#and then plots happens. they become operators to save the world again. and actually got married afterward. well. in happy ending route
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Do you have any mmzx oc?
I do, actually! you can check the mmzx oc in my search tag (i should make a separate tags for OCs and my arts on this blog)
tbh, i can't really say much💦
Not that i want to keep them as secret, more like my head is a messy place, even i forgot details from times to times Also like, i tend to re-use NPCs and give them roles...so...saying they are my OCs are... not correct😅
well, i can give you a quick run down about them here if you're interested in reading my messy writing
🛵Giro Express transporter
these two are the one so far that i'm fine with the designs (they are adopts from @/noeggets (go check them out, really cool artist) these aren't their real names, rather code-names that they used to hide their true identities, or precisely their old past 🛵Blue-hair girl is Mint, she focus on communicating with customers and all the paper works jobs, she good at hacking, has trouble with addiction which confuse a lot of people cuz' why a Reploid has that sort of problem, she actually exists since mmz era, and know Rouge, the operator of the Resistance. She was one of few people that works inside NA and help the Resistance by giving coordination to Rouge so Zero can have a safe transportation into certain areas. 🛵Purple hair girl is Campanula (the flower, Canterbury bells), a human (she is in mid 20s, just very short) , mainly works in storage, she is a skilled mechanic so she tend to helps with fixing the vehicles, mainly Aile because Aile tend to go into far more restricted-dangerous zones, sometimes the Guardian base would require her helps, despite her cheerfulness and outgoing attitude at first glance, she has troubles express her true thoughts and critics unless she feel comfortable around you.

(not final design) 🛵His name is Tomi, Yes, he count as an employees, he "disguise" himself as a motorcycle for delivering, mainly Aile use him. a mavericks gone "rouge" cuz' he got effected by the virus which was made by Campanula, it's not that he became more docile or kind, altho Campanula made sure he is incapable of attacking specifically her, he just...become more self-aware of his existence and decided that he prefer using his skill for st else other than be treated as a secondary mini-boss. He does genuinely like Campanula due to her carefulness when its come to machines, even to Mavericks like him. Other than her, Aile is another one that he also like because she impressed him with her riding skills (think of all the stunt from GTA video games) which lead to him admiring human tendency to seek danger as some sort of fun challenges. (he is one of the few OCs that i considered to be the oldest cuz' i had this concept for a long time ever since i played mmz)

(not final design, also thank you @/tyrantchimera for the sketch! Check their blog out, they are both cool artist and writer) 🛵Her name is Lake, she named it herself (or you can say OP is very uncreative when it comes to naming, lol) Another Mavericks gone "rouge", she became docile when failed to fully control Model L. she is one of few test subjects for Serpent to check how he can manipulate Ciel's biometals for his troops, Leviathan's subconscious "convinced" Lake to turn good which she success and Lake managed to escaped Serpent's controls but failed to take model L with her. She encountered Aile post-Ouroboros downfall, helping to pinpoint the leftover pieces of model Ws to ensure they stayed dead. (Aile didn't reveal Vent who was helping them finding the pieces, why tho? no idea currently, lol...) Then later on, she was saved by Aile and worked as some sort of submarine to transport packages and all sort of heavy stuffs across sea.
❌Others

(not the final design) This old Reploid guy is Leo (funny enough, he is "younger" than Mint) He was made around the same time as Prometheus and Pandora (he doesn't know them but aware of their reputation) but instead of staying youthful, he remain as old (simply for aesthetic choice, "old-looking people are cool") He is a skilled mechanic, also a trader for rare parts and "illegal" equipments for people who don't want Legion's eyes on them (especially with the news about Master Albert gone Mavericks, lots more people been looking into this type of service)
Well, these are the one that has designs I have a loooot more, but they are all from a long time ago, and i do wish i can find those old papers again but not like i will reuse the designs.
well, i hope some of these make sense if you managed to read it all.
#mmzx OC#kudo oc#edit: damn. my memory is shit. for some reason. i misremember their blog names#it was actually noeggets. but still check both them out tho#thank anon for the chance to let me talk about OCs#then again. you probably just expect a quick answer “yes” or “no” so erm. sorry for the long answer haha#tbh. the GE squad have a lot of old Resistance soldiers. cuz' “Legion rules kinda sketchy”#Jaune working alongside Mint to chat with customer#Rouge is currently working in some sort of underground illegal market alongside Leo#i have this...weird arc that Rouge and Jaune have a minor “divorce” arc post mmz4. they weren't aware of others lives after breakout-#and then plots happens. they become operators to save the world again. and actually got married afterward. well. in happy ending route#Cerveau sadly died. it hinted that he tried to shield Ciel away from Serpent's outburst#man. would it be fucked up if i turned his corpse into a boss fight?#Hirondelle worked as a transporter too. he mostly work in-town. in my mind. he is the NPCs that gives out most side-quests#Pic. he works with Lake. He aware that she is a Maverick yet still worked with her. well. at first. he assume that she was wrongfully-#being accused of being Mavericks when she was simply doing her job. then Aile has to properly explain but at that point. Pic doesn't mind#Rocinolle the nurse. she is not GE employees. but she does associated with them by taking care of the workers children#well. Warren is the only one that has kid. and it's Blossom.#Hibou the chubby guy. He is actually more tougher than Warren. also work as truck driver.#Hibou works alongside Leo. also helps with repairing Lake.#Colbor the guy who was saved from Harpuia. He worked as transporters. same tier as Aile. i said same tier.#cuz' he also venture into restricted-dangerous zones. less than Aile tho#Autruche. neither works for Guardian. GE or even Hunter. he is just a trader for goodies. typical NPCs that you buy equipments from#Altho he can act like a side-quest giver like Hirondelle. You have to talk to him and endure his long “boring” stories to get them tho#yeah. sometimes i think of zx AU as some sort of game as well#... ... man. talking in tumblr tags feels more fun then in the main text for some reason#anyhow. thank for reading and the ask!
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Homebrew Mechanic: Meaningful Research
Being careful about when you deliver information to your party is one of the most difficult challenges a dungeonmaster may face, a balancing act that we constantly have to tweak as it affects the pacing of our campaigns.
That said, unlike a novel or movie or videogame where the writers can carefully mete out exposition at just the right time, we dungeonmasters have to deal with the fact that at any time (though usually not without prompting) our players are going to want answers about what's ACTUALLY going on, and they're going to take steps to find out.
To that end I'm going to offer up a few solutions to a problem I've seen pop up time and time again, where the heroes have gone to all the trouble to get themselves into a great repository of knowledge and end up rolling what seems like endless knowledge checks to find out what they probably already know. This has been largely inspired by my own experience but may have been influenced by watching what felt like several episodes worth of the critical role gang hitting the books and getting nothing in return.
I've got a whole write up on loredumps, and the best way to dripfeed information to the party, but this post is specifically for the point where a party has gained access to a supposed repository of lore and are then left twiddling their thumbs while the dm decides how much of the metaplot they're going to parcel out.
When the party gets to the library you need to ask yourself: Is the information there to be found?
No, I don't want them to know yet: Welcome them into the library and then save everyone some time by saying that after a few days of searching it’s become obvious the answers they seek aren’t here. Most vitally, you then either need to give them a new lead on where the information might be found, or present the development of another plot thread (new or old) so they can jump on something else without losing momentum.
No, I want them to have to work for it: your players have suddenly given you a free “insert plothook here” opportunity. Send them in whichever direction you like, so long as they have to overcome great challenge to get there. This is technically just kicking the can down the road, but you can use that time to have important plot/character beats happen.
Yes, but I don’t want to give away the whole picture just yet: The great thing about libraries is that they’re full of books, which are written by people, who are famously bad at keeping their facts straight. Today we live in a world of objective or at least peer reviewed information but the facts in any texts your party are going to stumble across are going to be distorted by bias. This gives you the chance to give them the awnsers they want mixed in with a bunch of red herrings and misdirections. ( See the section below for ideas)
Yes, they just need to dig for it: This is the option to pick if you're willing to give your party information upfront while at the same time making it SEEM like they're overcoming the odds . Consider having an encounter, or using my minigame system to represent their efforts at looking for needles in the lithographic haystack. Failure at this system results in one of the previous two options ( mixed information, or the need to go elsewhere), where as success gets them the info dump they so clearly crave.
The Art of obscuring knowledge AKA Plato’s allegory of the cave, but in reverse
One of the handiest tools in learning to deliver the right information at the right time is a sort of “slow release exposition” where you wrap a fragment lore the party vitally needs to know in a coating of irrelevant information, which forces them to conjecture on possibilities and draw their own conclusions. Once they have two or more pieces on the same subject they can begin to compare and contrast, forming an understanding that is merely the shadow of the truth but strong enough to operate off of.
As someone who majored in history let me share some of my favourite ways I’ve had to dig for information, in the hopes that you’ll be able to use it to function your players.
A highly personal record in the relevant information is interpreted through a personal lens to the point where they can only see the information in question
Important information cameos in the background of an unrelated historical account
The information can only be inferred from dry as hell accounts or census information. Cross reference with accounts of major historical events to get a better picture, but everything we need to know has been flattened into datapoints useful to the bureaucracy and needs to be re-extrapolated.
The original work was lost, and we only have this work alluding to it. Bonus points if the existent work is notably parodying the original, or is an attempt to discredit it.
Part of a larger chain of correspondence, referring to something the writers both experienced first hand and so had no reason to describe in detail.
The storage medium (scroll, tablet, arcane data crystal) is damaged in some way, leading to only bits of information being known.
Original witnesses Didn’t have the words to describe the thing or events in question and so used references from their own environment and culture. Alternatively, they had specific words but those have been bastardized by rough translations.
Tremendously based towards a historical figure/ideology/religion to the point that all facts in the piece are questionable. Bonus points if its part of a treatise on an observably untrue fact IE the flatness of earth
#homebrew mechanic#d&d mechanics#research#tableskills#tabletop inspiration#dm tip#dm advice#exposition
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Well... You got me curious.
Any specific au you wanna talk about rn? 👁️👁️
sniles so sneetly. i actually have Six that i am jumping between at any given moment so you're getting like. a rundown of them all lmao
crime
baby white collar criminal spider x ruffian river. god willing this will be the next thing i post so i don't want to give away too much of the plot but the lamb lore is crazy detailed considering he barely appears in the actual fic. he still operated with the o.b. in berlin but on the side was lifting and fencing art. by the time the wall came down he had enough tucked away to baaasically retire. runs three establishments in various places in london that are all basically fronts — some more well-known than others. has unfortunately quasi-adopted some of londons less fortunate criminals and now keeps them out of trouble. or tries to.
river17
this was intended to be like a horny frankenstein au and has instead become a river suffering extravaganza. based off mickey17/mickey7, river is an expendable — volunteered to die over and over again and basically be restored from a save file — and spider is one of the scientists attached the programme. also they're in space which isn't i guess super relevant plot wise but is important tonally.
pacrim
this one has two stories in it and is also the hardest to write because i am so insane about/familiar with pacific rim it's like the xkcd "average familiarity" comic. but basically one story in this au is just. stansted, but through the mechanics of the world it becomes a very intimate and almost embarrassing moment for spider, and the mind melding nature of the drift means that river is completely aware he's been fucked over but the way it happens puts him in a very like. emotionally compromised position. and then the other is about louisa like. opening up again after mins death (which is Bad in this one — they're connected physically mentally and emotionally as he dies) and perhaps getting yuriful with shirkey along the way
polar
i actually finished the outline today, so hopefully this one will be the next one done after crime. based on/inspired by the disastrous expedition of the hms belgica this one sends the slow horses to the coast of antarctica 1898. their ship, the aldersgate, is a backup/supply ship for the hms regent (the real expedition ship) and they get trapped in pack ice. highlights include river getting scurvy, river almost drowning, spider going blind for three days, and river and spider sharing a bed along with ~160 sticks of homemade explosive.
equestrian
spider is a competitive showjumper and river is an accidentally-hired groom. they have a "complicated" past (what should have been minor boarding school sabotage from spider left river with a broken hip) and have lame sex about it. spider also might getting a tbi in this one i haven't quite decided yet
vampire
this one came to me in a dream like. months ago. but i still think about it. kind of business as usual except the slow horses are vampires. no real plot for this one yet, just vibes and lore lmao each one them is like. a different subspecies? or had very specific different powers. river was known as a needlefang (had very fine fangs that came down between his other teeth — as opposed to being extensions of them — so victims didn't notice bites as easily and if they did, dismissed them as bug bites), louisa was a blur (super fast) and shirley a wisp (could turn invisible). lamb was the classic style vamp w a host of powers and i dont remember catherine, marcus, or roddys deals.
they call me normal man.
#jeasefics#i love yapping#my au list is like a hydra every time i finish one i come up with two more 😭🤭#slow horses#also vamp river had like. hypnotising venom? people he bit would gove him information more readily
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nobody's keeping score
Ship: HideKane
Summary: In a world where ink stains the white papers of constitutions, damning the lives of ghouls, their existence is no secret or rumor, but a topic of heated debate, protests, and anonymous organ donations in shady alleys. No matter how bright the CCG appears in their white coats, their light cannot reach the dark tunnels where ghouls and sympathizers alike are plotting. And when Hide, after hours of sitting at his best friend’s hospital bed, sees him wake with one eye black and red, the difficult question is not how to get him help, but how to avoid him becoming the figurehead of a conflict threatening to turn into a bloody revolution.
AN: Notes: You ever just take a 4-year break from a fandom and return with spite fic because you remembered how much you hated canon? Yeah. This fanfic is my attempt at corralling the TG worldbuilding into something coherent that makes sense. I will keep some elements of canon, others I will throw out of the window straight away. This is utterly self-indulgent.
“And with the developments in synthetic meat production—”
Hide wanted to groan. They’d been discussing the same question for the last three hours of class and he was, frankly speaking, done with it. People were running out of arguments and circling back to topics that didn’t contribute anything to the conversation they were supposed to be having. From the way their lecturer was glaring at the latest speaker, Hide would say that she was also very done.
“Yoshimura, as stated before, we are not discussing possibilities for ghoul integration, but the mere premise of whether they even deserve the rights needed to legalize their status as citizens. The right of existence of an individual should not be dependent on what modifications would have to be made to accommodate them, but whether they deserve to live regardless.”
Hide had zoned out about an hour ago. His opinion on ghouls had always felt rather clinical, mathematically detached, despite Hide’s history. Maybe too much time had passed since he’d looked at the bloody remains of his father to really hammer home the fear-motivated rejection so many people fell to. Perhaps the CCG investigators, who had dragged him away from his father’s corpse, should have allowed him to get a little more traumatized before the kindness of his new parents had become enough to dull those painful memories.
Some ghouls were no different than brutal serial killers, and they had to be taken down, but the rest seemed to be getting by just fine. If a new legislation would make it even easier for them to go about their everyday lives, perhaps the number of violent ghoul attacks would go down as well. Hide was well aware that this was the view of a privileged person. Growing up in the 20th ward meant that you needn’t be scared of leaving your house when it was already dark. Kamii University prided itself on the fact that it could safely offer evening classes such as the one Hide was attending now. The same certainly couldn’t be said for the other wards. Any citizen between the 9th and 13th wards would probably advocate vocally for the extermination of ghouls. The 11th especially resembled a warzone even during the daylight. Ghoul sightings were nothing unusual there, and investigators’ mutilated bodies were displayed as trophies and warnings alike. Meanwhile, nobody had died in the 20th war for something like ten odd years. Sometimes it felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop, but most of the time, Hide didn’t even think about ghouls.
By the time class was finally over, Hide had taken only one or two more bullet points. They hadn’t really said anything of interest and it reflected in his writing. Usually, Hide would be sending rapid-fire texts to Kaneki now, but his friend was still on his date and Hide didn’t want to bother him. It had taken more than just a bit of teasing and probing to get Kaneki to ask that girl out and he wouldn’t self-sabotage his hard work.
It was good that Kaneki was connecting to people that weren’t just Hide.
And it would be awesome if Hide could do the same.
Codependence needed two people to work and Kaneki was definitely not the only one struggling with independence. Hide had yet to figure out how to let go of Kaneki when his relationship to the other boy had been the only stable thing in his world for the longest time. Nothing said mental health like latching onto an abused child to escape the stifling air of his brand-new foster fathers’ home.
The next time he visited his parents, he’d bring them some flowers to make up for how troublesome he’d been as a child.
Glancing at his phone again, Hide realized he had to hurry if he wanted to take the early bus home. He was just about to plug in his headphones when an unknown number flashed up on the display. Who would call him at this time? Hide was definitely someone who preferred texting. Even his parents knew better than to call unless it was serious. The only person he ever actually called was Kaneki, and that was only because his friend sometimes got so lost in a book, he forgot to text back or didn’t even hear the phone buzz. Hide contemplated picking up for another ring, then gave in and accepted. “Nagachika Hideyoshi speaking, who’s calling?”
“Hello, I am Tanaka Akako, a nurse of the Kanou General Hospital. You are Nagachika Hideyoshi, Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact?”
The blood in Hide’s veins froze.
“Yes, I am. Has— has anything happened? Is Kaneki alright!?”
The nurse’s voice was so calm, steady, and pleasant as if this was a chat between friends. Somewhere Hide knew that it probably helped most people, but it just put him on edge. “Nagachika-san, your friend and another young woman were involved in an accident. Dr. Kanou is preparing him for surgery, but as his emergency contact, we have to discuss the possible options before we can proceed.”
Hide didn’t want to discuss any options. There shouldn’t be any besides Kaneki’s survival. Hide wanted to rush into the operation hall and hold Kaneki’s hand, wishing he could turn back time, tell his friend to remain at his side and consider that girl out of his league so he’d spent the evening with him and not getting sent to ER. This couldn’t be real; he was sick to his stomach.
“What are the options?” Hide asked, panic threatening to strangle him as he rushed to the street, trying to find a taxi to take him to Kanou General straightaway.
“Kaneki-san sustained serious injuries. Dr. Kanou is willing to transplant the deceased Kamishiro-san’s organs into your friend to save his life even if her family hasn’t consented yet. The only consent we can ask for in Kaneki-san’s case is yours and—”
“Do it,” Hide replied immediately. He didn’t know Kaneki’s date, and as much as Hide loved people, argued for a baseline acceptance every day in class, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the wishes of a family whose daughter was already dead. The only thing they were still good for once their hearts stopped beating was serving the living with their remains.
Kaneki might survive because of her; what else could matter? “Do it, whatever you need to save him— you have my full permission.”
Finally, a taxi approached and stopped right when Hide waved for it. He quickly climbed inside and, paying no attention to the driver, told him to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
“And in case he doesn’t survive, may his organs—”
“He will survive,” Hide pressed because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he were to lose Kaneki. He’d built a life around his best friend and how much they meant to one another. Hide couldn’t give up on that, couldn’t let it slip past his fingers. “He’ll survive. I know it.”
Organ transplants took place every day without any complications—
Hide’s eyes widened. “Kaneki has recessive ROS!” he all but shouted at the nurse, startling the taxi driver.
Kaneki’s father had died because of it. If Kaneki got the wrong blood transfusions or anything, his RC cells were suddenly pushed to start acting up, the dormant sickness could turn on and what if Hide had just damned him to a life of wasting away—
No.
Stay positive. Don’t freak out even more. They hadn’t done anything yet, merely asked for Hide’s permission to help Kaneki at all. He was saving his friend’s life; he wasn’t cursing him.
“Thank you for telling me, Nagachika-san. I will pass that on to Dr. Kanou. You have just contributed immensely to the safety of the procedure.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Hide said. “Just— he has to hold on. Tell Kaneki he has to hold on until I’m there.”
“We will, Nagachika-san, don’t worry. Dr. Kanou will do his best.”
His best.
The words echoed in Hide’s mind. How was he ever supposed to know if Kanou’s best would be enough for his friend? Hide excelled at being optimistic, could see the positive side of most things in life, had learned how to be hopeful at the funerals of people he’d loathed. He just couldn’t allow himself to drown in any negative possibilities.
The rest of the drive passed in the blur, either because the driver had known to speed up after listening in on the phone call, or because Hide was so out of it that he didn’t really register the streetlamps flickering by until the taxi had reached its destination. Hide passed the driver a couple bills, probably more than the transport had actually cost, but he didn’t care. What were one or two skipped meals compared to being there before it was too late? Hide rushed inside the sterile white hospital, eyes immediately set on the front desk.
“My friend,” Hide stuttered as he clung to the counter, holding it as if it were his lifeline. “He was brought in— an accident. He was on a date and there was an accident. Dr. Kanou is operating him?”
The receptionist seemed confused, needing a moment to make something coherent out of Hide’s rambles. “I need your identification before I can tell you anything about our patients.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Hide fumbled for his student ID card and put it on the counter with shaky hands. “Nagachika Hideyoshi, I’m Kaneki Ken’s emergency contact.”
“Of course, your friend is still in the operating room. You can wait here.”
Hide didn’t want to wait, but what else was there he could do? He hated feeling useless like this, unable to contribute anything productive. The receptionist sent him a kind look and, defeated, Hide crossed the entrance hall to the waiting room where he remained together with other worried family members and patients, clutching his phone so he wouldn’t start screaming. He couldn’t stop moving his legs, stress keeping him wide awake even as the hospital emptied and less and less people sat around him. How long did such an operation take? An hour? Two? Hide had absolutely no idea. He didn’t study anything like this. His major was English literature, which was about as helpful as hot air at this moment.
He could quote enough books concerned with some medical drama and family members in the hospital, but none of them brought him any comfort.
“Nagachika-san?”
Hide looked up into the kind face of an elderly man wearing a pristine white coat.
“Y- yes?” Hide replied and quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. “Are you Dr. Kanou? Is my friend alright? Can I see him?”
“I am sorry to have caused you such worries. The operation went well. Your friend is resting in intensive care right now. He is still asleep, but you may visit him. The presence of loved ones is often very beneficial to the healing process.”
Healing.
A sob shook Hide’s shoulders. Kaneki was alive. He hadn’t died.
“Thank you,” he managed to say in between his sobs. “Thank you, thank you for saving his life.”
The doctor only kept on smiling and kindly put his hand on Hide’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly in what was meant to be comforting. “It is my job, young man. You don’t have to thank me. Nothing is more important to me than saving innocent lives. If you follow one of the nurses, you can see your friend immediately.”
Hide thanked the doctor once more, relief slowly filling the pits anxiety had hollowed out. He followed the nurse through the labyrinth of death, decay, healing, and salvation up to the intensive care station. Quietly, he was led to a room. The door opened, revealing one lone figure on a bed.
From a distance, hooked up with so many tubes and wires, Kaneki was nothing like the person who took up half of Hide’s life. He seemed so much smaller and looked like just one push could snap his connection to life.
“Please remain quiet,” the nurse told him. “And don’t move him.” Glancing at his still trembling fingers, she added, “but you may hold his hand.”
Hide nodded, then quickly crossed the room to Kaneki’s bed and sat down on the chair next to it. Kaneki didn’t move at all; not even a single muscle twitched. Hide would assume they had led him to view his friend’s corpse if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Pushing up the sleeves of his jacket, Hide took Kaneki’s hand in his own.
“Hey, Ken,” he muttered, pressing his eye close so no tears would escape them. “You scared me there. Don’t ever do that again.”
Predictably, Kaneki didn’t reply. Nevertheless, Hide imagined that just for a moment, he squeezed Hide’s hand back. Slowly, the tension bled from Hides’s shoulders and he made himself comfortable in the hard plastic chair. This was bound to be a long night and he was starting to feel his exhaustion catch up to him. He tried to keep his eyes trained on his friend for as long as possible, remaining alert for a change to his condition, but it was getting more and more difficult to keep them open.
Eventually, the darkness caught him as he fell. Hide knew he stirred a couple more times during the night, likely when the nurses came to check on Kaneki. Nobody asked him to move and leave, something he was immensely thankful for. He wouldn’t have been able to let go. By the time the sun began to chase away the shadows again, Hide wasn’t sure how much he had slept, only that it had definitely not been enough. But that was alright, he could catch up on sleep sometime later. It was far more important that Kaneki was going to be alright.
Hide turned to look at Kaneki’s face and found his friend awake, staring back at him.
One eye gray like a stormy cloud before the morning rainfall.
The other was blood-red against the night sky.
#tokyo ghoul#hideyoshi nagachika#kaneki ken#tg#hidekane#fanfic#what UP i'm back with spite fic#also on ao3#but i will add the link later bc tumblr likes to mess up
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Alright. I finally got Dead or Alive. Here’s this year’s list of gripes/comments. These aren’t in any particular order, but just what occurred to me as I was writing this. Overall, it was better than Midnight but a downgrade from SoW in my opinion. Warning for spoilers below.
This book was just too outlandish for me. I was ok with the time travel. But Malice and Cadaver and the death gods were just too much for me. I just feel like phase one set up a sandbox, and while it got weird at times it was a plausible sandbox that seemed to operate with a series of rules. Now, Derek just seems to be breaking all these rules and the books seem like really weird crossover fanfic to me.
Ok this book made me not like Skulduggery at allllllll. His moral compass is all over the place. Like. Phase one he was a good guy with a dark past, that he had moved on from, and he was actively trying to save the world. Now he just seems terrible. The only reason he’s involved in things anymore seems to be to help Val or himself. And Val doesn’t hold him accountable at all. He admits to straight up killing a good person in this book (self defense?? Since when could anyone beat him, this is a stupid plot line/////) and Val just. Moves on. Compare this to their reaction to finding out Guild assassinated a pacifist in phase one. Furthermore this book kind of sets up Skul as a villain? Like they’re trying to change the future, so arguably Cadaver shouldn’t end up existing, but technically this information is still in his psyche and could still come out. It’s a little weird knowing that he isn’t really a good guy at all, but that everything has been part of evil him’s master plan. At least now we know why Vile wanted to kill everyone, but to be honest ‘he was angry his wife was murdered and hated the world’ always worked just fine and probably would have been sufficient.
And to be honest Val’s not that endearing anymore either? Like I used to read these books for their interactions, but now it feels like the characters need to go their own ways. Like Val isn’t the wide-eyed pupil anymore, which is ok, but now Skul and Val don’t have the same endearing relationship anymore. The humor is also pretty much gone from their interactions, and the banter feels predictable and stunted
There’s also no emotion in their interactions? Like they just seem to talk and don’t really react to anything that’s going on with each other. Cadaver is a really terrible guy, who is supposedly Skul from the future, but Val never once goes ‘hey Skul, you wouldn’t be evil again would you?’ which I would kind of expect from this scenario. Similarly, Skul seems to have completely gotten over Val’s issues, despite interactions with Militsa showing they’re ongoing.
Dear lord please do not let Landy write Valdug. That’s where this feels like it’s going and I hate it so muchhhh.
Val’s hesitation to killing Creed was odd??? Really feel like this isn’t the first time the duo tried to kill someone, and Creed seems to fit the bill . . .
I was so happy to see Fletcher in this book, you have no idea! I love him so much :). Kind of weird he wasn’t a sympathetic character for the students at the end though
Who is the child of the ancients? It’s either darquesse or omen for me right now. If Omen it would make sense that he’s been set up as the protagonist, and Auger’s been removed from the picture. It also adds meaning to the final interaction between Omen and Val in DOA.
If it’s Darquesse than I’m predicting she’s going to merge back with Val to ‘save the world’ thereby balancing out Val’s faceless ones heritage with ancient heritage and stopping her from being solely the child of the faceless one.
Speaking of Omen, I really like him now, despite not liking him in Resurrection! I loved his sections. Including him is honestly the best phase two decision Derek made.
The China section with Malice was just super weird. Like it actually grossed me out? And why would she refuse to help only to later change her mind when Malice was in the room akkjadkjhkahdkjahd. Also why would Malice save her?? China’s relationship was with Val not Alice (MALICE IS ANOTHER RIPOFF DARQUESSE). China’s character has been completely ruined, and that makes me sad. I’m intrigued to see what will happen in the last book because she seems to be on Tanith’s side now (o.o Tanith/China o.o). However I’m not holding my breath that she’ll be redeemed :(.
Militsa had to break up with Val, imo she’s going to end up taking the job offer and becoming an antagonist. Just seems weird that Derek put a lot of effort into making her and Val’s relationship seem more realistic in this book (probably due to fandom complaints that they never interact), only to end it in between the pages. We don’t actually get that ending that we get with Fletcher, so it feels cheap in a way? Also the placement of it in the narrative (right at the end, after the climax) was so weird. Like if it was a few chapters earlier it would have felt more natural.
The assassin boyfriend character just seems like a cop-out to tie off the Cassandra prediction loose end. I’m sad he hurt? killed? Danny,,, Even the characters we barely remember but are still fond of aren’t safe :(
The plot twist with the Crystal of the Saints being the activator was way too predictable. It makes me miss Derek’s old writing though; if this had been the first series Derek absolutely would have had catching crystal dude be a running gag throughout the books, only for it to be revealed that he was Important in this one
Trump has lost the election can the TRUMP CHARACTER PLEASE DIE NOW HOLY SHITTTT. I swear all my favourite characters have died but I have to deal with this bullshit :( :( But also this is the one plotline that makes absolutely no sense to meeee
Anyways. That’s this year’s thing. Let me know what your thoughts are (particularly on the Child of the Ancients!!)
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Use All of Me (P.9)
Title: Use All Of Me (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,440 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death
Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Steve was downstairs in the Avengers compound working on something with Bruce. He would not tell you what it was, but you had a feeling it had to do with their drugs. You had overheard him on the phone, which confirmed that they were involved with shady business. He had left you upstairs, letting you mill about on your own. It was nice to be out of the house. You had taken the opportunity to walk outside along the waterfront. It was tranquil by the water away from the building. You wished you had brought some bread to feed the ducks.
Instead of taking the elevator, you had elected to take the stairs back up to the communal areas of the facility.
When you arrived back in the main room, you were breathing heavier than normal. You were already getting winded far easier now, which was annoying. Bucky was in there now and he noticed your discomfort when you walked in. You tried to look normal, but he had already seen it.
“Y/N, here,” he said coming over to you and putting an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the couch. “What happened?”
“I took the stairs,” you told him, laughing uncomfortably. “Not boding well for at home… staircases and all.” You let him sit you down.
“You cut your hair,” you said to Bucky, giving him a small smile.
He ran his hand over his far shorter hair, returning the smile. “You like it?” You nodded. “I was getting tired of the upkeep. Far easier to manage in the shower now.”
Your own hand ran over your stomach – a habit that was becoming common – as you chuckled. “I can imagine. It does look suave though.”
“That’s what I am always going for,” Bucky said jokingly. “Do you want some water?”
“Sure.”
He fetched you some and the two of you made small talk until your breathing and heart rate was back under control.
“I do feel I should work out more. Steve has a gym. I just have only been using the treadmill.”
“You think anything more than a treadmill is smart the further you get into this?”
“People work out all the way up to giving birth,” you told him. “But I’m sure I’ll need to get the okay from Dr. Kamal before Steve agrees to any strength training or the like.”
You stood up to return the glass to the bar, Bucky watching you with caution. You walked past him, stretching out your legs. On the way back to the seating area, you passed the table. It was glowing around the edges and you frowned slightly. Curiosity got the better of you.
Your fingers ran over the table and as Bucky warned, “Y/N, don’t—" suddenly a hologram popped up. You jumped back seeing all these equations you did not recognize. Bucky sighed, pulling you away from it just as a door slammed down the hall and loud voices echoed down the hall to the room the two of you were in. Tony stormed into the room with Clint on his heel.
“I don’t give a shit who gets the blowback! I almost got fucking SHOT, if you happened to miss that!” Tony was practically shouting.
Clint started, “I get that, Tony, but—”
“Who touched that?” Tony barked, turning an accusing look at you and Bucky, cutting Clint off.
The way Bucky slightly stood in front of you, sheltering you from Tony’s melting glare was all he needed. He advanced on the two of you and Bucky pushed you even further behind him.
“The next time you put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you, I’ll put a bullet between those pretty eyes!”
“Tony!” Bucky barked at him now, standing his ground. “She just touched the table as she was walking by. She wasn’t snooping. Back off!”
Straightening up, Tony had a stare off with Bucky, the tension in the room thick.
Tearing his gaze away from Bucky, Tony told you, “Sorry. I’m not frustrated with you.” He whipped around and looked at Clint again. “Who I am frustrated with is that idiot.” He clicked something on the table, turning it off, the hologram disappearing.
“You already killed him,” Clint pointed out. “I don’t know what more you want to do to him.”
“Defile the body? Chop it up?” Tony suggested wildly as he strode over to the bar. He grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey and poured himself a healthy amount. He took a long drink before smacking his lips and leaning on the counter. The other three of you were watching him with unease, wondering what he was going to do next. After a few moments, he looked up and demanded, “Where the hell is Nat?”
“She was making sure the shipment got through,” Clint answered.
“I know that,” Tony said strained. “But where is she now?”
“Hopefully on her way back.”
“What happened?” Bucky finally ventured to ask.
Tony snarled, “Adrian was trying to get some revenge. We gave him a fucking chance to work for us and he decided that wasn’t going to work for him. Well, now his face is kicked the fuck in, thanks to yours truly. You know, I am ready to just wipe out the rest of his stupid little shit stain of a crew – his fiancé included because if that little bitch tries to squeal—”
“Tony,” Clint said sharply, catching his attention. “Y/N doesn’t need to hear shit like that.”
Waving at you wildly, Tony snapped, “She’s in it now. She’s gonna hear shit sometimes. Right, sweetheart?” He directed the last at you and your mouth fell open, unsure of what he wanted you to say.
“Um, yes?”
“Right. See, Clint? I’m sure Steve has said some shit in front of her too. It happens. I’ve done it to Pepper plenty of times. They’re the side pieces. Which is why his bitch needs to get gone. Now. She’s a liability.”
Bucky tried this time, “We can talk about that later. You just need to relax. Have some more whiskey.”
Tony shook his head at them trying to shut him up, but he did all the same, taking another large gulp of his whiskey.
You sat back down slowly, resting back on the couch, taking in what you had just heard. You knowing even the slightest about their operation made you a liability apparently. It made whatever Bryce said the other day truer: you would have the whole team after you if you tried to leave and they would want to find you because they would not want you to talk about anything. It compounded the risk of running away.
Tony refilled his glass and came over to the couch, sitting down near you. “You mind if I turn on the TV?” You shook your head and he chucked you underneath the chin. “Good girl. I just need to watch some people knock the shit out of each other. There was a fight card last night and I missed it.”
Natasha appeared, closely followed by Bruce and Steve. She looked upset and Tony held up his finger. She stopped, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Uh uh. The three here got me calmed down, stopping me from exploding my artificial heart. I need a few. Just tell me yes or no, did the shipment go through?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. I will discuss the bullshit later. I need a little bit of time before we plot on the next move. Actually, if you have questions, Barton or Barnes can take you out into the hall and give you the basics of what I want to do. Y/N and I can sit in here and watch Holloway hopefully knock this joker out.”
You locked eyes with Steve and gave him a slight shrug, sinking back down into the couch. His hand rested on your shoulder as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the top of your head.
“I’ll be back then, love,” he said before following Bucky out of the room.
<> <> <>
‘This is going to be your favorite!” Yua announced.
“Is it from you then?” you teased.
Natalie and Yua had arranged a baby shower for you. When they brought up the idea, you had proposed to Steve it be done here at home. He was more receptive to the idea presented that way. You had pushed your luck, suggesting he should not be home while the party was going on, mentioning it was a baby shower, typically for the ladies. You believed he was relieved you were excited about the idea at all, extending it towards the idea of being a mother, because he agreed quite heartily.
He was not quiet about it to the team, and you found yourself having three more guests added to the list: Natasha, Pepper, and Wanda. You were surprised at Natasha, she did not seem the type to enjoy such a get together but you kept that to yourself. She had been enjoying herself well enough, passing Natalie, exchanging looks.
Your friends insisted on you staying upstairs while they decorated and only allowed you to come down once they were finished.
Yua smirked, “Maybe.”
You laughed in return, opening the gift, the one of many more to go.
A little while later, you managed to pull Natalie aside while everyone was distracted with passing out prizes for a game. She followed you away from the room and let you lead her to the bathroom. You closed the door behind the two of you and turned around quickly.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure,” Natalie said, looking at you curiously but handed it over.
Googling, you tried to see the time it would take if you were to follow through with what you wanted to do. In seconds, your hope was dashed.
It was three hours at least – and that was with good traffic – to Grand Central Station. There was no way you would be able to get there in time before Steve realized you were missing. Even if you managed to knock Bryce and Patricia out with sleeping pills, Steve would more than likely check in and see them unresponsive.
You numbly handed the phone back to Natalie.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the look on your face.
“It’s nothing.”
“Y/N.”
Tears welled up and you wiped at your eyes, shaking your head. “If I tell you it will wrap you into it and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to be unsafe.”
She grasped your shoulders and forced you to look at her. “Y/N,” she repeated. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…he – Steve – wants 5 or 6 kids,” you told Natalie tearfully. Her eyes widened in shock and you hissed, “I know!”
“He said that?”
You nodded. “I haven’t even had the first two.”
“Did he even ask you what you thought about it?”
You shook your head now. “Of course not.”
Natalie’s shoulders fell and you sighed heavily, wiping at your eyes again, “He loves me. I know he does in the form he believes it to be true. But it’s… it’s suffocating. I can’t eat anything not approved for my health by my nutritionist and the babies healths. I didn’t have any say in that, he made that decision for me. I don’t leave without him and if I want to, I have to tell him where I’m going so he knows where to go if something ‘goes wrong’ and he can find me quickly. I’m afraid to google anything that might be suspicious because I’m afraid he’s going to ask to check my phone. He hasn’t ever but the fear is there if he ever got suspicious, you know?”
Slowly, Natalie said, “No. I don’t know. that’s not normal, Y/N.”
“Right. And I mean, he forced me to move in with him, sell my apartment, he quit my job for me—”
“Hold on. He did that?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you wanted that.”
“Are you joking me? I told him I could work. I’m pregnant, not disabled I believe were my exact words. And he said he didn’t want me working and I was going to end up not working at all anyway if I was with him.” Natalie rose her eyebrows and you shrugged helplessly. “I…I wanted to leave. I asked Bryce – my security – first and he told me he wouldn’t help me and made me promise I wouldn’t try to leave. So, then I wanted to take a train. Somewhere. Anywhere. It would be hard to track a train route if I took someone’s ticket at the station rather than being on camera and buying my own. I could manage on my own. Find a church to take me in and I could work to make up for their hospitality. I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to see your phone. See how far away it was.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan, Y/N.”
You burst into tears and she immediately grabbed your shoulders. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s not rude, it’s true. I’m… fucked!”
“If you’re that miserable—”
“I’m not miserable all the time,” you cut in.
“But you want to leave.”
“Yes, but more so I want to be able to breathe! If I could just do that…” you breathed shakily. “If he gave me space, I would be satisfied. I would be okay being with him. I just don’t see it happening… and I hate it because I still want it to work as I want to run away at the same time.” Rubbing your stomach, you looked around the bathroom. Sniffling, you said, “All the baby gifts are so nice. I could make the best of this.” You cradled your stomach closer, and said, “You don’t have to say it. I know you warned me. I was just smitten… so very smitten. And he was so sweet. I didn’t care about the danger.”
Natalie pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you close, electing to stay quiet.
<> <> <>
Outside the bathroom window, Natasha ground her teeth. She had been doing rounds around the grounds, wanting to get air from the tittering women inside. The bushes had done enough to hide her from sight. She heard Y/N and Natalie speaking and gotten curious why they were both in the bathroom. When she was able to hear clearly, Y/N was talking about having to sell her apartment because Steve ‘forced’ her too.
Natasha left the bushes when they fell silent, careful to not make any noise.
~~~
Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters
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PatB: Snowball Ep Talk
You know, I really do love the episode Snowball (my personal favorite AKOM episode) but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here much, and if I did it’s probably really only because of the flashback sequence.
Okay so all looks good so far. Chain letter scheme and superstition, a standard introduction to Brain’s latest plot of world domination. All looks good. Plus I just like this shot of Pinky. Don’t mind me, just starting off light here with a smushed Pinky.
I just like Pinky’s pose here. He’s so cute.
You will bow before Troz.
“I met a Snowball today! Right here in the lab!” -Pinky
You know, I just find the implications of this line hysterical. This means that Snowball was in the lab that day, waiting for the moment to strike, and he definitely pushed his stolen chain letter through the mail slot.
And then he lets Pinky see him, and no it’s not just a passing glance either cause Pinky specifically describes a tattoo with an A and a circle and points to his leg. Which means Snowball deliberately lifted the fur on his leg and showed his tattoo to Pinky.
Like, wow.
“It means, Pinky, that evil lurks among us. By the name of Snowball! SNOWBALLLLLLLL!” -Brain
Talk about a bad breakup. *Alexa play Bad Blood*
Personally I think one of the interesting visual cues is that Snowball purposely plants himself into the mice’s space. There’s a lot of that in this episode. He knows how to rile up Brain and hit him where it hurts, namely through Pinky.
Brain values his personal space, and he values a sense of control. When Snowball invades that space, Brain loses control, and his anger can lead him to make some very ill-informed decisions. Which is exactly what Snowball aims for.
“You think Pinky is an asset?”
“Anything I can take from you is an asset.”
Ah yes, Snowball’s mission statement. Crush everything Brain has into dust.
The flashback sequence. Dear God this flashback sequence. They were both so cute!
You know, it’s really sad that a younger Brain acted more like Pinky. Making silly faces and trying to get someone to laugh are such Pinky things to do. I know canon is loose but if you consider this flashback taking place shortly after Brain was captured from the wild, then young Brain didn���t gain a grasp on what happened to him until after the gene splicer.
Ok but Brain was literally right there when the gene splicer exploded. Imagine having your cranium size dramatically increase, you’re injured, you’ve suddenly gained sentience, and as if all that wasn’t enough, you see the gene splicer explode with your only friend inside.
Oh, and said friend’s mind was probably damaged in the explosion and now he hates your guts. And though you’re angry with him for his betrayal, some part of you will never stop caring about him.
Once again, Snowball needs to learn to keep his hands to himself.
This conversation here establishes Snowball as the perfect third character. He appears only in a handful of eps, but he’s fun to watch and love to hate. Snowball challenges the mice’s relationship. Snowball sees the weak points; the insults, the reliance on each other, and twists them to his advantage. And Pinky even admits he’s hurt by Brain’s insults occasionally, though he still loves being around him.
“Pinky, the Brain doesn’t care about you. He’s just using you.”
“No, he’s not.”
It’s really interesting to me how Pinky denies Snowball’s statement, yet his ears go down to show that he’s affected by the idea of being used. Pinky and the Brain may be night and day, but one thing they do have in common is their tendency to deny certain things. Brain with emotions and affection and Pinky with concepts he’d rather not admit the possibility of.
Coming back to this later.
Non plot related but Brain is teeny tiny and I love how he just trusts Pinky to catch him
Side note: I apologize if any of these screenshots look weird. It’s an AKOM ep.
WHY ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT SNEAKING AROUND.
I just find it hilarious how they clearly run around where Snowball can see and hear them. Like they just shout Snowball’s name in the middle of the room. You’re terrible at being sneaky little mice. Please.
Those dang boomers and their old timey 90s computers. Technology is ruining boomers. Can’t even hold a conversation anymore cause they keep looking at their screens.
No touchy!
Well, it’s awful nice of Snowball to engage in nepotism and offer Brain a position in his administration...and then tempt Pinky with an amusement park when he refuses.
You really gotta appreciate the complexity of Snowball’s plans. Stealing the chain letter fails->plant seeds of doubt in Pinky’s mind, even if this doesn’t work right off the bat, the idea will still be there-> take over a corporation->impersonate Bill Gates->When the mice show up, offer to co-rule the world on expectations that Brain will refuse->make co-ruler offer to Pinky->wait for Brain to open his big mouth and drive Pinky away.
All to take everything Brain has. His dignity, Pinky, his meager resources. Like holy Snowball, Batman.
And then Snowball reveals the amusement park he had specifically built for Pinky.
And here we have the most heartbreaking line of the ep. If I had the ability video edit I would’ve put the entire line on audio because Brain’s tone is very important here. It’s about 12:38 to 12:57 in the ep if you want to see for yourself.
“Oh, go ahead, Pinky. I don’t need you. What did you think, I just have you around so I can steal your brilliant ideas and claim them as my own? That I’m just using you, Pinky? Oh yes, I’m using you for your brilliance!”
First of all, very poor word choice, especially to someone who has trouble understanding sarcasm. I just want to dissect this statement here.
The Literal Meaning: You’re an idiot to think you were ever more than an assistant.
This is what Pinky hears.
But if you listen to Brain’s tone rather than just reading the line, he sounds genuinely hurt that Pinky would ever be tempted by something as frivolous as an amusement park. It’s Pinky, so he just sees ‘ooh fun rides, cotton candy, and carnival games’!
But Brain is perfectly aware that this is Snowball’s well-crafted method of taking away the only thing he truly has, and he knows it’s working. And he’s hurt.
The Actual Meaning: Snowball’s trying to separate us and you’re falling for it, Pinky. You may be an idiot, but many of my plans never would’ve come to fruition without you. You’re much more than an assistant. You’re my friend and my world.
Unfortunately, all Pinky hears is that Brain was only using him. That Brain values him for manual labor and an extra hand only, rather than a treasured companion. The fact that Brain often falls short of making Pinky feel appreciated just adds to this.
And now that he no longer has Pinky, Brain’s spirit is crushed. Brain is persistent, but without Pinky, he has no reason to be.
As far as he knows, his only two friends have turned their backs on him and couldn’t care less if he has nowhere else to go.
Poor thing. He needs hugs.
“I didn’t think it was possible. Humanity has actually gotten dumber.” -Brain
OK I think this one shot establishes what the world would be like under Snowball. His name is everywhere, and he tells the population to do stupid things just to bask in his own superiority.
However, I can’t see Brain putting his name on every building so frivolously like this if he ruled the world. Sure, he’d name a bunch of things after himself and Pinky, but it would be more meaningful to them.
Brain wants humanity to advance, not regress.
Poor Pinky. Despite all this new extravagance and luxury, he’s also lonely. The room and bed are large, but it lacks personality. He’s sleeping with an ACME Labs snow globe, and other than a reference to Citizen Kane, it also shows that he’s not happy with this.
The worst thing in the world for these mice is separation from each other.
Suicide by cat.
Poor little guy can’t make it on his own. Luckily, he snaps out of it.
“My world. I must save MY world!”
Said while looking at a picture of Pinky. Real subtle there Brain.
“Look, you fool. You have no brilliant ideas. I’m only using you to get at him! So just stay quiet!” -Snowball
“You’re...using me?” -Pinky
He was just a bargaining chip. Never a friend.
“What do you want?”
“My friend. And MY world!”
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
He makes martial arts noises like a dork. I love him.
I love how their characters are reflected in the mecha designs (also I had no idea Snowball was Iron Man!)
Snowball’s is overall the more efficient design. It’s also much more combat ready and violent. In comparison, Brain’s suit is simply operated with a bunch of levers. It’s alright for peaceful situations like getting around faster or simply blending with a human population, but in a straight up fight the levers take too much time to operate.
Snowball is more efficient than Brain, and while he’s got the ego, he lacks the insecurities that hold Brain back. His confidence makes him such an effective foe. And more importantly, Snowball doesn’t value Pinky’s companionship. He’s a tool and nothing more. Compare that to Brain. While Brain struggles at showing it, he ultimately wants Pinky’s input and values his jumbo-sized heart.
Somewhat off topic, but I feel like the reboot missed this aspect of Brain and made him too overly edgy and violent (reboot!Brain would probably prefer Snowball’s mecha design over his counterpart’s). The only time Brain should become violent, if not for comedy, is when he’s protecting Pinky. His plans should have a level of restraint to them, and Pinky is the moral compass.
I just like this shit-eating grin right here (I mean, he did eat shit in Welcome to the Jungle so...lol)
This is such an insanely clever move for Pinky. I feel like Brain would be like ‘oh my god Pinky!’ and then ‘wow, that’s actually brilliant what the heck is this tingling feeling’.
ACME LABS IS IN NEW YORK CITY??????
I know this is a case of Where the Hell is Springfield but gdi aren’t they supposed to be in southern California.
Ok fine I realize the ending to this ep is a reference to North by Northwest cause they somehow got to Mt. Rushmore but still
Weird tangent but North by Northwest’s ending bothers me (not gonna fault this ep as it’s just a parody)? I’m sorry the girl is barely hanging onto Mt. Rushmore, the dude pulls her up, and then they have sex in a car. The sudden transition always seemed weird to me.
I am ending this analysis post with a weird shot of Snowball cause i can and it’s his episode.
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So I’d like to open this by saying I’m autistic, and I generally operate on the presumption that I don’t understand anyone--at least, not without some investigation and interaction. Take everything I say with a grain of salt.
Recently, I’ve seen posts about an interesting paradox regarding representation; a lot of writers want to include XYZ group, but don’t want to risk doing it ‘wrong.’ Thus characters are Gay/Trans/Bi/Jewish/Islam/Black/Whatever and, yet, this is unimportant. Or we have tokenistic characters where being a member of This Group is their defining and, in fact, only character trait. Either too little, or too much. Or maybe they’re background characters, done right except for the part where they don’t affect the plot.
I think there’s a fundamental misunderstanding of representation is influencing this. We’re thinking of the group as archetype--a statue that is All Defined and we put clothes on it and make it move. But... paradoxical as it seems, being a member of a group is but one of many possible character traits. And the thing about character traits is that they affect a character, and through that influence the plot, but they rarely dominate the plot unless the plot is specifically about that character trait.
To take a fantastical and therefore somewhat obvious example: Blake Belladonna, from the Web Show RWBY, has cat ears. This is A Very Big Deal, because fantasy racism and also because she’s good at hearing things. A big part of the plot is her saying “This is how my cat ears affect me, and how having cat ears affects my parents, and how I’m reacting.” But having cat ears is not her only trait--and in fact, they’re not her defining trait.
Blake enters the series having just escaped a psychologically abusive relationship. That affects how she acts around the strangers that will become her new friends, and how she’s afraid her parents will never love her again. She’s also quite well-read, which gives her an interesting conversation with character Ruby Rose at the start of the series about fairy tales and real life. She has a ninja-like combat skill and a samurai-like sense of honor, so in situations that involve protecting others she never gives up (even if she thinks she herself isn’t worthy of love at the start of the series, see abusive relationship). And she wants to make the world a better place for a number of reasons--she’s been hurt by it, she’s hurt the world herself, and it’s just the right thing to do.
All of this, and a few other factors, combine to affect how she acts and reacts to the plot of the series. When the Fantasy Racism comes up, yes, her cat ears are important--but they don’t just snap out of existence when Yang Xiao Long says “Okay, it’s time for me to talk about my abandonment issues!” or when Cinder Fall says “My bad guy contract says I have to be malevolent now.” Blake’s ears let her hear small details, and her treatment because of them has her cautious about who to trust--very, VERY important things to the plot that, nonetheless, aren’t specifically about Cat Ear Racism.
One big example I can think of is her confrontation with her abusive ex, who at this point has just gone straight up Yandere and is blaming her for everything. The scene is not about her having cat ears--in fact, the cat ears are not at all included in all the false accusations he throws out. But, because she can hear something he doesn’t, she’s able to reposition herself and let her partner join in, dramatically shifting the direction of the scene.
The character trait affects the character’s action, and through that influences the plot. It has weight, but it’s not the only trait the character has. This is true for any character trait, no matter how fantastical or realistic.
May Marigold, from the same series, is a transgender woman. And she’s not just there to say “I need my Estrogen pills!” every four hours, but neither is her being transgender just a Neat Factoid You Find In The Manual. It influences her character--pretty clearly in one scene, where she outright states her biological relatives are no longer family--but it doesn’t mean she’s just The Trans Character. And, actually, let’s take her big speech as an example of what I mean.
Weiss: People are dying here, too. Don’t you have family in Atlas?
May: No. Mantle needed me, and to the Marigolds, that meant I wasn’t their son anymore. And I made sure that everyone knew that I wasn’t their daughter. So forget ‘em. They’ve got Henry, yours have Whitley. You get what I’m saying.
Weiss: I don’t know about-
May angrily turns to face Weiss.
May: Which side are you on, anyway?
Blake: We’ve heard that before.
May steps toward Blake to confront her, but Ruby chimes in.
Ruby: There are no sides! We want to help everyone. We’re all facing Salem together. And together is the only way we’re going to get out of it.
May: (sighs) So, how exactly do we get out of it?
As the group ponders their situation, Whitley Schnee can be seen in the hallway eavesdropping on the conversation.
The point of this scene isn’t “May is trans.” It’s that she had a very bad relationship with her biological relatives, to the point where they don’t consider each other family--and that as a result of that, she associated Atlas with all that’s wrong with the world and thinks Weiss should too, since Weiss ostensibly has a similar background. Her being transgender very clearly influences her speech, but it’s not the driving aspect of the plot. In fact, Whitley overhearing this and being compared to Henry (previously established as pretty shallow and horrible) directly causes him to affect the plot by becoming as helpful as he can. This is entirely unrelated to her being transgender, and much more related to her biological relatives being horrible people.
May is, in fact, somewhat in the wrong here--but it’s in character for her to be in the wrong, as she’s basing her choices off her own experiences. That said, she’s also got a sort of ‘cool anger’ in her speech--she’s used to people not getting why she’d be insulted (since not many people would instantly get transgenderism) and so keeps her tone calm even when she’s glaring at Weiss. It’s not until Weiss begins to directly contradict her that she snaps--again, another factor of transgender life is too many people saying ‘You sure? You could be wrong.’ This is all behavior that makes sense for a transgender person, considering their likely experiences, but applied to a subject that is not explicitly about transgenderism--in this case, whether Atlas or Mantle is more important to save from big bad Salem.
Character traits affect the characters, and through them influence the plot. But the character is never just one trait, and the plot is rarely about just one thing. May is an excellent character--she’s snarky, but willing to guide the youngsters, loyal to those who care about others, encouraging and realistic, very much a person who got saddled with too much responsibility in way too short a time and is trying her best. And she’s transgender, and that affects how she acts, both when she’s being great and when she’s slipping up.
If you want to write representation, don’t write The Whatever Character. Write a character that happens to be whatever.
#Representation#Analysis#I'm willing to admit I might be wrong on this#Like I said I don't understand people naturally#I'm just going from my experiences as a writer.#Also I'm not sure if my point is coming across?
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She-Ra Count of Monte Cristo AU
Inspired by the 2009 Count of Monte Cristo musical.
Adora is a quickly rising star among the Horde’s Force Captains, with her Lieutenant- soon to be Wife?- Catra by her side and her squad backing her up she seems unstoppable. But, this is causing friction among the more established Force Captains, who- aided by Shadow Weaver who’s begun to realize she lost control of Adora the moment she hit the field- secretly imprison her on Beast Island.
Ten years later, Catra, who was never even able to find out where Adora went, has been forced to admit that she’s dead and has settled in to working under Captain Scorpia, tentatively, finally, letting herself begin to move on.
Meanwhile, a scarred, dead-eyed woman staggers out of the Whispering Woods, dragging King Micah to the steps of Bright Moon before leaving to return to the Horde. Her name? Despara.
Plot outline below, someone else please write this fully so I don’t have to.
Chapters named for their corresponding songs in the musical.
Prologue: Glimmer POV. It’s another day of infuriating stalemate when the woman arrives, carrying a miracle on her back, her father, terribly injured but alive after twenty-five years. But there’s something off about this woman. She won’t tell anyone her name, Micah won’t wake up, and whenever anyone meets her gaze there’s something awful in her one good eye. It comes to a head when the woman breaks into her father’s sealed armoury, stealing powerful magical artifacts and escaping into the night, leaving Glimmer defeated in her wake with only a name, “Force Captain Despara.”
When Love Is True: Adora POV. Ten years prior, Catra and Adora are taking the Horde and the rest of the world by storm, practically celebrities in their own right. Adora thinks she has a way to get Catra promoted to Force Captain as well; their accomplishments have actually managed to draw the attention of Lord Hordak himself and she thinks a couple more missions might be enough to get an audience with him. The two of them talk about all the things they’ll finally be able to do unrestricted once it’s happened. There are makeouts, it’s disgustingly fluffy, and Catra teases Adora for it the whole time.
Unbeknownst to Adora, the last thing Shadow Weaver wants is for the two of them to get any more power. When they’re summoned to the Force Commander’s chamber she tries to re-establish her control over them, but Adora refuses to step aside. So close to what she thinks of as the end of their time under the witch’s thumb she refuses to let Shadow Weaver use them against each other any more. They are dismissed, unknowing that it was a final test, and Adora just failed it.
A Story Told: Force Captain Octavia POV. Three of the old-guard Force Captains, Octavia, Grizzlor, and a Lizardfolk(referred to hereon as Hyldren), have met in secret to discuss what should be done about Adora. She’s gathered too much influence too fast, the only Force Captain the rank and file love more than her is Scorpia, and no one has a better operation record, but unlike Scorpia, Adora won’t bend the knee to anyone other than Shadow Weaver. They need to figure out how to knock her down a peg.
The meeting is interrupted by Shadow Weaver, who prevents the others from trying to talk their way out of being discovered by revealing that Adora has outlived her usefulness, and she intends to do something that will either bring her to heel, or kill her. Either way, the problem will be solved.
Weeks later, they trick Catra into going ahead and capture Adora during a base transfer, making it look to like she was attacked by marauders from the Crimson Wastes on the road while they bring her to Beast Island, leaving Adora with a single flare, enchanted by Shadow Weaver to only be usable once Adora is willing to be completely subservient to her.
I Will Be There: Alternating Adora and Catra POV. Adora struggles to survive alone on Beast Island, keeping herself motivated by thinking of Catra, who she’s certain will figure out what’s happened and rescue her soon. Her first section ends with her meeting King Micah.
Cut to Catra, who is trying to find out what happened to Adora, refusing to believe that she’s gone even as she and the rest of their squad are reassigned to Scorpia. Catra manages to convince Scorpia to help her investigate, wowing Scorpia with her confidence that they can get to the bottom of it and rescue Adora, even if they have to tear the entire Crimson Waste inside out to do it.
From there the POV alternates, going through moments from the next five years where the two of them keep themselves going with thoughts of the other. Adora learning magic and how to survive on Beast Island from Micah, and Catra steadily leading Scorpia to conquer the Crimson Waste.
Every Day A Little Death: Alternating Adora and Catra POV. Adora collects injuries and scars from her struggle to survive, and every day it gets a little harder to believe anyone is coming for her. A monster blinds her in one eye, leaving an enormous scar down the side of her face and across her throat. She loses an arm in a freak accident and Micah fashions her a crude magic prosthetic that gets steadily more refined as three more years pass.
Catra’s frustration grows as they consolidate the Horde’s hold on the Crimson Waste and still no one can tell her what was done with Adora, they can’t even find anyone who remembers someone by her description. And every day it gets a little harder to believe that there’s anyone left to save.
Adora breaks when something breaks her nose and it heals straighter than it was before, realizing that at this point almost no one would recognize her even if she ever got off the island. During her breakdown she finally gets Micah to admit he’s been there for over twenty years. It sinks in that no one is coming, and she hopes the reason is that no one knows where she is.
Rage begins to take hold of her, because what reason did Shadow Weaver have to do this to her? To take her entire life from her? And she breaks Shadow Weaver’s flare in her prosthetic hand.
When The World Was Mine: Catra POV. Catra breaks when her squad, led by Scorpia, corner her after it’s become clear she’s not sleeping. She’s been lashing out and then retreating to places where she thinks no one can hear her forcing herself to calm down, her sleep schedule is erratic at best, and worst of all, she only seems to be getting worse the more false leads they have to discount. Scorpia tells her she knows what it’s like to grieve someone you aren’t ready to let go of, showing Catra the picture of her mothers. But if someone’s gone, no amount of denying it is ever going to bring them back, and all she’s doing by refusing to let herself grieve is hurting herself more.
Catra breaks down surrounded by people she has to begrudgingly admit are her friends.
The world loses some of its luster for her, it’s difficult for her to stay motivated once she’s admitted that Adora’s gone, but Scorpia helps her work through it, and by two more years later she’s back in peak form again. Quieter, sadder, but sharper and more dangerous for how she understands heartbreak now, and how to use it.
When We Are Kings: Micah POV. It’s taken two years and a lot of close calls, but Adora and Micah have managed to map out the currents and guard rotations for the area around Beast Island, and they’re ready to make their escape attempt.
The rage Adora felt has crystallized into a cold hatred, she’d been planning her return to the Horde for a decade, but now her plans are much less about taking back her life and more about punishing everyone responsible for taking it from her. And from the stories about Bright Moon and Mysticor Micah had tried to use to sway her, he’s given her everything she needs to make Shadow Weaver let her get close enough to enact her vengeance.
Micah is gravely injured in their escape attempt, and with his last words before he passes out he pleads with Adora to remember what she really wanted to get back to, to put that before her revenge. Because he can see the rage growing in her won’t be satisfied with just revenge, if she stays on this path, she’ll destroy herself, and take everything else with her just to try and feel a moment’s peace that won’t come.
Hell To Your Doorstep: Alternating Catra and Adora POV. Six months later, Scorpia’s team is reassigned back to the Fright Zone to help train the next generation of cadets, something that irks Catra, but she finds she has more of a soft spot for the kids than she thought she would.
She begins hearing rumors, however, of a newcomer Force Captain, someone rarely seen in the Fright Zone, but apparently a terror on the battlefield, a woman named Despara.
She’s surprised when she’s summoned by the woman, but Catra hasn’t lived this long by ignoring people when she doesn’t know what they were capable of.
When she first lays eyes on Despara there’s a moment where she’s familiar; it’s shorter, but her hair’s the same colour as Adora’s and she’s the same height. But then Despara turns around, smiles, and the memory is gone. Adora’s eyes were never so flat, her attention had never felt so cold, Despara’s posture is too aggressive, too predatory, and her nose is too straight. The woman’s smiles don’t reach her furious eye the way Adora’s had, she doesn’t even smell right, and to Catra’s discomfort she comes close enough that anyone would be able to smell her as she seemingly tries to make nice even as she stalks around Catra, speaking in a ragged voice likely due to whatever caused the scar across her throat.
She asks strange questions, mostly about Scorpia, and every answer seems to frustrate the Force Captain more, like she’s expecting Catra to have some secret knowledge for her that she just doesn’t. Catra leaves the meeting more confused than anything else.
Cut to Adora. She’d been hoping, so much, that Catra would recognize her. She feels stupid for thinking she would when Shadow Weaver hadn’t, when none of the people responsible for taking everything from her had, when Catra has Scorpia now. Catra had been Adora’s lifeline, and she’d moved on. She tears apart her office, the hate in her chest searing hot until she’s exhausted herself and it simmers back down into its usual cold burn. She hadn’t expected to need to add Scorpia to the list of people she is going to crush. It’s a shame, Adora had liked Scorpia, but now, all Despara can see is someone else who’s stolen from her.
She plans, and the hate in her heart digs deeper.
Ah, Women: Despara(Adora) POV. Despara bides her time, though she finds herself gravitating back to the Fright Zone more and more often to watch Catra with the cadets. One catches her attention, a magicat child named Finn she sees trailing after another recruit with a familiar expression in their eyes. The same she knows used to be in hers when she looked at Catra.
Something of Adora responds the sight, so she waits until training is over one day and takes them aside under the pretense of interviewing them for inclusion in her squad. She asks them about their squad, who they’d need to come with them if they were to be assigned to a Force Captain, and lets herself be Adora- if only in her mind- for a bit while they gush about their friends. Thinking about how best to help this child instead of her revenge for a moment is almost invigorating, but it’s over too soon. When she brings Finn back to the Barracks she catches Catra watching her, eyes suspicious and accusing, protective of her cadet. Despara’s walls come right back up; this isn’t for her anymore, Adora would have been able to help look after them, Despara has no use for them.
I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead: Catra POV. Despara has been hanging around the edges, haunting the barracks like a vengeful specter, it sets Catra’s teeth on edge. She’s only seen Despara soften once, around Finn, but she remembers how the hard edges had come right back when she’d noticed Catra watching, remembers how Shadow Weaver used softness against Adora, so that only makes her warier, makes her ensure the woman doesn’t have the chance to get Finn alone again.
Her next full confrontation with Despara comes months later, during a sparring demonstration with Scorpia. The woman barges in, the cold in her eye burning with rage, and demands to spar with the other Force Captain.
As the two spar, Catra starts noticing little things in the way Despara moves in a fight; her precision, the steps she takes before she makes a strike, the specific way she braces herself before a block. Catra finds herself almost anticipating Despara’s moves before she makes them and a hope she’d buried deep starts to stir as Despara, for all her vicious determination, is slowly overwhelmed by Scorpia’s experience and size advantage.
She asks Scorpia to tag in, she needs to know.
Sparring against Despara is like slipping back into an old, favourite bed, like coming home; she can hardly believe it, and from the way Despara’s good eye softens, neither can she. It’s not long before they’re dancing the same dance they used to, each so familiar with the other’s movements and tactics that they could spar uninterrupted for hours without a winner. Catra looks at Adora, hard and angry but her Adora, back from the dead after ten years, and the cold in her good eye- what had happened to Her Adora’s eyes? Where had the fire in them gone? Why didn’t her smiles reach them anymore? What made her move like she’d never been Catra’s?- melts.
Catra breathes her name and after a desperate, yearning moment where Adora leans in, Despara’s walls come back up in an instant, the cold fury breaking their stalemate as she pounces with surprising ferocity. The battle becomes pitched, each of them trying to get back on the offensive, Catra refusing to let Adora retreat behind Despara again, and Despara refusing to let Catra back in.
Eventually, Despara lands a blow, winning the spar, and as they stand there, panting with exertion, the hate in Despara’s gaze solidifies again. “You moved on,” she accuses Catra, turning on her heel before Catra can recover from the shock.
In many ways, Catra doesn’t recover, not until Scorpia manages to shoo the cadets away and find Catra somewhere safe to break down again.
Pretty lies: Alternating Despara and Catra POV. Despara goes back into the field for a time, carving her way across the front lines to try and bury the parts of Adora that dancing with Catra had stirred up from their places. Meanwhile, Catra tries to settle back into her life before she realized that Adora was here, was hurting so badly all alone.
Eventually someone steps forward to challenge Despara directly during a raid, and as Despara steps forward, glad to have someone to direct the wildfire under her skin at, he reveals himself to be Micah. Despara is shocked, she’d only brought him to Bright Moon out of courtesy for how he’d helped her, she never thought he’d actually survive his injuries. Then he calls her Adora, and she resolves to do what Beast Island couldn’t.
Intersperse cutaways to Catra confiding in Scorpia, telling her about how Adora used to be, the light in her eyes, her determination, how kind and honorable she could be even when it was infuriating, their plans for the future, how Catra had wanted to wake up wrapped in Adora’s warmth every day for the rest of her life. The gentle memories contrasting with cuts back to Despara attacking Micah like a woman possessed, like something feral and unstoppable as he tries fruitlessly to talk to her.
Micah and Despara’s fight ends in a draw, but Micah reveals that while he’d been hoping to get through to her he was also keeping her occupied while the Rebellion drove the rest of the Horde away and Despara is forced to retreat.
Meanwhile, Catra resolves to try and rescue Adora, one last time.
All This Time: Catra POV. Despara returns to the Fright Zone in a downright incandescent rage, and Catra finds herself horrified by how she seems somehow even less like Adora with that kind of fire in her eye. But she still goes to her, she has to try, just once.
Despara almost seems frightened of her, the rage struggling to stay on the surface when Catra confronts her. After a little pushing, Despara agrees to let Catra stay with her for the night, to hold each other close like they used to. There’s something of Adora in the way Despara hesitates to touch her, though it’s different now, less like she’s waiting for permission and more like she’s worried Catra’s fur might burn her.
Despara doesn’t melt back into Adora in her arms like Catra had hoped, like she’d seen when they sparred, but it’s progress, and Despara sleeps better than she has in a decade.
The next morning Despara almost seems excited, she tells Catra that her plan is finally going to be ready, that she can finally take her revenge on Shadow Weaver, Octavia, Grizzlor, and Hyldren. For the first time in six months all the Force Captains will be in the same place, now all she needs is to make her move on Shadow Weaver.
As Despara’s trap snaps shut around Shadow Weaver, turning her own magic back against her, Catra can only watch the sick glee on Despara’s face as Shadow Weaver’s screams echo through the chamber, her heart starting to break with how there isn’t even a trace of Adora in that expression. Shadow Weaver subdued, Despara plucks the shard of the Black Garnet from her mask, leaving the Sorceress barely alive in her lair as she slots the gem into her prosthetic, red lightning flashing along it.
Despara doesn’t even seem to notice how Catra flinches at the sight of the magical electricity.
Next are the Force Captains, gathered up in a conference room, Despara enters and slams her prosthetic hand into one of the walls, igniting the spell circle covering the room and channeling the Black Garnet’s lightning through it.
Catra can’t let her do it, Despara was going to torture an entire room of people to death, was going to kill Scorpia, just to get at three of them. Adora would never have done this, if there was ever a moment to try and save her it was now. She pulls her away from the room, breaking her connection to the spell circle.
They fight, Despara utterly blinded by her rage at having been so close to finalizing her revenge and having it denied for even a moment. It’s not the dance of their spar, it’s brutal and grinding, Despara throwing every spell and power she’s learned or stolen into taking Catra down, Catra barely able to keep ahead of it until finally Despara catches her around the throat, baring Shadow Weaver’s gem and preparing to pump every bit of lightning she can conjure into Catra.
Catra tells her to do it, that she’d rather die than have to keep watching Adora be this.
Despara braces herself for the kill, to shed the last trace of her weakness, and Adora can’t do it.
The Man I Used To Be: Adora POV. She can’t do it. Adora drops Catra, tears gathering in her eyes as she shoves Shadow Weaver’s gem out of her arm like it’s burning her. She stumbles away to collapse against a wall, wide-eyed and panting.
She’d been about to kill her, she’d been about to kill Catra the same way she’d spent her whole life terrified Shadow Weaver would. She’d been trying to kill Micah and Scorpia, who’d only ever been kind to her. The cold hatred’s claws around her heart hurt, she’d used them to hold it together, keep it from breaking apart in her chest, but she could feel it, she’d been about to let them crush her.
Catra starts to get up and Adora shatters.
She runs, doesn’t want to see the way Catra had looked at her again. She runs until she’s left the Fright Zone behind, until her legs won’t hold her anymore and then further, until she trips and falls, curling up as small as she can to try and hide.
Catra doesn’t let her, after making sure Scorpia and the others were going to be alright she’s tracked her down. Catra gathers Adora up in her arms and Adora hesitates, but this time it’s right, this time it’s because she can’t believe Catra would let her touch, not because she’s afraid she won’t be able to hold onto the rage in Catra’s arms. Then Catra tells her it’s alright and Adora stops trying to put herself back together, crying as she clings to Catra’s arms around her.
Not 100% on how it would wrap up after that, but I’ve got a vague idea of them going back to the Horde, rescuing the cadets and moving off to live in the Whispering Woods, trying to find these kids’ families to return them. Maybe Micah shows up and is grateful to Catra for helping Adora pull herself back from the brink? I dunno, this sprang fully formed from my brain six hours ago.
#spop#She-Ra#Adora#Catra#Catradora#Maybe a little Scortra?#Mostly I just see them as really good friends in this AU#And Adora jumps to conclusions because she's /absolutely livid/#My work notes#Count of Monte Cristo AU#Prompt#Someone take this off of my hands please I BEG OF YOU#Let Adora be furious 2021
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Tbh I have no idea how people unironically say RWBY is about trust and how good it is to trust when people have literally had their trust betrayed leading to horrible things in SEVEN major plot points.
Number 1. Before the start of the show, Blake trusted in and believed in Adam, her mentor and (likely romantic) partner. Blake's trust in him was broken, as he went too far and started down a destructive and likely abusive path. This made it incredibly hard for Blake to trust anyone again, which is only made worse as Adam comes back into her life in an incredibly traumatic way, stabs her, cuts off the arm of her friend, and tries to behead her. Adam continues to be a major threat to her and her loved ones for months after, until she is forced to kill him in self defense. Blake's trust in Adam was proved to be wrong, and he hurt her and others.
Number 2. Ruby's trust in her friend Emerald - as well as Mercury and Cinder who were more acquaintances - was broken in an incredibly traumatic way. After discovering that Mercury was faking being injured and had lied about Ruby's beloved sister, he cheerfully stops her from saving Penny, who Emerald orchestrates the death of, and Ruby makes it past him only in time to see her dead, dismembered friend's body. Then Cinder purposefully causes a violent attack leading to the deaths of likely hundreds or more people and murders Pyrrha right in front of Ruby. Emerald, Mercury, and Cinder become central antagonists that the group sees again in Haven, who laugh and jeer about the deaths of their loved ones and almost kill Weiss. Ruby's trust in Emerald and her team was proved to be wrong, and they hurt her and others. Number 3. Leo Lionheart was a trusted member of Oz's inner circle and friend to him and Qrow. Although they (and Ironwood,) are all on edge over recent sketchy actions he's taken, Qrow and Oz give him the benefit of the doubt and Qrow even drops potentially dangerous information about Raven having the Spring Maiden. Lionheart has been working with Salem for a while, however, having gotten many of the Hunters in Mistral killed and having knowingly let Cinder infiltrate Beacon and cause the Fall. He gives this info to Salem and let's her operatives into Haven to capture children, kill children, and specifically murder Qrow - his friend and ally - and even tries to fight and kill, himself. The group trusted Leo, and it was proved to be wrong, and he hurt them and others. This betrayal clearly affects the whole group, but prominently Oz, who says Leo is not the first to betray him and uses it as another reason behind his own lack of trust in the group of teenage protagonists, which leads us to...
Number 4. In season 6 it's revealed that Salem and Oz had once been very close and romantic, but after a lot of stuff I can't take the energy to write out, Salem had changed for the worse, had lied and manipulated him, and started down a dark path he couldn't stand behind. When he tried to leave her with their kids, she exploded and murdered him and caused the deaths of their four young children. Since she couldn't die and Oz always reincarnated, this started a vicious cycle of Salem hunting down, hurting, and murdering him at every chance she got while she also tried to destroy the whole world and Ozpin tried in growing desperation to stop her and keep the world safe. Salem's actions caused great trauma that Oz has been clearly shown to have never fully healed from. She's the direct cause for his fears, paranoia, and isolation. His trust in Salem was proven to be wrong, and she hurt him and others. Number 5. Oz lied to the main cast several times and kept things hidden from them, and even after he swore not to keep any more secrets, he lied to them again. Despite Oz's problems being highly sympathetic, the show clearly intended us to think of this as a betrayal, framing the action as unquestioningly wrong, the complete lack of sympathy of our main cast being entirely unquestioned, and with doubt still being cast on Oz two seasons after. It's clear, however, that even though it’s sympathetic and understandable, Oz caused the others emotional pain through his actions, and the show intended to show us that Ruby and her team's trust in Ozpin was misplaced. Number 6. Ironwood showed major trust in the main characters, dropping charges against them and stopping them from being arrested, telling them all his plans immediately, letting them keep the Relic, giving them their Hunter licenses, sending them on high security missions, and listening to (and sometimes adhering to) their advice or concerns. But Team RWBY betrays him first by lying to him about crucial information (which he actually forgives iirc) and then by going behind his back to aid a vigilante who was stealing much needed supplies and telling her incredibly sensitive and dangerous government high security secrets. And then they never told him about it. Ironwood's trust in the protagonists was proven to be misplaced, and... Yeah, since Blake and Yang more or else helped Robyn get away with stealing supplies that were needed to finish Amity, their actions hurt James and others. Number 7. The Ace Ops and Penny trusted in Ironwood. The show had already framed Penny as having her trust broken by Ironwood when he decided to save the many while leaving the few, which the audience was meant to see as the evil option, but after that, Ironwood worked with a criminal to hack into and control her body and then threatens to bomb the remaining people of Mantle who Penny wants to protect. The Ace Ops and Winter agreed with Ironwood's choice to save Atlas and the already evacuated people of Mantle at the cost of the remaining few city blocks, but were clearly perturbed when he stopped saving as many as he could, and started actively killing whoever he wanted. And meanwhile, Oz himself was also betrayed by this turn of events, making it the second person in his very small inner circle to directly try to murder him. He clearly doesn't need any more reasons to think trusting people is something he doesn't have the luxury of. Oz, Penny, and the Ace Ops' trust in Ironwood was proven to be wrong, and he hurt them and others. And that hurt to type lol.
It's just all very strange. For a show that supposedly is meant to make you believe in the goodness of trust, there's certainly a lot of betrayal, back stabbing, lying, and mistrusting. There's something to be said about shows where bad things happen over and over and our main characters must struggle to continue to be good and trusting still even after they've been taken advantage of... But RWBY is not that, because the main protagonists themselves lie, mistrust, and betray, and the show frames that as good, letting us know Ruby was one hundred percent right and writing in fan favorites berating the people who question that, while they have Ironwood kicking puppies and shouting irrationally to remind us that Ruby's instinct of mistrust was completely good and right. I honestly can't take it seriously. RWBY's messages are juvenile at best, but this one was just severely ill handled. When I say that RWBY has a problem with 'Show Don't Tell' this is one of the things I mean. They didn't construct a narrative where Ruby and her team rise above cynicism, trust in others, and get the good consequences of not being frequently betrayed - thus showing the benefits of trusting and relying on others. They didn't even construct a gritty, sad, but ultimately hopeful narrative, where Ruby and co push through disappointment and betrayals and decide every day to continue to hold onto their morals of giving people the benefit of the doubt and offering redemption. What CRWBY did was construct a narrative where it seems like people would be stupid to keep putting their trust in each other, where it seems likely that anyone could be secretly evil next, and where it seems like the protagonists just don't have to adhere to any rules or standards and will be framed as right and congratulated no matter how they act or who they themselves hurt. And then we're told that the show is about trust, and Trust Love, and how your feelings will always lead you in the right direction despite being shown the opposite. I don't get it at all.
I don't feel like RWBY has anything to do with trust anymore.
#rwde#rwby hate#anti rwby#anti team rwby#anti ironwood#pro ironwood#I feel like I need to tag both anti and pro#because I talk about what the show had him become#but I think it's clear I hate it
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Making this its own post because replying to the ask got so weirdly formatted I can’t even. Oh tumblr. You work so well.
@themessofthecentury asked:
jsksjf my tumblr notifs are bugging and i didnt see your post but!!! The patron Saint of Robins?? I am much intrigue!!
(This is from this ask game, just....gotten to late, lololol. And I still have more I’m getting to, no worries. Just had a rough couple days is all, laid me up a bit.)
Okay, so The Patron Saint of Robins is kinda like the situation at the end of Grayson, except also not at all. And actually this is one of my older WIPs, and according to Scrivener I started it in 2015 afhislfhalhfalf, so it really has nothing to do with that. Also, its Young Justice-verse, but for two specific reasons:
1) YJ-verse is my go-to for Good Dad Bruce Wayne, when I don’t want to actually tackle the issues I have with his and his kids’ dynamic in comic book canon. I don’t carry over things like the adoption issue or the Robin succession into YJ fics, as I don’t think there’s anything that suggests they’re ever a specific issue in YJ and I don’t feel a need to make them one. So pretty much anything and everything I write in YJ goes with the backstory that Dick’s already adopted by Season One, and he’s the one to grant each later Robin permission to use the mantle, with no conflict over that, and more of a pre-Crisis transition to Nightwing than the post-Crisis firing from Robin. And this fic inherently needs Good Dad Bruce Wayne to work, lol.
2) I needed Klarion the Witch-Boy. Who of course exists in comic book canon, but is muuuuuch different there, and I just needed him to be a little demonic evil shithead, who sets everything in motion to get payback on the heroes for thwarting the Light in Season One, and he targets Robin due to being the oft-cited ‘first of the baby brat heroes’ and the ‘heart of the cape community.’
You don’t really need to be familiar with YJ canon at all for this one, as it goes sharply AU from after Season One, and only faintly and vaguely references specific events from that season. And I use my own YJ-ized version of the Titans as much as the actual YJ Team.
So basically, the plot of this one is to take revenge on the heroes for spoiling his game in Season One, Klarion plays a new game, by putting a chaos curse on Robin. It essentially erases him from peoples’ memories, though he’s perfectly able to make new ones. If he re-introduces himself to someone ask Dick Grayson, for instance, they don’t suddenly remember who Dick Grayson is or was, but they don’t forget about him again from that point onward, its like they meet him for the first time as a stranger.
But the curse part of things is only Batman can break it and restore everyone’s memories of Dick and his actual history, and only by identifying him for who he really is. And Dick can’t be part of breaking his own curse or else it seals it and makes it permanent and unbreakable forever.
Which of course leaves Dick completely miserable at first, understandably, and Bruce (and everyone else Dick knows, to varying different degrees) feeling some kind of loss but with no idea what it is they think or feel that they’re missing. Dick makes some half-hearted attempts at starting a new life for himself in Gotham, and in the process befriends a street kid named Jason Todd, though Dick introduces himself to Jason with just the name Robin.
The way the curse operates is it restitches together peoples’ memories to cover up the gaps where memories of him would go. So for instance, even though Jason never knew Dick before the curse, he was familiar with Batman and Robin just as much as any Gothammite was.....but due to the curse, the name Robin, upon meeting Dick, had no special meaning to him or anyone else. As far as he knew, Batman had always operated on his own in Gotham, the first teen superhero was that Speedy kid in Star City, etc. So when Jason first meets Dick, he just thinks he’s some dude whose name happens to be Robin.
Eventually, because Dick’s been kinda torturing himself by spying on Bruce just to ‘keep an eye on him’ and still watch his back, and he’s recognized by now that Bruce is mourning his loss without even knowing that he’s missing something....so Dick, who has also kinda come to see Jason as a little brother figure due to watching out for him as well....decides to kill two birds with one stone, unfortunate pun not intended. (Jason doesn’t die in this one, lol). Basically, Dick puts in motion the chain of events that lead Jason to stealing Batman’s tires, because he doesn’t know EXACTLY what Bruce will do but he knows it’ll get his attention in a big way and Bruce will take it from there.
One thing leads to another, Jason ends up living with Bruce and when eventually he wants to be trained by Bruce so he can do what he does and protect kids like he used to be.....when asked to pick a name....Jason names himself after the guy who always looked out for him, and who led to him being found by Bruce in the first place. He doesn’t know that his friend ‘Robin’ steered him towards those tires deliberately, just to bring him and Bruce into contact, but he does credit him with making the suggestion that ‘inadvertently’ (as far as he knows) enabled his and Bruce’s introduction, and so he names himself in honor of the boy who helped him and who he tried to track down again to similarly help, after Bruce adopted him, but was never able to find again.
Over the years, Dick also ends up steering Tim, Cass, Duke and Damian to Bruce in different ways than comic book canon (Steph and Babs’ debuts remain their own, as family adjacent but not family specifically) and thus is integral to the forming of the Batfam and has a connection with them even before the curse ultimately ends up broken and he’s able to reclaim his full identity. And each of them end up Robin at least briefly, like Steph is never Robin in this AU, and sticks with Spoiler, whereas Cass IS briefly Robin before becoming Batgirl after Babs. I did this for a few different reasons...
One, I really like that Cass is never Robin in main continuity as it creates a different dynamic between her and Dick than most of their siblings have, BUT I’ve always been curious to play around what Cass-as-Robin might even be like, just for an AU. Two, part of the Black Bat and Batgirl but never Robin sequence of mantles for Cass in the comic book continuity is like.....although it doesn’t get explored nearly enough, Babs was as much a kind of mother figure for Cass as Bruce was a father figure, despite Babs’ young age. So it makes more sense for Cass to stick more to just Bat-mantles than to ever be a Robin in the comic books. But in YJ, Babs is even younger, and just way too young to have the specific kind of dynamic that leads to that in the comic books, so its not as unreasonable IMO for her to have a different dynamic in her early days in the family here, before becoming closer with Babs and taking up the Batgirl mantle after she moves on to become Oracle.
And then also, and this is also the primary reason for making Duke a Robin briefly, before Damian is old enough....I got hung up on the title and it just didn’t work as well if it was Robins + Cass and Duke, lololol. See, in addition to helping steer the family into the points of introduction that make them a family, over the years he also acts as like, a guardian angel figure to the various family members, looking out for them and interceding in times of extreme danger, like when Jason is almost killed by the Joker. He’s always in disguise, but the kids eventually compare notes and realize there’s a singular figure behind each of their introductions to Bruce and the guy swooping out of nowhere to save their behinds whenever they’re most in danger, and Jason eventually connects this back to the guy who apparently NOT so coincidentally suggested he go after the Batmobile’s tires that fateful night, and the kids end up jokingly/not-so-jokingly referring to this figure as the Patron Saint of Robins. (Shout-out to the occasional mentions/allusions of Jason’s Catholicism).
They never tell Bruce about this figure (at least before Bruce starts to put together clues on his own), because they all figured out that for whatever reason, this person despite wanting them all to meet Bruce seems to want to avoid Bruce himself, and they kinda want to respect that as a kind of payback for his help, and also like....Bruce, even a kinder, gentler Bruce, is still Bruce. And when Bruce is gonna Bruce, that means Batparanoia. And all of them for various reasons DO trust that this guy has nothing but good intentions towards them, and so they don’t want to like....ruin or tarnish the positivity they associate with his intercession in their lives with paranoia or treating him like a bad guy. Which ultimately is really just smoke and mirrors for saying that he’s kinda a ‘just for them’ secret. Its a Robin thing.
(Until its not).
Because meanwhile, Dick, in between meeting the various Batfam members and pulling strings and looking out for them from the shadows, at first travels the world looking for ways to break his curse. But when ultimately its clear that the only way to break it is the loophole built into it already, Bruce identifying him for who he really is, but without Dick doing anything to steer him towards the answer, Dick settles into a new hero identity as Nightwing, and forms the Teen Titans, a public group of young superheroes (minus Roy and Wally, unfortunately, but still with Donna, Garth, Raven, Kory, ignoring season 3 Vic and also Terra because AU redemption arc what what, etc). And the Teen Titans avoid both the Young Justice Team and the Justlce League with EXTREME measures, much to the other heroes’ confusion and aggravation, because in the early days of the Titans, in a moment of what he’d term weakness, on one of his ‘bad days,’ Dick tells them enough of his story that they’re able to put together a good sense of what happened and who he really is by reading between the lines and what he leaves unsaid....
BUT as a result, all end up extremely committed to not mixing and mingling casually with the rest of the cape community because they don’t want to risk dropping any hints about the guy under Nightwing’s mask, in case that might count as steering Batman towards clues and seal the curse for good. So I have a lot of fun with having the Titans just nope out of the scene the second the bad guys are defeated even when they have to team up with other heroes, leaving the other heroes confused as hell and trying not to be all ‘WHY DON’T YOU LIKE US??”
Anyway, so yeah, that’s the gist of this one, lol. With it of course following the eventual plot that like...the Batfam starts to Detect and put things together.
ANYWHO!
Snippet
Damian versus Klarion: Round One
“Aww, its adorable that you think you’re in my league,” the Witch-Boy cooed in an absolute mockery of sympathy. Damian bristled, but before he could do anything more than that, he was faced with a much more pressing matter as reality completely lost its mind.
The walls of the cavern fell away in an instant, only to be replaced with a whirling dervish of winds all around them, as if they now stood in the center of a cyclone that bled red and silver and black. It shrieked and wailed in a chorus of voices just on the other side of being comprehensible, a symphony of the damned that set every nerve in Damian’s body aflame with a primal instinct to get out, to find silence, to be anywhere but here.
He’d barely staggered a step backwards when the ground erupted beneath him, splitting apart into jagged obsidian shards that bobbed precariously in the sea of magma barely glimpsed through cracks now spiderwebbing their way across the floor. Spears of lightning burst upwards through them, stabbing impossibly at the heavens rather than raining down from them. They hissed and crackled as they flickered like forked serpent tongues of electric violet and black. The forks becoming branches, the pillars of sky-shattering light transforming into the trunks of great trees that grew upwards and outward, weaving a canopy overhead. One that wept violently red leaves that fell gently to the ground, only to hiss and bubble like acid once they did.
“See, normally this is when I’d hit someone with a little razzle-dazzle like this,” Klarion called out over the song of madness he’d created, as it crooned and careened wildly all around them. He snapped his fingers, and in the span of a second it all ceased. Reality reaffirmed itself, and all was right with the world once more…except now the two of them stood at the end of a hallway in Wayne Manor.
Damian stumbled, the sudden reappearance of firm ground paradoxically being the thing to challenge his balance. The demon boy standing beside him crooked his thumb and forefinger in the semblance of a gun, the smile pasted across his face one of wickedly gleeful malice.
“But you, kiddo, you’re special. Cuz there’s nothing I could do to you now that could top what I’ve already done, so why try when I can just savor the moment instead?”
“What are you babbling about?” Damian demanded roughly. In the wake of what the Witch-Boy had just conjured up with nothing more than a gesture, he was keenly aware of how flimsy a shield his bravado made. He just had absolutely no idea what else to fall back on.
Klarion only threw back his head and laughed though, skipping merrily down the hall as he did.
“I know something you don’t know,” he sing-songed and Damian lost what little grasp of his patience he’d managed to hang onto.
“You overestimate my need for an answer. Attempt to intimidate me all you wish, but I have no desire to indulge your little game any further.”
Klarion jerked to a stop and spun around, his face screwed into a childish pout. He stomped his foot, petulance personified. “I’m not intimidating you anymore, I’m gloating! Ugh, you’re so stupid! They’re completely different, how can you not tell?”
Every light in the hallway flickered and fizzed abruptly. The walls wavered, bubbled, momentarily molten as if made of wax.
Again Damian was reminded just how mercurial this being he was faced with was, and how dangerous. Perhaps, as Father would say, this was not the time to indulge his own instinctive inclinations. Or as Todd would put it, just because you’re already fucked, that’s no reason to fuck yourself over more than you have to.
Crude as his older brother was, there was occasional merit to his…pithiness. Not that he would be admitting that any time soon, of course.
“Fine. What is it you wish to gloat about then?” Damian grated out. The appeasement, such as it was, tried its best to stick in his throat before finally clawing its way free. But at least it proved worth the effort when the godling’s mood reverted back to impishness as readily as with the flip of a switch.
“Well. Its like this, you see.” Klarion said. He dragged it out as he folded both legs underneath him to sit cross-legged in the air, plopping his head into his hands. “I did a baaaaaaaaaaaaad, bad thing to your family, a loooooong time ago. And none of you have done anything about it, because you don’t even know! Isn’t that funny? Doesn’t matter how big a hero Daddy Bats is if he doesn’t even know what needs saving huh? Little Catch-22 there, you might say.”
“Yes. Quite hysterical,” Damian said dryly. “So what is it you claim to have done then?”
The Witch-Boy just sat there, regarding him with amusement, and the seconds marched on into minutes. Damian’s skin crawled. Prickling with impatience and possibly something…more. He wasn’t quite ready to name it anxiety or something as melodramatic as all that yet. In fact, he’d rather not put a name to it at all, but today did not appear to be a day for configuring things to his liking.
Klarion’s wicked grin grew as if sensing his thoughts, though to the best of his knowledge (and Damian did quickly ransack the library of his memory just to be sure) there was no indication telepathy was included among the Chaos Lord’s many, many powers. And still that detestable smile stretched slowly wider all the same, in perfect synchronization with the rising tide of Damian’s unease. Perhaps the Witch-Boy’s file was in need of annotation.
“How many doors would you say are in this hallway?”
“What? Seven.” Damian snapped out his answer, annoyed by the non sequitur. Not to mention baffled. Was it too much to expect even a semblance of linear thought from the Chaos brat?
“Are you suuuuuuure?” The Witch-Boy stretched his query out obnoxiously. “Maybe you should count again. Just for kicks and giggles.”
Damian throttled back each and every retort attempting to spring to his lips, stuffing them back down and cramming a lid on everything he most dearly wished to say to this most vexing of…shitheads. Once again, it appeared as though nothing less than Todd’s preferred form of nomenclature would suffice. Wonderful. On top of everything else Damian had to deal with today, he seemed to be finding common ground with the man all over the place. Was there no end to the indignities he must suffer?
But marshaling his own formidable willpower, Damian took a deep breath and indulged the Chaos Lord, glancing his eyes down the length of the hallway and counting out each doorway one by one. There was his own room of course, with Cassandra’s to the right of his, and the room Brown used when staying over to the right of hers. That was three. Then there was Thomas directly across from his own room, with Drake to his right and Todd just beyond that, with Father’s room at the very end of the hall, his master suite staggered and with no direct opposite like the others. Seven.
Except all of a sudden there was a door directly opposite his father’s. For a total of eight.
Damian’s brow furrowed in consternation. The faint whispers of uncertainty already seeded throughout him bore fruit, ripening into poisonous stabbings of doubt.
“That’s not real,” he stated with as much conviction as he could muster.
The Witch-Boy’s smile only grew wider still. “Isn’t it, though?”
“There’s never been a door there before,” Damian persisted, striding confidently down the hall towards it. The Chaos Lord flitted ahead of him, inverting til he was upside down and skipping merrily once more, though this time from the ceiling.
“Or has it been there all along?” He sing-songed some more.
“I would think we might have noticed if it had been,” Damian growled.
“Yes, you’d think, wouldn’t you? You are all supposed to be a family of detectives, I thought. Makes you wonder…if you could miss this, what else might you have failed to notice?”
Damian snarled to himself and did his best to shut out the demon boy’s prattling. He quickened his strides, eating up the length of the hallway in his haste to reach its end. He wasn’t sure what opening the door would prove, let alone what bewilderment the godling had conjured on its other side, but it appeared the only end to this game of his was through it, so let there be an end to it already.
And yet, for all his certainty - or best facsimile of it - he couldn’t help but pause once he reached the door in question. His hand hovered within reach of its brass knob, but some instinct, some…caution, held him at bay. As much as he wanted to dismiss all this as just one more of the Chaos Lord’s inane charades, there was a tension in the air that felt too weighty to be the product of just magical conjuring. Something more was in play here. Real forces were at work. His father might disdain magic, but Damian had been around enough of it himself to know when true power had been raised. And the span of empty space between his hand and this hither-to-unseen doorknob held more of it than Damian had felt throughout all the mad warpings Klarion had made of reality thus far.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Klarion asked from somewhere overhead. His voice, usually pitched to carry, was so soft for a moment Damian mistook it for his own inner doubts. “Some doors are easier to open than to close again, you know.”
Even knowing the goading for what it was couldn’t stop Damian then, and with a simple breath to fortify himself, he reached for the knob, spun it once, and shoved the door open all in a single sharp movement.
The Witch-Boy giggled up above.
The door swung wide, a forceful arc that should have revealed anything and everything within it all at once; the better to react quickly to whatever that might be. Fine in principle, perfect in execution, but thwarted by one small detail:
There was nothing on the other side.
And not in the sense of it being just an empty room, but true nothingness. A pitch-black abyss darker than the deepest night, yawning forth from the doorway in a vast, impenetrable shroud. Nor was anything hidden in the darkness, Damian knew, even if just intuitively. He could feel it, that he stood on the edge of an impossible cliff, that there was nothing beyond this threshold but an aching chasm of emptiness and loss. The surety of it hung in the air, thick and heavy, a miasma that seeped through to his side of the doorway and clung to him like the moisture of a fog beads upon the skin.
Klarion’s head suddenly popped up alongside him, hovering just over his shoulder.
Albeit still upside down.
“Well that doesn’t seem right,” he mused, tapping at his lips with a forefinger. “What do you suppose is meant to be in there?”
The last of Damian’s brittle patience shattered.
“Enough! What is the meaning of all this, demon? Speak plainly, for once in your miserable existence!”
His self-preservation instincts and the reminder of just who it was he was shouting at kicked in too little too late, but he wouldn’t take his exasperated fury back even if he could. He was who he was after all. But fortunately, that described the Witch-Boy just as accurately, and rather take offense or perceive any actual threat from Damian’s rage, the Chaos Lord just shrieked with laughter and sprung backwards. He flipped right side up, still hovering in mid-air, and clapped his hands with glee.
“Oh, I should have done this ages ago,” Klarion sang out. “Why, you’re almost as fun as he used to be. Back before he got all droll and serious, that is. He’s no fun at all anymore, nothing like this. Never wants to play, always just running back to his tower with that little bitch of a demoness.”
His face soured like he’d just sucked on a lemon. But rather than stop there, his countenance kept morphing into an increasingly savage scowl, the longer he ranted. The hallway was suddenly sweltering, baking with unseen heat that twisted the air into shimmering ribbons. The small horns sprouting from his forehead burst into scimitars of flame that cut through those ribbons and set them similarly ablaze.
“Always putting on airs like she’s some kind of royalty, just because her Daddy Dearest put the fear into a few peasants back in the day,” the Witch-Boy snarled viciously. “As if that’s enough to put her on par with the likes of me. No one is the likes of me. NO ONE!”
Reality itself quaked with the force of his shout. White-blue flames spat forth and crescendoed down the length of the corridor, splashing against its walls and searing them to a crisp. Damian braced himself for all the good it would do, keenly aware of the void still gaping hungrily behind his back, but before the fire could become an actual danger to him as well, all was quiet once more.
Silence hung in the air much like the demon boy, poised yet motionless. Suspended. Waiting.
And then Klarion simply inhaled and brushed his hands down the front of his garments, smoothing out the wrinkles as he reclaimed his calm. The corridor restored itself to its former self, curtains of vintage reality unrolling from the ceiling to the floor as though papering over the damage. Damian felt rather than saw when the portal behind him swung shut and was replaced with the expanse of ivory paint and ornate sconces he was used to seeing in its place.
“I am one of a kind, after all,” Klarion finally remarked. It was a casual drawl offered forth almost off-handedly, as if more a reminder to himself than uttered for anyone else’s sake. He used one hand to spell out letters in the air. They appeared and vanished again in bursts of fireworks and fluorescent flame. “U-N-I-Q-U-E.”
“As I, apparently, am not,” Damian said, seizing upon the Chaos Lord’s restored calm and good cheer. “Who is this ‘he’ you mentioned? If I’m to be pitted against him as entertainment in your eyes, might I at least know his name?”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” the Witch-Boy scolded. He wagged his finger at Damian. “No spoilers. That’s not how the game is played.”
Keenly aware of the boy’s power once more, Damian gritted his teeth and pressed on. “Well, if there are to be rules, shouldn’t I at least know what those are?”
Klarion sucked in a deep breath, drawing himself up along with his inhalation as though preparing for some great speech…and instead just toppling backward, flopping onto an extravagant fainting couch that suddenly appeared beneath him, though similarly floating in the air.
“I can’t recall at the moment.” His now-faint voice drifted up from where he lay buried amid a mountain of pillows. “I’ve had a terribly exhausting day. But you’re supposed to be a detective, remember? Go…I don’t know. Detect things.”
He flapped an arm at Damian dismissively, and then crooked a finger into a twirling motion that set his divan to spinning in lazy circles.
“Isn’t life grand?” Klarion sighed fondly. “With all its twists and turns, its eddies and swirls. I mean, take the two of us. Scant hours ago, we were mortal enemies, and just look at us now.”
The Witch-Boy lazily rolled his head to the side as the couch drifted to bring him face-to-face with Damian. His lips spread wide in that malevolent, wicked grin of his once again, but somehow it managed to be even wider than any he’d shown off before. His eyes blazed with a hellish inner light, and his voice, when next he spoke, dropped deep into a demonic register. A bass that boomed forth and set Damian’s very bones to rattling.
“Ain’t we got fun?”
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Hi again! This is part two (out of three!) of my 2019 drarry fic recs. In the first part I recommended ten of my absolute favorite stories I read this year, and here I am today with ten more that I also love dearly and hope you’ll enjoy too. The banner art is by one of my FAVORITE ARTISTS, @aceveria-art who was kind enough to let me use their art for this and just LOOK AT THAT STUNNING PIECE (here’s the link for you to reblog if you want cause omg). Now, in no particular order, here’s some of my
FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART TWO
1. Of Wands and Trees - Omi_Ohmy - 45k - All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.
We’re starting out this list with this absolute gemstone of a fic. It’s got everything: adventure, redemption, cabins in the middle of nowhere, a spin on the kind of magic we’re used to in this fandom, ancient trees, passion, wandlore, Draco being forced to work for his own food, Harry bathing naked in streams (my mouth’s watering as we speak), and it’s so, so good, the writing, the characterizations, the setting so vibrant I felt like I was standing right there. Just, a gem all around.
2. Take Into the Air (My Quiet Breath) - guardianmira - 11k - Draco is dying of Hanahaki Disease. Serves him right, Harry thinks.
This fic felt, to me, like something completely different from the eighth year fics I usually read, and, having found it by accident, it absolutely blew my mind! I did not expect to love it as much as I did, and I definitely did not expect to feel it as deeply as I did. Just the right amount of angst to give us that sweet, sweet relief at the end. Very lovely.
3. We have a Problem - @xx-thedarklord-xx - 3k - Weddings tend to have a variety of things happening at one time. With a groom as meticulous as Draco, Ron expected nothing to go wrong. When shenanigans, walkouts, disasters, no-shows, and a lack of food strike, it’s up to Ron to save the day.
SO SWEET. Just so, so freaking sweet and funny and different. Ron’s POV was fresh and lovely and so clever, and the plot is hilarious and engaging. It reads so quickly that you will barely feel time passing, and I am 10000% sure that everyone’s bound to adore this. It’s just one of those fics. I cannot recommend it enough. It will be the absolute best 15-20 minutes of your day.
4. Foreplay - @lqtraintracks - 6k - Getting a raging hard-on on the duelling room floor, pinned under Harry Potter’s sweaty body, is not how Draco saw his day going, but… Well, here he is.
Mmfffff. Can barely think about this without having to fan myself, because it’s probably the hottest fic I read all year. Aurors sparring, a Harry who is unbelievably hot, a Draco who tries but simply can’t resist him, showers, a bit of semi-public sex, and the very literal definition of “not safe for work” can be found in here. Just, goodness, it should’ve taken me half an hour to read it and it took about one because I KEPT STOPPING TO BREATHE. Lqt never fails to deliver powerful, incredibly sexy stories and you should all go see for yourselves what I’m talking about.
5. Safe Words - felix_atticus - 26k - Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious. The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no.
Speaking of powerful, this one here stabbed me right in the chest and twisted the knife, but in the absolute best way possible. It’s FANTASTIC. The writing is beautiful, the characterizations astounding, and I felt every single emotion so deep inside me. It paints how difficult it is to navigate trust, how impossible it feels to put our own wants and needs over what’s expected of us, explores consent in so many different aspects of life and just presents a beautiful relationship at its core. It really is gorgeous.
6. Upstaged - @lettersbyelise - 3k - West End actor Drake O'Malley starts receiving fanmail from a (not so mysterious) stranger.
The epistolary format already makes this stand apart from our usual fic, but the plot itself is also something I hadn’t ever read before. It’s written so smoothly that it reads like a dream, and I loved every second of it and how it allowed me to build up an entire picture of what was happening with each letter. I’ve gone back to it two or three times just to experience it all over again, and I always have a great time when I do. This is so lovely, witty and just different.
7. Pure Imagination - @aibidil - 14k - An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.
My god is this fic lovely. I spent about three quarters of it clutching my chest because I loved it so much, I love these kids so much and it hit me right in the feels to see everything they go through after the dust of the war settles and they have to figure out their place in life. This is hope in a jar, it’s that light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel story that becomes a metaphor for life itself. A beautiful, beautiful ride.
8. Poor Unfortunate Souls - @doubleappled - 19k - Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there’s an octopus in the lobby.
Chaotic, unique, HOT!!! The whole set up is brilliant, Draco’s work is very interesting, the scenes where we get to see with Harry and Ginny are so incredibly well done that my jaw fell to the floor a little, and what can I even say about the entire buildup we get for Draco and Harry’s relationship, it was MASTERFUL. This fic is absolutely amazing and the ending is so good I can still savor it when I remember it. Go check it out, right now!!!
9. Weather With You - @quicksilvermaid - 29k - Flood. Heatwave. Cyclone. Epic storm ready to rip London apart? Something strange is happening to the weather inside the Ministry of Magic…–Featuring magical creatures, Harry wearing minimal clothes, a snarky snake, and Draco Malfoy who is definitely Up To Something.
This story is such a fun ride that can, at times, be absolutely freaking hilarious (the whole “He Is Up To Something” narrative never fails to crack me up), and at times become sweet and tender. There is nothing more relatable to me than a Draco who wants Harry so much he doesn’t even know what to do with himself, and it was a joy to read him here, and actually, both of their characterizations are so fantastic that they definitely feel like an extension of what we know about them to begin with, and I just had the best of times watching them work their way out of this mess. Sprinkle in a bit of parseltongue, witty snakes and shirtless Harry, and you’ve found yourself the best way to spend the evening.
10. A Sword Laid Aside - @korlaena - 128k - When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he’s going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.
There are so many things I want to say about this one, so many little details that drove me wild and I want to mention but I just… I- this story is absolutely MIND BLOWING, it’s deep, it’s amazing and frankly extraordinary and I don’t even know how to tell you how much I adore every single word of it. This must be one of my absolute favorite versions of Harry that I’ve ever read, his immense power, his internal conflict, pain and sheer physicality made me weak in the knees; Draco’s characterization is also so heartbreakingly spot on that I could barely believe what I was reading. This story gripped me, squeezed me, spun me around a little and then put me upright again, and there is honestly nothing like it. I haven’t even told you anything about the plot, which… omg. There are no words to tell you how much you NEED to read this. Just typing this is making me want to embark on this adventure again. — I have no excuse for the amount of Harry thirst to be found on this list, I just- well. I really hope you like these little gems! Hahaha. If you do end up reading any of them and want to chat about them, or have questions about any tags or warnings that might worry you, my DMs are always open!!! Enjoy ❤️
#drarry#drarry fic#drarry fanfic#drarry fic recs#draco malfoy#harry potter#drarry fic rec#drarry rec list#2019rec#ficrec
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Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material
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This article contains spoilers for Invincible episode 7.
Amazon’s animated adaptation of Robert Kirkman and Cory Walker’s comic Invincible was always a great idea. The property has just about everything that streaming services and their audiences are looking for currently: superheroes, ultraviolence, and jaw-dropping twists.
One big question facing the series, however, was how could one show possibly fit in all the story of the comic’s lengthy 144-issue run? Invincible episode 7, “We Need to Talk,” is the first season’s penultimate installment and it reveals how the show is set to approach this logistical challenge. With so many comic book issues of plot to get through, Invincible seems perfectly happy to accelerate through that plot as efficiently as possible. To that end, “We Need to Talk” features a truly staggering number of climactic moments.
This might actually be the most charmingly chaotic and jam-packed episode of TV this year (at least before next week’s finale). So much happens in “We Need to Talk” that it runs the risk of overwhelming the viewer. With that in mind, let’s break down the important plot points of this hour and examine the major ways in which they differ from (and even improve upon) the comic.
Robot’s True Identity
The reveal that the entity known as “Robot” isn’t who he claims to be might be the most shocking Invincible twist thus far. And that’s saying a lot for a show whose first episode concludes with the story’s Superman equivalent straight up murdering the rest of his Justice League.
That Robot (Zachary Quinto) is really a malformed genius named Rudolph Conners isn’t a surprise to comic book readers, but its positioning this early in Invincible’s story is a surprise. Robot’s work with the Mauler Twins to create a new body for himself doesn’t happen until after the events of Omni-Man’s confrontation with Mark in the comics (more on that later). The show, however, shrewdly decides to present this moment in the same episode as Omni-Man’s fall – just so there’s never really a moment for viewers to catch their breath.
But now the truth has finally arrived. Robot, the orange hunk of metal with a fixedly bemused expression, is actually a machine being operated remotely by Rudolph Conners. Rudolph, or Rudy, is a small, damaged man whose body isn’t capable of surviving Earth’s environment. For many years Rudy was content to exist in his own life-giving tank of fluids while operating his superheroic “Robot” remotely. Everything changed, however, when he met the hero known as Monster Girl.
Rudy couldn’t help but identify with Monster Girl (Grey Griffin), a fellow soul who has made the best of a flawed body. Everytime Monster Girl transforms into a monster, her human form de-ages several more weeks. Theoretically at some point Monster Girl will become an infant and then waste away into nothingness. Before any of that happens, Rudy wants to fix her…and he wants to fix his own broken body so that the pair can be together.
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To that end, Rudy sprung the mad genius villain team The Mauler Twins from prison to create a cloned body for him to transfer his consciousness into. What makes this whole thing even stranger is that the genetic material Rudy chose for his new body belongs to his Teen Team and Guardians of the Globe colleague Rex Splode. The new Rudy appears to be played by Rex Splode actor Jason Mantzoukas with his voice altered to sound younger.
Does that mean Zachary Quinto is no longer a part of the series? Let’s certainly hope not as he may have been the best performer of the entire cast. And why did Rudy choose Rex’s DNA (and without Rex’s consent, it must be said)? Because Rex is hot, basically. Rudy chose a human form that Monster Girl was already comfortable flirting with.
This is…a lot. And the fact that Rudy has to introduce himself to his teammates while they’ve all gathered for an “apocalyptic event” just adds to the madness. But what of The Mauler Twins? The disappointment of Rudy’s double-crossing doesn’t last long. For, after Rudy is forced to abandon his efforts to reincarcerate the Mauler Twins to return to the Guardians home base, the twins get back to their important task at hand. And that leads to the return of another important Invincible character…
The Immortal is Immortal After All
Back in Invincible episode 1, Mark Grayson’s dad Nolan a.k.a. Omni-Man (J.K. Simmons) made short work of the Guardians of the Globe. Darkwing? Dead. War Woman? Dead. The Immortal? De….wait a minute. How can someone called “The Immortal” die?
Well, it turns out that death for The Immortal (still voiced by Ross Marquand) is only temporary. Omni-Man removed The Immortal’s head, which is pretty much universally lethal across all genre stories. But The Mauler Twins theorized that if The Immortal’s head were returned to his body, he would spring back to life.
Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened once The Immortal’s noggin was reattached. Unfortunately for The Mauler Twins, their dreams of forming any sort of alliance with the resurrected hero are quickly dashed as he immediately flies off to confront the man who killed him.
Omni-Man v. Cecil Stedman
And that takes us to Omni-Man. In the comic, Omni-Man’s confrontation with The Immortal is what leads Mark Grayson (Steven Yeun) to discover that he’s got a Darth Vader situation on his hands. The show borrows that moment from the comic because any time you have the opportunity to make a character watch his father tear a Wolverine-looking dude in half, you’ve got to take it. That comic book moment is surprisingly abrupt though. In one panel Omni-Man is doing his usual Omni-Man thing and saving a group of citizens from a faulty roller coaster and in the next panel, The Immortal is all over his ass.
The Amazon Prime series dramatically improves on what is already a pretty great moment simply by drawing it out and building serious tension. Nolan’s wife Debbie (Sandra Oh) and the entire Global Defense Agency led by Cecil Stedman (Walton Goggins) are already well aware of Nolan’s treachery and have decided to finally take action. In speaking to Den of Geek and other outlets prior to Invincible’s premiere, Kirkman (who’s onboard as a writer and producer for this adaptation) revealed that Cecil Stedman would be getting an expanded role earlier on in Invincible’s story.
“Cecil Stedman is a character that we get to know a little earlier in the show and definitely we get to do more with him,” he said. “I think that’s a lot of fun. There’s definitely some differences to his character and working with Walton Goggins on him has been great.”
Cecil really is a fascinating tool for Invincible. Many superhero stories have a Jim Gordon-style government liaison for its heroes to interact with. This person usually represents the interests of the planet’s “normal” citizen and is particularly impressive for being able to cut it in the world of the super-powered. By having Debbie and the GDA uncover Nolan’s guilt first, Invincible creates a wonderful opportunity to display both Cecil’s competence and depict the absolute horror of we puny humans trying to keep a super-powered god in check.
Many times throughout Invincible episode 7, Cecil admits that there is nothing they can do to stop Nolan. The best they can do is slow him down for a bit until Mark is able to intervene. The first roadblock that Cecil presents is the explosion of an entire suburban city block with Nolan at its epicenter (R.I.P. Donald).
“Best it will do is maybe knock him on his ass for an hour or two,” Cecil says. Then when the smoke clears to reveal an unharmed Omni-Man, Cecil grimly adds “Or maybe not hurt him at all.”
Cecil then throws the “hammer” at Nolan, which is a powerful blast from a weaponized satellite.
“$400 billion for the world’s most expensive nosebleed,” Cecil quips when Nolan takes the weapon out with ease.
Then we get a sense of how many moral shortcuts Cecil is willing to take to keep the Earth safe. Mad scientist D.A. Sinclair’s (Ezra Miller) wounds from his confrontation with Invincible haven’t even healed yet but Cecil already has him using his evil technology for noble purposes. Sinclair’s “Reanimen” technology is now being used to reanimate recently dead U.S. soldiers, who are sent in to slow down Omni-Man. Unfortunately, that is also unsuccessful.
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Finally, Cecil is forced to head out into the field armed with nothing but a teleporter to confront Omni-Man himself. When that inevitably fails to slow Nolan down, the GDA sends a monster that Nolan already conquered, only this time it’s been robbed of its weaknesses and fear. And that’s where Mark finds his father, just in time for The Immortal to arrive and deliver one hell of a surprise.
There’s something to be said for the suddenness of the comic’s Omni-Man moment with Mark. Mark witnessing his dad’s evil act truly comes out of nowhere even though we know it’s inevitable as Nolan has been practicing this conversation all issue.
What the show does with the moment is a masterstroke, however. By centering the focus on the human characters of Invincible’s world, we get a chilling sense of just how terrifying this all is. Omni-Man’s heel turn doesn’t just have personal implications for Mark, it means that Earth’s unbeatable protector now seems to hate Earth. More terrifying than that is that the only person we think can defeat him is Mark Grayson…who, it must be said, has done nothing but had his ass absolutely handed to him by lesser enemies over and over again for the past three episodes.
Amber and Mark
It probably feels anticlimactic to address Mark and Amber’s lover’s spat after breaking down Omni-Man’s reign of terror. But it’s necessary to see how far-reaching the changes (and in this case improvements) are in episode 7 in comparison to its original text.
Mark and Amber’s relationship thus far has been all about frustration. Mark is facing an annoying problem with a seemingly easy solution. Amber (Zazie Beetz) is upset with him because he is absent in their burgeoning relationship. He’s absent in their burgeoning relationship because he’s a superhero. Therefore, the quickest, easiest solution to this dilemma is to tell her that he’s a superhero.
So in this episode, that’s exactly what Mark does. He gets suited up and flies right through Amber’s window to deliver the exciting news. The problem is – she’s not that excited.
“Ugh, I know you’re a superhero,” Amber says. “I’m not an idiot, I figured it out weeks ago.”
This is not how things go down in the comic. That version of Amber is a bit more…let’s say “bubbly” and when confronted with the fact that Mark has lied to her for weeks she responds with an excited “My boyfriend is a superhero?!?!?”
The show, however, is smart to not let Mark off the hook so easily. Of course Amber knew that Mark is Invincible. Because, like she says, she’s not an idiot. Anyone who spends an inordinate amount of time with him is bound to figure it out sooner than later. So what Mark thought was a problem with an easy solution becomes yet another difficult lesson on his path to maturation.
“I think that Amber is important in terms of holding Mark accountable,” Beetz told reporters prior to the show’s premiere. “Mark is still struggling with what his identity as a super person is. And she shows him that (powers) are not what make you good or special ultimately, it’s what’s in your character.”
It turns out that the people close to you don’t appreciate being lied to. Though human beings all look like particularly vulnerable ants from Mark’s perspective high up in the sky, we certainly don’t appreciate being treated like insects to be protected and manipulated by the powerful among us.
Mark and Amber’s relationship is an excellent indication that nothing will come easy for Mark Grayson on this show. Every decision has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s important that he learns that lesson before he enters into what is sure to be the most stressful and morally confusing moment of his life next week.
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Invincible’s season finale will be available to stream Friday, April 30 on Amazon Prime.
The post Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material appeared first on Den of Geek.
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When You Wake
I literally cannot believe I wrote this. This was originally started to celebrate Yaku’s birthday (happy belated, my love), and to satisfy the requests for a Noya/Yaku threesome. Uh, don’t come for me. I couldn’t find inspiration in the normal hq world, so we’re making it weird. If y’all thought Between the Lines was long, this monstrosity is 13.2k words. 13,200 words, with a shameful, side amount that is smut. Literally, this is all just plot.
ear candy list is, surprisingly, on the smaller side.
⤞ Revenga - System of A Down ⤞ Violent Pornography - System of A Down ⤞ Question! - System of A Down
pairing: Yaku/Reader/Noya
w a r n i n g s//TW: rape, murder, blood consumption, mentions of getting roofied, gore, blood from wounds, supernatural AU, revenge, temporarily mute reader, reader is converted to a vampire without consent, dubcon, death, spitroasting, dirty talk, senpai kink. PLEASE read through these warnings over and over until it is clear to you that this is not going to be an easy read. The reader literally goes on a revenge spree. ⤞ THIS. IS NOT. AN EASY. READ.
Now that you have been thoroughly warned, enjoy.
The way media and films and television glorified and romanticized college parties never could have prepared you for the fateful encounter in the alleyway on a muggy August evening. Primarily, college parties were depicted as fun—drunk nights on the weekends with your girlfriends, maybe hook up with that cute boy from chemistry that somehow ended up with you grinding on him on the dance floor. Though, in some genres, college parties end up with the protagonist roofied and raped and follows how the heroine spirals and recovers. But it only was supposed to happen in the movies, right?
It wasn’t supposed to end with you halfway to death, knocking on Hell’s door with blood pooling around your lifeless body in a barely lit, bleak alleyway. It wasn’t supposed to end with warbles of light fading in and out of your vision as cars passed you by, unknowing there was someone in the alleyway between a closed down butcher shop and a florist who had already gone home for the evening. You were only in your early twenties with only two more years of university to compete—it wasn’t supposed to end yet.
“We can’t just leave her here.”
“I think she’s too far gone, Yaku. We were too late.”
The voices swirling around you were unfamiliar, or at least from what you could gather. In your condition, it was impossible to discern them in the first place—were they even real voices? They sounded entirely too angelic from what you could process in your catatonic state. Maybe they weren’t; maybe death had taken you without your knowledge and the jury that decided whether or not your soul would ascend to heaven was passing their judgment on you.
“I can save her, Noya.” One of the voices, presumably this Yaku character snarls back with urgency. It is the last thing you hear before your limp body is pulled from the concrete. The movement, regardless of how delicate, causing more blood to rush from your open wounds and draining any ounce of consciousness from your mind. “You mind trying to collect the fallout?”
Nishinoya, though shaking his head, gives a subtle grin that cannot be seen in the dead of the night. He pulls out a large mason jar from the satchel he’s carrying and places the mouth of the jar where blood is pouring out profusely from a knife wound. The man collecting the blood knew entirely too well that once his mate sets his mind to something, there was no changing it. Not that it served as a recurring issue; if anything, Noya was grateful for Yaku’s stubbornness considering it was that exact trait of his that had given the former his second chance at life.
The two of them move swiftly, trying to make it back to their hidden mansion, that was quite a distance away, in secret. Yaku is doing all that he can to make sure not to disturb your body so as not to open any wounds further that could force you to bleed out and meet the grim reaper. He wasn’t a very pleasant creature, but that was a story for another day. At the same time, Nishinoya is almost fighting to keep the same steadfast pace while simultaneously holding the now half full mason jar just under the knife wound. The blood was beginning to thicken, turning from bright red to a deep crimson as it oxidizes.
The moment they enter their private garden, Nishinoya busts down the door to their home with expertise, alerting the other members of their clan. “Akaashi!” He screeches, his voice bellowing out in decibels that should not be used unless trying to project a voice in an amphitheater with no microphone. Thank omniscient beings for noise cancelling enchantments. “We need you!” An almost timid, young looking man enters the foyer where Noya is still collecting blood and Yaku is holding your limp body in his arms.
“So that’s where you two have been,” Akaashi deadpans, unfazed by the steadily decaying girl. “Bring her to my room. You can store what blood you’ve gathered there while I remove the knife and get her patched up.” Though calm, the three of them move at breakneck speeds, laying you face down on an operating table while Akaashi suits up. From what he can tell, this was going to be a real mess, considering how deep the knife is. The three of them knew what was to come and what their designated roles in this moment were—Nishinoya was to separate the blood he had gathered from your body and ration them into IV bags, while Yaku was provide suction in case of a bleed out.
“We can save her, can’t we?” Yaku asks quietly, tools in hand.
“That will depend on her will to fight,” Akaashi says quietly, half due to concentration, half because he genuinely does not have a valid answer. “You’ve done this time and time again, Yaku. If anyone is going to save her, it’s going to be you.”
Upon coming to, the only muscles in your body that can move are your eyelids. Peeling them back as much as you can muster, you notice the only light filtering into whatever room you are currently residing in is coming from the blaring moonlight through an open window. The shadows around you make up areas and shapes that you are entirely unfamiliar with, causing you to sit up impulsively to make sense of your surroundings. A mistake on your part, as you are immediately met with a searing pain in your ribs. With further inspection from your droopy eyes, you learn that your torso is entirely bare, save for the copious amounts of medical grade bandages and gauze around your breasts and stomach. Blood pooled somewhere along your left shoulder blade where the pain felt the worst.
“You shouldn’t try to sit up right now.” The same voice you faintly remember from the alley, the one that didn’t want to leave you, before blacking out calls out from across the bedroom. The room is quite large from what you could tell and his smooth voice seems to be leagues away. “Lay back down before you bleed out again—I’ll change your bandages.” From the shadows, a man whom you presume to be Yaku emerges before you, perfect pale skin and sandy brown locks nearly reflecting in the moonlight as he approaches. His face, while incredibly handsome, is blank and is strictly business as he saunters near. Even as he is gingerly tearing off the tight bindings around you with next to no effort, his face remains nonplussed. Even as he washes the dried, crusty blackened blood off your bare chest, nothing. “Do you remember anything?” Yaku’s voice is quiet and somber as he asks his question. He takes your silence as a no.
Your mind is a hazy smog, trying to recall any type of memory at all. Rather than actual imagery, you see a white light when you close your eyes—you see colors you don’t remember seeing before, you hear crying. You hear your name. Not just your first name or a nickname either, you hear your entire given name along with your birthday, even the time of birth.
Any attempt to recall memories is interrupted by a sharp pain. You suck in a breath as Yaku tries to lift your arm to wrap the fresh bandages around your torso, causing him to grimace ever so slightly. This task was a bit easier for him when you were still unconscious, but nonetheless he is glad you’re awake. When the pain subsides, you peel your eyelids back once again, staring at the man sitting at the edge of the bed in wonder. Why was he tending to your wounds? How did he fit into the story? “You needn’t worry about that right now, [name],” he murmurs quietly, reintroducing the same delicate tone you heard before blacking out in the alley. Yaku can tell you’re wondering how he knew what to respond with and how he knew your name but, after a small deliberation, he decides it’s best not to overwhelm you right now. “Get some rest, little one,” he speaks again, “I’ll be here when you wake.” Before you know it, you’re out like a light once again.
Yaku exits his and Noya’s shared bedroom to dispose of the sullied bandages, only to be greeted to the sight of his mate leaning against the bannister closest to their room. “How’s she doing?” Yaku’s lips tighten, the seam becoming a hard line as his grimace deepens.
“She doesn’t remember anything but when I asked her if she did...”
“What?” Noya presses, perturbed at the silence. Very few things in their lives rendered Yaku speechless.
“She started seeing memories of her birth.” The two shorter leaders of the clan meander their way down the grandiose staircase in silence, each step accompanied by the dramatic chimes of a grand piano coming from the foyer. The music stops when they reach the bottom of the staircase, Sugawara pausing his fingers and quirking a brow at the couple. It was a rare occurrence to see both of them, or Nishinoya in the very least, look so morose.
“What’s got you guys looking so down? You look like someone just died.” The musician muses. Sugawara Koushi always did have the most twisted sense of humor—that was partially the reason that Yaku had kept him around. The other primary reason was solely for bragging rights and an inside joke between the clan because no matter how many times Sugawara introduced himself as Beethoven or Bach, people assumed that they all just meant he was talented. Not that it was literal and Sugawara was just a name he’d adopted when he earned another century of life.
“Ha ha,” Nishinoya drawls satirically, for both himself and for Yaku. The latter excuses himself, parting ways because he knows he can’t handle conversation right now. “Come on, Suga, that’s not funny. Yaku’s already taking this really hard and if we lose her...”
“Humans die all the time, Nishi. A conversion isn’t a guaranteed shot at a second life and Yaku knows that so why is he—“
“Because she was found just like I was. Wrong place at the wrong time and it ended with...” the shorter of the two can no longer find the words to speak. It didn’t matter how many centuries old everyone in the clan was, it didn’t matter that they had watched plagues take countless lives or even bared witness to some of Jack the Ripper’s victims—it was a different monster entirely to genuinely watch a person become prey to another human. “I hope she makes it through, if only to rip out the guys throat that stabbed her.”
Three months had passed since you had first woken up. Strength is returning to you little by little, though not enough for you to hold consciousness for more than a few minutes a day. Regardless, Yaku is relieved to see you making some form of progress, to see that you’re somewhat handling the conversion well. The head of the clan was almost always present when you did awake, though there were instances in which his partner, Nishinoya, had been the one to greet you.
Nishinoya was much more boisterous than his other half—much more talkative and, considering you haven’t found the strength to speak quite yet, that was entirely okay with you. You learned that Yaku and Nishinoya had been together a very long time and Yaku had saved his life ages ago, as the latter phrased it. In admiration, Noya mentions his partner’s abundance of patience—a skill that he himself lacked—and determination to see justice being served had swayed the younger of the two to continuously stand alongside him. Through these little vignettes of their life, however, Noya makes it a point to acknowledge the fact that he was once almost too overbearing for his senior, often intimidating him with just how open and blunt he was. “Nishi, are you boring her with details of our mundane life?” Yaku asks bemusedly as he enters the room you’d been resting in.
“Hey, we aren’t boring. I’m not boring you, am I?” Noya looks to your face, your expression not giving much away save for the light in your barely live eyes. It was far from mundane—if anything, hearing the stories made you so curious considering from just barely glancing with the two, they seemed to be a strange couple.
“We are,” Yaku confirms, though as to what, you aren’t sure. You were certain you hadn’t said anything aloud, considering you practically can’t. “Let’s just say I can hear your thoughts. It’s how we’ve been communicating with you.” The head of clan saunters over casually, sitting at the edge of the mattress opposite to his partner. Both of their rich, golden irises are gazing at you, gauging a reaction from you as he shares this bit of information. Weird, was the only way for you to describe it. Though Yaku didn’t need to read your mind to know that; the slightly panicked look on your face gave away your thoughts.
“Don’t think we don’t know about those vivid wet dreams you have of us—“
“Yū, you weren’t supposed to tell her that!”
“What? We’re all adults here—“
“Nishi, get out,” Yaku covers his face in utter horror, even more so as his partner exits the room laughing as he does so. Shameless Noya. The door closes, leaving you and Yaku alone—were he able to go red out of embarrassment, he probably would have. “I-I am so sorry about him.” Testing out the information that the man beside you supplied moments ago, you reassure him that it’s fine—that you have no control over your dreams and that he probably doesn’t have a way to turn off this strange ability. For a moment, he’s relieved because you seem to be accepting everything with grace thus far; maybe telling you the truth wasn’t going to be the worst case scenario.
But the thought of the truth makes Yaku hesitate—there was no way you were ready to handle the entirety of the truth. At the moment, you could barely handle your weekly check-ups with Akaashi—the household doctor. After a formal introduction, you learned that Akaashi was the one who patched up your wounds when you were first brought to the little mansion. From what you gathered, he was quiet and direct, kind even, but you hated the weekly visits. Not only was Yaku carrying you rather painful, as you’re still recovering from your injuries, but Akaashi had to do regular blood transfusions because, according to the young doctor that you swore could not have already completed medical school and residency, you had lost a lot of blood during the incident.
An incident in which you still can’t recall.
“It’ll come to you,” Yaku says morosely, probably responding in accordance to your thought. The man beside you gets up from the bed, holding his arms open to you, silently asking for permission to pick you up. “Sorry, I’ll try to be more gentle.” His arms are cold as he lifts you up, but all you can focus on is the throbbing in your back as he moves you. A sharp intake of breath leaves your lungs as Yaku supports you physically, adding gentle words of encouragement because he can almost feel how much pain you’re in. Every step down the steep staircase adds another metaphorical bruise to your tender skin, a small groan leaving your throat each time. And while you’re not uncomfortable with the idea of being in Yaku’s arms, you’re grateful when you’re laid down in Akaashi’s office along the leather exam seat.
“How are you feeling today, [name]?” The young doctor asks as he preps you for your blood transfusion. Much to your surprise, you feel hungry—ravenous, even—like you hadn’t eaten a meal in months. Maybe you hadn’t; it wouldn’t be that ridiculous to consider since your memory was a little shoddy.
“You’ll feel better after the transfusion,” Yaku reassures from the chair he’s sitting in beside the exam bed, “we’ll get some food in your system before we start your physical therapy.” There’s an interesting intonation in the way he speaks this, you notice. Like there’s an underlying joke or hidden agenda that you don’t quite understand, but at the same time, the strange phrasing doesn’t trigger your fight-or-flight system in any capacity. If anything, it just seems that Yaku wants to help you regain strength as best you can.
Though, that was currently proving to be a challenge as well. While you weren’t entirely sure how long ago your injuries occurred, you knew a decent amount of time had to have passed. One of your first check-up appointments with Akaashi led to the explanation of the muscle atrophy in your legs from lack of use. Once you slowly became acclimated to being awake for more than just a few minutes a day, Daichi was introduced to you as your physical therapist. He was another enigma—entirely too young to be as experienced as he was in his field, but you decided against questioning it—temporarily mute or not.
Being mute was another issue that was taking much longer than you liked. You hated only being able to communicate through Yaku’s inexplicable talent of being able to read your mind. There were many occasions in which you wanted to ask Akaashi about your condition and how bad of a state you had been brought to him in; how you wanted to ask Sugawara how he’d learned to play such a vast variety of melodies so expertly; how you wanted to tell Nishinoya that every time he tried to feed you a soup or something, it tasted foul and metallic no matter how fresh it was.
You’d have to wait until you found your voice again.
After your check-in with Akaashi, Yaku brings you to Daichi’s office just down the hallway. “Hey, there’s our little fighter.” Daichi was probably the kindest out of everyone in the household. He had a warmth to him that seemed to contrast his icy fingers when he’d hold and guide you for your therapy sessions—a little uncanny that everyone in this mansion had freezing finger tips. Maybe everyone had poor blood circulation?
From the opposite end of the room, Yaku stifles a laugh by biting his cheek. Glad to know that your deconstructed concept of time hadn’t waned on your sense of humor. Meanwhile, Daichi lays you gingerly on a mat on the ground with you back flat as he wraps a resistance band around one of his ankles, as well as your own. “Alright, [name], I’m gonna help you get your leg up and I want to see you pull your leg up as high as you can go, understood?” Five didn’t seem like a very large number, but for now it was the goal. If you could at least lift your legs five times, it was progress considering the severe muscle atrophy in your legs.
Some days, it was difficult for Yaku to sit with you through therapy. He can see the way you wince in pain because you’re trying to relearn and rebuild your muscle groups; other times he just wanted someone, anyone, to blurt out the truth about the situation and hope that it inspires you to push yourself to heal. Some days, it was difficult because Yaku found himself just wanting to hold you in his bed that you’d taken over while the two of you plot out the revenge you didn’t even know you needed. But it wasn’t always bad. There were days, like today, where the progress on your therapy was going much better than anyone in the clan anticipated. There were days where Yaku would ask what you remembered about...anything, and you would have some form of answer for him.
On those days, Yaku began to realize that your memories were coming in chronological order. From the first time you sat up or crawled, to your first word even. In fact, Yaku’s favorite moment that he’s witnessed thus far was watching your father teach you to take your very first steps—it seemed to recur during your therapy sessions, as if subconsciously encouraging you to try to walk again. Maybe that’s why today, you were able to provide Daichi with double the repetitions that he asked for—a sure sign that strength and muscle were returning to your legs. But even with what progress you’ve made so far, Yaku makes it a point to carry you back to your room and lay you back in bed to rest. As always, Yaku tucked you in as he spoke, “get some sleep, little one. I’ll be here when you wake,”
For weeks on end, dreams stop becoming dreams. Per usual, Yaku awaits in the corner opposite of the bed where you rest, allowing your memories-turned-dreams to flood his mind. Each night, they’re progressively becoming more and more clear—you’re able to recall outfits that you’d worn twenty years ago with perfect detail, scars and scrapes that your friends had, even when that one sock was in the corner of your closet from when you were seven. But the clearer these chronological dreams became, the less frequently you were waking up and it was beginning to worry the head of the clan. While you were still obtaining your weekly blood transfusions to help sustain your life, it seemed to be that they were no longer providing you with enough energy to move past your current stage of recovery. “Yaku, she needs to start feeding,” Akaashi had instructed him during a consultation.
“I still haven’t told her—“
“Come on, man, it’s been almost eight months,” the house doctor groans. There was no reason to coddle you anymore as your life-threatening wounds had already healed for the most part. Sure, there was still discomfort from your broken ribs but even those had almost entirely healed over; your physical therapy sessions and rehabilitation with Daichi were going rather well but, at this point, if you didn’t start getting more substance in your body, this would be the end of the line for you. Akaashi had advised him this for weeks now, but Yaku still hesitated. “We’ve got to tell her.”
“I know, I know. I just—“ the sandy brunette ruffles his claws through his mussed locks in frustration, “I think her power is developing. And I’m afraid if we drop the bomb on her now, it’s going to halt or hinder that progress.”
“Either tell her or feed her,” Akaashi bites, “if you don’t, she’s not going to have any power because she’s going to starve to death.” With that, Akaashi walks away because he has nothing left to argue at this point. While he may be the youngest of the brood, this made Akaashi the most volatile of the group. More often than not, he was relatively kind and patient, timid even, as he was in his human life, but also very stern and strict—all of it coming from a place of love. And Yaku, knowing the tremendous amounts of emotional pain that the former had received, the leader of the clan dare not disrespect him.
Rather than making it an argument, Yaku roams around the lodge to grab a couple bags of O negative out of storage before heading back to his room. Much to his surprise, Nishinoya is sitting at the edge of the bed already, a slight look of panic washing over his features. “Yaku, I think something is wrong.” Without another word, the creature in question hands the bags of blood to his mate before resting his forehead against yours—a sure fire way to make sure that the mental images he picked up from you were pristine and uninterrupted as you dreamed—ignoring the cold sweat beading on your forehead.
You were at the Pike house. It was the first week of the new college semester and your roommates had convinced you to tag along to a frat party they were invited to. The night was going along exactly like a corny romantic comedy—you had locked eyes with a man from across the dance floor. He was sweet—much kinder than others you had met that night. He grabbed you drink after drink, but your memory begins to go fuzzy after that despite being able to recall memories of your own birth or the stupid girl that picked on you when you were twelve and even the small pimple on her temple that you figured was probably making her insecure. So if you were able to recall these memories, dreams, whatever they were, with such perfect clarity, why could you not remember leaving that party? Did that mean he had been drugging your drinks? It was entirely possible, considering Pike wasn’t exactly known for their hospitality. You vaguely remember the man holding your hand firmly as the two of you weave and bob around people and being met with the sweltering humidity of a muggy August night and your roommates, Yukie and Kaori, were nowhere to be found.
You were dragged into a dimly lit alleyway, stumbling with every step that the man had nearly carried you by your wrist alone, reeking of trash that had been long overdue for pick up and maybe even rotting carcasses. It was difficult to tell considering the drugs you assume that had been placed in your system and it was even more difficult to recall the memories. Bits and pieces of your memory were coming back in patches—though the face of the man that had brought you there was not one of them. Nor were any of his friends that had joined in, appearing at the opening of the alleyway. You remember the sound of tearing fabric, salacious laughter of the group of men surrounding your body. You remember feeling searing pain as one held a knife to your throat, warning you that he would slit your throat if you tried to scream.
The threat was replaced in the form of one of the frat boys ramming a half-hard cock down your throat, knife still in place along the jugular vein, while every orifice and inch of your skin had been violated. Vaguely, you remember trying to bite down on the cock in your mouth and run away. The one that threatened to kill you had missed your throat when you ran and threw the knife into your back instead. Foul screeches of demeaning slander left their mouths as they kicked your ribs in at full force, as if the knife deep in your back wasn’t bad enough.
You remember them leaving your bare, naked body in the alley for death to take you.
You remember their faces.
Awakening with a start, you sit up abruptly, only to fall back into the pillow with a resonant clacking noise followed by a dull throb to your forehead. Yaku recoils, mostly out of shock rather than pain—maybe laying his head on yours wasn’t his finest moment. “You remember,” he balks after he’s recovered from the impact. You’re trying to scream, no sound leaving your lungs while tears barreled out from your eyes. Remember? Why was that a memory? Why did it have to be a memory?
Nishinoya acts hastily, tearing open one of the O negative packs and draining half the contents into his mouth and holding it there as he shoves Yaku out of the way. The smaller of the two slats his lips over your silently screaming mouth, puncturing a small wound to the inside of your lip with his teeth and letting the blood trickle in the hole. It feels like pudding trying to push through a sieve, the flavor of copper and iron tampered out by an earthy, meat flavor—maybe venison? The desire to scream fades away as well, rather being over taken to have whatever nourishment Noya is giving you to enter you more and more. Out of necessity, you mold your lips over his, sucking hard on his lip while wrapping your arms around him because it just didn’t seem that he could get close enough in this moment. Despite the fingers you have threaded in Nishinoya’s gelled locks, he pulls away with a shit-eating grin, his tongue swiping away at the trail of red liquid dripping from the seam of his lips. “Careful, might make a guy a fall in love with that kinda kiss.”
“M-more,” you croak out, deflecting the younger one’s flirty comment all together. Yaku and Noya’s eyes go wide upon hearing your voice for the first time. The former acts on instinct, downing the remaining contents of the bag in his partner’s hand before reenacting the same gesture as the latter. Yaku’s lips are much softer than his partners—or maybe it’s the quelling of whatever hunger that hadn’t been satiated that eased the desire. With Yaku, his tongue laves against the wound that Noya had made, coaxing the fluid to enter at a much more steadfast, intimate pace. Even well after he was done feeding you, Yaku sucked on your tongue, encouraging you to reciprocate, so as to get every drop. “W-What was t-that?” You pant out brokenly as soon as the two of you break apart. The question startles the two sitting at the edge of the bed—now that you had your voice somewhat back, Yaku no longer needed to communicate for you. That also meant he couldn’t control the flow of responses to not overwhelm you.
“I think it’s time you finally got your answers,” Noya mumbles, treading carefully as he looks at his partner. It was a silent reassurance that, no matter how this scenario proceeded, he would be here to support Yaku. To make you more comfortable, he adjusts the pillows behind you so that your back can rest properly along the headboard.
“M-my d-d-dreams?” Having just rediscovered your voice, it still came out in sharp, staccato-like whimpers, but the boys weren’t going to discourage you from speaking. Much like everything else Yaku had done in his life, he had done with patience and your recovery and rehabilitation were no different. But your throat was still raw and it still hurt to speak—thankfully with your mind rushing like a bullet train, Yaku was able to grasp the entirety of your question.
“I think they’re more memories than dreams.” His words come out like a condemning nail in a coffin—like a doctor telling you you only have a few months left to live—because that means everything you recalled from Pike house, the drinks, the party, the alley, all of it was real. “Noya and I found you that night barely clinging to life. Naked, soaked in blood and semen. You died that night, [name].” As he speaks, his cold finger tips traced along your breast until you feel the throbbing mound of flesh—a scar of where the knife had been thrown into you from the back and exited out the front. “The knife had gone through your aorta. Akaashi spent a long time trying to repair it but was unable to.”
Your body begins to tremble as silent sobs wrack through your body. You died? “S-so how ‘mi h-here?” Yaku looks over at Noya in discernible worry—not because the head was afraid of telling the truth, no. He was afraid how you would react to the truth. His partner looks at him poignantly, mentally reminding him that this was eerily similar to how Noya had reacted when he had learned the truth as well. Yaku’s head bobs in agreement, swallowing his hesitance before speaking again.
“I made you like me. Like the rest of us.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, suspicion even, because there’s no way that he’s saying what you think he’s saying. But rather than offering a verbal response, Yaku holds his hand out towards Noya, in which he places the other bag of O Negative in his palm. While the original plan was to just feed you once again, the second Yaku tears open the bag, the hunger you thought had eased returned at full force. You rip the bag out of his cold hands, elongated claws scratched at you as you do so, before you down the contents like a shotgunned beer before you could realize what you were doing.
“T-This is a joke, right?” You balk, voice clear as day due to the strength returning to your body once again from freshly consumed sustenance. But the tensions have gone down significantly, to the point where Noya feels relief and excuses himself to feed, leaving you in Yaku’s solitary care. Once the two of you are left alone, Yaku can only shake his head as he continues to press on with the truth. This had to be a cruel, sick joke. But it wasn’t funny and you certainly weren’t laughing. Yet Yaku had no reason to lie to you and the snack you had just consumed moments ago was meant to serve as a final nail in the metaphorical coffin to make you understand that he was telling the truth.
“We have been alive for centuries—storytellers dubbing our kind as vampires—but originally, we were simply called the Damned.” Yaku proceeds to go through the history, much like he had with all the others before you, because he feels the need to share the truth, needs to tell you that your death isn’t the end of your life but rather the beginning like it had for all those in clan. The most recent addition to the family was Akaashi. He was less than a century old, compared to the others. Akaashi had been tied to a tree and shot repeatedly, only to watch his lover drown to death, who had been tossed into the ocean before shortly before with a thirty pound weight attached to his ankle with his last few breaths. Yaku and Sugawara were the ones to set his nearly lifeless body free with the head of the clan performing Akashi’s conversion. This lead to the newborn to coming back to slaughter the community that decided to his partner needed to die for being a man in love.
Each of their stories was nearly identical. Sugawara, who apparently has been every major known classical musician in history hiding under the guise of his shapeshifter ability, and Daichi were hanged together for being a homosexual couple after their village had carved unsavory words on their bodies to remind their reincarnations of their sins. Yaku and Noya had saved each of them respectively, and allowed the two of them to go on a rampage to annihilate their executioners.
Lastly, or rather firstly, was Nishinoya himself. As Yaku goes into detail about transforming his partner, he tears up ever so slightly. And as you listen actively with no interruptions, no questions even, as he tells you about how Nishi was wrongly imprisoned for theft and how the other prisoners constantly violated and sodomized his body because he was smaller than the rest; how he ended his own life by ingesting whatever toxic chemicals he could find and how Yaku broke him out of prison to start a new life together. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” the aforementioned prisoner re-enters the room, a fragile smile on his thin lips as he takes a seat beside his partner. “So you finally told her?”
“B-but why m-me? Why not just let me die?”
“Do you not want revenge against the assholes that killed you a year ago, [ name ]?” Noya bit before Yaku could jump in. “They’re still alive after what they did to you—how is that fair?!”
A year?
You had died a year ago. How did your family take the news? Your roommates and best friends? Nishi was right—it wasn’t fair at all. Yaku raises a hand towards his partner in attempts to get him to calm down before he got too riled up about the situation and before he could get out the most important question. “I have to know, [ name ], if you want to continue on with this lifestyle or not before we proceed with the real rehabilitation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tilt your head to your newfound savior. He said it so nonchalantly, as if learning how to walk or learning that your diet was blood wasn’t rehabilitation.
“Well, we have to teach you how to feed properly so your strength gets back up—unless you just want us to feed you for the rest of your eternal life.” Noya jokes, waggling his eyebrows suggestively in what you’ve come to understand is his typical, joking demeanor.
“I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Noya, can you maybe save the flirting for later?” Yaku grits out—once again slightly mortified. It brings laughter to the man in question; it was like rewatching his own life all over again, seeing him get flustered at the smallest amounts of forward affection. It was endearing, if anything.
“Sure. Let’s get [ name ] healthy first then.”
After coming to terms with your transformation and feeding more regularly, still off of a supply stock that the mansion carried, you were able to attend therapy sessions with Daichi more frequently. And while you hadn’t entirely regained muscle or use of your legs, you were able to at least stay awake more often than not. Rather than being cooped up in the bedroom, you found yourself lounging near the entryway where Sugawara would entertain you with the countless pieces he had written over the years. It was soothing and peaceful and Sugawara’s jovial personality kept you from spiraling into a deeper hole knowing that you died. It was still an insane concept, but the five men in your new home had worked hard to keep you sane. “Ready for your session?” Yaku asks gently as he takes a seat beside you on the luxurious sofa. He’s not as uptight as he was now that you knew the truth, though he still did get flustered when you would openly show affection. Even if it was something as simple as leaning your head on his shoulder like you were now.
“I think so,” doing what you could, you scooted and clambered onto Yaku’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck firmly while your weakened lower limbs splayed across his lap. He tucks one arm under your knees while the other supports your back, effectively scooping you up and brings you to the kitchen where the blood stock is kept. You quirk a brow at the creature carrying you, knowing you’ve already had at least three bags since you woke up.
“Gotta get your strength up so you can recover faster,” is all he responds with before he sets you down on a bar stool. Yaku tears open the bag of O Negative and, much to your shock, he drinks half the contents without swallowing before his lips are on yours. One of his fangs finds purchase on the inside of your lip, sinking down and creating an opening for the blood to flow in for quicker delivery. Usually, Yaku would only have to feed you like this when you were in a weaker state, so it felt a bit out of place for him to be doing it right now, but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. While the blood trickles into the wound, Yaku’s tongue swirls with yours intimately, coating the cavern with the liquid and he doesn’t stop until every ounce is clear from both of your mouths.
“Not complaining,” you say slowly, “but is there a particular reason you wanted to feed me instead of just letting my chug the bag?” As you ask your question, Yaku is draining the rest of the contents of the bag into his mouth before pulling you towards him in another kiss. The question is repeating over and over in your head, he can hear it loud and clear, but the other thoughts are spurring him on further. The thoughts of how Yaku’s touch makes you crave more, makes you want to feel his lips along your skin and his large hands gripping your thighs tightly. Sometimes he’s unsure whether or not you conveniently forget that he can read your mind, sometimes he wonders if you let your salacious thoughts run wild on purpose. His chest is heaving, deep intakes of breath are plunging through his nostrils despite the blood being long gone. He doesn’t want to stop but centuries of control are begging him to.
“We’re going somewhere today, after your PT,” Yaku pants out after he pulls away, tilting his head down because he can’t look at you right now—he’s afraid to. He needs to try to dampen whatever feral thoughts are running through your brain so that his own self-control doesn’t just get tossed out the window. “Noya and I are taking you out for your first hunt.”
“Uh, am I ready for that?” Shit, you can’t even walk in your own yet. Yaku laughs, grateful for the reprieve from your sexually charged thoughts when you point out the setback.
“That’s why the extra feeding tonight. I needed to make sure it was in your bloodstream so that you had enough strength for PT and the hunt,” Yaku adjusts you from barstool, scooping you into his arms once again to bring you to the mansion’s back garden. Daichi is standing a short distance away adorning a tight muscle tee and joggers, while Noya and Akaashi are sitting at the small table with cigars in hand. Yaku steadies you in front of Daichi, the latter holding onto your hands to make sure you don’t fall, before the former joins the rest the clan at the table. Sugawara emerges from inside the mansion as well, passing off a cigar to Yaku while lighting his own. It was uncomfortable in some capacity to have everybody watching—you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being critiqued on your performance.
“I’m going to be one step ahead of you, and I won’t let go, okay?” Daichi holds his arms out to give you space to take your first step. You take in a sharp breath, the scent of scent of cigars and pine trees overwhelming your nasal cavity. When did you sense of smell become that strong? With trembling limbs, you cling onto Daichi’s muscular forearms, praying to god you didn’t fall as you took a step forward.
“Hey, look!” Noya cheers from a distance, nudging Yaku in the stomach. “She took a step!” The excitement in his voice was evident because, after months of constant aid, Noya has come to have a soft spot for you almost as much as Yaku does. The two of them are watching, utterly enthralled with the way you’re only moving mere millimeters—but millimeters is better than nothing considering the muscle decay and atrophy that had taken place over the last year.
After the first few steps and curling your toes in blades of grass, your feet begin to relax as you tremble forward. Gripping Daichi with all the strength in your hands, you pick your right foot off the ground and place it forward. “That’s good, [ name ]! Gimme one more,” Daichi, a therapist in more ways than one, encourages you to continue moving, wanting to make sure both legs were receiving equal treatment. You repeat the motion with your left leg, taking two full steps. While not perfect, you kept moving forward with his guidance until his calves hit the stone wall of the garden fountain. Considering where you started, twenty five feet was a tremendous distance to cover. “You did amazing, [ name ].” The vampire holding onto you smiles big, pride swelling in chest like a father praising his daughter for taking first in a beauty pageant.
Yaku and Noya are by your side immediately in celebration, the latter much more overt with it as he’s hugging you and holding you up. “What do you think, Daichi? Is she strong enough to at least witness a hunt?” The former asks. Mentioning the “H” word again perks your ears up because a part of you almost wishes to not have to engage with whatever a hunt entails, but part of you also knows that this is your life now. Everything you thought you knew was no longer valid—this was your rebirth, your awakening.
“I think she’ll be okay if one of you carries her for it—“
“Ooh, I’ll do it!” Noya cheers almost too loudly in your ear as he’s still holding you. Without so much as a chance to offer a rebuttal, you’re swept up into his arms as he stands at full height before glancing at his mate. “Ready to go?” Yaku gives a nod, gripping tightly at the satchel over his shoulder before the three of you are off at breakneck speeds. They’re silent as they travel—perhaps because were they to open their mouths at this speed and velocity, they would be catching a whole lot of bugs in their mouths. To your surprise, the three of you end up outside ten-foot-tall brick walls and a chain link fence.
“This is a...”
“A prison,” Yaku answers simply, as if he were answering with what his favorite color was rather than his favorite meal, “considering our diet, we choose to collect our sustenance from those who do not deserve redemption.” There’s a malignant, dark twist in the headman’s words.
“Personally, I prefer going after the rapists and child molestors. Those bastards deserve to be drained of every ounce of blood.” Noya snarls—you could tell it was personal for him. But how could he tell? Surely it wasn’t just written on placards outside of prison cells.
“Easy. Walk in, ask them what they’re serving time for, and their minds fill in the blanks.” The foreboding you sensed from Yaku deepened even further; deepened to the point where it felt like a magnet drawing your eyes towards your savior. But he looked anything but. Yaku stood merely a few inches taller, his claws sharpening and turning black while red overtook the once golden hues of his irises. You look up at Noya curiously, wondering if he’ll undergo the same sort of transformation, but before you could even question it, the gold in his own eyes had already molded into crimson rings.
The three of you enter the building with ease, aiming for the top floor because, according to Nishi, that was where they kept the worst criminals. It played out exactly as Yaku said it would—ask them what they were imprisoned for and, if they were in captivity under the basis of rape, first or second degree murder, sexual assault, or anything involving a minor, he would sink his fangs into their jugular vein and drain them dry. Though he announces his satisfaction, he remains in this strange form that he has presented you with as Nishinoya passes you off into his arms.
The smaller of the two repeats the same process, taking down two prisoners of his own before taking the satchel off of his partner’s shoulder. Noya continues questioning prisoners, letting Yaku’s power of mind reading acting as the judgment call, before pulling out a small, sharp knife from the satchel and slitting each victim’s throat while holding them downcast like a gavel banging down the rule. As blood fountains from their necks, Nishinoya holds fresh IV bags over the openings to collect whatever comes out like rain. Was this how they ended up getting blood for you to feed over the past year. “Yes,” Yaku answers evenly, looking down at you with his crimson eyes, “but we were hoping to actually teach you how to feed tonight. Are you up for it?” Every nerve in your body seemed to scream no, like you shouldn’t be witnessing these events let alone doing it.
But your guts are telling you yes, yes this is now your way of survival. These men were horrid, their victims needed justice. You needed justice. Giving Yaku a small nod, he gives you instructions while the three of you search for your very first meal. Considering neither your fangs nor claws had grown in, as you were very much still a baby by all intents and purposes, Noya would have to incapacitate your prey for you while you bit the inside of your lip, reopening the same puncture wounds from earlier, to allow easier access for the nutrients to enter your body. Once they were out, Noya would puncture the jugular vein for you, while Yaku dipped you down far enough to feed.
Your lips latched on to the raw skin, hooking your own canines for leverage as you draw the blood from your dinner and the moment the warmth seeped into the opening, all doubts about what you were doing had flown out the window. You adjusted the way you’re sitting on your victim, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as you continuously sucked every drop of life from him. “Did she just—“ Noya questions, not missing the fact that you had just moved your atrophied legs. And while Yaku is very aware of his mate’s balking, he can only focus on the way your lips mold against your meal’s neck or the muted slurping noises bubbling from your lungs like a woman starved. In a sense, that was quite literal. Noya looks over at his partner—silence wasn’t typical of Yaku when asked a question—but words are lost on him when he sees the way Yaku’s eyes are hungrily staring at your form and he’s unsure if its due to hunger or hunger. The moan that leaves your tongue when you finally pull away from the now empty body confirms the shorter one’s suspicions. “Not that seeing you turned on doesn’t turn me on, but you might wanna put that away, Morisuke.” Noya teases before walking towards you, the call of his given name causing Yaku to snap out of his stupor. Well fuck, he snarls bitterly in his head. He was gonna have to feed again, considering all the blood he had just consumed went straight to his cock.
You feel alive—more alive than you felt in ages. And despite your attempt being incredibly shaky, you managed to stand on your own two feet, using the wall to brace yourself. Noya rushes over to your side to try to hold you steady, asking if you’re alright. “I’m more than alright, Nishi, holy shit.” He has an arm under you, carefully bringing you back towards Yaku, though for the most part, you’re walking entirely on your own.
“So what, have you guys just been giving me snacks this whole time?” You sneer teasingly, though Yaku looks away because your accusation because it isn’t entirely wrong. The blood packs were indeed “snacks” but were usually only used to stave off hunts, that way they didn’t just decimate the prison on an every other day basis, but were also used as post coitus replenishments.
“One more?” Yaku coughs out, as if choking on his own spit. “We can do this one together, if you like.” He’s trying to be polite, despite the feral look in his eyes while also trying to calm down the lust and adrenaline running rampant in his system.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” As opposed to carrying you this time, Yaku flanks to your empty side, helping you walk between him and Noya until you came upon your next victim. This one was larger than the last few—stocky and skin marred with stories of a brutal past. No matter which way you looked at him, he looked bitter, and after asking him what he was in for, you figure he was a perfect candidate. After all, intentionally murdering his wife and three children was heinous by definition. Yaku approaches the much taller man, crouching ever so slightly in the event your meal tried to escape; not that he could even if he wanted to. The leader of the Damned was behind him in seconds, snapping his neck to disarm the threat that was his build.
To everyone’s surprise, you made your way over slowly to the now lifeless, six-foot-three prisoner while Yaku punctured holes on both sides of the victim’s neck, allowing the both of you to feed. It was oddly intimate, being so close to someone while sucking the literal life out of somebody. The lapping, sucking noises brought back salacious thoughts to the man beside you, and he’s doing all that he can just to avoid trading sustenance for an erection again. Meanwhile, Noya is watching both of you in amusement. Does his partner realize that he’s gingerly scraping his claws along your spine? Is it out of encouragement, or interest? Yu can’t quite tell, but he finds it entertaining nonetheless. Even more so when Yaku squirms at the throaty moan leaving your lungs when you pull away, lips plump with a bead of leftovers dripping from the seam of you mouth.
Either way, Nishinoya knows it won’t be long now until Yaku cracks. Despite the great amount of self-control he tends to exercise, Yaku is but a simple creature that cannot stave off his desires and Noya is no different. They were going to give way to their desires sooner rather than later, but they made a vow eons ago that revenge must always come first.
One year, three months, one week, and four days. That was how long it had been since you died in the alleyway. Today was the day those boys were going to die for what they did.
By now, you were fully functioning; walking on your own, feeding on your own. The only difference between you and the others was that you still slept, though not very much anymore, and according to Akaashi, it would be a trait that you would grow out of maybe two decades after your first century. That was actually the sole reason there was even a bed in the house—Nishinoya still slept merely because he enjoyed it. He wasn’t like the others who had found a passion project that kept him up around the clock, so more often than not, he would join you in bed. After all, it was originally his bed.
And more often than not, Yaku would sit in the spacious window sill while Noya wrapped his arms around you protectively in your shared slumber, as if to abide by the repeated mantra he had said over the last year—he’ll be there when you wake.
Your dreams are no longer memories, as you’ve got caught up to current events thanks to the playback speed that they paced themselves at. Now, you’re able to recall on every single event of your life that you’ve witnessed thus far with perfect detail—including the faces of your five murderers. Each of them belonged to your university Pike fraternity; two of them were a year older than you, two the same age, and the one who had the knife to your neck was a freshman not yet old enough to drink legally, but apparently old enough to to pull the metaphorical trigger and throw the knife that had gone through your entire body, severing your aorta in your heart.
After researching in the form of disguise, you learned that tonight Pi Kappa Epsilon would be holding their annual holiday gala; fancy words for a giant frat party for those who chose not to return to their hometowns for Christmas. Knowing how these events tend to function—it was relatively easy to sneak in, even with Nishinoya and Yaku flanking your sides. You flashed the doorman a crisp fifty, knowing males always had to pay a fee for entry while women always got in for free. The bouncer grins upon seeing you in a tight, red body-con dress, but the grin is immediately displaced when his eyes land on the two men beside you. Giving your best, most flirtatious smile, you grab both of their wrists before heading inside. “Don’t lose me, okay?” You yell over the pounding music.
“We won’t,” they say in unison. Noya gives you a reassuring smile, hand pressed against Yaku’s back gently, while the latter purses his lips together in discomfort. “Just keep talking to me through here,” he adds, pressing his cold lips to your forehead chastely, “and I’ll find you.” You give him a confident nod before you throw yourself into the throng of people to find your targets. It proved a bit of a challenge, considering the strobe lighting and the myriad of people—all of the men looked the same on top of that. But once your eyes narrowed in on the man you first lured you, it was game over.
Like a tiger ready to pounce, you sauntered over to him, pushing aside whomever he was with at the moment before wrapping your arms lewdly around his neck. He looks down at you skeptically, but otherwise pleased with the bold actions. From a short distance away, Yaku and Noya are hiding like wallflowers, listening to the resounding chant happening in your head that screamed to kill him. “You know,” Noya chimes in lowly, distracting Yaku from the way your hips are grinding and gyrating against the strange man’s, “we could just kill the entire fraternity.” Yaku shakes his head—Noya was always fond of the idea of revenge against all who were guilty by association. While the others in the clan gave into his persuasion, Yaku never found it amusing.
“What if they had no idea that their brother killed someone?”
“They probably bragged about it,” Noya grumbles. From his own experience, the shorter of the two liked to think that he knew how these people tended to operate.
“It’s go time.” Yaku says abruptly, eyes locked onto your retreating form as you pull one of your rapists by the tie and lead him out the frat house. The two Damned maneuver their way towards the quietest space, hunting for a window they can exit out of to follow you without garnering too much attention towards the situation. When they end up on the sidewalk outside of the Pike house, they see you parading—brokenly, complete with fake stumbles to allude to you being drugged again—the man by the tie until he shoves you into the same alleyway.
Close behind were four others, all built and stocky as they traveled in their pack and making their way towards the alley. You were cornered amongst trash and dead rats, the five of them trying to zero in on you, yet you showed no fear. Instead, you stood at full height with the addition of your stilettos, as your body transitioned into it’s more predatory form. “Remember me?” You ask sweetly, cracking your knuckles nonchalantly. Your hair that’s covering the ugly mound of flesh scarred over from your injury is swept over the opposite shoulder, giving them full view as your short, blackened claws graze over the skin. “Over a year ago, the five of you brought a woman to this alley, raped her and you,” a feral snarl leaves your lips as you point to the youngest fraternity brother, “threw a knife into her back that went all the way through her heart and killed her.”
The five of them begin looking over at each other, wondering who ratted out who considering they had never spoken of the night since it occurred. It was easy to avoid, considering the body was never found. There was never any evidence. “W-who are you?” The youngest one squawks out.
“Don’t remember?” Your head snaps in the direction to one of the older members. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.” There’s no more room for talking, no room for rebuttal. Instead, you grab the same man you lured into the alley by the tie, bringing him close enough to snap his neck. When he was neither moving nor breathing, the remaining four began to back up.
“Yo, this bitch is crazy, let’s get out of here—“
“You think you’re just gonna get away?” Noya laughs dryly as it crescendoed into full volume, shaking the walls and mimicking an earthquake that did not expand beyond the walls of the alley. The remaining four fall to the ground, not prepared for such loud noises let alone a trembling earth to accompany the sound. Yaku shakes his head in utter disgust before the crimson ring in his eyes locks with the prey.
“Done eating, love?” He calls out, causing the four other frat boys to look over in horror at the “e” word. Once again, you’re standing at full height, the back of your hand wiping away the blood that had escaped from your mouth from your feeding.
“Not quite yet,” With every step you took, they trembled back, only to be met with your two saviors blocking their only exit. The youngest one is hiding all the way in the back, trepidation causing his bones to rattle within his skin as his back hits Yaku’s calf. “I’m still hungry.” Noya lets out a snort at this—he truly did love your sense of humor.
“You’re next.” Yaku looks down at the young boy, only nineteen-years-old, who had been your executioner. That same boy looks at the leader of the clan in horror, eyes wide because he never in a million years saw this as his end. Effortlessly, Yaku picks him up by the collar of his shirt before tossing him in your direction. Rather than catching him, you gathered your claws together to form a single point, driving the makeshift lance through the stomach of the one who had ended your life. Without verbalizing it, you gave the boys permission to feed on the other two—so long as it wasn’t the one that you had tried to bite down on when he rammed his cock in your mouth.
You had plans for him.
In the mean time, you pull the now lifeless body off of your bloodied hand, drinking down whatever was dripping down your arm before tossing him off to the side; you had one more pressing matter to deal with. The last of the boys—the dessert to your meal was pressed against the wall as he tried to run from this situation, watching in mortification as Yaku and Noya beheaded the other two brothers with their bare hands, feasting on their prey. “Like I said,” you sneered as you approached the last one, ripping off his pants and boxers much like he had when he violated your mouth. “I should have bit your dick off when I had the chance.”
And so you did.
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Yaku muses, having finished his meal, gawking at the way you had just left the last one along the wall with his penis bitten off all the way down to the base while you returned to the youngest member again, draining your murderer for all he was worth.
“I dunno, it’s kinda hot, babe.” Noya jokes, watching in amusement as well.
“I’m actually kinda full,” You shrug, having drained the stabber entirely—that put your body count to two full bodies. “D’you guys wanna have the last one? I got all I wanted from him.” At sound of your permission, Yaku approaches the last one with a predatory glare, not daring to break eye contact as he asked you one more question.
“[ name ], do you feel that justice been served?” With a nonplussed grimace, you gave a shrug.
“If anything, these assholes got the short end of the stick. They murder a girl they raped so she comes back from the dead and kills them all with two beautiful men by her side? Yeah, I’m happy with that.”
By the time you returned home, you were an entirely different creature. You felt...free. Like there was nothing else anchoring your dead heart, like you no longer had a tether to this world. Like you had no purpose.
So now what?
Silently you meander back to your shared bedroom to further contemplate your existence, the boys you left behind glancing at each other in concern. “Want me to talk to her? I might be able to better sympathize.” Noya asks quietly so that your now heightened hearing can’t quite pick up on the conversation. Regardless, Yaku shakes his head. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling and not just because of his ability to read minds.
“I’ve got a few things I want to say to her anyway.” Noya presses a tender kiss to his mates cheek before he flits away to hang out with Daichi as he normally does when he’s not with Yaku, while the head of the clan makes his way to the room. You’re lying in bed already, the dress and stilettos shed and traded for bare feet and a slip. Despite your back turned towards him, you feel the bed dip as he lays beside you, something atypical of Yaku. “How do you feel?” His voice is merely a whisper as he cautiously wraps an arm around your waist.
“Shouldn’t you know the answer?” You retort, but Yaku doesn’t recoil because he knows. He knows the sort of limbo you feel you’re placed in now that your postmortem mission had been carried out. What were you supposed to do for the rest of eternity besides act as an impromptu executioner, feeding off of the worst criminals within a hundred mile radius?
“Is that all you see us as?”
“No,” You say quietly. These Damned men had accomplished great things, from what you knew of them, in their lifetimes. Sugawara has continued composing even well after his other alias’ deaths, Akaashi has been working on a research piece for decades regarding cancer in the form of preventative measures rather than a cure, in addition to a cure. Daichi had participated in the Olympics a number of times, Yaku was once a politician in multiple countries and Nishinoya had worked closely with electronic developers over the years including Microsoft and Linux. “You guys have accomplished so much in your lifetimes, I just don’t want to be some sort of disappointment—“
“[ name ], we never knew were going to do those things. We just kept pushing on, finding out things we were passionate about and since we have unlimited time, we’ve had time to hone and perfect those skills.”
“What if I never do anything that great?” Yaku lets out a sigh, turning your now fully restored body around to face him and pressing his face into your neck. Over the duration of your rehabilitation process, he’d become so over protective of you, wanting what’s best for you in any capacity yet never fully being honest with himself.
“You have time to figure it out,” he mumbles into your own icy skin, lips tickling your veins. “Until then, just stay? With me?”
“Yaku...” he had never fully outright asked you to stay—only alluding to it in the past with talks of the future.
“I-I want you,” he whispers almost uncharacteristically. Being a diplomat, stuttering was not a thing that Yaku did very often. “To stay with us forever. To stay with me forever.” This is it, he figures. It’s now or never. Yaku can’t stand the idea of you leaving the clan, leaving him when he hadn’t yet had a taste of you, had you in any other form than a few mere kisses for feeding or in fantasies. Pulling away, Yaku shifts once again so that his arms are holding his weight above you, his lips ghosting intimately over yours.
Both of you are overly aware of the attraction that’s there—you knew of the daydreams you’d had of him throughout the year and with his ability, he was unwillingly subjected to them. Reaching up slightly, your lips press against his hungrily, your tongue immediately dancing along the seam of his lips, begging for permission to enter. Yaku doesn’t waste a second dropping the support from his arms in favor to press his body fully into yours because he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s evident in his fervent kiss, it’s evident in his ever present erection. A mewl warbles in your throat as you feel him grind against you.
Why the hell had you waited so long for this? Why did he wait so long for this?
There was no more waiting.
Breaking a part for a moment, you pull the slip off your torso hastily while Yaku unbuckles his belt and frees his lower half. Impatience floods you as you tear off the thin Henley he’s wearing, leaving the two of you entirely bare in front of each other. The large scar on your bosom that had made you self conscious for months suddenly felt dull in comparison as you’re met with the varying marks that marred Yaku’s skin. From what you could tell, they looked like whiplashes. “I need you now,” he pleads, ignoring your wandering thoughts as he hungrily pulls you in for another kiss. Though rather short lived, your overwhelmed with warmth and pulsing in your core as his fangs run along your neck before sucking lovingly at your collarbone.
“O-oh,” you moan out wantonly, clutching at his shoulders to keep yourself steady. With no preparation, not that you needed any, Yaku slowly sheaths his member inside of you, the girth stretching you deliciously. For a moment, the two of you remain still to bask in the reprieve you both felt, unaware of the third party member watching pleased in the lounge chair across from the bed. “Fuck,” you hiss out between your teeth as he’s pushing in inch after inch.
“You’re doing so good, princess,” for a moment, he’s impressed—taking eleven inches with little to no preparation can be torturous, and he knew that from experience. “Come on, baby take the last of it—oh fuck yeah,” Yaku groans out as soon as he’s balls deep within you. The two of you are still, enjoying the moment of togetherness before he bottoms out entirely in your sweet little hole. His hips move almost languidly so as not to hurt you but good lord for all that is unholy, is he holding back.
Soft whimpers leave your lungs each time his hips snap back into yours—why the hell hadn’t you fucked Yaku sooner?! A throaty chuckle grumbles in his chest at the thought. Even with him slamming his cock in you at half-force, his mind is intertwined with yours to the point where your thoughts feel like his own. “I had to take care of you princess, wanted to make sure you could handle me fucking you.”
“Then fuck me harder, ass-hat.”
“He likes it better when you call him senpai.” Nishinoya calls out from the opposite corner of the room, as if he wasn’t just leisurely watching his partner ream himself into your core. You let out a scream and at this point, you aren’t sure if it’s because Yaku have a particularly hard thrust with the head of his dick meeting with the edge of your womb or if Nishinoya’s presence surprised you. Even more so to see that he was stark naked, stroking his cock that he’s presenting to your mouth.
“Suck off your senpai, princess.” Yaku whispers devilishly in your ear, holding his cock still within you as he does so. Tentatively, you give a kitten lick to the head before you, testing out Nishinoya’s reaction to the motion before deeming him worthy. A soft grunt escapes him, his body more than welcoming of the sensation—but it just wasn’t enough for you.
“I need a better reaction than that, Nishi,” You joke.
A poor plan on your part.
The shorter of the two looks down at you curiously, a wicked twist of his lip displayed for you as he briefly tosses an amused look towards Yaku, to which the latter lets out a chuckle in addition to the shake of his head before he starts to withdraw his cock from within you. “How’s this for reaction?” Noya chirps before deftly wrapping his claws in your hair, slamming his engorged member down your throat while Yaku simultaneously thrusts back inside you. The carnal desires that had run rampant through your mind on occasion had built to this moment, built up the needy desire that the boys finally had the chance to release with you. “Yeah, you take that cock in your throat, baby. Show us how much you’ve wanted us from the start.”
Nishinoya is absolutely relentless as he repeatedly withdraws and replaces his erection in your mouth, pulling so far back as to have his tip tease and smear pre-cum along your lips, all the while chanting praise and how much he loves you; how much he’s dreamed of having you between him and Yaku. The latter can’t help the stuttering motion of his hips as he unabashedly strokes his member along your walls, the tip of dick all but moving into your womb. “Yeah, princess, take your senpais cocks so fucking good, yeah? You want us to fill all your holes with our fucking cum, don’t you?” You can only wail out around Nishinoya in your mouth in response, clenching and squeezing your pussy tightly around Yaku inside you. The clan head lets out a very audible groan at the abrupt friction. “Oh, fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, senpai’s gonna cum so fucking hard inside you, yeah yeah yeah.” Yaku is absolutely wrecking and ravaging your lower half while all the foul, salacious words leaving him were only serving to turn on his partner even more until the both of them hold still to empty their first loads inside you.
After a momentary reprieve, the two of them withdraw from you, the smallest whine leaving your lips at the distinct emptiness. Between pants, both of the males look to each other before letting out a laugh. “Princess,” Noya calls out from your left, golden eyes light and airy as they gaze at you, “did you think we were going to let you cum?”
“Y-yes?” Why wouldn’t they? Wasn’t that just normal, sex etiquette between partners?
“Oh no, love,” Yaku adds, “We’re gonna show you just how much we love you, gotta coat every inch of your skin in our fluids before you can even think about cumming.” Before you can blink, the boys are up again with Nishinoya taking his position with the tip of his still hardened member teasing the outer lips of your pussy. Meanwhile, Yaku makes it a point to slap your cheek with his own erection, making sure to keep your attention and focus on him. Simultaneously, they thrust into their respective orifices that they’ve traded—Yaku treating you much more delicately versus Noya who shoves his entire mast inside your depths.
“Oh damn, babe, you’re so fucking tight!” The latter howls, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Despite having identical lengths, Nishinoya was much more rough and rigid, your walls acclimating to every vein out of necessity before relentlessly pounding away at your insides. At his pace, your pussy doesn’t even have a chance to miss the feeling of fullness. Your voice is no longer coming out in moans or screams due to the damning pace—only in a broken staccato of warbles from the speed that Noya’s fucking you. “Yeah, baby? Gonna stay here with us forever and get dicked down every night? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
But with the almost tender, loving way Yaku is holding your throat while repeatedly sliding his cock in from tip to base, there is no actual way you can reply. Instead, you let out grunts and cries of affirmation because you would stupid not to welcome the way these two were screwing you. It’s also more than just that.
These two, as well as the rest of the brood, had taken you in being inches from death, presented you with another opportunity for life that served as an opportunity for you to seek revenge, while caring for you and almost...loving you.
“We do,” Yaku bites, withdrawing his cock from your lips offended at the thought of almost, “love you, that is.” The hand that is cupping your throat moves to brush the backs of his claws along your jaw before pulling your chin and torso up so that Yaku can kiss you fully. There is no lust or wanton desire in this kiss—it’s love through and through that is simultaneously cold yet warm.
“You’ve been dreaming about us for a long time, princess,” Noya grits out, his peak approaching all too quickly with the way you’re clenching around him with no relief. He’s panting heavily, no longer caring about his need to assert his dominance in any capacity; all he can think about is cumming deep inside you while you cum around his thick cock. “We want to make your dreams come true.”
Yaku pulls away from the kiss in time to hear your cries—a delicacy he had never had the pleasure of knowing in a past life—as you cum with Noya. The latter is holding still for a brief moment before withdrawing, his spent body collapsing beside you. You’re sensitive, you realize, as Yaku slides back in to reclaim his space. Your walls are still trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm, but Yaku is much more gentle this time around. Pressing his body flush against yours, he wraps both his arms around you with one cradling your head, the other around your lower back to pull you as close as possible. His shallow moving thrusts in accompaniment to his pulsing girth are enough to trigger yet another orgasm in direct succession, and coercing his own orgasm. “Please stay, [ name ].” He mumbles into your hair as he feels his seed spurting within you. Though you supply no answer due to trying to catch your breath, you only nod in response. Yaku remains still inside you, so as if to seal both his and his partner’s emission within you with his own softening cock, smiling at the simple fact that you had nodded in response. “Get some rest, little one,” He adds, adjusting so that he’s on the opposite side of you and a now sleeping Noya. “We’ll be here when you wake.”
#haikyuu took over my life#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu scenario#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu!!#vampire!au#supernatural!au#vampire!Yaku#vampire!Noya#vampire!reader#vampire!Daichi#vampire!Akaashi#vampire!Sugawara#yaku morisuke#yaku x reader#i love yaku#hq yaku#haikyuu yaku#happy birthday Yaku#nishinoya yuu#nishinoya imagine#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya scenarios#implied Daichi x Sugawara#haikyu
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My Series 10 Rewatch: Knock Knock
Hello, my fantastic friends! I am sorry I have been so quiet. I got coronavirus in February and it really wiped out my energy. I am finally starting to bounce back and feel like leaving the house once more. This beautiful Scottish spring we’re having has definitely helped. I also lost my grandpa this week, so I've been all over the place, emotionally. Obviously, such a big pause in the middle of a series 10 rewatch is disruptive, so I would rather just dive back in if it's all the same. When last we were gathered, I was talking about "Thin Ice." Since then, the ice has thawed and I am now up to series 10 episode four- "Knock Knock," by one-time Doctor Who writer Mike Bartlett.
An aspect of Doctor Who which I love about Steven Moffat’s era is that the Doctor and his companions didn’t spend every waking moment of their lives together. Unlike companions of the past, who basically left behind their family lives to galavant across time and space, the companions of the Moffat era had home lives. Not only did this make for some humorous moments, such as the Doctor landing his TARDIS in Clara’s bedroom on date night, it also set up the characters for something of an actual life. "Knock Knock," uses this separation of worlds to establish one of its central themes- can you have a normal life with the Doctor?
Being a poor student in London, Bill is forced to look for a flat with a group of people she only sort of knows. This is your typical group of students, eclectic and young. The biggest commonality they have is they can’t afford a place on their own. One of the ways in which this makes the episode suffer is that none of them has much chemistry together. However, it does enable Bartlett to explore deeper concepts, such as the fear of meeting new people. Our characters are forced to deal with a deadly situation with people who are basically strangers.
The other commonality they have is Bill’s mate, Shireen. I got momentarily excited the first time I heard her name, but only because I thought it was going to be Rose’s best mate Shareen. Also, it would mean that Rose and Shareen had like a 10 year age difference, which would be weird. Shireen is a bubbly sort that seems gung-ho about everyone getting on. This doesn’t stop 90% of their interactions from being a total cringefest. Not one of these characters is particularly likeable. Pavel, the musician of the group, and the one character with maybe a bit of culture becomes a wall pretty early on, so it’s a bland time from there on out. But that’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves.
After a montage of disappointing flats ("Oh my god, the toilet is is what room?") the gang stands defeated. But like a beacon of light, comes a glimmer of hope in the form of John, a man who clearly prowls the streets for groups of youths. The gang is willing to overlook the obvious stranger danger about John because he has something they need- a giant house at a reasonable price. It’s another one of those deeper concepts being explored here that I think Doctor Who does so well. The show operates well when it preys upon basic fears. In this case, it’s the fear of the creepy landlord. The fear that your home life may be dictated by a creepy man who carries a tuning fork and forbids you to enter certain parts of the house like it’s Beauty and the Beast.
Arriving as if to say "No, Bill, you can’t have a normal life," is the Doctor. After using his TARDIS to move her belongings, Bill is quick to send him off. She even foregoes the traditional six-pack of beer and pizza, the universal payment for friends helping one move house. Of course, the moment the Doctor enters the derelict abode, his Time Lord senses are pinging. The Doctor isn't just an embarrassing "grandfather," type, but also a threat to any semblance of a normal life Bill can hope to have. As I said, this is familiar territory in the Moffat era. A funny side effect of the Doctor's attempts at allowing his companions to live normal lives is it only adds to the sharp contrast between both existences. Perhaps this is immersion therapy on the Doctor's behalf. Letting his friend remember what the world is actually like so as to not disassociate her from her own time and place. Or perhaps it is the Doctor softening the blow of eventually losing his friend.
The Doctor leaves long enough for two things to happen. Firstly, Pavel is listening to some music and suddenly is eaten by the house. Nobody seems to notice. Secondly, the new housemates have a bit of a games night for their first night at 11 Cardinal Road. There's no cellphone reception and the house is nowhere near up to code. I applaud them for trying to build up these characters, but it never really gels. Their merriment is cut short after hearing a noise in the kitchen. Scooby-Doo style, Bill leads them to the pantry where she finds the Doctor never actually left. They decide to head to bed, but the Doctor decides he's going to stay up with Felicity and Harry and listen to music. He also reminds Bill to maybe check on Pavel who has not been seen all day.
Now back in the sitting room, the gang is surprised to find John present. He addresses their problems with the amenities and waxes strange about having a daughter to look after. The Doctor asks John who the Prime Minister is, but he is unable to answer. Before they can ask more questions, John disappears down the hallway, but not before sounding his tuning fork against the wood. On her way to bed, Bill has the most cringe conversation with her new housemate, Paul. Paul fancies Bill. Bill fancies girls. I get that they may have wanted a scene where Bill flat out says to the audience that she's gay, but Paul comes off as super creepy. I wouldn't have an issue with this, but I feel like we're meant to find Paul endearing. It's hard for me to place what exactly they were going for in this scene. Paul, mate, you just met her. You just moved in together. Maybe let the paint dry first.
Luckily, like a shot from the dark, the plot saves us from having to stand in the hallway of awkwardness. Paul, having gone to his room, screams. Thinking he's having a laugh, Bill and Shireen go knocking on his door, only to find the return knock sounding across the hallway wall. The house begins to creak and shudder while doors slam shut. It's like something from a haunted house movie. In many ways, it follows a familiar trope from Doctor Who. The house haunted by aliens. We've seen it in "Ghost Light," "Hide," or even Edward Grove from "The Chimes of Midnight." Though I would argue that here, there is less grist for the mill. "Knock Knock," is a more stripped back, simple story. And in that way, I find it begins to lose me as the mystery unravels.
As the housemates run through the house, trying to escape whatever is happening, they find Pavel in a state of flux. Something about the music on his record player skipping has kept him from being completely absorbed by the house. I will say, this is a great bit of body horror on the makeup department's behalf. Everything about Pavel looks like a guy getting eaten by a wall. As it turns out, the tuning fork and the music have more to do with what's going on as the Doctor discovers the house infested with alien lice known as "Dryads." Using his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor is momentarily able to draw the bugs out from the grain of the wood. The Dryad is not your common woodlouse, as it appears to move through wood like water. Even in my second viewing, I found myself wondering if this is kind of cool or kind of dumb. I vacillate between the two.
In many ways, this is both Doctor Who's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The surreal nature of a time-travelling police box affords us things like sentient planets, talking chair frogs, and killer mannequins. On the other hand, it gives us farting aliens, gamma radiation in the form of lightning, and the Doctor screaming until a window smashes. I remember reading an Eighth Doctor book where horse people read books on their planet by licking them and tasting the story. Sometimes, Doctor Who is bloody brilliant, and other times, it's bloody embarrassing. But that's partly why I love it. This kind of freedom gives it freshness. One week we get a priest buzzing like a wasp as he talks, the next we get River Song and the Vashta Nerada.
Now, I'm not saying "Knock Knock," is bad, but it is a little dumb. I've already complained about the dopey kids nobody cares about, and the silly aliens that aren't that scary, but the end of this episode is where it really kind of evens itself out. As I said, I vacillate between this being a good and a bad story. We learn that the reason John doesn't want anyone up inside the tower of the house has nothing to do with safety, and everything to do with a dark secret. After discovering the unclaimed belongings of previous occupants over the span of decades, the housemates learn that they are just the latest in a long line of people being fed to the house.
I found the motivation of the Dryads a little hard to understand. It seems weird to me that a woodlouse would want to eat people, but here we are. As it turns out, John has found a way to keep his "daughter," Eliza, alive using the Dryads. After noticing they respond to sonic vibrations, John has been using the tuning fork the make them do his bidding. It's a simple arrangement- he feeds students to the Dryads, the Dryads keep Eliza alive as a wooden woman, hidden away in the tower like some forgotten ghost. Once again, the makeup department has done its job. You genuinely believe Eliza is a woman made from wood. I especially like how they used papery twine for her hair.
They do a good job giving reasons why the housemates can't call for help. No wifi, no reception. But it is hard to imagine that over the course of decades, nobody came looking at this giant house for clues of their missing loved ones. Maybe they did and the house ate them as well. All I know is that it's mighty convenient that not one prospective tenant said to their mum or dad "Hey, I'm moving into a giant house at 11 Cardinal Road." Hell, even the Doctor helped move Bill in. What was John's big plan for when the Doctor came around looking for his "granddaughter?"
By this point, several of the housemates have been eaten by the house. Honestly, I could care less about which ones. I think Paul got his, and of course poor wooden Pavel. Or would that be wooden panel? I can't stress how little I care about these characters. Am I cold? I don't think so. We never see them on the show again. They don't matter in the slightest. With the Dryads closing in, the Doctor and Bill have to think quick. Which is when they realise that the timelines don't match up. If John were Eliza's actual father, he would be long dead. Seeing as he is not also made of wood, they deduce that he is in fact not Eliza's father, but her son. Unable to say goodbye to his ailing mother, John has been preserving her. Eliza has been through so much trauma that she has completely forgotten this fact. It's all rather depressing if I'm honest.
Depressing is okay though. What's Doctor Who without the occasion trudge through misery? Of course, it's not all doom and gloom, as Eliza restores all of the young people, once again leaving me to question why they were eaten in the first place. Were they transmuted into energy and simply recombined? It's the best explanation we're going to get, which is fine. David Suchet gives a powerful performance as he begs his mother not to end their lives. His performance is, by far, one of the strongest elements of this episode. Eliza and John are both overtaken by the Dryads, who are off presumably forever. I suppose the threat of Dryads is no longer looming now that their puppet master is no longer pulling their strings.
All in all, I find myself without much to say about this episode. It's not bad, but it's not a banger either. Even writing this review has been a bit of a slog. I find myself hard-pressed to really have any strong feelings one way or the other, and sometimes, that's just how it is. I will say it is the brownest episode of Doctor Who I’ve seen since the ‘70s. The BBC really knew how to dull down colour back then. Sigh... The best I can say about "Knock Knock," is that it's fine, really. There's nothing really wrong with it other than being kind of dull. I think if they'd have tried harder to make the characters more relatable it could have helped. Not every villain needs to be the new Daleks or Weeping Angels. Unlike some of the other episodes in my series ten rewatch, my opinion on this episode has changed very little. I would be as equally surprised to hear someone say this episode was terrible as I would be to hear it's their favourite. This is the kind of Doctor Who you can have on in the background.
Much like we followed the lacklustre "The Unicorn and the Wasp," with the transcendent "Silence in the Library," I am very excited for the next episode in my rewatch- "Oxygen." Another anti-capitalist romp in the vein of "Smile," is just what I need right now. Now that I am back and feeling up to writing again, you should expect to see a bit more output. I wanted to cover the BBC's Youtube Dalek series, of which I have not watched a single frame. I've been putting it off because I wanted to talk about it on here. I have a few non-review articles in mind, but I don't like to promise too much. What I am saying is that you can expect more, soon! Take care!
#doctor who#series 10#knock knock#David Suchet#bill potts#Pearl Mackie#Twelfth Doctor#Peter Capaldi#dryads#wood#bbc#tardis#rewatch#Time and Time Again
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Is Dylan really Kieran? A Theory Dissection:

So I’ve taken the time to process everything that’s happened in the amazing season finale of Purple Hyacinth because I didn’t want to rush into posting about it and I really wanted to let my thoughts about it simmer for a bit. I also decided to reread the entire season over the course of a couple days to get the best idea of how it worked as a whole. Once again if you haven’t read this yet please do yourself a favour and check it out it’s really phenomenal.
I’ll probably make a few posts about PH over the next couple weeks as we wait for season 2. However I won’t post an analysis of the finale mainly because Lanxyuu already did an amazing job of that already. Check it out if you’ve got the time, it’s 10000 words of pure analytical gold. Writing about any of that would be redundant. That being said the first thing I’m gonna talk about is the whole ‘Is Kieran actually Dylan’ theory that’s the new hot thing in the fandom, mainly because I’ve received a lot of requests to discuss it and also because I feel like I can add my own points to the debate.
So let’s just get it out of the way: do I think Kieran is Dylan? As of right now the answer is no. I just don’t think we have enough evidence to prove it, and what’s there is more circumstantial. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy theorizing about it. I’ve found that discussing and sharing theories and ideas is one of my favourite ways to interact with a fandom. So I’m gonna put all of the evidence that I’ve observed in the entire first season both in favour of and against this theory and show why I think we can’t say that Kieran is Dylan. I’m not telling you to not believe it. Believe what you want! Like I said it’s fun to do this. I’ve just been specifically asked my opinion and I want to be able to justify it through what I’ve seen in the comic itself.
For more of my posts about Purple Hyacinth check out my ‘ph posts’ tag!
So with all of that out of the way, let’s get started!
Evidence in favour of Kieran being Dylan:
One of the things I think most of us can agree on is that Dylan probably isn’t really dead. In general if I’m not shown a body, I don’t believe they’re dead. I’ve seen far too many movies and TV shows and have read far too many novels to be fooled by that. As of right now, in my head, Dylan is alive, or at least wasn’t killed in the bombing. So obviously if he isn’t dead then that frees him up to show up in the plot at some point or maybe he was there all along...?
This kind of ties into my next point: what happened to him then? His hat was found at the scene, so he must have lost it at some point before the explosion. This is all speculative, but he could have been snatched up by Tim and the driver in Lauren’s parents car. We heard Tim mention that children were in the car so it’s somewhat plausible that Dylan could have been kidnapped. Maybe he saw something suspicious and snooped around a bit which lead to him being snatched up or something. From there he’s tortured and broken and made into an assassin for the PS. Only he isn’t broken. He steels his resolve and does as he’s told because he’s now set on biding his time and getting revenge on those who robbed him of his life and humanity. It makes for a pretty compelling character arc.
The tragedy of his character arc could also be supplemented by the fact that when he was young, he wanted to be a doctor and save lives, but they made him into an assassin who takes lives. Brutally. Violently. Painfully. All of this would emphasize why he views himself as such a monster. The person he is now goes against everything the person he once was values. It’s this dichotomy that reinforces his ‘monster’ persona and allows him to justify this view of himself.
Another point is that this could explain why Kieran hesitated when he could have killed Lauren way back in episode 3. Of course he would hesitate to kill someone who was his close friend. Most of his murders were of people he either didn’t know or didn’t know very well. If he’d had a close friendship with her in childhood, it would obviously make him stop for a moment when he realizes who she is, just like he does in that episode. We even see Lauren say that if she knew why he hesitated then ‘everything would be different’. Obviously if she found out that he was her-long-lost-thought-to-be-dead friend, the person who symbolized her guilt for not stopping the bombing, the plot would be waaaaaay different. Just like the line about being the most blind of all in the prologue, the implications of this line are going to play a major role in the story, and this theory could explain that.
Then there’s those god damned purple hyacinths. Obviously Dylan’s knowledge of these flowers, both in their cultivation and meaning, are things that Kieran must know too. We pretty much know that they’re his signature for both their royal symbolism and their use in mourning, and that Kieran must have a stash of them growing somewhere. There’s also the fact that Lauren, who we know is very intelligent and well educated even at 12, doesn’t know the meaning of purple hyacinths other than their use as a symbol by the royal family. This tells me that their symbolism outshines their meaning in the traditional sense within the pop culture. Honestly, I didn’t even know the meanings of most flowers except for roses until I started reading this Webtoon. I’m not saying that people don’t know the meaning at all, I’m just saying it may not be common knowledge.
The final point I wanna talk about in favour of this theory is their appearances, since that will bleed nicely into the points against it for obvious reasons. So many people, myself included, have noticed that if you switch Dylan’s hair and eye colouring for Kieran’s, he’d basically look like little Kieran, and yes, I see it too. You could say that he could be dying his hair, it’s not crazy to believe hair dye exists in this world. How else does Belladonna have pink hair if they didn’t have access to dye? Unless it’s just stains from the blood of her victims… Actually that could be a theory lol but that’s not the point. Point is Kieran could theoretically have his hair dyed black, but it’s a bit of a stretch, as I explain in...
Evidence against Kieran being Dylan:
While he maaaaay be able to change his hair colour from light blond to black, there’s no way for him to change his eye colour from grey to blue. If rectangular glasses don’t even exist in this world yet (thank you Soph for this justification for why you gave him Harry Potter glasses), there’s no way that they’d have access to contact lenses yet. The other argument is that his eye colour changed with age but that feels a bit too... convenient for my taste. Odds are our boy Kieran is sporting the look he was born with. Additionally, with everything going on in his life and his priorities, when would he have the time to constntly maintain this look, and why would he feel the need to disguise himself in the first place? He already operates in the shadows of the night and none of the authorities, other than Lauren, were able to get close enough to describe his appearance. There would simply be no need for all of that extra disguising.
Speaking of his appearance, we’ve seen one of his victims recognize him before he murders them. He says something interesting: ‘You were that boy’. Now this whole thing is one of my favourite mysteries of the series, so you best believe I am jumping on this shit the second we get more info about it. But for now, I want to use it to show that this aristocrat, who were loyal to the crown and presumably hadn’t seen him in years, took one look at Kieran’s face and immediately recognized him from when he was a child. If this man knew he had these same features as a boy, then it’s safe to assume that he’s always looked like this. This also links him to the aristocracy, since there’s no reason why this man of high status in opposition the PS would know anything about him unless he knew him before he entered the PS. Dylan, on the other hand, was the son of a gardener. He was friends with Lauren sure, but he clearly was of a lower station in society than someone like Lauren or the other aristocratic families. It’s doubtful that he’d leave such an impression on this high society man.
On top of all of that, if he were really Dylan and this man really did see through his change in appearance, why wouldn’t Lauren see through it too? She was one of his best friends and thinks about him constantly. If this man was able to recognize him in a single moment but she still doesn’t recognize him after months, then odds are he just isn’t Dylan.
There’s also the fact that Kieran doesn’t lie when he tells Lauren his name. It’s the same name that people like Belladonna know him by and it’s the name he uses when he becomes the archivist in Lauren’s precinct. Like he said before: there’s no need for him to hide his identity. He’s protected by his reputation and the PS itself. I can see an argument where he could have ‘renounced’ his old name because the person he once was is dead and only the monster remains, which is again a cool theory , or you could say it’s to keep people from knowing that he’s actually alive. But there would be no real need for him to change his name. He could have two names just like the hyacinths have two meanings. I will say that this theory about ‘Kieran White’ not being his true name could also work in favour for him not being Dylan too as, if he was an aristocrat, the PS could have changed his name to hide him from his family as well, but that’s neither here nor there, just something to consider. For now we know that he really is Kieran White and there’s no evidence to disprove that (yet).
Finally, many of the points listed in favour of the theory; the motive, the character arc, the knowledge of flowers, it’s all circumstantial. For all we know, Kieran could be Dylan Rosenthal, or he could be some boy connected to the aristocracy or even the royal family. He could be Dylan Rosenthal, or he could be his own character with his own arc yet to be fully revealed who’s connected to Lauren somehow. The meaning of purple hyacinths could come from Dylan’s prior knowledge, or they could common knowledge and Kieran just bought ‘Gardening for Dummies’ or some shit to make sure he didn’t kill them. Any number of different things could really be at play that we simply don’t know yet. But we do know that a man recognized him at a glance while Lauren, Dylan’s best friend, didn’t recognize him whatsoever. We do know that there’s no proof that hair and especially eye colour can be changed in this world. We do know that we still have quite a ways to go in this story and that the answers aren’t what we expect.
Eph and Soph have done an amazing job of revealing the story to us in disjointed pieces so that when we finally get that one piece that fits, may of them fall into place too. How many of us realized it was her parents’ car in the picture before it was revealed in episode 49? Or thought that Harvey was a spy all along? I don’t think we know nearly enough about him to prove he’s Dylan, but what we do have at this moment is enough to disprove it. What we have now is primarily speculation versus hard physical evidence. We need to accept that we don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle yet and that we’ll only receive new ones little by little.
So, until we learn more about Kieran’s past or until we see ‘changing-eye-colour’ join ‘lie-detecting’ as a new supernatural ability, I’m afraid that I can’t fully get behind this theory. Again, this doesn’t mean I’m telling you not to believe it. Thinking about all the implications of Kieran being Dylan is a lot of fun, just like thinking about Kieran’s backstory and motives is fun. And I could be wrong about all of this, who knows? Writing this just got me really excited to see where his arc will lead us and even more excited for season 2!
Thanks again to everyone who wanted me to discuss this! I had a lot of fun writing it and would love to hear feedback from you guys about any thing you may want to contribute that I may not have mentioned. This post was born of a sleepless night into morning and a need to get all my thoughts out of my brain so it could finally turn off and let me sleep. I already have an idea about what I’m gonna write next so stay tuned and thanks again for all the support!!
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