SUMMARY: The thing about Klaus Hargeeves and the titles he had was that, for all the bad and bloodied ones he’d accumulated over his weirdly-long-but-should-have-been-shorter lifetime– nothing hurt more than becoming a stranger. PAIRINGS: Klaus x Reader (Platonic), Sparrow!Reader x Sparrow!Ben (Romance), Past!Reader x Umbrella!Ben (Romance), Klaus x Reader x Ben TAGS/WARNINGS: angst ; romance
Klaus Hargeeves had accumulated more than his fair share of titles over the course of his weirdly-long-but-should-have-been-shorter lifetime.
Before the first Apocalypse, he’d been Klaus: Number Four. The Séance. Family fuck-up and resident weirdo.
When he’d ended up smack-dab in the middle of the Vietnam war, the list only grew from there: Private Hargreeves. Soldier. Murderer.
The titles were no less bloody than his first few, and maybe if he’d saved Dave the additions might’ve been an easier pill to swallow.
But Klaus lost Dave anyway and though he wasn’t into the swallowing business nowadays (of pills, that is), the dog tags he wore beneath his torn shirt were a bitter reminder that death and misery would follow him always.
Even after leaving The Umbrella Academy.
When he and his family failed to save the world the first time (which, according to a very snappish Five, was not technically the first time; very tensed up man-child, mind you)–Klaus, as always, did what he did best.
He accepted the cards he’d been dealt with, and he settled.
And for the most part, things were okay. Delightful, even.
Amongst his Cult, he’d been a Messiah. God.
As if God wasn’t already fucked up for putting him through all the shit he’d been through, Klaus accepted the monicker with a grain of salt and revelled in the false sense of security it gave him.
So long as he was God, nothing would touch him or his people.
Because, for all that Klaus was unlucky, for all that he was unfortunate when it came to too-bloody-titles and titles that were false in every way, somehow he’d ended up in 1960 with not only Ben, but with you, too.
From 1960 to 1962, the years you shared together–you, consoling him first after an argument with Ben before astral projecting yourself between worlds to coax your boyfriend back; Ben, always disagreeing with anything to do with Destiny’s Children until you’d concede sweetly in turn; and him, teasing Ben mercilessly for making him a third-wheel but purposely making him more tangible so his love-struck brother could rest his head above your heart–reminded Klaus of the only good titles he had alongside his name.
To the world (old and new), Klaus Hargreeves was known as many things. Weird things. Bloody things. But to Ben, his Benirrino, Klaus was his brother.
He could be overwhelming to a fault, he knew, but Ben–angry, bitter and emo Benny boy– loved him all the same. And Klaus would’ve died a happy bastard knowing he had at least one sibling with him 60 years in the past.
With you, [N/N], Klaus didn’t quite know why you’d stuck with him after Ben had died in the original timeline. Until the epiphany came to him between nights you sought each other to grieve and days you went looking for a new high that he’d never had a best-friend before.
He might’ve been responsible for half the stress you were constantly under, but you had accepted him anyways and always in the ways that mattered and for that, Klaus would make do with a sappy Ben if it meant having you there with him, too.
After two glorious years of just being Ben’s playful brother and [Y/N]’s chaotic best-friend, Klaus thought he could well and truly live if he only ever had to answer to these two titles.
And then, Five re-appeared.
The rest of his family, too.
And suddenly, the world was back on a timer.
Klaus had to be Number Four again. Had to be The Séance, the Soldier.
If they wanted an edge over the Temps Time Commission, he had to bring out the whole shabam and play into everything Daddy-dearest ever wanted of him in order to do anything and return to a timeline where he was all these shitty titles (some shameful, some not) and then some.
And while he could’ve done it, could’ve accepted the bitter reality-check like the good little Solider that he was–it became a little harder for Klaus to just settle with the cards he’d been dealt with when Ben dies saving Viktor.
It becomes even worse when, just as the two of you are almost out, almost back-in-your-original timeline, you decide to shield Allison during a barrage of gunfire.
Klaus had seen you first amidst the chaos–eyes wide, hands trembling–and had cheered in a moment of drunken stupor before Five called your name. Had called for you as though he couldn’t see you even though you were standing right there…
He barely manages to process what’s happened and the fact he’s lost his brother and best-friend all in one sweep (He sees Dave in the distance, and blood roars in his ears) before Viktor’s at his side, gently holding onto his hand with the echo of grief in his eyes as Five opens the briefcase.
The last image he sees of 1962 is the small, sad, smile of your apparition as he falls forward in time and into a world that spits at everything he ever was.
Because there, in 2019, is Ben.
Alive. Breathing. Whole.
“Dad, who are these assholes?” his brother’s voice echoes through the long room, Klaus’ stomach lurching as Ben considers them without a hint of recognition.
His heart swells and the breaks again because with that question, his brother dies again.
“Come on Ben, play nice…” To the collective surprise and horror mounting amongst his family, your gentle voice cuts through the air as you step out from behind his brother to place a hand on his shoulder.
Flushed and lively despite being dead only a few moments prior–he’s not the only one disoriented seeing you in front of them.
“But he does have a point,” you continue onward, uncaring of the sharp breath Allison takes (your blood is still splattered on her face) or the way Diego’s eyes dart between you and Ben; side by side, even in another life.
“Who are you and why are you here?”
To understand how everyone feels about shen yuan you have to think of him as a beloved neighbourhood cat. Everyone loves him. If you can get him to sit next to you for a few minutes, you have the right to tell everyone around while they glare at you in jealousy. If he scratches someone, everyone will agree they must have done something wrong to deserve that, because our cat is so sweet and lovely. If you say you don't like him, everyone hates you because what sick fuck doesn't like cute cats?
So you can imagine when someone (binghe) takes the cat that should belong to everyone and decides its going to be HIS own now. The entire neighbourhood would be up in arms. Shen Yuan is EVERYONES cat and they demand he's let back out so they can occasionally get ten seconds to pet it.
But then something terrible happens: the cat decides it likes binghe and wants to stay inside his house. Even when everyone holds the door wide open and tries to lure him out with treats, he ignores it and jumps onto binghes lap. Everyone is devastated. Their cat CHOSE to be with the guy who stole him away from them.
There's nothing they can do other than randomly barge into the cats new home every now and then, pathetically hoping for a bit of his attention while annoying the cats new owner.
That's shen yuan.
i’ve never made a request before so sorry if this is bad but if you could write something about matt murdock with a fake dating trope like that would be so cute, especially if there’s feelings realized during/after it :)
a/n: i swear, i tried to just keep this short and sweet like how i usually keep requests, but then the fantasy i came up with was just too fun and too much like a fucking romcom not to just let myself go ham and turn it into a full-on long fic
word count: 3778
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Leaning your weight against the bar, you waited for Josie to return with another round of beers for you and your friends, who still remained exactly where you’d left them, all clustered around the pool table further into the space.
Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the ring so often glued to your fingers, passing the heirloom from each digit and sliding it onto the next. It had been your grandmother’s, and ever since her passing, the simple golden circle with a little jade embedded at the cusp of it, rarely stayed in your jewellery box as the act of simply glancing down at it on your finger somehow offered you a drop of comfort in moments of mundane gloom.
As the heirloom arrived at your left ring finger and slid down over the knuckle, a familiar voice suddenly emanated like an echo after the bar’s front door had swung open.
“Y/n?” your whole body froze up at the unexpected timbre.
Slowly, you twisted around to discover none other than your ex, wide eyes trained on you as he clutched the hand of a leggy blonde.
“Henry!” you gasped, hoping they mistook the horrified look on your face for innocent shock, “oh my god…”
Without any warning, the next thing you knew, he’d yanked your stunned form into a hug, “how the hell are you?” he clapped your shoulder as if you were old school chums, “it’s been so long.”
“I’m–, uhm, fine,” you managed to reply.
“Yeah?” he smiled, the insincerity in your tone completely flying over his head, “that’s great.”
Simply to be polite, you awkwardly asked, “…how are you?” even though you truly didn’t wish to know the answer.
“I’m good, yeah, life’s been kinda crazy lately because–, oh,” he suddenly paused to glance back at the girl by his side, “Y/n, you remember Rebecca, right?”
“Mhm,” you hummed and offered her a glance, fearing steam might billow out of your ears at any moment, “hi.”
“Hey,” she smiled brightly as she tossed her luscious locks over her shoulder, “and please don’t mind him,” she clapped a palm over Henry’s chest, “he’s just freaking out, you know, usual guy stuff before finally getting tied down.”
“I’m sorry,” you blinked, nearly pinching yourself to test if this was a nightmare or not, “before what?”
Rebecca then held up her left hand to flash you the massive rock nestled on her fourth finger.
“I finally popped the question!” Henry grinned and draped an arm around his fiancé.
“Wow, oh wow, that’s–…” you sputtered as the blonde promptly shoved her hand in your face for you to get a better look, “that’s a really big rock, right there, on your finger…” your touch floated up and tilted her palm slightly, the light from the neon sign close by glinting in the diamond, “congratulations…”
“Thanks!” she smiled down at the ring herself before her fingers suddenly captured your own and twisted your hand around, “oh wait, congrats to you too!”
“What?” you still simply tried to keep breathing through this agonising gut-punch of an encounter.
“I know they say that size doesn’t matter,” Rebecca eyed the tiny green stone that adorned your grandmother’s ring, “and it doesn’t! I mean, that’s so pretty,” she uttered in a sugary sweet and insincere tone that made you feel as if you were back in high school again, “understated, simple.”
“Ah, no way,” Henry peeked down at your hand, “you’re engaged too?”
“Uh…” you let out a shaky breath, “yep,” the lie then suddenly flew out past your lips before you had a chance to stop it, “that’s me! I’m getting married.”
“That’s amazing,” your ex let out an airy chuckle, “who’s the lucky guy?”
But before your lips could part and let out another lie, Josie returned, “here you go, hon,” and slid four beer bottles across the bar to you before adding, “and would you tell Foggy to stop sitting on the edge of the pool table? It’s old and I can’t be responsible if it breaks on him.”
“Sure thing,” you promised and snatched up the drinks.
“Is that your man?” Henry cast a glance to the lawyer Josie had gestured to, “Foggy, was it?”
“Foggy?” a soft giggle couldn’t help but bubble out of your lungs, “no! Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but no, sadly, he’s already taken.”
“Then who is it?”
“Is it the other guy over there?” Rebecca chimed in as they both sent their glances towards your friends, “the one in the light blue shirt and tinted glasses?”
“Uh, yeah…” you squeaked as you slowly turned to look at Matt as well, “that’s–, uh, that’s him,” you watched as he readjusted his grip on the cue stick in his hand, “that’s my future husband…”
“Hm,” a sliver of judgment slipped out of Henry, “wouldn’t have pegged him to be your type.”
“Well, maybe my type has changed,” you stated, letting your lingering resentment show before you noticed how harsh it had come out and your stomach immediately began to twist and knot in regret, “I–…” you swiftly winched, “sorry,” and averted your gaze, “have a nice evening, uh–, I’m gonna go back to my friends,” you stumbled as you tried to escape.
Though as you turned to walk away, Henry’s voice found your ears one last time, “bye!” before you heard his fiancé turn to him.
“Pookie? Would you order me a cosmo?” her voice began to fade into the background, “I’ll go find us a table…”
You simultaneously felt as if a truck had just run you over as your feet carried you back towards your friends, yet also completely numb, as if you’d been turned into a floating ghost of the person you used to be.
“Who the hell was that and why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Foggy asked cautiously as he grabbed two of the bottles in your grasp and handed one off to Matt.
Passing one of the remaining drinks off to Karen, you then lifted your own up to your lips before tipping it back and downing around half of its contents. Once you tilted the dark green bottle back down, you were out of breath as you began to explain, “that,” you wiped your bottom lip with one of your knuckles, “was my ex,” you used that same finger to hazily point back over your shoulder, “and his fiancé,” your eyes stayed fuzzy as you added, “who happen to be the girl that he cheated on me with for a year before I one day finally caught them together.”
“Oh my god…” Karen breathed, her bottle frozen halfway on its journey up towards her lips.
“It was on easter,” you shared, “he thought I had gone back home to see my family, but I’d actually decided to secretly do this whole big surprise, like I thought I was in fucking rom-com or something,” you sighed at your past self, “but then when he got home from work, and I was all decked out, waiting on the bed, in bunny ears and everything,” you heatedly gestured to the top of your own head, “he wasn’t alone.”
“Wow…” Foggy stared.
“Yep…” you exhaled heavily, taking another swig before you made the mistake of glancing back over your shoulder just as Rebecca shrugged off her coat and slinked onto a stool at one of the small tables, “fuck!” you exclaimed as if you’d just stubbed your toe, “she’s even hotter than I remembered. How is that possible?”
“Oh, she’s not that pretty,” Karen tried, but you swiftly cut her off.
“You shut your face, she’s basically a human-sized Barbie,” your glare roamed one last time from the top of her platinum locks to the bottoms of her high stilettos, “god…” you sighed as you finally averted your gaze and lifted your bottle to drown your sorrows, “I was such an idiot back there. It was like my brain just stopped working and–, oh my god!” your palm shot up to cover your mouth as you then suddenly recalled the lie that had slipped out. Slowly, your wide eyes drifted to Matt, who still remained silent, “oh no…”
“What is it?” Foggy chimed in.
“Matt…” you uttered tensely, knowing your friend well enough to be aware of just how much of the interaction with your ex he had overheard, “I am so sorry…”
“What?” Karen’s glance darted between you both, “what’s going on?”
Paralysing embarrassment churned your stomach and choked out any attempt you made to share the truth. But luckily, as your erratic heartbeat thumped and found Matt’s sharp ears, he eventually filled in instead, “…they thought that she was engaged as well and then assumed that I was the guy.”
“I am so, so sorry,” you gasped, “I don’t know why I didn’t correct them.”
But to your amazement, Matthew simply shrugged and offered you a reassuring smile, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“I was just fiddling with my ring and then they just–…” you then snuffed out your frantic explanation and instead repeated once again, “I’m sorry…”
Saddling up beside you, Karen planted a palm on your shoulder, “hey, if that was my ex, then I’d wanna give him some of his own medicine as well,” she stated, “if not just straight up cut off his balls, which is what he really deserves.”
A faint smile then began to soften your expression as you glanced around at your supportive friends, Foggy briefly reaching out to pat your other shoulder.
But as you averted your eyes to the nearly empty bottle in your grasp, a thought suddenly struck you like a bolt of lightning, “wait, I have an idea…” your gaze slowly lifted to lock on Matt, “I mean, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I totally get it, but would you mind, just while they are here, to–, uhm…”
Cocking his eyebrow, he finished your sentence, “…to pretend to be your fiancé?”
“I know, it’s stupid, and I should probably just go home right now instead of playing some weird and immature game of revenge or whatever,” you uttered as you made the decision to lie in the grave you’d dug for yourself, “but I would forever be in your debt, I'm serious.”
Sucking in a breath, he barely had to think about it before he murmured, “sure.”
“Really?” you gasped, your brows shooting up, “you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, why not?” Matt shrugged, “it’s the very least he deserves for treating you like that.”
“Oh,” you crossed the short distance between you two and threw your arms around him. It took a second before you felt him hug you back, but when the alcohol got to your head and made you mutter, “I love you,” into his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbled in the lawyer's chest before you parted ways.
“So,” Karen then began to fish out the colourful spheres and roll them back into the green felt, “do we still wanna play another game?”
“Hell yeah,” Foggy picked a cue stick back up before adding a playful threat, “you’re not beating me again this time, Page.”
Once the table was set up for another round of pool and you were a few turns in, your gaze couldn’t help but wander back towards the other end of the bar too often to keep track of. Though, soon on one of the fleeting looks, your eyes grew wide as you discovered you weren’t the only one sneaking glances.
Discreetly, you shifted closer to Matthew and leaned in to whisper, “he’s looking over,” however, when he then draped an arm around your frame, you couldn’t help but stiffen up, as you hadn’t thought that far in the plan yet, “what are you–”
“Shh,” Matt hushed your squeak, “just lean into me,” he shifted to stand tall behind you, arms enveloped around your form as he slowly drew you back against his chest, “smile,” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear and caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin, “and don’t look at him.”
Redirecting your vision back towards the game before you, you narrowly managed to catch sight of the silent slut-shaming the other lawyer flashed his friend with but a glance, before he went back to the mischievous mission he was on.
“Foggy, would you quit it?” Karen grumbled at the man beside her as he wildly waved both of his hands in her periphery, successfully knocking off her concentration as she tried to line up her shot.
“No way,” he kept up his flapping, even causing Karen’s golden locks to get picked up by the breeze he produced.
“You’re cheating.”
“Nope, I am not touching you nor the table,” he stated as if he was in court, “distracting you doesn’t break any rules.”
And as she finally made her attempt, the ball didn’t go in, causing her to explode in a roar, “damn it, Fog!”
“Ha, ha, yes!” he jumped as she straightened back up, “you know, I taste something right now, what could that be? Oh yeah, victory. And it tastes sweet as candy store.”
“Urgh,” Karen rolled her eyes at him before her glare landed upon the both of you, “Matt, your turn. Would you please set him in his place?”
“Gladly,” Matt chuckled, and as he shifted closer to the pool table, he nudged your side and asked, “hey, would you give me a hand?”
Swallowing a chuckle as you already knew he very much didn’t need it, you cocked an eyebrow, “you want my help?”
“Yeah,” he uttered clearly and let his real message seep through his tone, guiding your gaze to flicker back toward Henry, who’s stare was still locked upon you both, “so come help me.”
“Oh!” it finally clicked in your brain, “right,” and you swiftly slid in beside him.
With bated breath, you grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t clutching the pole, and guided it over the ivory ball that rested close to one of the corners. As you began to map out and tell him where each of the other spheres were, your eyes flicked over to notice just how close you now stood, as your nose nearly grazed against his stubbly cheek as you murmured guidingly. When you retracted your touch, you barely noticed how a few of Matt’s fingers reacted, faintly following your fading palm for but a second before it floated back down to the white orb below it.
Once he’d made his shot, you lingered in the proximity and whispered, “do you think they’re buying it?”
“Hm?”
“This,” your eyes momentarily flickered back towards your ex across the bar, “us.”
Matthew’s brows then floated up as you reeled him back in to the matter at hand, “oh, I–, probably.”
“Or should we do something else?” your mind kept on spinning, “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve completely forgotten how all of that works,” you shared, “kinda just numbed and cut off that part of myself after he broke my heart, it was just how I had to get through it, shut down a little bit because suddenly romance was terrifying…”
“...can I ask you something?” he asked quietly after a breath, and when you offered him a hum in confirmation, he uttered, “are you still in love with him?”
Time stretched out before you finally replied, “I was, for a very long time…” your voice stayed small, “…but no, not anymore… I kind of thought I was, but then seeing him again cleared it all up. All I feel when I look at him now is rage,” you exhaled, “and pity, just because I know him too well, know everything that’s messed up about him…” silence encumbered you both for a moment before you then opened your mouth once more and said, “so, should we hold hands or something?” you asked plainly, though when a genuine laugh then began to billow out of Matthew, your eyes blinked up at him as your brows swiftly knit together, “what?”
“You know,” he tried to snuff out his chuckle, “if I was actually your fiancé, I wouldn’t just stand around and hold your hand all night,” he then leaned in the short distance till his lips nearly tickled the shell of your ear, “I would have dragged you into the bathroom by now and forced the whole bar to hear us fuck.”
“I–, u-uhm,” you flusteredly stammered as your face began to heat up, “y-yeah, yeah, that’s good too,” you barely registered your own words as they slipped out past your lips, “if that’s what you wanna do–, I mean! Shut up!” you squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you regained your own senses, “just hold my hand, you dick,” you cursed over his laughter as he swiftly slipped his palm into your own.
“Cut it out, Karen,” Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and caught your attention.
Glancing over, you spotted as Karen was giving him some of his own medicine, pettily leaning into his eye line, “what? You were the one saying that distractions weren’t against the rules,” she continued to glare in hopes of throwing him off his game, “why? Is this not working? Do you need me to scream directly in your ear instead?”
“Oh, would you?” he sarcastically looked to her, his pitch climbing up high at his words, “going deaf in one ear is exactly what I need to beat you.”
As your wandering gaze then flickered back towards the opposite end of the bar, your eyes grew wide as you spotted only Rebecca still seated at the small table, pink cocktail in her grasp.
“Shit,” you spotted Henry as he crossed the room, confidently walking precisely in your direction, “he’s coming over,” you hissed, and in your muppet-like panic, your hands clasped each side of Matt’s face and yanked him in for a kiss.
At first, he froze up as you continued to freak out, but then, as his broad palms slowly slid over your waist, all of your alarm began to melt away. It felt as if you were drifting off to sleep as you relaxed into the kiss. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that kissing Matt would feel like this, not that such a fantasy was something you pondered often or even at all, but as you felt his tongue flicker out to dance softly against your own, your knees beneath you wobbled as you lost yourself completely. How long the peck drew out remained a mystery, as when you eventually parted, the reasoning behind it wouldn’t emerge in your memory no matter how hard you tried.
Though as you stood there, blinking back at Matt, still utterly spellbound by the unexpected feelings currently bubbling and bursting inside of you, the man now standing off to the side cleared his throat and brought you back down to earth.
“Bunny–, I mean, Y/n,” you whipped your head around to catch sight of your ex, “just thought it would have been awkward if I didn’t come over here to introduce myself before me and Becca took off,” he muttered before his gaze fell to Matt, his arms slowly fading from your form, “I'm Henry, nice to meet you,” your ex then offered his hand, though the lawyer by your side didn’t grasp it, even if his heightened senses had lent him to pick up on the gesture.
“Matt Murdock,” he uttered on a cold exhale.
Stuffing his rejected palm into his pocket, Henry then asked, “what do you do?”
“Matthew’s a lawyer,” you took over, slotting yourself into Matt’s side before you dramatically clasped a hand over his chest, “saves people for a living. That’s actually why we’re out celebrating tonight, he just won yet another case.”
“Oh, well congratulations then,” Henry offered in well-forged petty politeness.
“Yeah, I was there, watching him do his thing,” you uttered as some bitter goblin of resentment then took over your soul and caused you to say, “and oh boy, I tell you, if only it would have been socially acceptable for me to interrupt the trial just to rip his clothes off, because wow.”
A scoff then rippled in Henry’s chest, “okay, sure,” his stare upon you narrowed as he then grumbled, “we both know you’re not exactly the groupie type of girlfriend.”
“Well, maybe your sorry ass was never worth her supporting you in that way,” Matt suddenly cut in, “maybe because you never bothered treated her that way in return,” his guess hit the bullseye, “and maybe that has a little something to do with why I was the one to put a ring on her finger and not you,” your heart thumped in your chest as Matt’s touch returned to the small of your back, protectively sliding over your waist as he continued to speak in a low and chillingly stern tone, “that or you really are as terrible of a lay as she told me you were, during those very first nights when she finally learned what it was like to be with someone who wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.”
Utterly stunned, you watched Henry’s expression as he scrambled his brain for a way to crawl back from that, but eventually, when no suitable words came to his pea-sized brain, his feet slowly began to shuffle back till his hand had snatched up his fiancé’s and he’d yanked her with him out of the bar.
As the door swung closed behind the pair, a celebratory squeal burst from your lungs, “oh my god! Matt, that was incredible!” you jumped in place before throwing your arms around him, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Tangling his own arms around you, he uttered, “I’m sure we’ll come up with some way you can make it up to me.”
And as you withdrew, just enough to smile back at him, your gaze began to drift back down towards his lip just before Foggy’s voice cut through the palpable tension.
“Do I need to remind you guys that you’re not actually engaged?”
“No,” Matt then murmured as the two of you parted ways, quietly enough for his words to be completely inaudible, “but we could be...”
“What?” you glanced over at him.
“What?” he echoed in return, though a bit too quickly.
“Did you say something?”
“Me? No,” he tried to conceal his lie with a cough, “I-I, uh, think it’s your turn,” he then changed the subject, gesturing to the pool table behind you.
© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble
The idea that "Hannibal has to compromise on his victim pool for Will to be ok with eloping with him post fall" falls apart when you realise that Will is drawn to Hannibal regardless of his cruelty. Will watches Hannibal kill Abigail right in front of his eyes and still chooses not to sever ties. He chases after him in Europe, genuinely tells him "I forgive you." Will understands Hannibal's nature... He understands that he feels unbelievably compelled by Hannibal whilst knowing he is who he is — a sadist who tortures people into their deaths, someone who fucked up Will's head and framed him for murder for the lols — and Will still feels compassion for him; this is the kind of creature Hannibal is, and he is also mind-numbingly complex and incredibly attractive to Will. The conflict is not that Will has to be okay with Hannibal killing 'innocents', it's that Will has to look in the mirror and be able to accept a version of himself who has also murdered people, directly or indirectly. Hunting killers, being in their heads, Will understands intimately the difference between a killer and a non-killer. For so long his fear has been that he will fall off the metaphotical cliff and be seduced by the nature of murder. Those intrusive thoughs he has tried very hard to keep at bay, and now that he has killed Dolarhyde, it will be immensely difficult for him to reconcile with that version of himself. Post-fall, the conflict should be Will's cognitive dissonance, and not whether or not he can bend Hannibal's behaviour.
do yall ever think about how during the punishment protocol, sqq’s terrified thought toward lbg wasn’t just ‘don’t do this,’ but ‘not with that face’
Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.
Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.
I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.
All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!
Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.
Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?
Shen Yuan: what do you mean?
Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?
Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*
Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...
Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?
Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???
Shen Yuan: don't make it weird
Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???
Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating
Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--
Shen Yuan: hey
Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--
Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!
Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--
Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking
Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!
Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--
Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince
Shen Yuan: *mumbling*
Shang Qinghua: what was that?
Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...
Shang Qinghua: oh my god
Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!
Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*
in film class last year they taught us that when shooting dialogue you show connections by putting the back of someone in the shot or smth i don’t really remember BUT
in the “I’m trapped” scene when Neil is telling Mr Keating about how his dad won’t let him act it shows Mr K, therefore showing that Neil feels like Mr Keating really understands
but right after Me Keating says that Neil should tell his father it no longer shows them together in the shot because Neil feels alone again, because he realizes that Mr K doesn’t fully understand his plight
so now I’m crying
thank you for coming to my Ted talk
imagine an au where shen yuan transmigrates into a blank slate npc with very little system involvement, traveling around for a while until he's found by yue qingyuan and taken back to the sect because apparently shen qingqiu went missing around his transmigration period and shen yuan looks exactly like him, so it must be him, but then a few weeks later when he's just settled in on the peak and accepted his fate the real shen qingqiu shows up who was just on vacation and everyone forgot.
now there are two shen qingqiu's, one of whom is the real one and the other an amnesiac they gaslighted into believing he is shen qingqiu.
anyway—shen qingqiu has a new didi now!
Mayhaps you've already taken a shot at answering this. Why do you think people in fandom get Dick Grayson so wrong?
to be totally honest i don’t know? like, i’d say a significant part of it is because the two icebreaker comics people seem to read when they’re getting into dc are red robin and under the red hood.
rr2009 is about a complex grief spiral that challenges dick and tims relationship before they ultimately reconcile, but if ur not interested w engaging w the story it’s very easy to villianise dick (and damian) for tim whump.
utrh also relies on a lot of context from other comics at the time, and i think a lot of people conflate bruce’s actions to dick, particularly with the movie, to make jason the victim rather than actually considering the actions he takes. idk. we fear complexity, ig
it’s weird because many of dicks most important and foundational traits — community, his relationships with his neighbours, his status as a big brother and mentor to young heroes, his kindness, his abrasive but ultimately loving relationship w bruce, his propensity to pick arguments, and his role as a beacon of light in gotham — evidently are popular because they’re consistently lifted to give to other characters. in return, dick is flattened to either an absolute enabling asshole or a total idiot with no friends who can’t even defend himself. it sucks
even in regards to angst…. a lot of what people write fic about has happened to dick rather than other characters. in modern canon he was fired during an argument with bruce. he was homeless and isolated during the latter half of grayson’s 96 run. he’s consistently hurt by bruce and his other family members when they throw hands at him outside of combat. like…… *smacks him* this bad boy can fit every fanon trope in him np
itd be nice for people to engage more with his character, but same with damian or cass it would require that other characters not be trapped in permanent victimhood or actually meet dick on his level. dick is the most emotionally intelligent person in that family and uses his powers to say the most heinous things imaginable. he’s the second best detective. after cass he’s probably the most dangerous physical combatant. he doesn’t need tim drake to show him how to reset his wifi password
Arina - 20s - She/Her - Pan - Honestly just random reposts - Fandoms - Hannibal, The Umbrella Academy, DC, X-Men, Doctor Who, Kpop, Random Manhwas
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