruptly ends the call.
“Bye, Roy,” Trent tells the silence. “I’ll just text you the questions, shall I? You can get back to me when you’re done giving Jamie Tartt a cuddle.”
the way the ericson group were at the outbreak just a bunch of troubled kids who made various mistakes or committed crimes and were judged by a system that punished and abandoned them instead of giving them the support and love they needed, are then nearly a decade later put into a situation where now they must judge a troubled child for the mistakes and crimes hes committed against them. and 5 to 3 vote them out 😭
looking back, even outside of the "you're a leader and that means you must be at your absolutely best at all times" it's no wonder ruby wouldn't feel comfortable talking about her problems etc. with others. especially looking at ruby and yang's relationship, like. there's only so many times someone can snap at you for you to grow wary / uncomfortable to go to them when you need help / want to ask them something, and you can kinda see this progression with ruby and yang; in 3.12 when ruby goes to talk to yang, yang cuts her short and is a bit snappy (understandably so, she's going through some stuff also), and ruby recoils a bit. in 5.8, yang responds to ruby's questions with sarcasm & then snaps at both ruby and weiss; later, yang expects it's ruby who's knocking at the door (and starts telling her she doesn't want to talk about it and wants to be left alone, just like she did in V3) but it's weiss instead, ruby only coming in later to ask, uncertainly, if everything's okay.
add to that the moments where yang doesn't quite get ruby—e.g. ditching her in the middle of the school courtyard on the first day, dragging her to talk to someone who's practically stranger, missing the mark in 8.11, "you don't mean that" in 9.6—and it's so painfully clear when, where and why ruby started feeling like yang wasn't the person she could go and talk to.
WARNING: FFVII spoilers + ship talk—scroll if you want to skip, because I am simply commentating my own gaming experience & not trying to start a war in the comments
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It’s the way I’m DESPERATELY trying to play FFVII with an openness to Cloud and Aerith because I know it means so much to so many people—and yet even when I go to YouTube and watch alt versions of mandatory scenes I cannot fathom how people are missing the subtext of “Aerith knows and acknowledges Tifa is so much more than Cloud’s friend even as she wants his attention because she doesn’t know if he’s really himself, has been extremely lonely since Zack left + knows somewhere she’s going to die for herself” ☠️
Like I am 3000% for FF ships that have a lot of groundwork but aren’t primary canon, because Square is notorious for building true chemistry between people who are not ever canonically romantic (hello Phoenixflare) but…it’s getting kind of absurd to see how many people are denying the subtext of Aerith as secondary to Tifa solely because they love their ship.
Perfect example: the scene where Aerith goes up on the Nebelheim water tower (a place wholly and entirely tied to Cloud and Tifa’s ongoing relatonship) and asks Cloud about his town…only for us to get this:
As someone who just consumes media generally…the whole subtext of the scene is clearly that Aerith trying to 1) pull Cloud’s actual memories up from the mind muck he’s going through (something she and Tifa both do repeatedly) and 2) remind Cloud of the side of him that inherently has always had a whole ass crush on his childhood best friend to help jog his memory.
Sure, it reads as a cute moment between them if you want that…but if you’re paying attention to the purpose of the scene itself and what’s being said (verbally and subtextually)…it’s astronomically clear this is a Cloud x Tifa recognition delivered to the audience through a Cloud/Aerith moment…and this happens repeatedly ☠️
And then…immediately after having her be upset that she doesn’t have someone the way Cloud has Tifa, and asking to be alone? I…I just. Like it’s so hard to be here in the middle of a war about “optional scenes” when shit that happens to everyone happens just like this 😭
Really truly want to date someone who is my complete opposite so bad, i love hearing about interests i would never have or concepts i would never study i love explaining my interests to people who don’t have any involvement in them i love the idea that with every conversation we get to learn something new about each other
im not sure what happened to me but suddenly i love queen ripple and she’s my new dress up doll
anyway, let’s talk about her!!
taking the fact that ribbon’s name is ribbon entirely too far (and going off their designs) i think it’d be cool if ripple star fashions leaned into frills, bows, and long or exaggerated silhouettes
since the planet is literally just a heart shape i imagine their aesthetics lean into that sort of romantic and elegant vibe. a lot of ivory, pinks, and reds
(ripple dresses up a little different to see her friends tho)
also flower and butterfly motifs. because they’re fairies of course <3
think it’d be a little ironic if butterflies were a symbol of beauty and all that…
also she’s friends with carol and dedede. they can go to pta meetings or something /j
(taranza can come sometimes too because he’s cool and it makes sense to me)
btw ripple star probably exports a lot of silks (because silkworms in a land of butterflies feels right) and luxury items whereas dreamland is more agriculture focused + maybe some livestock and furs
…yeah i’m saying these places reflect their rulers basically. ripple star can be a little more traditional and whatnot. that’s what makes ripple so endeared to her dreamland friends—they’re silly! and yeah, tragic princess angle, it’s my favorite trope—i think that would really pull at her heart
i won’t get into that right now, but i gotta imagine getting possessed gives you a lot to think about lol
…gah i have so many thoughts on this
there isn’t much to go off of in canon, sure, but i think there’s a lot of interesting directions something like that could go ^^
Here have some fluffy Jon/Damian/Elle (Super Serious Chaos? Super Serious Chaos) where Jon & Elle bully exhausted pre-vet college student Damian into taking a nap with the cruel application of cuddles on the couch:
Jon’s hand was wide and warm against his back as the Kryptonian absently swiped it along Damian’s spine. Meanwhile Elle was intent on gently dragging her nails along Damian’s scalp, fingers soft through his hair. Between the two of them, the soft couch they’d bullied him into getting when they moved into the apartment and the slant of sunlight they were currently all laying in, Damian didn’t have a chance.
He was supposed to be studying. He had an exam next week for his zoology course and it didn’t matter if he knew the information front to back, he was going to get a perfect grade. But then Jon had splayed out on their plush and over-sized couch with some documentary about scientists attempting to grow seeds discovered preserved in permafrost. And Elle had been pestering him about shrimp posture at his desk - he had perfect posture, thank you he was just making sure to get close enough to his study material, his back hurt because he had patrol last night, nothing else - so he’d allowed her to herd him over to study in the living room instead.
And it was a law of the universe that a Kryptonian wearing soft fleece Robin-themed pajamas basking in the sun was always going to be the most comfortable place for a Bat to perch. So he’d sat down beside his boyfriend - no he had not flopped, he’d simply allowed gravity to do the work for him, it was energy conservation, it was practical - and prepared to study as Elle took her own spot curled up sideways in Jon’s lap with her legs tossed over Damian’s. Sun-sleepy Kryptonian’s were an ideal landing place for ghosts with fire cores as well, obviously.
Somewhere along the line his significant others had conspired against him.
It was the only explanation for how his notes ended up tossed on the coffee table haphazardly while he laid face down across the couch in a nest of pillows with his head in Elle’s lap and Jon’s arm curling over his back, eyes drooping as he lost the battle with sleep. Titus, the traitor, had hopped up to lay against his legs, a heavy warm weight drawing him further and further down. Elle had started humming a song somewhere along the time she’d begun playing with his hair, and Jon was giving those low - near imperceptible - rumbling purrs he gave off when content as he traced patterns along Damian’s back.
This was pay back for staying out until five last night on patrol even though he had a class at seven-thirty. He’d told them he would be fine, he’d done far worse on far less sleep. Timothy routinely juggled a dozen or so projects at a time with just an hour or so of sleep ever few days and Damian was far more competent than him. That argument - for all his grumbled weak protests in the face of Jon and Elle’s unimpressed and worried expressions could be called an argument - had apparently not swayed them though. He was fairly certain Jon had texted the family group chat - Damian’s phone had been confiscated upon stumbling returning home from Gotham U on the grounds that he would end up running off to try and join in on one of the cases one of his siblings mentioned if he was allowed to keep it, again - to ban him from patrols for the rest of the week.
He’d have to get his revenge somehow. He couldn’t just let them run roughshod all over his life like that.
Maybe he could make some sù yā for dinner. Elle had picked up fresh bamboo shoots along with some other stuff on her last portal hop when she’d found herself in Guangzhou. And Jon’s grandparents had passed along some carrots and ginger from the farm that they needed to use.
Last time he’d made the dish Jon had almost cried and Elle had glowed so brightly it had looked like the sun had taken up residence in their dining room. The two had nearly set the apartment on fire fighting over the last piece. Their shrieks of despair when they realized Damian had eaten it while they were tussling had been more satisfying than every victory over every enemy he’d ever faced combined.
Yes. A fine vengeance indeed.
But…later. After he’d lulled them into a false sense of security. Let them think they had the upper hand and strike when they least expected it. It wasn’t that he was falling asleep. No. It was tactical. And had nothing at all to do with the surge of affection and warmth and security that came with having them so close, doting on him. He was tactically allowing himself to appear vulnerable. Nuzzling closer and tightening his hold on them where he’d wrapped his arms around the two was a ruse.
Jon squeezed back, tight enough to press the air out of Damian’s lungs and sooth away some of the latent anxiety over his upcoming test. Elle swiped a lock of hair that’d fallen into his eyes away, palm curling around his cheek and thumb softly stroking along his temple. On the TV scientists droned on about soil composition and growth rates of similar modern plants. Titus gave one of those low grumbling whines that meant he’d fallen asleep where he was curled up against Damian’s legs and was happily dreaming.
Damian allowed his eyes to close. Content to drift to sleep in the arms of the two menaces he loved most in the world.
First of all, LOVE YOUR BLOG!!Your writing is so good!! May I request Rodolfo Parra x reader who is touchy? Like, they won’t if he doesn’t like it, but it’s a safety thing, like him being taller than me (even not by much) makes me secure, feeling his arm muscles to know he can protect me, holding his hand until he pulls away.
thank you!! :3
I don't think you understand the extent to which my Rodolfo is touch starved, he really wants a hug, and the ones that Alejandro give him don't really cut it, at all! Mans wants to be hugged and cuddled, so this is sort of just ideal to him!
Rodolfo with a Touchy!Reader
In all honesty, he’s hit the jackpot with you if you’re a touchy person. While he may not initiate too much physical touch himself in fear of coming off as clingy and annoying, he’s actually so touch starved, it’s unreal. If there weren’t some mental barriers there, then he’d absolutely love to touch and cuddle you whenever he could. Would love to kiss you, would love to hold you. He’s one of the biggest cuddlebugs on the planet in theory, but in practice he’s holding himself back due to the aforementioned reasons. However, he has no qualms whatsoever if you’re the one touching him, in fact, he’ll revel in it for as long as he can, or until you pull away. He gets a bit sad when you do, but he knows you’ve got better things to do as well from time to time.
Please do hold onto his arm when you’re walking somewhere, it makes him feel like the stronger guy out of the two of you. He just wants to make sure you feel safe and sound with him, and if he can accomplish just that? Heaven on earth, literally. Hold his hand, he’ll squeeze it every once in a while to make sure you know he’s still with you. You can even give him a hug in public where everyone can see you, he’ll shield you with his entire body and make sure to catch every single bullet that could come flying at you. While he’s not too big of a fan of kissing in public, thinking such a thing should be reserved for when the two of you are alone, he loves feeling your lips on him just about anywhere. Wanna kiss his cheek? His forehead? His lips? He’ll give you twice as many kisses back.
From time to time he might get a bit overwhelmed with all the affection, that’s when you might want to tone it down a bit. When he’s just downright pissed at someone or something, he’s less prone to being cuddly, but he’ll calm down eventually. Distract him, help him, give him some loving words, and he’ll be back to his usual self. Once he’s calmed down he might be a bit tired from all those emotions, so he might want some cuddles. Likely won’t ask for them, but he knows you’re always eager to cuddle him anyway.
While he does love holding something, or someone, when relaxing, nothing, to him, feels better than being held. That’s his guilty pleasure, being the little spoon, but you won’t catch him dead admitting that. In fact, he won’t even hint at wanting to be such, but he would absolutely never turn you down when you offer. Feeling your warmth against his back is nice, doesn’t matter if you can wrap yourself around him entirely or if you’re a backpack, he just wants to feel protected for once too. However, if something ever were to happen, then he’s the first to jump into action and beat the living daylights out of anyone who dares to intrude on such a sacred moment.
Hell, you can even put your head in his lap. He’ll lovingly stroke your back or your head, looking completely lovestruck at you. It’s a major sign of trust for him, especially when you’re slowly dozing off. Won’t move an inch if you do and will just continue to pat your hair, staring at you instead of the tv monitor. If you want, you can also adjust him so his head is in your lap instead, he would never say no to that either. In fact, if he’s comfortable enough, he might nuzzle into your hand, realize what he’s doing and get a bit embarrassed. He usually feels the need to be the big, strong man in your relationship, that he really shouldn’t be showing so much weakness, but how could he resist your tender, gentle touch when it’s right there? Showing you a glimpse of how touch starved he is is just about one of the most mortifying things out there, but he can’t help it. It simply feels so good.
He absolutely adores the fact he can make you feel safe. Again, he won’t really initiate much physical contact himself, but he will stand fairly close to you so you may, if you feel like it, just grab his hand and swing it around a bit as you’re walking around. You can lean into him, there’s a chance he might wrap an arm around you to make sure you won’t fall over. He loves that he can be your support system in a way that makes him happy as well. You get to touch him, he gets to be touched, it’s the most perfect symbiotic relationship out there.
At the end of the day, you both get to feel safe and sound with one another, because of your presence and because of your love. You protect each other and make sure the other is thriving, what thing in this world could possibly be more pure than that?