if vat7k wasn’t a musical, hugo would be a way worse singer than he is, i feel.
not even for humorous purposes. just because he’s had a pretty sad life and he never got many opportunities to practice. when he did have alone time, i doubt those were lighthearted enough for him to even consider working on something like singing.
Batman Chronicles 18 Cass seeing Bruce and Leslie, seeing her as Bruce's mother. Bruce admitting she's probably the closest thing he's had for most of his life. The way the Leslie and Bruce's dynamic foils Bruce and Cass's. Three generations of a family trying to help the world and the people around them, all carrying a very different relationship with violence. So much unexplored potential in that one issue.
Since Maiev is described as looking “thin and ragged” and being “covered in scars” after her time imprisoned in Black Rook Hold, I wonder if it was startling to Illidan to see her like that upon returning, considering his last memory of her (and in general) was when she killed him. Obviously her Wardens and family have seen her when she’s injured or weakened but as Illidan’s her adversary, he’s only ever seen her when she was at her strongest.
I kinda find it funny how the MC in Magic Awakened [so far] is just watching their friends go through / relive / confront their trauma and family drama in the main storyline.
And each arc takes place in the span of a year which means every year, MC is just getting dragged through hell and back trying to maintain their grades while also witnessing at least one person in their friend group crash out for the majority of the semester
For the lovely anon who sent me an ask that got promptly deleted on accident. They requested more angst and Homelander hurting the reader’s feelings during an argument. Hope you enjoy!
He hates this feeling, like he is a little boy again. Shame prickles at the corners of his eyes at the look of deep, aching, hurt on your face. It would have been better if you had fought back. He could have justified his words. Instead you look like a kicked puppy and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? He had to teach you a lesson.
He can smell the salt of the tears that you refuse to let fall and his stomach turns over. He wanted you to be sorry. He didn’t want you to mope and look so damn…disappointed in him.
“John…why would you say that?” You ask weakly and it’s the last thing he could have expected. He knows the answer. He had wanted to hurt you and work his way under your skin. He wanted you to feel the way he felt when he saw you giggling with that new intern. He’d felt impotent and powerless because of course that fuck was working directly under Edgar and therefore out of reach of his wrath. He had to sit there and watch him lay a hand on your shoulder and now he was supposed to feel guilty for putting you in your place? It was unacceptable. Still, he finds it hard to reply around the lump in his throat.
He hates you right now. He hates you for making him feel weak. Your gaze burns through him like acid. Other people, he revels in their pain because they are beneath him. They are only pathetic underlings who think they can control him despite reeking of fear when he’s in their presence. He never had their esteem to begin with beyond empty platitudes.
You are different. Everything about you is so honest and grounded that it makes him feel grounded. He feels like a man instead of a lonely god forced to entertain the masses who should be worshiping him. He thought the feeling would grate on him but it’s the opposite. He feels free. It’s like that first big gulp of oxygen when he descends from the thinning air far above the city. You saw him, truly saw him, and you never feared him once.
He realizes now that maybe there are worse things, disappointment, apathy, the love fading right in front of him. His instinct is to hurt you more for making him feel these things but he can’t.
“I didn’t actually mean it.” He responds, something embarrassingly close to an apology. It works somewhat, you sigh and break your gaze. Without your laser sharp focus, he feels steadier. He needs to gain the upper hand. “You really need to stop letting any old intern put their hands all over you. It makes you look like a slut.”
When you meet his gaze again, you’re just annoyed. He’s relieved, he can handle this.
“Is that what this is about? If something makes you uncomfortable then you can just tell me before you lash out. I can’t read minds.” You reply, exasperated. You take a moment to rub the dampness from your eyes before taking his hand in yours. “For the record, they were showing me pictures of their kids. I can promise the conversation leaned more towards diapers than anything salacious.”
“I know. I heard.” He confesses and you physically fight to not roll your eyes.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll just let them know to give me a little personal space in the future. Does that sound ok?” You ask with a weary smile. You’re being polite for his benefit because your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You’re still upset with him and he doesn’t like it. So, despite the fact that he very much is not ok with it, he nods. He’ll just find a way to get rid of the creep later. You don’t have to know.
“Thank you.” You reply and your eyes are slightly brighter than they were previously.