#because he is a very heroic and brave man

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

Some people wish Ariel did more during climax of The Little Mermaid, but honestly, I'm glad it was kept as it is. Not only did the climax transpire like that precisely because Ariel was the one who killed Flotsam and Jetsam after Ursula was about to blast Eric off existence, and my girl was definitively not about to let that happen in the absolute slightest, but it shows the lengths Eric was willing to go to save and keep Ariel safe, demonstrating his deep love for her. Also, Ursula was forcing this man to marry her, taking away his whole automony away from him, using him as a means to an end, so hell yes he deserved to impale her ass. He's still one of the extremely few Disney characters to deliberately kill the villain, and he did it without the help of magic, so that alone makes him the GOAT.

[shrimsour]

ALAS IT IS HERE, MY PLAYABLE 2X2 CONCEPT

🦜 Design and lore

Basically this is a timeline of my 1x headcanon where he got sealed in a limbo bc of admins and met 2x whose been confined to the mindscape ever since he got corrupted. Glitch family ensues (the dynamic is still the same from my last post)

But then something different happens than in the original ending where 2x gets deleted by the Spectre, they are merely wounded and left alone in the mindscape. 2x finds a way to escape and falls into the Forsaken realm. Sheneginans ensue

Lots of cool art and trivia under cut ⬇️

🦜 Their sword is larger than them and EXTREMELY HEAVY. Due to being young they cant handle it very well. During rounds Spectre takes away their flight wings which completely throws off their balance, it's why they can't stun. It's also just heavy as fuck its like Thor's mjolnir, only they can pick it up

🦜 They are the second survivor to smile all the time except its not creepy! (Looking at Two time) they have a very heroic attitude and will to help and save people. Sometimes the braveness is their biggest detriment (weakest out of all the survivors health wise)

🦜 Bonded with 07 due to being in a similiar situation (his dad wants to kill him instead)and also just likes to imagine what would his life been like had he had a normal affectionate father

🦜 Besties with Guest, he's like her cool military uncle PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA

🦜 Fishing skin by my friend Fungerfan69. Loves to fish! They've been locked away in the mindscape for so long they forgot how real grass feels. They're just a very happy boye who loves nature.

🦜 Is actually quite authorative in the cabin, likes to take charge and people just listen because it's so hard to deny their puppy eyes

🦜 Their kit actually synergizes gameplay wise with Taph and Dussekar, they really boost their relevance. Man I wish 2x2 was real

🦜 1x (pre forsaken) was actually very protective of 2x, he didn't know how to be affectionate and wouldn't even admit to loving them, due to his nature of being pure hatred. But that kindness has always stuck with 2x. Unlike Telamon, 1x gently guided his swordsmanship, strict but motivating, always giving a helping hand to stand. Nowdays after rounds with 1x, someone has to stay with them to console them, sometimes everyone gathers and they watch disney movies while 2x falls asleep between cushions.

🦜 There's a lot of bad blood between Shedletsky and 2x. On one hand 2x can recognize that Shedletsky is basically a stranger but thats also what pisses them off so much. He's everything they wanted from their father - Telamon, this is what he could've been, they just weren't worth changing for ig. And they're also 11 years old and don't have many coping mechanisms, they're just angry and bitter. This guy who bears the face of a man who cursed them with all his hatred, abandoned them, never truly loved them it felt like. How can they not be uncomfortable?

[goldfades]

more luke hughes fics im literally on my knees

i haven't written for baby luke in forever and since i am deathly ill, here is a little fic about being sick.

Luke Hughes is dying.

At least, that's what he claims, his voice scratchy with dramatic flair as he groans from the depths of your bed—not his bed, of course, because apparently yours is "infinitely more comfortable." Never mind that his mattress is practically brand new, or that he has a fancy memory foam pillow that cost more than your monthly grocery bill. No, according to Luke, your slightly lumpy, average, definitely-not-fancy bed holds some magical, restorative quality that his can't compete with. He's staked his claim, a tangle of long limbs and disheveled blankets, looking like the tragic hero of his own melodramatic play.

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the heap of misery that is your boyfriend. His hoodie is bunched up around his waist, revealing a sliver of pale skin, and his nose is an impressive shade of pink. A tissue dangles precariously from his hand, and a mountain of its crumpled comrades litters the floor beside him like the aftermath of a very soft, very sneezy battle.

"I think I'm dying," Luke mumbles, voice thick with congestion, like he’s auditioning for the role of Most Pathetic Human Alive.

"You're not dying," you reply, deadpan. "You have a cold."

He sniffles dramatically, pulling the blanket up over his head with the kind of effort that suggests he's lifting a thousand-pound weight. "It's worse than a cold. It's, like, a super cold. A mega cold."

You roll your eyes, but there's an undeniable fondness tucked between the sarcasm and sighs. Crossing the room, you perch on the edge of the bed, nudging his burrito-shaped form with your elbow. "Did the super cold steal your ability to get up and drink water? Because there's a glass on the nightstand that's been sitting there since this morning."

A muffled, tragic noise emerges from under the blanket. "It tastes better when you bring it to me."

Of course it does.

You sigh, not because you're annoyed, but because this is Luke—your Luke. And if he wants to be a big, whiny baby about his "super cold," you can let him have this one. Grabbing the glass, you shift closer, lifting his blanket just enough to see his pouty, flushed face peeking out.

"Here, Your Highness," you say, gently pressing the cool glass to his hands. He takes it with exaggerated gratitude, like you've just fetched him water from the Fountain of Youth.

"You're the best," he croaks dramatically, taking a small sip as if it's his last.

You brush his messy hair off his damp forehead, the affection slipping through without resistance. "Anything else for the dying man? Grapes? A cool cloth? A lullaby?"

His eyes, glassy from the congestion, brighten a little. "A cuddle might help. For medicinal purposes."

You chuckle softly, sliding under the covers beside him. He immediately drapes himself over you, all heavy limbs and needy warmth, burying his face into your neck with a satisfied sigh.

"Definitely medicinal," he mumbles, already sounding less miserable.

And even though he’s sniffly and probably spreading his germs, you let him.

A few minutes pass, filled with his occasional sniffles and dramatic sighs. Then, with a pitiful groan, he mumbles, "I might never recover. This could be it for me."

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, the corners of your mouth twitching. "Oh no, what will the world do without Luke Hughes?"

"It'll be a darker place," he whispers, clutching your arm weakly, as if this is his final goodbye. "Tell my story. Be brave."

You snort, unable to hold it in any longer. "I'll make sure they build a statue in your honor. Right in the middle of the living room."

He peeks up at you with glassy, puppy-dog eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the act. "Make sure it’s life-sized. Actually, bigger. Like, heroic proportions."

"Naturally," you reply, stroking his hair with mock seriousness. "Anything for the hero of our time."

And even though he's being ridiculous, you don't mind. Because he's your ridiculous, dramatic, oversized baby—and you love him for it.

A week later, the universe proves it has a twisted sense of humor.

You’re bundled on the couch, tissues piled around you in a sad, crumpled fortress, your head pounding and nose stuffy—an exact, miserable mirror of Luke’s performance from last week. The only difference? You’re not nearly as dramatic. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Luke, on the other hand, is thriving. Not because you’re sick—though he does seem a little too smug about it—but because he’s now fully recovered and basking in the role reversal with alarming enthusiasm.

He saunters into the living room, wearing that infuriatingly healthy glow, hair tousled perfectly like he’s in a shampoo commercial. He’s holding a cup of tea with both hands, an exaggerated look of sympathy plastered on his face.

“Aww, look at my poor, sick baby,” he coos, crouching beside you and tucking the blanket around your shoulders like you’re fragile glass. “Is this what it felt like when I was dying?”

You glare at him, voice raspy as you croak, “You weren’t dying.”

“Oh, I was,” he insists dramatically, setting the tea down with the flair of someone performing a sacred ritual. “But unlike some people, I didn’t complain.”

You snort, which unfortunately turns into a cough. Luke pats your back with an over-the-top gentleness, like he’s comforting a Victorian child with consumption.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your clammy forehead with mock tenderness. “I’ll tell your story. Be brave.”

You weakly smack his arm, but the grin on your face betrays you.

[richeeduvie]

SHIFTING ✭ DRABBLE

When witnessing you "flirting" with Robby, Jack attempts to cope with the way you, or the feelings he has for you, are changing him.

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

THE LENGTHS PART ONE

PART ONE DESCRIPTION: Jack meets the new nurse Robbie's been fawning over, only to then take the next couple of nights to pathetically cope with what he's feeling for the peppy, sunny young woman he's just met.

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

Think of Jack Abbott not being able to help the man he's becoming because of you. There's almost a point where he wants to blame you, but he'd never do that. He could never do that. But there's the problem, as capable and beautiful as you are, he shouldn't think you're perfect. Or innocent. Even in love. Even when he can finally accept the way his bones tense and his blood rushes around you, even when he becomes brave and secure enough in himself to almost feel entitled to the way he thinks and feels about you. He shouldn't look at you with a reverence you'd only reserve for...God. Or Jesus. Either one.

This is not the man he is. Even when he's falling for someone. What exactly are you doing to him?

"You're biting your lip again. That's your "I'm about to yell at Robby through the margins of the chart" face. What is it?"

There's nothing like sound mechanical symphony of beeping monitors and overhead pages to aid in witnessing you flirting with Robby yet fucking again. It would've been a month ago that Jack's annoyance would've been chalked up to the slight unprofessionalism of you two distracting him and other staff, but Jack can...possibly admit it now, he thinks it's flirting, and it's getting to him.

It's just that, even if he likes you, why is it getting to him so fucking badly?

"Excuse me, I never yell at you through the chart. And I am also...just now...communicating feedback."

"...No. You never have. But I'm sure I'll agree with your passive-aggressive, very legible "feedback."

"I've been told my handwriting is perfectly readable and bubbly."

"Much like yourself. I agree."

You laugh, nudging Robby with your elbow. Dr. Robby to you. Always professional in name, even if you're practically turning Jack's best friend into mush.

Jack squeezes the clipboard in his hand when he stops hiding behind the corner. A month ago, even if your peppy conversations with others spread like wildfire over his chest, the guy would've never actually have stopped behind the wall to eavesdrop on said conversation...to collect more material to get pissed at.

He's not the same man he was a month ago, and he's certainly not the guy he used to be before he met you. But he guesses that's the point, every time you meet someone, you'll never be the same person you were the second before they walk through the door.

And every time you catch his eye and offer that blinding, casual smile, Jack has no choice but to think the person he's regressing into is worth it if it means he has you. You. You. You.

Awfully capable and genius and horrifically beautiful.

But still, Jack hates the twitch of his jaw when he realizes that smile you're giving him right now is a shared one. Not completely his. That it would've been if you just stuck to night shifts like he suggested.

"How’s that post-op gallbladder doing in 9?"

You salute him. Robby smiles something at him that's almost an amused disbelief. But why are you amused, brother? You know her so well, you work together in ease as if you've known her more than the four months she's been working in the Pitt.

"Stable. Labs are improving. I already rechecked his hemoglobin, too—holding steady."

"Good. Let me know if his belly gets tense or he spikes again. No heroic discharges."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

Jack nods. Starts to walk away.

"That’s her way of saying, 'Don’t micromanage me, old man.' Am I on the nose or--”

Jack blinks to the floor when you laugh. He stops mid-stride and turns slightly.

"Stop, you’re gonna get me reassigned to nights."

Just enough to let his eyes linger on his best friend. The closest man he's ever known. One of the best doctors he's ever seen. Jack could hope that if you were another pretty and sickeningly wonderful girl, the grip of his fists would be just as tight as it is now, because the ridiculous hellfire of his pangy-fucky-jealousy wouldn't be the result of you and you alone. It'd be on him.

It'd be on the type of man he becomes when he...when he...

“What was wrong with your night shifts?”

“…Nothin, Dr. Abbott. Just riffing.”

"Well. Glad you two are enjoying yourselves."

...When he falls in love. Fuck him.

But this is not him. The way his voice goes flat and casual is not him, but it's what he says and what he feels because of you and you and you--this sunny little nurse who knows too much for her own good.

There’s a beat. A weird silence. Robby furrows his brow. You straighten instinctively, and Jack almost feels guilty, but that held confidence in his sharp, accusing quip is also who you're making him become. And maybe he'll be sorry for that.

"We are, yeah. Helps the shift go by faster."

"Right. I'll see you."

Jack walks off without another word. Sure. Maybe he'll be sorry for that tonight. Maybe he won't be when he gets home, because he'll be too close to blaming you when he thinks of every time you've smiled at him today, and he wonders--no, he thinks that you have to know.

"Did I miss something?"

"No… I mean, I don’t think so."

And Jack could be sorry when your voice betrays the uncertainty...when it almost sounds...hurt. He can't because he isn't there, but if he were-- if Jack saw how his comments spiked you, maybe he'd actually try to stop himself from the man he's becoming.

But he doesn't. So. He'll act like this all over again tomorrow. He's very proud of himself.

"Did you see her handle that psych hold last night? You know, when I was a kid, I was a huge fan of WWE...for some reason, and that's what it was. He was swinging that chair like he was in WWE and she--"

Jack pauses at the sound of your name.

"She kept her cool. And he was handled like that. I would've cried. Maybe."

"Enough with the goo-goo talk, Mel."

"You would've cried."

Mel says her statement to Santos in a way that isn't unkind, just flat.

"I--no! I would've been the last person to bawl. But...yeah, it's almost resent-able, the way it's like she's made of chamomile tea and ten hits of morphine."

"Um...I don't think, maybe--that resent-able's a word?"

"It’s wild, isn’t it? I know she’s a nurse, but every newbie follows her around like she’s an attending. It’s kinda hot."

"Um. I wouldn't say hot--"

"Work with me, Mel. Please. You're brilliant and no, HR is not right around the corner."

Jack can see Mel smile from where he's standing, as if it's worn with an "Oh, yeah. I can do this."

"Just be careful. I have a mind to think that, possibly, Dr. Robinavitch is already interested in her. Please don't tell anyone that I even think that. I don't--really even think that? It's more so an observation that could totally be misconstrued as--"

"Yeah, well...he probably wouldn't be the only one."

"...Who are we referring to?"

The girls leave with singular laughter, but Jack doesn't move. And again, he'd never linger on a conversation just to make himself...twitch, and get tense.

But here he is, his face calm with a breathing that's steady--but shallow, sharp. He stares at the floor as if trying to reason with himself. It’s nothing. They were joking. It was just talk.

But the words—not the only one—they keep echoing.

Who else? Who else but Robby and everyone fucking else?

His mind flashes to how you laughed with Robby earlier in the day, tossing a roll of gauze at his head. How you snuck a granola bar into Perlah's and Mohan’s scrub pockets, or the way you called Santos "Santi" while you patched her up and got her tested when she got stuck with a needle.

Everyone loves you. Everyone's drawn to you. But before, that would've only been an observation, something to tease you over. Not something to turn make his fist bleed.

He bled for people before, got his leg blown up for them. Killed for them, in a different life. But that was for country, and even though that’s a lie in itself, that made sense. There was purpose he found in that for a moment.

How is his rage and blood and...entitlement over you purpose? Even if he could ever...ever actually love you mutually? How could this all be worth something?

Who else?

"Abbott! What--what happened? What the fuck happened?"

Jack opens his fist. He didn't realize he was dripping onto the floor, that thin line made by the depths of his nails. He blinks at his wound, and barely at Dana.

"Jack, you alright?"

"...I guess it's time for sutures. I didn't mean to--wow. Did not mean to color the floor. Sorry, Dana. I'll call Ahmad, I think he's on tonight."

"...Jack--"

Jack begins to walk away, he can feel their charge nurse follow and fail to.

"Do not clean this up. That's not your job. Hell, it's not Ahmad's. I'll be back with towels."

Is that it? Would it feel any more...worth it if he did have you? Would he be easier on the man he's becoming if he had you? God, hopefully not. Hopefully he'd get his fucking act together, because look. Apparently, it's dangerous. Bloody.

Either way, he'd have to become worthy of having you in the first place, and that's never gonna fucking happen.

[he-needs-enrichment]

Expedition 33 post game thoughts

since none of my friends have played the game except for one person currently playing, i need to write down some thoughts if only so i can come back to this later (if anyone finds them interesting that's a bonus). They're gonna be very disjointed.

Also if you haven't finished the game do yourself a favor and don't read this until you did.

Spending the prologue getting to know everyone and setting up the expedition, just for them to instantly die in the first seconds of Act 1 set the tone for the game amazingly. I feel like a huge part of this games message is how death simply happens, and there is no grand plan or justice about it. All those people you just know have had complex lives and relationships gone in an instant.

This made the end of act 1 really click for me, no matter how devastated and sad i was. It made so much sense to me, life isn't fair and death isn't either.

With the power of hindsight, the symbolism behind Verso coming in as a replacement for Gustave is heartbreaking. A sad broken man, expected to fill the shoes of a beloved, kind man he never knew and never was, constantly compared to him by us, the players the same way he is thought of as a bad replacement by of painter!verso by characters in the narrative. The parallels between Gustave and painter!verso in general break my heart.

The way Verso longs for connection, yet works to kill everyone and everything he's cared about so he can finally die. Every time he spends time with the members of expedition 33, he knows he just makes everything more painful for himself, yet he can't help himself, he wants them to feel better, he literally cuts himself in half just to make them smile.

At the same time it's heartbreaking to see how he keeps breaking everyone's trust, no matter how many times they forgive him and how much he tries. I see a metaphor for how trying to avoid conflict by always being agreeable and failing to communicate your desires and needs always ends to hurting both yourself and everyone around you.

Good god did the older brother who loves their youngest sibling more than the world hit me hard. I never see myself as a heroic person, in fact i don't think i could be brave in most situations, but i truly believe I'd let the world end before giving them up.

Speaking of family, painter!renoire is the first fictional depiction of a father doing things "for the family" at any cost that wasn't deeply triggering and uncomfortable for me. He truly loved everyone, and i think he was right in what he did.

The concept of the gommage and the duality of the known, predictable death and the unpredictable sudden death. Both have their own horrors, and neither make it easier. I try to not think much about it, but just knowing that golden retrievers usually don't live much past 10-12 years fills me with dread and makes me cry sometimes, and i don't think I'll ever be prepared (and now I'm crying). At the same time it reminds me that at any point in time, anyone could just stop existing.

There's so much to say about escaping into worlds of Fantasy. Be it books, artistic endeavors or playing video games, clair obscur is a stark reminder of the danger of losing your real time and connections when trying to get away from the world. At the same time, it shows the potential for beauty - kid verso and clea made this vibrant and amazing universe that gave them so much, its only when this universe became escapism to their grieving mother when things went bad.

Im not sure I'll be able to/want to ever replay the game, after seeing the ending. We as players are as much painters as the in universe equivalents. It doesn't feel right to put them all though suffering because we can't let things go.

I got much more to say, but I'll end on a note about the endings.

Sciel and Lune's reactions in Versos ending broke my heart. There's no happy ending in any case. But i still believe it's the right ending, because there's hope for a better tomorrow. Verso is right. Maelle!Alicia could repaint things later, as a more mature and grown person. everyone in the canvas at this point is a repainted by her already. But she needs to live, to grow as a person, and verso deserves to rest. She can't let him go on her own, repeating what her mother did, putting him and the world though the same grief.

The Maelle ending feels straight out of a horror movie. Others have pointed it out before, but the vibrant colorful world is replaced by black and white. The people lost their individuality, and how couldn't they? Maelle didn't know them. Even the people she knew can't be like they were before, because maelle in this version can not accept inperfections. She became a puppeteer, and Verso, who has been trying to get just a tiny bit of freedom his entire life, is just a performer on a stage for her now. He knows it. He hates it. And there is nothing he can do about him. What is horrifying to me and illustrates this disregard for him as a person as opposed to a role for him to fill as her happy brother is that he seems to not have his scar anymore - the one thing he said he kept to show his individuality, his ability to choose for himself.

idk if anyone will read this but if you did, thanks, comments are welcome.

[theredharlotybf]

Can you write for Jeff? I loved your Toby headcannons and Jeff is my bias.

Again, these Headcannons- I don't follow a certain formula so this is not only headcannons but a story- I don't know how to write proper heacannons so here you go.

Jeff the Killer Headcannons

TW: Violence, Blood, Gore, Murder, Non-con, Consensual non-con, toxic relationship-(nsfw part in meeting JTK section), Domestic violence, ( I made Jeff different to other interpretations, you don't like it- get lost)

PERSONAL HEADCANONS

There is no proper way to describe Jeff without including an adjective that links him to being evil.

Because that was exactly what Jeff was, evil. Down to the bone, purely and unconditionally evil.

But how does a sweet innocent boy like Jeff go from being such a good boy to a monster?Simple, because he never was a sweet or innocent boy. Sure, he may have started out as your run of the mill white boy living an upper middle class life- but from the very start, his life was filled with violence.

He was born in an army base when his dad was serving in the military, he and other army buds would often return to their home where they would drink, laugh and occasionally break out into fights- destroying the living room or dinning room, depending where they chose to hang about. His mother was often frightened by his behavior and would often have to call other officers to come and help break up the fights.

This pissed his dad off and while Jeff had never seen his dad hit his mother- there were times where he would see his dad grab his mother by her jaw and push her against the wall- whispering threats or… whatever it was he was telling her. He would purposefully break dishes and tell his mother to clean it up or throw his drink in her face as a way of putting her in her place. He could tell his mother hated his father- tears in her eyes from the humiliation he would put her through, but she put up with it for his and Liu’s sake.

Liu was always on the more sensitive side, he hated seeing their mother like that but Jeff? He felt indifferent to it, if his mother truly hated her circumstances, she was always free to leave.

He remembers the first time he laid eyes on his dad’s army knife, it wasn’t like the regular kitchen knives- the blade was bigger and sharper with a handle made to be held in a bigger hand. He remembered his dad finding him staring at his collection of knives and handed one to Jeff.

“You feel that son? How does it feel holding it?”

“It's heavy…. Why is it heavy?”

“Those aren't your mother’s knives, her knives can barely cut through a steak- this… can gut a man in a single swipe. One day- when you’re older- you and I can go on a hunt- and by that time- the knife won’t be so heavy anymore, I can guarantee that.”

Jeff’s dad isn’t who you would consider an ‘active’ father, he’ll have breakfast with them, go to work, come home, have dinner with them and do what he usually does but ever since Jeff expressed an interest in his father job, hobbies and weapons, he began to invest more time in Jeff, feeding his curiosity on knifes, guns, basic survival and military combat- believing that his son had an interest in joining the military when he was older.

But that wasn’t what held Jeff’s curiosity. His brother once called him into his bedroom because he had found a spider near his toy box and begged Jeff to get rid of it. The elder brother merely whacked his fist on the arachnid and wiped off its smeared carcass on his bottoms. Liu praised him for being so brave but Jeff didn’t feel brave or… heroic. It was a simple kill- an insect that couldn’t even fight back. Nothing too challenging like the rowdy fights he witnessed his dad doing with his army buds. Jeff found himself craving something real- which is why when some of the neighborhood bullies came at him- he didn’t hold back- busting out moves he had witnessed his dad doing millions of times.

It was so bad, the police were involved. Sure, Jeff was bloody and bruised after going up against more boys, but they were in a far worse state than him- his mother cried- screaming bloody murder at him for doing what he did- that he should have ran away- told an adult. But his dad simply pushed her out of the way before telling Jeff how proud he was of him.

Jeff’s father would continuously endorse the violence he had committed, before his deployment, he brought Jeff on a hunting trip where they found an elk, his dad shot the creature in the head and when they brought it back to base- he taught Jeff how to gut it properly. It made Jeff wonder how can a creature bleed so much?

Soon, his dad was off and when his dad came back…. He was different.

He was quiet and feeble- he was near a landmine when it went off and he had lost his hearing- his dad had lost all his friends and seen things that haunted his soul, turning him into a shell of his former self…. And his mum seemed all too pleased with that and Jeff couldn’t help but feel disgusted by him, this was not his father- this was someone else entirely.

When his father came home- his mother moved them all away to Massachusetts where she used their dad’s money to buy a nice big house in a Stepford suburban area where they would all play happy family. Liu fit in right away, making friends at their new school while Jeff just kept to himself. He hated the place, he missed the fights, the men fighting each other in drunken rages- he missed the hunts where he and the other boys learned how to stalk and gut up prey. His mother thought to put him in some martial arts classes like boxing and karate as a way to get out his anger and frustrations but weeks later, he would get kicked out for his instructors thought he was too violent with unchecked tempter and furious impulses- they had even warned her with the way Jeff was going, he would soon end up in Jail.

And she had tried to get his father involved, she failed to see her husband no longer had the strength to do anything and Jeff no longer respected him.

Then came the bullies, Randy, Keith and Troy. These three were the worst of the worst, they were ruthless savages- everyone knew better than to try their luck when they were around, they smoked cigarettes outside school, they destroyed cars, would shake down students with money- they all had been sent away to a juvenile attention centre after one of their shakedowns had ended with with them breaking a students arm in a place where security footage caught the fuckers redhanded.

But they were back now and juvie did nothing to sand away their hostility- they were still as vicious as ever and looking for new targets and it just so happened to be Jeff’s own brother, Liu. He came home after school, wondering where the hell Liu was, he didn’t wait up on him anymore since he wanted to hang out with his new friends.

Police had found him in the park- his face was all bashed in- so bad he required stitches.

Jeff was furious- he got one of his dad’s butterfly knives before finding Liu’s friend’s and demanded to know what happened. They admitted to Jeff it was Randy, Keith and Troy- the minute they saw them headed their way, they bolted- but Liu didn’t get the memo and got caught by them. He found out where they hung out before making his way there.

He saw Randy and Keith by some benches smoking- Troy was over by a burger stand, getting his hands on a quarter pounder before taking a bite into it. Jeff snuck up on him, shoving the entire burger into his hole before punching him in the stomach multiple times, making him throw up violently before kicking him in the head. He got Keith next- stealing some girl’s tote bag, dumping all her stuff out before pulling it over his head and dragging him to a nearby fountain and sticking his head under the water. He was under there for a good minute before Randy grabbed Jeff and pulled him off- leaving Keith coughing up water and trying to catch his breath.

It was then Jeff and Randy got into it. Both throwing punches at each other, grabbing each other by the shirts as they fell onto the grass, Randy getting on top of Jeff- slamming his fist into Jeff’s face- he could taste his own blood as his lips were busted and his nose cracked.

This was the rush Jeff was looking for before he took out his knife and slashed Randy across the chest, making the boy stumble off him. Jeff went full shark mode on him, kneeing him in the face and using the switchblade to swipe at him, drawing ribbons of blood until Randy begged him to stop, tears flooding down his face. Jeff made a break for it before the authorities came.

No one found out it was him but he would rather it stay that way. His mother didn’t even question why he came home with his face looking the way it did, he simply cracked his nose back into place before washing his face and bandaging what he could before going to sleep.

Liu was to remain in hospital until he could recover- everyone was terribly sorry for what happened to Liu, baking them cakes and sending them flowers, one woman, Bernadette had invited his mother and Jeff to come to a community barbeque she was holding.

Jeff didn’t want to go but his mother forced him to, Jeff stood by the fence, a new white hoodie on while the kids ran around giggling and laughing, the men by the grill joking and with beers in their hands while the women and his mother were by the conservatory, drinking wine and talking about their lives. There was only one other person at the event who was his age, Jane Arkensaw, she sat on a swing, reading a book she had brought with her. Jeff saw her in his class and thought maybe he should talk to her- but he couldn’t. Not for one minute could Jeff make himself comfortable- something bad was going to happen- Jeff always had this gut instinct whenever shit was going to go down and it did.

He saw Randy and his goonies hop the fence before withdrawing guns from their waist bands, they had come for Jeff. The adult men approached the boys, trying to calm the situation down while the woman hurried the children inside the house. One of the men got too close to Randy before he shot him in the gut- everyone was screaming and Jeff bolted inside the house. The boys followed him inside but not before Jeff could quickly plan his attack.

He stole a knife from the kitchen before going to hide, the boys split up to look for Jeff, he hid behind one of the doors in the bedrooms as Troy came inside, holding the gun up and searching for him. Jeff got the jump on him, stabbing him in the sides while covering his mouth, Troy’s screams were muffled before he fell unconscious.

Jeff took his gun and looked out into the hallway, as Keith was walking past- Jeff raised the gun at an unsuspecting boy before firing at him multiple times before he fell down the stairs.

This time, it was Randy who got the upper hand- a bottle of Jameson Irish whisky in hand- he smashed it into Jeff’s head, making him stumble into the bathroom. Though Jeff was disoriented, he could sense Randy pointing the gun at him and in a quick motion knocked the gun from his hand. The two boys struggled inside the bathroom, Randy getting the upper hand on Jeff as he pushed him into a cabinet, a bottle of bleach with a loose lid knocking over and falling on both of them- causing their skins to become red with irritation, Jeff knew if he prolonged this, he would be in trouble so he pulled out the kitchen knife and stabbed Randy in the gut multiple times

Randy froze before he coughed out blood, not expecting Jeff to have a knife. Randy sat on the Toilet, holding his stomach as Jeff stood over him

“TROY! KEITH! Damn it- where the fuck are you guys?!” 

“They’re not coming….” 

Jeff felt power coursing through him- this power he had over people. He had just killed two people and soon, a third would die by his hand.

Randy had a look of defeat on his face, knowing he would die but instead, he chuckled. Pulling out a cigarette from behind his ear and using a lighter to light it, this irritated Jeff, demanding to know what the fuck he though was so funny.

“You don’t know Woods? You're covered in alcohol and bleach…. And look what I have in my hand~”

Before Jeff could realise what Randy meant- the Bully took one last puff of a cigarette before flicking it towards him. In a matter of seconds, Jeff was on fire- his voice raw from screaming as he stumbled over to the bathtub, trying to rip the curtain out of the way before getting inside- but he struggled to get them out of the way as he fell into the bathtub, the fire burned him, a pain so terrible it made him falter, he could not get up- then he felt a cooling sensation- someone had used a fire extinguisher on him.

His vision was blurry, Randy had bled out on the toilet and his skin- it made him sick- he tried to get up but slipped and hit his head on the side of the tub. He could hear more screams as the adults came into the bathroom- his mother screaming at him in horror as he passed out.

He remembered coming too, he found himself in a hospital bed, doctors standing over his bed while his mother cried.

“Doctor Shields- my son- my son’s face… his skin! What can be done?” 

“For now? We must let him heal- we can take a look at skin grafts another time when his condition is more stable- but… in all honesty Mrs Woods- there isn’t an inch of your son’s skin that hasn’t been affected. He may very well be like this for the rest of his life.”

“No… Jeff no!” His mother cried.

He lost consciousness again and when he woke up, he was not alone. Next to his bed, in a nightgown, his face covered in stitches, he was holding onto his I.V drip before sitting down, it was his brother, Liu.

“Hey bro… how are you…? Everyone’s been worried sick since those guys came….. I know it was you who attacked them after they got me… you’re always coming to my defence. By the way- the one who saved you was that Jane girl, the one in your class! If it wasn’t for her, you’d probably be dead- so… I’m really grateful to her… Police aren't going to file any charges on you so when you get out- we’re all going to go home and everything will be right again!”

He felt him take his hand.

“Well… maybe not everything will be right again- but I’m going to be there for you everyday of our recovery- I promise you Jeff.” 

Jeff fell back into unconsciousness, his mind drifting through the void- he couldn’t feel anything. They probably had him doped up on so much morphine they had him in a diaper in case he shit himself. God- were are those three assholes dead? He could only assume so, like if stabbing and gunshots didn’t work, nothing would.

But would that be it? Would he just remain an invalid for the rest of his life? Were they gonna put him in a special school where he would have to relearn everything by scratch…?

No…. it can’t be… his life can’t fucking be like that- not to him- not him!

“Jeffery… can you hear me?” 

Jeff could hear what he could only describe as a dark but smooth voice, he opened his eyes, a figure looking down at him, he couldn’t see his face but could make out his outline through the white robe he wore, and the white hood around his head.

“Here me now son, from this moment on- you are the angel of sleep. You will bring terror and despair for all who hear your name- you will die here and be reborn as ‘The Killer’, the one who creeps through the night.”

In that moment- Jeff could feel hands wrap around his through, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He was helpless as dark spots filled his vision before losing consciousness once again.

He was dead

But when he saw the light, he went towards it- he could hear the sounds of frantic yells and panic., his eyes snapped open, a doctor stood over his bed, his brother holding his mother as they both cried, he could hear the flatline of the heart monitor. “Time of death… 13:05-”

“What’s going on?” He noticed his voice had become raspy and alot more dark than it had originally been. Everyone was shocked as the heart monitor went from flatlining to beating again. Both his mother and brother rushed him, enveloping him with hugs, full of despair thinking they had lost him forever. He returned their hugs- although- they felt… cold.

The doctor was astounded, saying it was a miracle. Jeff looked at his hands noticing how white they were, they felt… leathery to the touch.

He was handed a mirror and he was astounded. His black hair had grown a lot, his face looked thinner, he had lost all his baby fat and all he could see was a haunting white face looking back at him. He smiled, feeling his face. He had been reborn- the face he now donned was him, the real him. The him that had been dormant all these years.

“I’m beautiful…” He muttered, but none heard his voice as they were too busy rejoicing his revival.

They all went home and he noticed his things were packed- his mother told him that the family was leaving this place, too many bad memories, they were going out west into the countryside so no one would bother their family again, but it was too late.

The minute he walked inside, he decided no one was going to leave alive.

But before that, it was time for his final makeover- to solidify who he was, his cheeks hurt from smiling too much so he decided to take care of that first, taking the army knife from his dad’s collection, he went into the bathroom where he dug the knife into his cheeks and began to split the open from ear to ear, funny thing was- he still couldn’t feel it. Next, he burned off his eyelids so he could always see him.

His mother had walked in on him, she was clearly horrified- but Jeff still decided to fuck with her, asking if he found him beautiful. She frantically told him yes before leaving to go get his father to show him. It always pissed him off how two faced his mother was, before his father became the weakling he was- his mother hated his guts, never having the strength to leave- only when his father came back as this docile-pathetic bitch- did his mother start to love him.

He went into his parent’s bedroom- grabbing his mother by the hair and slitting his throat before getting on top of his father and stabbing him in the chest multiple times. Then he went to Liu’s room- he didn’t want to hurt Liu… but couldn’t let him off the hook either. He joined him in his room, his hood up, telling his brother to go to sleep, when he was, Jeff set his house on fire. He called 911 before taking all his stuff and disappearing into the night

A week later- he visited Jane’s house. He needed to thank her for her aid in his ascension- thus gave her the same treatment Randy gave him before setting her house on fire, both her parents died but she lived. Both her and Liu remained in comas and soon- he set out on his path as the angel of sleep. The Killer. Jeff the Killer.

As Jeff grows- he quickly finds out his body has become different- and not in the sense of puberty. He heals quickly- which shouldn’t even make sense! At some point- he could see all his teeth- but it was as if the flesh attempted to stitch itself back together leaving two big scars on either side of his face, not that he was complaining. Sure he was beautiful but it made chewing food a nightmare. And his eyelids slowly grew back- however his waterline consisted of black burned rims which caused him to sneak into pharmacies to steal some water drops.

At the beginning- he was a beginner as you would expect, he wasn’t all too familiar killing a bunch of people at one- he had many run-ins with people who were bigger and stronger than him- some carried knives, others- guns. But no matter how badly he got hurt- sliced up or shot- he would be fine. It did leave plenty of scars on his now ivory leather skin but he was fine. He once took several rounds in the chest but got up an hour later.

He can run faster- he gets stronger with every fight and he slowly grows a sleeper build. He doesn’t bother to cut his hair, the long hair suits him better and with his whole complexion, it makes his pale blue eyes stand out more.

Jeff is a man who lives life on the run- but he definitely doesn’t think of himself as some kind of mongrel. Like- he’ll still make time to brush his teeth and make a point to wash long onyx hair every week (What? He tries- okay?) But that doesn’t make his attitude any less poor. We all know Jeff has the foulest mouth out of everyone in the creepypasta roster, a narcissist at heart.

With Jeff’s appearance- he can’t afford anyone to know he exists unless he’s murdering them to death. He would not get a Job- if he needs money- he’ll steal it from the person he murders. If he needs a bed- he’ll kill someone and take theirs- use the kitchen and bathroom while he’s at it. Need a car? 

He’ll just flag someone down and take a ride of them.

Then he’ll murder them and take their car/truck if he likes it enough- acting like a whole GTA character- there is no low where Jeff wouldn’t go- America is his playground, the whole world is his oyster and as long as he can play his games and live life on his terms, he’ll do it.

Loves his knife collection, most of his knives come from his dad- the army knives, butterfly knives- he even had a machete he keeps for special occasions! He had knives stashed in his boots, hanging around his neck- in the waistband of his black jeans- you never know! Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

Does his own piercings, gave himself snake bites and other types of piercings on his ears and shit- got infected cuz he forgot to clean them- but what the hell is advanced healing for if it can’t get rid of infection.

What does our boy do when he is not destroying lives? Well I’ll tell you- he’s listening to black veil brides, Crazy Clown Posse, slipknot- he's such a bad boy.

Enjoys smoking- like his beer and whatever alcoholic beverage he can get his hands on.

Sometimes- he won’t go straight in for the kill- if he sees a man who believes can put up a fight, Jeff is going right for it, because, despite his love for torturing helpless victims who can’t fight back- nothing brings him more joy than going toe to toe to someone who can offer him a challenge- beat them that into submission before killing them.

Jeff is strong- possibly one of the strongest creepypastas with one of the highest body counts- nothing and no one escapes him….

And then there's you.

MEETING JEFF

Jeff has had plenty of women at his beck and call- some who had fallen victim to him, there was never anyone who stood out to him- women to him were there for two things.

The thrill and the kill

Most women were that for him but you? You were something else that made Jeff’s loins itch.

In all fairness- you were a normal girl as far normal could get. Some of your first memories were of watching your mother and father scream at each other back and forth- their marriage had gone down the drain by the time you were five and after one particular fight where they both laid hands on one another- it was time for a divorce.

Your parents had fifty fifty custody for a while before your mother remarried your stepfather, you saw her less and less until finally- you only saw her during the summer while you spent the majority of your time with your dad. Sure, he married another woman and adopted her two sons- your mom was simply too busy with her new husband and replacement babies- like she wanted to forget you existed.

You were a quiet kid, quiet but cautious, you weren’t really in the mood to make friends, not with your home life being so awkward. Your dad did what he could to help you feel less alone by taking you hiking, stalking, fishing- father/daughter time. But you felt so disconnected in your life, your summers were bland and boring, wishing you could just spend most of your time with your dad so you could always be in a consistent place, but your mother made you visit so her side of the family didn’t think she was abandoning you and even when you were over at your mothers’, you were made to babysit your half siblings so your mom and step dad could go out.

At some point, you had become a target for bullies- but what they failed to notice was that you were insanely observant and smart. You knew their schedules and routes, knew the schools layout like the back of your hand and knew everywhere you could hide out til they left. They could never bully you cause they could never find you. You just preferred not to engage, in your mind, nothing mattered…. Until you actually lost it all.

Summer had ended and you had left your mom’s house and taken the bus to your dad’s town before tracking up the lonely hill where your dad’s house was. You figured dad was going to bring you on another tedious hunting trip, your step brothers were going to be annoying as usual and your step mom would try to parent you like she was your actual mother-..........

Why was there blood in the window?

You ran up the hill as fast as you could, stopping at the door- the lights were on- what happened…? You looked through the window and gasped. “Brenda!” You rushed into the house and into the kitchen, dumping your bag on the floor as you approached the kitchen table. Your step mother had been impaled with several knives in her torso- pinning her to the table. You could see all her teeth as a big smile was carved into her face, from ear to ear. “Brenda..!” You cried

Then you heard choking- you hurried into the living room where you found your step brothers, both of them gutted from groin to sternum, smiles carved into their faces- the younger one was still alive even with his guts spilling. You dialed nine one one, telling him to hang in there- but he could only mutter a gurling choke and a “Save…. Yours-self…!” Before dying. You huffed a quiet sob- why was this happening!? Who would do this to your stepmother and brothers?! Where was your dad?!

The police answered your call with their typical “911, what's your emergency?” And you frantically told them your address- to get the cops over- your family was dead! But then- you heard what could only be described as bone’s snapping in the other room- you told them you heard something- they urged you to not make contact- to hide. But something in your gut told you to see. You left your phone behind and reluctantly took one of the knives from your stepmother’s corpse before heading to the garage where the source of the noise came.

There you saw the smiling killer for the first time, the smiling killer beating your dad bloody with his bare fists- your dad… you had never seen him like that before. He looked bad- and he was sent to the ground with one final blow from the nightmarish ghoul.

“DAD!” You cried rushing forward before being struck in the head and falling to the ground. “Oh what’s this? A daughter- I didn’t see her in any of the family photos hanging from the wall~!” He cackled, making his way over to you, pulling you up by the hair. “Aw…. isn’t she just pretty? All she needs is a ‘click’ and ‘click’ and she’d be perfect~” He cackled, each click he made was his gesturing to each wipe on the face needed to give you a smile like the others.

“No…!” Your dad grumbled- trying to get up before falling flat on his face. “Please don’t! No please…!” You cried- your dad’s beaten form- the killer’s malicious gaze. “Don’t kill my dad please! Take me instead- just don’t kill my dad! I’m begging you!” You didn’t know what he wanted or why he was doing this- but not your dad…not him.

“Huh…” The killer muttered. “You know- people at this point often throw their parents under the bus- not take their place… that's a first.” he kneeled down so he could meet your gaze, tears strained your face- you were so utterly terrified- your dad was still lying there! “Dad get up! Please get up!”

The killer dropped you to the ground before going back over to your father- grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t worry daddy dearest, I’ll take care of your little princess~! For now… you can just… go…to….sleep!” The killer pulled out a knife before stabbing him in the throat, once, twice- losing himself in the frenzy as he stabbed your father- all the while you screamed. “NO! NO!”

Your father fell limply to the ground- his blood leaking over the concrete ground- not even twenty minutes in the door- and you’ve already lost your entire family- fire burned within you- your teeth chattered with anger as you furrowed your brows- taking the knife you had in your hand before rushing at him “I’ll fucking kill you!” You screamed

Jeff merely smacked the knife out of your hands before elbowing you in the throat. You dropped to the ground- winded and trying to get your air back before the killer stood before hiding you. “Don’t you worry- I’ll take good care of you~” And with that- he knocked you out.

You later woke up tied to a chair- your dad’s favourite armchair while the corpses of your family remain lined up on the sofa, you cried in horror- the killer reappeared, taunting you. He introduced himself as Jeff- he already knew your name. After digging around in your parents room, he found a photo album that just had you and your dad. “Aww…. poor little (Y/n)... never really belonging anywhere- not with your daddy dearest- nor with mommy dearest… oh- how sad- hahaha!” He cackled before showing you your phone. He knew you had rang the cops and that they were on the way- “You're no fun (Y/n), but don’t you worry. Once the police get here, I’ll take care of them like I did your family here. And once they’re out of the way… hehehehe! I got some great plans for you, me and you are gonna have lots of fun sweetheart~”

You knew you couldn’t let him continue with his plan- the police came and he hid, but not before gagging you. The cops came inside and found you tied to the chair- one of them ungaged you as you saw Jeff approach- you tried to warn them but not before Jeff stabbed him in the head with a butterfly knife. He fell onto your body as Jeff ran away- leading the cops deeper into the house- shooting and cursing at him. You managed to get your hand free before wretching the knife from his head and using it to cut yourself free. From there, you snuck out of the house and to the shed where your father kept his hunting gear. You heard multiple gun shots before there was a sudden silence. You took what you needed and ran off into the woods- if there was ever a time to use the hunting skills dad taught you, it was now.

You laid a trap for Jeff, as he found you in the woods- you ran away and he gave chase- but not before stepping into a bear trap. “AGH!” He yelled, falling over. His foot was stuck- you used your dad’s rifle to shoot him in the chest- killing him… or so you thought.

“Heh heh heh! That's cute…. Real cute! But it takes a lot more than that to kill me~” He chuckled, throwing a knife at you, it went into your chest and you fell, Jeff got up, inching towards you- you used the butt of the rifle to fight him off- hitting him in the head. You hit him over and over again before he stopped moving. You grabbed a rock and dropped it on his head just to be safe.

You went home where you found the police reinforcements- and you were taken to the police station. You tried to tell them it was a man named Jeff who killed your family- he had a smile carved into his face and skin white as snow- but when the police looked where you told them to- they found nobody. Next thing you know- all eyes are on you, thinking you were the killer. You found yourself in handcuffs and sitting in a jail cell- you could only cry and tell them it wasn’t you.

Three days had gone by and you had questioned your sanity- even your mother visited- thinking you had done it which shocked you. You weren’t capable of murder- the only person you killed was the psycho who murdered your dad and his family- no one was on your side.

What was going on… why… was this happening..? Was your brain playing tricks on you…. Had you……. Actually done it? No- your younger brother told you to go save yourself! Why would someone you killed say that to you…. Unless you had just imagined that yourself…!

That night- the police station had gone into lockdown- Jeff had come and he was there for you, wanting to finish what he started, an officer had taken you from your cell to the security room where the chief of police showed you the cameras- of Jeff murdering the officers. You confirmed it was him. You were told to stay put as he and the others dealt with him. You knew they would die fighting Jeff, you snuck away from them and escaped through the backdoor, fleeing from the police station before Jeff caught you

Since then- it has been an endless game of cat and mouse between you two. To Jeff, you were a thrill that would challenge him harder and harder. You would go from town to town, trying to evade Jeff as he pursued you with no end in sight- you had many close calls with the killer where you were forced to fight him off and bolt it before he caught up with you again.

You were tired and depressed, one of your families was dead and the other didn’t help you when you needed it- still, you continued to run and for what? You didn’t know- you had nothing left to live for but you didn’t want to die. You lost your family and didn’t appreciate them while they were alive.

You had to change your name multiple times, you were forced to lie and steal- you quickly learned how to rob people and stores… thankfully you watched that one movie, Thelma and Louise. Always keeping a gun on you and making sure you knew all entrances and exits- you and become a master of escaping the authorities and Jeff, the former who you could no longer trust.

You mostly stuck to places where you could camp out in a truck you stole. Fishing, hunting birds and forest animals- sleeping in abandoned buildings to which you could secure if Jeff had decided to come knocking.

Finally, two years had gone by. You had been all over the country- running from town to town, from city to city, all in the hopes of evading Jeff as he hunted you. He had taken many lives from each place you went to which helped you know when it was time to go.

But it was also how the FBI found you and took you in. They had been hunting Jeff for a long time- with all his murder sprees- they found out it all had a common denominator, you, every town you went to, Jeff followed and wherever Jeff went- people died. You tried to explain to them what the truth of it was- he was chasing you- no one believed you about him and you had no choice but to keep running and running because that was all you could do. The FBI told you that was exactly how they intended to capture Jeff, by using you as the bait.

While in FBI custody- only did you realise the extent of Jeff’s obsession with you.

They explained he would purposefully murder girls that fit your exact profile. Height, width, hair colour, skin color, eye colour, these girls looked exactly like you. The FBI found hideouts where Jeff was living previously, where he left behind photos of you, stalking you so you didn’t see him- a few of these photos to note were covered in sperm….. Like he had been jacking off to you… Beforehand- you simply believed Jeff wanted to settle the score you had with him-.... Not… this!

But soon enough, Jeff had come for you.

FBI agents all came at him, shooting to kill, trying to capture him- but they soon realised as you did that Jeff could not be killed, they were all defeated and you were trapped. You heard Jeff approaching the room you were in and you knew you couldn’t let him take you. One of the agents was idiotic enough to leave a gun in the room and you held it up to your temple. The minute he entered- you pulled the trigger.

Then the gun went off in your hand. You cried in pain, a perfectly aimed knife prevented you from shooting yourself, instead- injuring your hand. Even as Jeff approached you- anger boiled up inside you. “COME ON YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I’m not scared of you!” You screamed, even though you were scared shitless. You always knew this day would come- as much as you didn’t want to believe it. You always imagined how exactly Jeff was going to kill you, like your step mother? Like your step brothers? Like your dad?....like those other girls that looked like you?

“Oh (Y/n)...... poor stupid (Y/n). You have got it all wrong~... I’m not here to kill you.”

The blood of the FBI agents dripped onto your form, from his bloodsoaked body. You should know by now that whatever Jeff has to say is full of shit- that's just who he is-

“We’ve been playing this game for a long time and I’ll admit- at the beginning, I was planning to kill you…. But you’re so much more than that to me (Y/n)- no matter how much I chased you…. You always managed to evade me… and now that I have you…. Killing you would be a waste.”

In a fluid motion- Jeff got you on your stomach before tying your hands behind your back and you began to cry. You knew Jeff was going to kill you, to make you suffer- after everything you did! The nights you spent homeless, hurting other people just for food and money- squatting in other peoples homes, bouncing from one town to the next just to escape the smiling killer, and it all meant nothing…….

You would have been better off killing yourself in the beginning… all because you wanted to cling to life and for what? You have no more family- no friends. “My life is meaningless….”

“No it's not..” Jeff smirked, looking back at you, making you realise you had said that outloud. He put you in the backseat of a car, still tied up as he got into the driver's seat. “You know why (Y/n)? Because you have me…. And I have you….. I’m the only person who will ever give about you… so no more running off, eh?” He snickered before driving off away from the facility you were being held.

He drove for two days straight- stopping every now and then at a gas station for food and gas- always wearing a mask covering the lower half of his face while you stayed in the car. If you needed to be- he would walk to the bathroom and wait til you were done.

You both finally arrived at a home hidden in the woods, down a dirt trail, it was there Jeff untied you, welcoming you to your new home but didn’t make you feel any less confused. What did Jeff want with you? After two years of stalking- he wasn’t even going to kill you?

He brought you into the home- one that looked newly renovated- it had belonged to a couple who wanted to build a life for themselves out in the boonies before Jeff killed them and he thought- it would be the perfect place to build a life….. With you.

At first, you would  refuse to speak to him if you didn’t have to, Jeff would steal food so neither of you were living off of take out which was… nice. It had been a while since you enjoyed a home cooked meal. (Although when it came to these cooked meals- Jeff would have you make them while keeping an eye on you.) Jeff allowed you to have your own room and it felt nice- having a shower and somewhere warm to sleep. You even got new clothes- most of it lounge wear but it wasn’t like Jeff liked you leaving the house- he got the most joy making you wear white dresses.

Jeff would make you play games with him. Most of them board games like chess or checkers where he would ask you questions, personal questions which you believed were meant to get under your skin, so you refused to humour him. But ignoring Jeff was never a good idea as you would find a knife pressed to your throat, the killer demanding you answer him. You did, but tried not to give too much away which still irritated him.

Of course, it didn’t help your mental state that you were living in the same house as the man who murdered your family. It drove you up the wall, you wanted to pull your hair out. You were still plagued with nightmares of that accursed night. One night, you woke up to find him at the end of your bed, watching you sleep. You had freaked out, throwing a lamp at him- hitting and screaming at him as tears left your eyes.

But he had easily subdued you, holding your head against the bed while growling at you to not do that again. You just cried- asking him why he doesn’t just kill you already? He’s taken your family and your dignity, what more could he want? Jeff drew a knife across your perfect face, before muttering- “I’m lonely…”

You were the first person he felt connected to since Liu, he’s seen you rob people- hurt people. You went from an ordinary girl to a harded thug all in the name of survival. He remembers the night you beat him into submission, tricking him with the bear trap before smashing his head in. He liked it, you won against him and you kept on winning- it felt like for the first time in a long time…. He had a friend.

You told Jeff he was insane, that the light of friendship wouldn’t reach either of you for a thousand years. That he’ll always be the man who murdered your father and his family. He then asked you about your mother. He knew your mother came to visit you at the police station where your mother thought you had also killed him. Why would your own mother do that? You hadn’t seen her since then because you didn’t want to lead Jeff to her. But he told you why.

“Because- better to believe you were the killer, that way- if you did get locked up, neither her nor her beloved baby daddy would have to deal with you anymore.- she never gave a shit…!” He cackled.

You told him to shut up, that it wasn’t true! Your mother loved you- she wouldn’t. But then he offered to drive you to your mothers home- cause last he checked, mommy was living the life with her new family- like you never existed. It broke you.

From there- Jeff grew bolded with his actions and words towards you.

One day- he brought you outside where he gave you a five minute head start to run. You questioned his motives but stated he would shove his knife up your cunt if you didn’t run and you did. You ran through the forest with only a white dress on- your bare feet making contact with the soil of the forest.

After running around the forest for an hour- he had tackled you into the dirt, you tried to fight him off  but Jeff was much stronger than you, grazing his knife over your leg. “You lost~” He cackled, before digging the knife into your flesh, You screamed your throat horse as he carved into your leg= finding out later he had carved his name into your leg before carrying you over his shoulder back home.

This became a regular game- he would let you run off- you tried your best to hide from him but he would always find you and he would always find a new spot to carve his name.

But what made it worse was not the fact he would carve his name- but what he did afterwards. He brings you home and licks your wounds clean. Kiss them and lick them as if you were a child who got a booboo. One of his favorite monikers for you was “Good girl~” and for that- he even got you a fucking collar he would make you wear if he was sadistic enough. You had to watch your attitude around him- give him the wrong look, say the wrong thing- put a foot wrong and he would find some way to punish you.

He would force you onto his lap and lift your skirt up where he would spank you- while making you look in the mirror, he would take all your clothes from you and you would be forced to walk around in only your underwear. He would deprive you of your senses, blindfold you, gag you and leave you in a chair tied up for hours- coming in occasionally to tell you of his most recent trophies- telling you about all the terrible things he did to ordinary people- men, women, children.

It was so bad, you had wet yourself one time and he has never let you live it down, laughing at you- mocking you, your humiliation was the light of his life- seeing you cry- just so he could lick those salty tears from your face.

Every day- you had lived in fear of your captor- you hated him- despised him, loathed him.

Always finding some new way to humiliate you or make you bow to him.

It at reached a point where you actually wished he had killed you- you spent two years running from this monster- two years believing he would kill you- not make you his little doll- his to torture or torment at his whim. You needed him dead… no. That was far too good for him.

You needed him to feel every single cell of humility he made you feel- you needed him to feel a fraction of what you felt- so what if you lost your dignity in the process?

It was frighteningly easy on how well you did it. Jeff had so many knives at his disposal, you were so good that day too- eating a bowl of cereal from the kitchen floor as Jeff chuckled at you before getting up to go take a piss- didn’t even notice one of his knives was missing as you slid it into the messy bun in your hair before continuing to eat your food like a dog.

Then came the night time- the part you dreaded most, but anything to make him suffer. There were many times during your life on the run where you considered selling yourself on the curb to make some quick cash- you’ve seen other women do it- it only lasts a few minutes and you would have a hundred dollars in hand. Hell, you had offers from many sketchy people, but you could never go through with it. You clung to the stupid hope that one day- you would make it out of this situation- you were already going through enough- you shouldn’t destroy your self worth for a bit of cash.

Yet here you were in your bedroom- the knife you had stolen under your pillow. You would usually be asleep around this time- and Jeff liked to come around and watch you sleep- it's what he does, but this is how you would catch him off guard. You took a shower, did your hair soft and fine- scrubbed the hair of your body- smelling really nice and even lit a candle beforehand so your bedroom had a sweet aroma. You wore the thinnest underwear set you owned, you hid under the covers and started to play with yourself.

You knew the ins and outs masturbation for a while now- while on the run, you were always stressed out and you found out that the best way to relieve yourself was by massaging your clitorus- it helped released endorphins that you desperately needed otherwise you probably would’ve put a shotgun in your mouth and blow your brains out.

You thought it through- you couldn’t make it too obvious- Jeff is too smart for that unfortunately. You heard the quiet creak of your bedroom door- your back facing it but you pretended not to hear it as you hurried with your massaging- as embarrassing as it was, you were getting turned on with your own fingering but you had to, for your plan. Your breath ragged, your face flushed red as you quickened your pace. “Fuck….fuck…” You muttered to yourself. You could feel your wetness running onto your hand- you heard his approaching footsteps- get ready.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He cackled as he looked down at you, you quickly looked back at him- as if you didn’t know he was there. Mustering feelings of embarrassment, mortification and horror as you pulled yourself away. “Jeff! What- what are you-!?”

Yet he pulled your covers from you, revealing your underwear to his black rimmed eyes- the wet patch in your underwear, he became a shark who smelt blood in the water- you had successfully set him off.

“Oh…. baby! You should have told me you were feeling needy- that's what I’m here for~ But don’t worry, I’m gonna make it all better….now…. Open those legs for daddy~”

You cried at him to stop, but there was no stopping Jeff as he took your face and pulled you towards him, lips planting on yours as he enveloped you in a deep kiss.- your first ever kiss. You wished it was a terrible kiss- but it wasn’t. Despite his semi chapped lips- he moved his mouth against you with a swift agility- conquering your cavern with ease. His tongue invades your space as your tongue clashes with his. You wanted it to be terrible so you could have another reason to hate him- but he was so good at it!

You felt his hand lower to your underwear, his fingers sneaking into your underwear where you soaked his fingers upon touch. “Ohohoho- oh princess. You’re soaking….!” He cackled, gripping your chin and making you look into his eyes. “I hadn’t planned for this… but no time like the present- eh? Don’t you worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good~”

He made his way down your neck, between the valley of your breast where he skillfully removed your bra before kissing down your stomach before landing at your pussy. Using his teeth to remove your lace panties. You had expected him to take his dick out- you didn’t expect him to shove his tongue up there- switching between lapping at your clit and licking at the inside of your pussy. You twitched the level of pleasure unfamiliar to you, but Jeff firmly held your legs apart. “Don’t you fight me baby- no, I’m gonna make you feel higher than you’ve ever been…!” He held two of his fingers up to your mouth, saying one word. “Suck.” You obliged his commands- knowing it would get you closer to your goal as you wrapped your lips around his digits and sucked. “You filthy fucking whore- hahaha! That's right. This is who you are, a stupid slut- but that's alright. Because you’re my slut, my cunt and you won’t ever get it as good with anyone else.”

Once you were done, he used his wet digits and slid them into your pussy while continuing to lap at your clit, making you throw your head back. “Jeff! Jeff!” You cried his name, just like you had practiced, just as you rehearsed. You were so close, so very close- but you had to hold out.

Jeff was so good- he had you dripping before he took off his own clothes, his own erection intimidating as he crawled on top of you. “I love you…” You muttered.

“Oh… do you now?” He chuckled. You reaffirmed before ‘shyly’ reaching up to pull his face down to meet yours as you both shared a soft but passionate kiss as he slid inside you. You gasped- the feeling of his foreign rod as it invaded your cunny. Your captor went at a painstakingly slow pace, feeling every inch of him fuck your pussy red. “Oh baby- you're so adorable like this~” he grinned, licking more of the salty tears leaving your eyes.

He leaned his lips up to your ear, speaking softly. “You don’t mean it when you say you love me. Am I right? I fucking hate liars… but its okay, cause you’ll mean it soon- when you realise I’m the- fuck! The only one who will ever care about you-”

You struck- pulling the knife from beneath the pillow and lodging it in Jeff’s throat- halting his thrusts into your cunt. “You’re right, I don’t.” You snarl before twisting the knife and pulling it out harshly- his blood spraying all over your sweat riddled body before you kicked him off you. There he was, trying to halt the bleeding on either side of his throat as the blade went straight through. He stared up at you in shock.

That's right- you gave up your last bit of dignity- just so you could get close enough to him like this, when he had his guard down. You twirled the knife in your hand, staring down at your captor. “You must be feeling pretty small right now, huh Jeff? It must have felt good- carving me up- tormenting me…. Making me feel less than dirt. You never thought I had it in me… well guess what. I killed you once- I can do it again…!” You smirk before taking the knife and slicing at his dick- he roared in pain through his gargles of blood as you proceeded to stab him over and over again. Did he feel scared? Was he ego bruised that you managed to get the jump on him? Is he angry that he didn’t think you desperate enough to lower yourself just to get him vulnerable?

Good, you hoped he feels all of that- you hope he feels everything you felt the past you months living here under his control. You wouldn’t let anyone take control of your life again…. But what pissed you off was despite his obvious pain, he still continued to smile at you.

“God…. you’re so….*cough!**cough!* beautiful….!”

You ended it by penetrating his skull with the knife. You knew he wouldn’t stay dead for long, you dragged his ass to the bathroom, wrapped him up in a shower curtain and locked the door behind before going to his bathroom and showering all his blood off you. You could run again- maybe you’d be able to evade him for longer- but what would be the point? He would always find you, that's just how Jeff was, he would always find you no matter how far you ran.

But it wasn’t like you wanted to stay here and wait for him to regenerate. You sat on his bed, thinking of what you should do now. Then you remembered what he said… about your mother. He was known for saying a lot of shit to rile you up but your mother… you had to see for your own eyes.

You left for her house, using Jeff’s car. She still lived in that same house you had spent every summer in since you were seven. You pulled up near her house where you saw your family outside- you saw your Granny for the first time in years with your younger siblings, much taller than they had been two years prior. laughing as they followed your grandmother to her car. Then you saw your mother………and she looked well. Very well. She looked great even. Not a wrinkle on her face- not a grey hair in sight- wearing those lovely diamond earrings she received for her birthday and that fucking pearl necklace she got as an anniversary present

And her husband- the one that barely acknowledged your existence every time you visited. Smiling like the happy idiot he was as he and your mother retreated back into their house for the night- your siblings most likely going to spend the night with hers, leaving them all to yourself.

You walked up to the house, you entered the house. You thought of what you’d say to her, ‘why didn’t you believe me?’ ‘Why did you not try to look for me?’ ‘Why did you keep me around?’ but when you came face to face with them- snuggling on the couch, their faces stretched with horror at the sight of you- a weak sentence left your throat.

“Why did you not love me…?” You muttered, tears leaving.

Your mother got up, pretending to be happy as she hurried over to you, crocodile tears in her eyes- asking where you had been and why you hadn’t called her. Completely ignoring what you had just said- your step father looking completely uncomfortable at the situation. Anger rose in you as you looked in your mother’s eyes- now understanding why Jeff had detested liars as vehemently as he did. “I wish it was you he had murdered that night!…. Not dad.”

“Hey young lady!” Your step dad yelled. “You do NOT speak to your mother like that-” You silenced him with a quick slice to the throat, his blood squirted onto your mother before he fell down. Your mother screamed, cradling her now dead husband before shouting at you. Wishing you had never been born. You replied, “I wish you weren’t such a two faced bitch!” Your mother realised too late as you drew the knife on her- she cried, begged you to not do it- to think about your siblings. Well what about you? Where was all that maternal love when YOU needed it?

Your anger took over- your mother the target of your hatred as you proceeded to plunge the knife into the flesh of your beautiful and selfish mother- her screams louder the last before they had completely run dry. It was only when blood got in your eye, you pulled away to rub it, looking down at your handy work…… you realised you had destroyed your only connection to society.Your own mother.

You fell back onto your butt and pulled your knees up.

You were exactly like Jeff now- You were a monster- you took away your younger sibling’s parents, they who had never done a thing to you. You had just orphaned them within an hour. And yet… you couldn’t feel any guilt. You felt empty- maybe because it hadn’t fully hit you that you had actually murdered your mother- it felt like you were in a dream. You just stay on the carpet, staring into space. You didn’t notice Jeff enter the house from behind you. He whistled out, taking a look at your handy work.

“Congratulations- you’ve gone from an ordinary crook to a full blown killer- matricide and patricide in one go? Baby- you’re a fucking natural!” He cackled, but you were in no mood for his games.

“Just hurry up and get it over with.” You spat. “Kill me now… and end this madness..”

“Why would I want to kill you though?” he asked, even though you reiterated you chopped up his dick. “Well, that! But you reignited the very reason I fell in love with you. For a minute- I thought you had lost your fire- but what you did to me…. I gotta admit- I was pissed but you my doll- you are not just my prey anymore- you are my equal! You and I…. are gonna paint the town red~! He cackled.

It wasn’t like you had any other option. You had no more family, not a friend in the world- only Jeff, the man who murdered your family in the first place. You had no place in society, not anymore. He was your only salvation. “Come on (Y/n)...” The bastard said as he took your hand. “You and me against the world.”

Jeff once told you that he was lonely, he was a cold blooded serial killer with a taste for blood and violence- someone no one in their right mind would go near, and yet here you were, willingly going back to him. “You’re lonely without me…and I’m as alone as you are….we’re alone without each other…” You said as he pulled you up where you received a hug from him.

When was the last time you ever got a hug? Why were you crying?

“You don’t have to worry about being alone ever again… because you and I are going to be together forever~” He grinned before picking you up and carrying you out of your dead mother’s home.

SFW HEADCANONS

It's safe to say that your relationship with Jeff is unhealthy- a very toxic codependency. You no longer had anything to lose and Jeff had everything to lose if he didn’t have you. When you arrived back home- Jeff tried to play his bullshit games with you by putting your cereal on the ground- as a joke. But you had picked it up and chucked it at his head- you wouldn’t tolerate this sad sack of shit disrespecting you again.

You and Jeff would continue to get into your fights- him overpowering you- threatening you. You would slap him, spat at him, remind him that you had sliced up his dick and you weren’t afraid to do it again. He hated it when you talked back to him but at the same time- he loved how you wouldn’t just take it lying down.

Jeff would leave the house to seek out his next victims and you? You were allowed to seek out your prey. No you weren’t a fucking psycho like Jeff- but you had taken to hunting again, just like you once did with your father. The previous owners even had their own shed where they would butcher whatever they found and the first time Jeff had witnessed you come back with some hares- he asked you to hunt him for a change- to which you told him to piss off and get a life.

After returning to Jeff’s home and with the newly found freedom you suddenly had with Jeff no longer watching your every move- it was finally time you had a life When you went into town- you dawned a new name, everyone knew you as the new neighbor who lived on the outskirts of town- just married your highschool sweetheart who is often absent due to his work. Coming home one day with groceries and cleaning supplies- you heard Jeff jokingly call you Mrs Woods, after hearing about what you’ve been telling everyone in town who cared to listen which you scoffed- stating that it would look less suspicious if you two were living there permanently. He then reminded you that you had no wedding ring which was already a dead give away.

One of the days- he dragged a victim back to your home, torturing her in the basement. You were pissed off at him, bringing them to where you live was fucked. He could do what he liked- you didn’t care- but to risk the authorities finding her here. He told you to shut it before holding up her arm- on her hand was a golden ring with a decent sized rock on top- she whined as he slipped it off her finger and got down on one knee for you.

“My darling dove- my beloved bitch. Will you do the honour of being my cherished wife~?”

That pissed you off-it was bad enough this fucker took away your life, now he was making a mockery of marriage- a distant dream of yours where you would live happily unlike your parents. You stomped away and didn’t leave your room for two days- only leaving for snacks and water. Jeff didn’t realise how badly he fucked up when he had enough and walked into your room- you weren’t on the bed, you were hiding under it.

When asked what your deal is- you laid it all out for him. He says he cares about you- but there was nothing caring about him at all- he was an absolute dickhead with no thought to how you feel- calling you a bitch and proposing to you in the same breath? You had seen enough of your parent’s marriage to know you never wanted a relationship like theirs. If he really fucking cared- if he really wanted you to be his partner- he better clean up his damn act!

For a while- the two of you ignored each other, but one of you realised that the silent treatment wasn’t getting you anywhere. One day, you woke up to a bouquet of roses on your bedside table with a small note reading: ‘Friends?’

Jeff started leaving you more gifts- flowers, snacks, necklaces. Anything just for you to talk to him again and you did. He gave you the engagement ring for you to wear around town- but you warned him that you would never say yes to a man you didn’t love. Although you and him treated each other better- didn’t mean he was any easier to live with.

Though he likes looking after himself (And looking at himself), he has no problem leaving whatever room he’s been in to look like a bomb went off. He’ll leave the house to do what he does best and who is left to clean up? You. The kitchen, the bathroom and the living room. You didn’t bother to touch his room because you weren’t the one who had to sleep in it. Although it didn’t help he would come into your room and sleep in your bed. You would tell him to go back to his bed but his response would be-

“But your bedroom is a lot nicer than mine….”

“THEN CLEAN IT UP YOU PIG!”

After a few weeks of this- you got sick of his filthy ways before ambushing him one morning as he slept in your bed with a cold bucket of water “I’m your partner- not your fucking maid! You have two choices- clean up after yourself and clean your room, or I’m cutting myself in the bath, bleed to death and then you can clean up my corpse when I’m dead!” 

“Fucking broads..” He muttered but took the hint- doing his part and cleaning up after himself.

At some point in your relationship, the two of you get closer. You wondered where he got his piercings done before he told you he did them himself. Make sense- no one with common sense would give someone as scary looking as Jeff a piercing. He offers to do them for you and you rebuff this at first- not exactly trusting a psycho killer to pierce you anywhere. But he badgers you on and on until you say yes.

He pierces your ears, he pierces your tongue and he pierces your belly button- unlike him, you clean your piercings so they don’t get infected. What you would give for super healing.

You still enjoy a recreational game with one another, he even stole a gaming console and some games where you both get to enjoy some video games. He liked GTA while you played sims. You also get together once in a while to watch movies. If you're watching a horror movie- Jeff might critique how someone gets murdered or say how inaccurate the amount of blood came out of the victim, some movies- he’ll take inspiration from and note of what he’ll do to his next victim. If it's a romance- he’ll critique both the male and female leads- talking about how imperfect they are compared to you two. Now comedy… if it's a normal comedy where funny things happen and jokes are cracked, you’ll both laugh- if it's a horror comedy where the killer or monster makes a joke, Jeff will laugh his ass off while you just sit there awkwardly.

Jeff loves you cooking food for him. You hadn’t had a proper meal before coming to live with Jeff, you got a cookbook and went off from the instructions which was actually a lot simpler than it looked, what made meals better were the drinks. Jeff loved a beer with his dinner which surprised you, for a guy who drinks so much- he didn’t have the body of one. You remembered your dad would always store pint glasses in the freezer so when it was time for a drink, the beer would stay cold. You started doing this and Jeff loved it so much, he would go through a whole beer before having a second one with his dinner. You weren’t one to fish for compliments but Jeff would always show his appreciation for you one way or another. Whenever you sit down for a meal, it's the only time he shuts up and doesn’t annoy you.

Even though he has learned to clean up after himself and has a tidy room, he still likes slipping into your room for a cuddle. It stills agitating, his bigger body coming to spoon your smaller figure as if you were a teddy bear. Jeff sleeping to you was still a mystery, he never blinks and always wears an eye mask to bed, very confusing to you.

“Remember when we fucked for the first time here?” He would whisper in your ear. “You wanna do it again?” You sent a fist into his balls and kicked him out of your bed.

Sooner or later, you get the balls to ask Jeff about his past, you wonder what he could have been like- assumed he might have had a terrible home life if he became this. He tells you about his early years on the military base with his aggressive and misogynistic dad whom his mom hated until he returned from abroad a broken man. He told you about Liu, his younger brother and the only friend he ever had. The only one besides you who managed to escape his murderous rampage. About the three assholes who burned him… then he told you about a hooded figure who came to him on death’s doorstep.

It didn’t know what irked you most, the fact that everything that has happened to Jeff was by his own doing or the fact that he was visited by a literal demon who turned him into a monster. When questioning Jeff further about the hooded demon- Jeff was annoyed, saying that he didn’t know much else other than the fact it called itself the Angel of Sleep. What kind of demon refers to itself as an angel? That would be a mystery for another day.

At one point, you believed you couldn’t care less about what happens to Jeff or what he does. As long as the two of you could learn to co-exist together, you could live with that. But what you didn’t expect was for the FBI to be on your tail again. The agents had tracked Jeff to your shared home , you were upstairs in your bedroom, reading a book when you heard a gunshot. You looked outside where you saw Jeff on the ground bleeding from a myriad of gunshot wounds, multiple armed agents pointing their guns at him.

“Jeffrey Woods, on behalf of the United States’ Government, you are hereby arrested on multiple accounts of homicide, arson, assault, battery, theft, kidnapping and torture!” You didn’t know what you were thinking, you could have let Jeff get taken. When they find out he can’t die- they’ll more than likely lock him away in a high security facility where he would never see the light of day again. You? Without him breathing down your neck- you were free. You could leave the country and move to Europe, rewrite your entire life.

You had no idea why you took your rifle, leaned it out the window and began firing off at the agents. You took at least three out before they began firing off at you. Hiding by the wall by the wall as the glass broke. This gave Jeff the time he needed to recover before killing the rest of the FBI agents.

“Awww…. You really do love me, don’t ya?” He cackled.

You couldn’t give him a real answer, you despised him- but without him… you were alone. You didn’t understand these feelings of loyalty you had for him, he didn’t deserve them for what he’s done to you, you hate him, you hated him so much- you!

“Come here baby.” He huffed, pulling you in for a hug, petting your head, his lips brushing against your ear. “Who’s my good girl…? That's right, it's you… you’re my good girl..”

You were absolutely fucked. How did you not realise it before? During the duration of your relationship, you had actually begun to fall for Jeff, despite how wicked and cruel he was. Was this what they call Stockholm Syndrome? Where one falls for the captor and gives up all control to them out of some sick and twisted loyalty?

“Don’t leave me Jeff…. You’re not allowed to leave me..ever.” You muttered.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” He smirked.

NSFW HEADCANONS 

As your affections for Jeff grew, so did a certain possessiveness that you didn’t know existed until you found him buried in another woman. After you returned home- you refused to have any sort of sexual encounter with him- he complained of course. You were so willing to fuck him if it meant getting back at him but not when you two were at a good place. Because you were still repulsed by him, you washed yourself fervantly after fucking him the first time, you told yourself it was a one time thing that would never happen again so long as you lived.

But after a while- Jeff got tired of you rejecting his advances. Your relationship didn’t exactly have a label and neither of you cared to put one on it. Again, you didn’t really care what Jeff did as long as you could maintain peace in your shared home. You had come home with a few birds and saw the dimmed light coming from Jeff’s bedroom. Again, you didn’t pay it any mind.

It was only when you opened the door to the house- could you hear a bitch moan, you dropped the birds and reloaded your gun. Something violent boiled within you as you slowly made your way up the stairs and over to Jeff’s door, slightly ajar.

Jeff was atop of a girl who kept her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, begging for more of what he had to give as he fucked harder and quicker. He would always tell you, you were lucky to have him, girls kill each other just to get near him. You thought that was just his narcissism talking- you didn’t think he was telling the truth. But the fact this mother fucker thought it was cool to fuck up your life, chase you for two years, keep you captive, get his ass saved by you only for him to fuck some other bitch?

You practically kicked the door down, Jeff getting off the girl who got up, holding HIS fucking white hoodie over her body, what sickened you worse was that she looked alot like you. Skin colour and body type, hair color and length, eye colour and height. “(Y/n)-, baby. This is-” You blew the cunt’s head off before Jeff got the chance to tell you her name. He looked stunned, and then worried as you drew your gun on him. “Darling- lets no do something that will-”

You fucking blew hole after hole after hole into this motherfucker’s body before he fell dead….for now. Why did you kill him? Why were you so fucking angry? Its not like you actually wanted to be with Jeff- he was a fucking psycho, he was a murderer, he was a-

‘Oh my god, would you stop fucking kidding yourself?’

Who said that….?

‘You shot him and that girl up because how dare he make you fall for him and then fuck someone else? He took your life and made it his- surely he owes us his life in return. You’re not jealous- because that would mean you want something that someone else has. Jeff belongs to you and you’ll be damned if you let him run around and screw whoever he wants.’

Yes… that was it. That was exactly it. Sure, you still loathed Jeff- but at the same time, you loved him. You don’t care how many women he’s been with- he was yours the day he murdered your family- he needs to be reminded he wasn’t the only killer in the house.

So while he was dead, you dragged his body and the body of his ‘mistress’ into the backyard, dug a three foot hole, dumped both their bodies insides and proceeded to fill it back up, tossing his clothes to the ground before stomping back inside. But that wasn’t enough for you. He’ll come back to life like nothing happened and do the same shit again, no- you couldn’t let that happen… you needed him to know if he wasn't off limits to anyone who wanted him, neither would you. Which is why for this first time in your life, you dolled yourself up. Makeup, skimpy clothes, heels and went into town, Attracting as many men as you could and asking them to come back to your home while your husband was ‘away’.

It was a lot simpler than you thought. Most of them bragging about how they wanted to fuck a ‘hot wife’. You gave them all beer and it wasn’t long before you were practically surrounded by them. Complimenting you, telling you how sexy you were, one tracing his hand up your skirt while another began leaving kisses on your neck. It felt great, but the cherry on top was seeing Jeff- regenerated, filthy from the dirt and mud- wearing the wet clothes you callously left on the grass enter the living room. You could see the five stages of grief on his face, the disbelief that you of all people would sleep around. That you would have the gall to fuck anyone but him- then came the rage.

He left for a second and for a minute, you believed he was leaving you alone with these bastards- was he really gonna let you get fucked by strangers? You only did this because you thought he would intervene before they actually did anything-

“ROAR!”

“ROAR!”

“ROAR!”

“Hey, is that a chainsaw I hear?” One of the guys feeling you up asked.

Jeff came back into the room, a chainsaw roaring in his hands, his eyes glaring daggers at you. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The next thing you know, the whole living room was painted red. The men who were originally trying to fuck you were screaming like bitches- trying to escape, to run away but Jeff was quicker. The blood types of different men splashed over you as if you had come down a long water slide, organs and intestines flying all over the place, limbs getting decapitated in one swipe, a head fell into your lap before you smacked it off in terror.

“You..” Jeff dropped his chainsaw, looking down at you with rage, his permanent grin in an impossible frown as he dropped the chainsaw. You thought he was gonna argue, shout and scream at you. But he said nothing. His silence was terrifying.

He came at you, backhanding you across the floor before tearing your clothes off. “You don’t like me fucking other cunts, fine? All you had to do was give me yours and I wouldn’t have had too.”

Jeff fucked you raw in that sea of blood, both of your bodies lathered in that metaliic red liquid. He wrapped his hands around your throat, choking the air out of your lungs and he fucked you hard with a roughness and precision you hadn’t felt the first time you and him did it. And as embarrassing as it was for you to admit- you came so hard.

He pulls your hair, he spits in your mouth, he suffocates you with his hands around your throat and you just take it all in. When he’s finished with you, you’re left crying on the floor, he picks you up, stuffs you in the shower and turns on the faucet, letting hot water drench your body.

After that night, it was both decided neither of you would ever go for other people again lest you suffer each other's wrath. He didn’t appreciate being buried alive whats her face and you didn’t like being manhandled like that in a pile of corpses. But like all toxic relationships, you kiss, make up and put it behind you. 

The type of sex you and Jeff have ranges between angry/violent sex whenever you two have an argument to loving and soft when you are having a really bad day and Jeff decides not to be an ass for once.

It shocked you how his dick remained in perfect condition after the first time you disfigured it. He was a shower, at six and a half inches, his rod was pale with a perfect baby pink tip which in your mind shouldn’t even be possible- but then again. You never really had a chance to experiment with other dicks, not that you wanted to. 

Sex was with him was a frequent thing- he would come home after killing a bunch of people and before, he would satiate his lust with others- now you were the target of his affections. He would come in, still soaked in the blood of his victims and he would demand you shed your clothes. You would remove them as quickly as you could before Jeff had his way with you. In the Kitchen, the bathroom, the living room- anywhere. He once got you in the laundry room after you had put a load in and fucked you on top of the washing machine as it ran, you both agreed to fuck on the washing machine again. (And put another load on to wash the bloodied clothes.)

He even started up his hide and seek games again- where instead of carving you up, he fucks you. Initially, you were against the idea but then he gave you a nine millimeter handgun and the keys to his car. You could go as far as you want with any weapon you want. He’d hunt you down and you would have more advantages to escape. Thus began a catastrophe of murder and death as you would go missing for weeks at a time, setting traps like you did before- shooting Jeff on sight before running off to the next town.

It brought you back to the time where you were a runaway teenager- robbing and squatting to survive, you enjoyed it. You could whatever you wanted so long Jeff didn’t catch you. But then… you would get lonely. And while you did enjoy being hunted- you also missed him.

Sometimes, he would find you while you were off guard- others, you would let him catch you. But in both circumstances, he is fucking your brains out with you clawing at his pale leather back.

Most of your sexual encounters came consensually, without transactions. But sucking his dick? If Jeff wanted you to suck his dick- he would have to do something for you in exchange. Because whenever this guy got his dick in your mouth- he would degrade you, humiliate you with the most vile curses, pull at the roots of your mouth while suffocating you with his cock- so yeah. No way you would suck his dick unless you got something for your troubles- but Jeff had no problem eating you out for free. In his own words- you quote: “Best pussy I’ve had.”

This man loves to fuck you raw- no protection, you can get it any time, anywhere. He’s cumming in you and on you. On your face, in your hair, on your tits, on your back, your thighs- anywhere. Hell, this prick will pull out, cum on your underwear and pull it back on you. He’ll even snap a picture on his phone just so he can send it to you later.

Just hope neither of you act surprised when you use a pregnancy test and the two lines show. Doesn’t matter if you’re freaking the fuck out or calm about the situation, because no matter what- Jeff wants that baby. Yeah- Jeff of all people wanting to be a dad? You think he’d be the last person on earth who wants to be a dad, but no. He would see that fetus as an extension of himself and the minute that baby pops out- it’s gonna learn how to slit its throat before it walks or talks. You? No point in walking away now- cause you could have run away a long time ago, you chose to stay… besides.

You’ll finally have a family again…. But not the way you imagined it.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 16

WC: 756 , Masterpost CW: We loop to the start and that entails The attacks start in northern Africa. It jumps from Algeria to Egypt, across the sea to Saudi Arabia to Turkey and into Europe. By the time it hits Metropolis, resources are already stretched thin. Danny is calling in every contact, every possible help, while he follows the worst of it himself, constantly organizing the next area of triage.

As he’s attempting to wrap the tourniquet around Barry’s leg, blood slicked hands failing him, it hits Danny like one of Superman’s punches.

They are going to lose.

Barry reaches out and grips a weak hand around Danny’s wrist. “Kid?”

It’s still a stupid nickname, but through all these years Barry still used it. Through the years of dinners and disasters and Danny being welcomed into Barry’s family at Wally’s side.

And now all these wonderful, heroic, brave people that Danny had come to be friends with are going to die. The monologue happening in the middle of the street made that much clear. No hero would be spared; any chance of a future uprising would be snuffed out this very day.

Because they are going to lose.

Danny smiles softly at Barry and pries his hand away.

“Kid, whatever you’re thinking—” Barry could have no idea what Danny is thinking. No one can.

No one can, because no one knows what Danny can do.

He leaves his bag by Barry. Most of the supplies have been used up, but maybe there is still something in it that will help people.

He just wants to help people.

The monologue cuts off as Danny approaches, feet sliding on the loose concrete around the edge of the crater that the imposing figure stands in. He manages not to fall, though, and strides past Superman with his head held high. He will not cower in front of death. He faced death once before and even though this time means becoming nothing, he will not cower as he faces it again.

He has to look up to meet the being’s eyes. There’s only cruelty there. The mouth twists in a cold smirk. “Has it come to this? That they send their healer to face me?”

“No.” Danny could hear Barry shouting his name. “They didn’t send me, I came by myself.”

The laugh raises the hair on the back of Danny’s neck, but he doesn't move away.

“Pathetic! You presume yourself to be the last line of defense? You, a mere medic? You are no hero and yet you dare to stand before me? Do you not think that I could break you with a single fist?”

Danny smiles softly, and raises his hand. The man doesn’t even move, so utterly sure that Danny poses him no threat. Danny rests his hand on the man’s chest. He has to reach up to do so.

The smirk turns into a sneer. “Or do you intend to appeal to some ideal of compassion? To try and change my heart? To ask me to spare your heroes?”

Superman is screaming at him now as he struggles to stand. Danny hears him fall again.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the man who would try to rule them all with nothing but death in his wake.

“No,” Danny says, tilting his head just slightly. His eyes scan over the hardened face again. “No, I don’t think I can do that. You’ve made a mockery of death for so long that your heart is hardened. It’s a good thing I don’t need it soft.”

Intangibility is as comfortingly familiar as it is horrifying to feel again. Danny shudders as it washes over him. His hand sinks, sickeningly, through armor and skin and bone to wrap around that hardened, beating heart.

It thuds once in his grip.

Danny yanks his hand back.

Danny pulls that heart from its chest.

The man gasps— the sound a pale imitation of a breath— and then he falls.

Like he was nothing.

Less than nothing.

A man that will only be remembered with hatred.

The massive heart slips from Danny’s limp fingers. It hits the ground with a wet squelch.

Danny wavers, eyes turning up to the sky where hundreds of clones are falling like horrifying intimidations of shooting stars. A soft smile spreads over his face.

He had done it.

Will people remember him?

It isn’t why he did it.

He just wants to help people.

Wanted to.

Was someone calling his name?

There had only been one chance. It was all he needed.

They would be safe now.

Everyone would be safe.

Humanity, Barry, Iris, the Titans…

Wally…

“Danny!”

---

AN: And here we are, back in present tense (thank you @mokulule for correcting all my slips back to past tense my migrained brain didn't catch.

I would say Danny used his one moment well, wouldn't you?

But this isn't quite the end. Now that we're back in the present... I think it's about time we saw somethings from Wally's POV, don't you?

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!

[maxdibert]

I mean, the trio can't be faulted much for despising Snape (Hermione also didn’t, she probably just judged him), they were children, and he did kind of target Harry. They were just being his best friends and standing up for him, plus I doubt Severus cared for the opinions of children. (Except for Harry's maybe?) But Sirius and Remus are the ones I will never understand. Snape is a very strong and brave man for risking his life for them despite the burden of hatred and being constantly judged, knowing he had no ally or friend, especially after Dumbledore died. And even Dumbledore used him. I would not be able to handle that. He must have felt so lonely and depressed.

I think his main mission was to protect Harry and defeat Voldemort, but he helped others in the process too.

Well, basically Sirius was a loyal dog and never stopped being one, and his hatred toward Snape was completely irrational. James hated Snape because he was friends with Lily, and as a heteronormative toxic guy, he couldn’t conceive that the girl he liked could have male friends, and even less so a low-class Slytherin, obviously. But Sirius’ grudge was always irrational. Maybe out of loyalty to James, maybe simply because Sirius was a Black and that elitist arrogance had to come out somewhere, and being sadistic to a Slytherin who hung out with his brother’s friends probably felt justifiable to him. Maybe it was a mix of all of it, but it was resentment without a real reason, just for the sheer pleasure of being abusive.

And Sirius was also a proud man, someone who in his youth had it all: extreme good looks, money, popularity, a group of friends where he felt like the king of his own little ecosystem at school. On top of that, Sirius was very self-satisfied with his role as the rebellious one who opposed his family’s values, which made him feel morally superior, a heroic figure.

And suddenly, he gets out of prison and that kid he bullied, abused, even tried to kill — the one he always saw as a loser and dehumanized to the point of stripping him of any humanity — turns out not only to be a member of the Order but basically its most important one: Dumbledore’s right hand, the one who knows everything before anyone else, and takes on all the dangerous, secret missions. Meanwhile, Sirius is a broken man stuck in his parents’ house, good for nothing except offering up his property as a headquarters, literally unable to contribute to anything. And that must’ve eaten him alive, wrecked his ego and his masculinity to the core. And of course, he was never going to admit that Severus was more than efficient and talented, because doing so would mean admitting he’d been wrong all his life, that he’d misjudged and targeted the wrong person, and his pride was never going to let him do that. Gryffindor pride, they call it.

Remus comes from a different place. He’s a guy who loves playing the victim. I mean, he is a victim, and he’s suffered a lot because of his condition, sure. But in this life, you can either be resilient and rise above the crap (which, ironically, is something Severus actually does) or turn yourself into a martyr and go around pitying yourself, which is exactly what Remus Lupin does his whole adult life. And I don’t think he was too emotionally prepared to face the fact that maybe he wasn’t the biggest victim in his own story, because he’d been a participant in the abuse and bullying of someone else. Admitting that would mean seeing himself as a perpetrator, and well, a bit too much for his warped self-image.

In the end, it all comes down to not wanting to own up to their own mess or be held accountable. That’s the biggest difference between Severus and them: Severus screwed up, realized it, owned it, and dedicated his life to seeking forgiveness. The Marauders, on the other hand, kept selling the narrative that they were the real heroes. It takes a hell of a lot of guts to admit your mistakes and make amends. I guess they were either born gutless or simply weren’t as brave as the Sorting Hat claimed they were.

[unhinged-domestic-raccoon]

Miraculous Rewatch Where I Overanalyze Everything: Stormy Weather

Hoo boy, this one's a doozy! I almost hit the image limit! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe this was the first episode produced, so some of the things I'm gonna talk about are gonna be early installment weirdness.

To start off, with: Alya is so good with kids and it's precious and amazing and adorable! This is one of my little fanfic note things, since I'm planning on doing a KittyBella AU, where Alya and her relationship with her family is going to be a major plot point. She is just so able to understand Manon and so caring with her, but still respects her (not just letting her win the clapping game for example). I wish this came up more in fanfic. If you have Rena Rouge on the team, I feel like she should be the best member at dealing with kids and the first to think of them and comfort them during a crisis situation. Like, to the degree that it's shocking to their teammates.

Continued under the cut:

Even though Alya is great with kids, Manon is so very attached to Marinette and I think that's so sweet, but I also wonder why that is. I mean, the obvious reason is that kids are clingy and don't like strangers and Marinette is her regular babysitter, but I do also think Manon likes how indulgent Marinette is with her. The whole "I can't say no to the babydoll eyes" thing is probably a big deal for Manon, who doesn't get a whole lot of attention from her very busy single mother. Just food for thought.

Alright everybody, place your bets now! Does Gabriel own Kidz+ and did he hire Alec specifically for this purpose? Is he actively encouraging Alec to lean into the cruel TV personality? Or is he just taking advantage of a rude person? Either way, I think that if you want to establish a proper rogues gallery for Miraculous that has more recurring baddies, Alec and Bob Roth are both great places to start. They'd absolutely willingly work with a supervillain, and I can totally see them getting akumatized multiple times.

Holy horror movie vibes Batman! This looks like something straight out of Arachnophobia! The score doesn't help at all, it's got the classic *reet reet reet* slasher violins! And the way that her umbrella doesn't turn black right away like it does in later episodes and instead slowly seeps with it! The flickering lights in the elevator that have NO explanation for happening without Gabe's influence somehow? The experience of getting akumatized was WAY scarier in this first episode, and I honestly wish they kept that vibe. It makes Hawkmoth seem a lot more threatening and a lot less silly.

This whole first season actually consists of Mothman (no I will not stop on the derogatory nicknames for Gabe) being way more outright villainous. Especially in this episode, he has extremely creepy undertones from his obsession with actual children. I'm positive this is because we didn't know he was Adrien's dad yet, so he didn't have to come off as sympathetic ever. He could just be evil. I do a love a good sympathetic and redeemable Gabe who's only doing this out of extreme grief (that's NOT what we got in the season 5 finale btw, that was just nonsense), but MAN if season 1 doesn't make me yearn for an uncomplicated Disney Renaissance Villain version of him.

Hey, why does Stormy Weather SERVE so hard?! She is doing a full on catwalk strut in this scene! This is why Aurore needs to be a more prominent background/recurring character. I know she's akumatized, but that is just SO MUCH personality! Let her be an unhinged theatre kid in more scenes please!

I do love that even when Marinette is being brave and heroic as a civilian, she does NOT have the enhanced physical capability of the Miraculous. She's not being at all clumsy in this scene, she's showing her inner Ladybug! But she also can't just jump the bench, she has to climb over it by straddling it like the rest of us regular schmucks.

Time for another Plagg highlight! I actually forgot about this running gag/character trait in season 1. Plagg is extremely lazy and never actually wants to transform. He's always either hiding or complaining when Adrien needs him. It's something that kind of disappeared with seasonal decay as the series got more complicated, which is a real shame. Not only is it funny every time, but it's also kind of important if you're going to let Plagg fulfill his TRUE role of being Adrien's mentor. Adrien already knows how to work hard and sacrifice for those he loves. He does it every day. Plagg encouraging him to be selifsh and lazy is HEALTHY for him.

Can we talk about the power level in this yo-yo? Both times, it didn't even have that much force---it just kinda accidentally fell and bopped the heroes on the head. But it's still a magical weapon, so obviously it hurts extremely bad. I'm gonna start keeping track of if civilians ever get hit with this, because I'm almost positive they do, and that's GOT to be a bigger deal than the show makes of it.

Also, we need to talk about how, even with the physical enhancements, Marinette isn't always the best at controlling her yo-yo. Before I started this rewatch, one of the things that frustrated me was that Marinette, a walking disaster in her regular life, suddenly becomes extremely physically competent as Ladybug. But I'm starting to realize that's not true. She actually struggles a lot more than Adrien does. Even in the sound design, Marinette tends to have more effort grunts when they're doing acrobatics than Adrien does. We'll get to another example in a moment!

Another stealthy hello from our favorite cat boy! He fully just climbed that fence without making a single sound! LET HIM BE SNEAKY AND CREEPY! I am BEGGING ya'll!

I'm gonna highlight these moments here to say that, for all Marinette gets annoyed with Chat's flirting (image 3), she flirts back plenty too. I didn't quite capture it in that second screenshot, but she *winks* at him when she says she'd rather he stick to the catsuit (instead of a swimsuit). During the fandom's Salt Fic Era, one of the things the salters targeted was that Chat is supposedly constantly pressuring Ladybug into a relationship even though she continually rejects him. But the joking flirting and teasing was honestly just a part of their dynamic for a long time. It just occasionally gets awkward because Chat is genuine about it while LB isn't (also LB tends to ease off when they're in the middle of serious moments while Chat continues to be goofy to lighten the mood, which irritates her and is something they should both probably work on).

I've seen a lot of discussion about whether this whole weather girl competition was rigged or not. The evidence used tends to be that Mirielle winning by half a million votes is actually bonkers and highly unlikely, and that there only seems to be merch for her and none for Aurore. While it's a fine theory, I'm not sure that second point holds water. All the Mirielle balloons and banners we see are being sold after the competition, and there are figures of Aurore around too, so it's plenty likely they just kept Aurore's merch boxed up. Also, both their faces are on this bus that she throws at the heroes:

In general, we gotta talk about how Aurore is an akuma who's fighting skills and murderous rage go really hard for someone who's supposedly just an average teen. Like, I think this is worse than the general upgrade in bloodthirstiness that comes from akumatization. It makes me wonder about what kind of issues she has in her personal life. Because even if she is just generally kind of angry and violent and there's no other reason, that's gotta make her a pain to be around.

Welcome to my personal hell where I attempt to figure out the timeline of these episodes! Stormy says that she's giving the summer forecast and canceling summer vacation in this episode, which implies to me that it's towards the end of the school year. But if we're to believe that all the episodes take place within a single year (which I've heard is canon but that I have no source for), then that can't be right because other important stuff happens after this. And it can't be during the summer vacation before the school year because it has to take place after Origins. I'm gonna go ahead and do as most of the fandom does and call BS on the "this all happens in one school year" thing. French school starts in September and ends in June or July, so I'm gonna say this episode happens sometime in May, which means it chronologically takes place after both the Bubbler and Mr. Pigeon. I'm also going to guess that Mr. Pigeon takes place after the Bubbler.

By the way, shoutout to these poor firemen who keep valiantly attempting to cut Alya and Manon free from their ice cube! I like when the civilians aren't just useless targets to get hit by the akuma and are actually attempting to help and keep themselves and everyone around them safe.

EEEEEWWW why is his voice clip for using cataclysm different in this episode? I mean, it's probably the same in French, but my guess is that they redubbed the English clip after this episode, because it sounds like he was going to say another word here and then got cut off (also he just sounds better in French anyway).

Chat Noir is so cool you guys. This is what I meant when I said that Marinette tends to struggle with the physical side of heroism in a way that Adrien doesn't, because he is more physically inclined than she is. Chat is capable of effortlessly dodging around all of Stormy's rapid-fire shots and doing complex acrobatics to cataclysm the billboard. It's just extremely impressive. This rewatch is making me remember how much I love most of the fight scenes! They're just so cool!

Here we see an extremely rare instance of Tikki encouraging Marinette to shirk her responsibilities in exchange for fun! She says Mari has totally earned the treat after saving the whole city, which I think is at odds with later seasons Tikki who tends to big on personal suffering for the greater good. Gonna have to see if this is a one-off, a case of seasonal change in character, or if I'm misremembering the later seasons.

That photographer is absolutely correct in adding Manon to the scene. I would be absolutely cooing over a magazine cover that had a teen model posing with an adorable little girl. I would not give a darn if it was a teenage model with a teenage girl. Sorry Marinette, the professional knows his stuff.

[uniiiquehecrt]

Imagine having a blast subverting a perfectly fine, wonderful, positive and engaging male role model for kids of all gender and ages— who was sensitive but strong, kind but rough around the edges, temperamental yet somehow still patient, impulsive but responsible— a true king amongst his peers quite literally and figuratively...

....but I guess because Thor is a reserved, private, and stately individual who chooses not to actively talk about the emotions so plainly written across his face, he’s too “macho” for taika's daffodil lookin’ ass

That’s not even a diss I made up I can directly quote him from the same interview.

ALT TEXT: What does it mean to bring that to superheroes, which are created to be these sort of bastions of masculinity? I really don’t like macho things. There’s something kind of gross about that. Even though I think I’m a pretty good example of a real man — I’m strong and tough, and I can fight and drink — but I’m also very sensitive, like a daffodil. So, I like looking at the feminine side of men, and how it’s not the weak side. That’s a stupid way of thinking about it. It’s the side that’s the more caring side. So, I love seeing this version of Thor who cares about everybody and wants to help everyone, and he acts cool all the time, but beneath it all he’s deeply insecure, because that’s most men that I know. That’s the way that we make this film interesting: What is the weirdest version of this tough space Viking that we can make?

REALLY goes to show how little he really knew about, or paid attention to Thor, because I can think of a great many scenes in which Thor expressed a deep and profound care and love for everyone around him from the start of Thor (2011), who expressed kindness and wanted to help everyone equally as early as that, and I'd dare wager acted "cool" and "mighty" by showboating all of the time specifically to cover up the fact that he was deeply anxious and insecure the ENTIRE time until Jane came into his life and showed him, hey, maybe being yourself — the Thor who is kind, caring, selfless, humble, and noble to a fault — is IN ITSELF ... what makes you worthy. And she was RIGHT. Cue every single one of his next appearances henceforth.

IT GETS WORSE.

Did you have to tell the Russo Brothers, who will be inheriting your Thor? Oh, I know. I’ve talked to them. We’d show them footage of him because they’d heard we’ve got a really different Thor. I love those guys, but I’m not gonna stress myself out trying to save Thor for the Avengers movies. My plan was just to strip him down and mess him up as much as possible, and then just sort of deliver him to their doorstep: “Here’s this messy version of the character that you thought you were gonna have.”

We’re talking a lot about this tone and the comedy, how does it then reconnect to what the plot of the movie is about? I have no idea. Honestly, I gave it a little bit of thought, but sometimes, often I was like, You know what? I’m gonna let Marvel deal with that. That’s their department. I know how to tell a story, but I’m having so much fun subverting all of this, and like telling weird jokes and making this the weirdest Marvel movie ever. If you’ve seen my movies, you don’t hire me for any reason other than what I’ve done. So Marvel’s job really is to look after their characters, look after their source material, and make sure I don’t completely break it, or it doesn’t negatively affect the rest of the movies or how they all interweave. I don’t understand that, and I’ve never watched all those movies with the eye of like, Oh, how does this link up? Oh, what year was this when, like, Fury encountered this thing? 

(SRC.) / GOOD ONE: TAIKA WAITITI'S THOR: RAGNAROK

[mykoreanlove]

Can you write the reaction of skz to reader being sexually harassed (only if you are comfortable)?

BTW, I love your stories babies 😘

Hi sunshine, thank you for your request. I don't know the background and I don't need to but I'm hoping you are safe and feeling loved. <3 Also, thank you so much!!

I gave it a try, hope you like it :)

Chan.

Chan would do his best to hide his overwhelm but it would get to him eventually. He’s an empathetic man – making sure you’re taken care of (physically and mentally) are his priorities, so he would be there for you. He’d listen to you and wipe away your tears, never pressuring you to tell him more than you’re ready for. He would love you even more and admire your strength but at night when you’re lightly snoring on his chest? He’d be lying wide awake trying to understand how something like this could happen. Pondering on existential questions like why would a man do that? Why did this happen to you? How badly are you scarred from that experience and is there anything he could do to help you heal? He’d be pondering on those questions for a while, silently, trying to figure out a way to shield you from all the scum that is waiting on the outside.

Changbin.

Changbin would be cool about it – listening and consoling you, reassuring you that you are the love of his life, and nothing would ever change that. But internally he’d be cooking. He’d be filled with anger at everyone and everything, hating the world tremendously for hurting you. He’d move into the gym, working out even more to grow stronger for you. He’d accompany you to every appointment, holding your hand and providing safety for you. He’d be checking up on you constantly, getting possessive and controlling in concerning ways. He’d turn into your Siamese twin so you would never have to be in that situation again, not under his watch.

Minho.

Minho would have a lot of trouble being there for you at first because his emotions would get the best of him. He can be very vindicative, evil even and he wouldn’t hesitate to demolish the motherfucker that did this to you. Minho would even go as far as beating him to mush, you would be the one stopping him from committing murder. To him, it’s more of a thing of revenge and anguish. Minho would drop his emotional turmoil instantly when he’d see the terrified look in your glassy eyes. He’d curse himself for making you fearful, adding to the already existing anxiety you felt all the time. He’d hold you close to his heart, shielding you from everything. But ever since you told him he would analyze everyone, especially men, shooting daggers at them if they’re coming too close to you.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, in fact he would drop the topic altogether. Did he drop it from his mind though? Absolutely not. Weeks after you told him about the assault, you found various canvas filled with the darkest colors, depicting the most disturbing sceneries and patterns. Hyunjin would have nightmares ever since you told him, but he wouldn’t know how to express his feelings to you. Instead of sleeping, he’d start painting – giving the nightmares a stage, hoping to get rid of them that way. After a while, he’d start drawing lighter colors and more hopeful styles, portraying the heroic epos you had underwent. He’d be embarrassed when you’d find them; what kind of boyfriend communicates via paintings instead of words? Yet for you, that was more than enough.

Jisung.

Jisung would cry, he would literally bawl his eyes out. He would not mean to, but he couldn’t handle the torture you had to go through and are still suffering from today. He wished he was the brave boyfriend that you could rely on, instead you were the one consoling him. He’d reminded you of you shortly after it had happened – filled with anger and ambush. Why was life so unfair? Jisung would flee under the covers with you, holding your hand while calming himself down by breathing. He’d trace your knuckles with your fingers and listen to the sounds of the rain against your windows.

Felix.

Felix would give you the tightest hug known to mankind. Those kinds of hugs that make you gasp for air, so tight that you will see stars after a while. You’d feel his tears on the top of your head, even though he’d try to hide them. Felix would be eternally grateful for you sharing this with him, displaying your vulnerabilities is like a love language to him. He’d kiss you sweetly and whisper the most loving compliments into your ear. He’d be complimenting you on your strength and the way you handled things so gracefully, especially after enduring those horrors. He’d be talking to you about it like a friend would – compassionate and kind. He wouldn’t want you to hide those things or worse, feel small because of them. If any, you were even greater to him.

Seungmin.

Seungmin would laugh in your face, thinking that you’d be bullshitting him. You know how sometimes both of you take it too far? Yeah, not this time. His face would turn white from shock, eyes as big as the moon as realization hit him that you were indeed sexually assaulted. He’d be tongue-tied for the next minutes, not knowing how to react the right way. You’d see his brain ratter, thinking of ways to be there for you. Finally, he’d blurt out the truth: “I don’t know how to react to this, y/n.” You’d only ask him one question, the only one that mattered to you. “Do you think less of me? Do you think I’m disgusting?” Seungmin would body slam you on the bed, taking your head in between his hands and pledging his undying love for you. “Nothing would make me love you less, baby. Nothing.”

I.N

I.N would look at you for a while before saying anything. You couldn’t analyze the weird look in his eyes as you told him about your past though. Was it disgust? Confusion? Anger? Turns out I.N would know exactly how you felt, because he had gone through the same thing. He’d be big spooning you for hours, his chin on your shoulder as he’d listen to you recalling your experience. You’d switch positions when it would be his turn, knowing that it’d be easier admitting the shame without facing another. After both of you would be done, you’d be facing each other while holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. “I know this sounds strange, but I somehow feel closer to you now, y/n.” Admitting your past to I.N would turn into a very peculiar bonding experience, one that would strengthen your relationship even more.

[talesfromtheenchantedforest]

sry but I really appreciate your insight into the relationship between galehaut and lancelot. would you mind sharing more about them

I think Lancelot and Galehaut’s relationship is perpetually fascinating - always happy to talk about it! This got so long, enjoy!

I think it’s impossible to talk about Lancelot as a character without talking about courtly love. Unlike practically any Arthurian character, we know exactly how and when he entered the Arthurian mythos: in the late 12th century, Countess Marie of Troyes commissioned Chrétien de Troyes to write a new romance: Lancelot, Knight of the Cart.

[Chrétien] tells us plainly that the countess furnished him with both the subject matter (matière) and the manner of treatment (sens) and that he is simply trying to carry out her desire and intention. His statement is phrased as a compliment, but it is not difficult to see beneath the surface a note of apology for writing on a theme theme with which he was not wholly in sympathy. The poem is an elaborate illustration of the doctrine of courtly love as it was introduced into northern France by Eleanor and Marie. Here for the first time in Chrétien’s works we find the glorification of the love of one man for another man’s wife, a situation which Fenis, in Cligès, had declared to be intolerable. Chrétien clearly found the theme distasteful and left the poem unfinished; the conclusion is by Godefroy de Laigny. — John Jay Parry, in the introduction to his translation of The Art of Courtly Love

Lancelot enters the Arthurian literary tradition as, first and foremost, an exemplar of the ideal of courtly love. Courtly love, as it was popularized in northern France and England by Eleanor of Aquitaine and her daughter Countess Marie, is pure (purer, indeed, than a married relationship, which is built on obligation, not Love), and brings out the best qualities of the knight who is in love, driving him to the heights of chivalry and heroic deeds. The knight, furthermore, enthusiastically sacrifices his safety, his, body, and his honor, for his lady, in an extreme display of self-abnegation. Knight of the Cart is Marie of Troyes’ treatise on courtly love, using Lancelot to embody these principles. Lancelot is the best knight because his love for Guenevere drives him to the height of great deeds. And Lancelot can only rescue Guenevere because he is willing to sacrifice his very honor for her by riding in a cart for condemned criminals (an event which may sound trivial, but the stakes were high: “whoever was convicted of any crime was placed upon a cart and dragged through the streets, and he lost henceforth all his legal rights, and was never afterward heard, honored, or welcomed in any court” [Lancelot, Knight of the Cart, trans. W. W. Comfort]).

Lancelot does not leave these characteristics behind when he enters the Lancelot-Grail cycle (early 12th century). And in fact, the Lady of the Lake who raises him and gives him training in arms and explicit tutelage in what it means to be a knight, encourages him to find a lover: “you should give your heart to a love that will turn you not into an idle knight but a finer one, for a heart that becomes idle through love loses its daring and therefore cannot attain high things. But he who always strives to better himself and dares to be challenged can attain all high things.” [Lancelot Part I, Ch 28] And of course, he is besotted by the queen Guenevere immediately, so everything appears to be bang on track.

Except! In the middle of Lancelot exerting himself to be worthy of Guenevere, Galehaut appears, seeking to add Arthur’s kingdom to his expansive repertoire, and is succeeding handily. The failure of his conquest comes not from military defeat, but from voluntary self-abnegation at least as profound as riding in a cart for condemned criminals. As immediately and thoughtlessly as Lancelot devotes himself to Guenevere, so profoundly does Galehaut fall for the brave young knight fighting against his own army. He is delighted by the opportunity to sacrifice his own interests for Lancelot’s, exemplified below in Lancelot asking for a favor in exchange for staying on as Galehaut’s companion (Lancelot Part II, Chapter 52):

Lancelot: “My lord, I ask you that as soon as you overcome King Arthur, and his forces are totally unable to recover, as soon as I summon you, you are to ask him for mercy and put yourself entirely in his power” When Galehaut heard this, he was aghast and became very pensive. And the two kings said to him, “My lord, what are you thinking about? There is nothing to be gained from reflection now: you have gone so far that there is no turning back.” “What?” he exclaimed. “Do you suppose I have any regrets? If all the world were mine, I wouldn’t hesitate to give it to him. I was thinking of the splendid thing he said, for never did any man say anything finer. My lord,” he said, “may God never bring me shame, but I beg you not to deprive me of your company, since I would do more to have you with me than any other.”

Galehaut goes on to cheerfully watch his castles and ambition be symbolically destroyed and humble himself to serve in Arthur’s court as a knight (To Arthur: “I prefer to be poor and happy instead of rich and miserable. Retain me with him [Lancelot], if ever I did anything that pleased you; you must do this for me and for him, for I must tell you that all the love I bear you comes to you because of him.” — Lancelot Part II, Chapter 71). Lancelot’s feelings for Galehaut (as, I will add, Guenevere’s feelings for Lancelot) are less explosive — but they are certainly reciprocal. He spends three years with Galehaut in Sorelois, which is longer than he spends anywhere in the entire Prose Lancelot. He weeps, sure that he is not worthy of Galehaut’s love. When he is wounded and scared after his captivity with Morgan le Fay, it is Galehaut he runs to (if, tragically, too late to avert Galehaut’s death of sorrow). When his own world has fallen apart and he is on the brink of death, all he wants is to be buried with Galehaut. Their relationship is courtly, in that Lancelot is now the object of Galehaut’s self-sacrificing devotion. There is the argument to be made (which Galehaut’s advisers certainly make) that the relationship is in fact not an ideal courtly relationship because it is causing Galehaut material harm, rather than making him a better knight — a position that Galehaut clearly disagrees with. He has all the material gain he needs in his beloved: “Galehaut saw wisdom and gain where others saw loss and folly, and no one would have dared make bold to love good knights so much as he” (Lancelot Part III, Chapter 72).

Galehaut’s relationship with Lancelot is set clearly in parallel with Lancelot’s relationship with Guenevere. The text is detailed and complicated in what all of these relationships entail, so I will just try to draw out a few of the things I think illustrate the ways Galehaut and Guenevere’s parallel roles underscore how non-normative Galehaut’s love for Lancelot is. The most explicit tension between Galehaut and Guenevere is given to us symbolically, as a prophecy (In Lancelot Part III, Chapter 75):

Merlin tells us that from the Islands of Jedares, from the home of the Fairy Lady, a wondrous dragon will break forth and go flying left and right over all countries, and wherever he appears everyone will tremble before him. The dragon will fly on to the Adventerous Kingdom, and there he will have grown large and massive and have thirty heads of gold, each finer and more splendid than his original head [this is Galehaut]. Merlin said that there he would be so large that the whole land would darken under the shadow of his body and his wings. He would reach the Adventurous Kingdom after having conquered almost everything, but the wondrous leopard [Lancelot] would stop him and push him back and put him at the mercy of those he had just been so close to defeating. Afterwards, the two would love each other to the point of considering themselves a single thing, each unable to live without the other; but the golden-headed serpent [Guenevere] would come draw the leopard away and take him from his companion and besot his mind. Merlin says this is how the great dragon will die.

This tension simmers under the surface of the first meeting of Galehaut and Guenevere and Lancelot and the Lady Malehaut. Ostensibly Galehaut is bringing Lancelot to meet Guenevere and formalize their extramarital affair; it also formalizes and takes seriously the relationship between Galehaut and Lancelot:

“My lady,” said Galehaut, “he could do you no wrong, but I’ve merely done what you ordered me to do. Now you must hear a request from me, for I told you yesterday that you could soon do more for me than I for you.” “Speak confidently,’ [the queen] said, “for there’s nothing you could request that I wouldn’t do.” “Then you have accepted, my lady,” he said, “to grant me his companionship.” “Indeed,” she replied, ”if you didn’t have that, then you would have profited little by the great sacrifice you made for him” Then she took the knight by the right hand and said, “Galehaut, I give you this knight forever more, except for what I have previously had of him. And you,” she said to the knight, “give your solemn word on this.”

One thing I want to emphasize is how expansive these relationships are, for as long as they coexist. Lancelot does not have to chose between Guenevere and Galehaut, prophecies notwithstanding, because Galehaut will always accommodate them. Guenevere, as someone Lancelot loves, is someone Galehaut cares for. When Guenevere is under attack during the False Guenevere episode, Galehaut is the one she turns to, and Galehaut in turn musters all his resources to make sure she is safe and taken care of. They both love the same man, and they both know it, and nevertheless chose to care for each other as well.

Lancelot is a paragon of courtly love — as the knight in his relationship with Guenevere, and, I would argue, taking the role of the lady, or object of love, in his relationship with Galehaut. What courtly love offers him is the opportunity to fulfill his highest calling — being the greatest knight that ever was. And it is this highest calling, ultimately, that takes him away from Galehaut in the end, not Galehaut losing a straightforward rivalry with Guenevere. Galehaut invites Guenevere to Sorelois, where the three of them live together for the two years during the False Guenevere episode, and when Arthur and Guenevere reconcile, Galehaut follows Lancelot to Arthur’s court rather than allow them to be separated. What takes Lancelot away, rather, is his commitment to the chivalric ideal of adventuring and warfare, which is not something Galehaut can protect him from. And, indeed, this is the thing that first attracted Galehaut to him. He knows practically from the start that he will die for his love, and he decides that the love is more than worth the price.

I’ll just end by drawing on Eli’s (of @queerasfact) beautiful summation of his discussion of Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship in the Iliad: “The Iliad is fundamentally at its core a story of intense love between two men and denying queer readings of this as viable fundamentally guts the experience of reading the text and interacting with mythology at all.” (Queer as Fact, Achilles and Patroclus). The relationship between Lancelot and Galehaut drives the action in parts II and III of the Lancelot-Grail, inviting us into a way of loving that both fits within an established literary convention, and opens a window onto a field of possibilities that are even richer. We leave the Lancelot-Grail cycle with two men sharing a tomb, inscribed:

Here lies the body of Galehaut, the Lord of the Distant Isles, and with him rests Lancelot of the Lake, who, with the exception of his son Galahad, was the best knight who ever entered the kingdom of Logres.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

I just have to say this: Aegon the Usurper flying off like an idiot in battle while Rhaenyra does not, doesn’t make this guy a hero, nor does it make Rhaenyra a coward.

We need to set the record straight: Women don’t have to be warriors in order to be worth something.

This is just another proof of classic misogynistic thinking of TG stans. But they also prove to be highly subjective since they give “poor sweet innocent” Helaena a pass for doing absolutely nothing and being less than relevant even as a dragonrider. And as the ringleader of the Greens, I don’t think Alicent sat on a horse and rode off to battle in order to further her own ambitions. She started the whole mess and then hid behind her sons. Even after Rhaenyra took King’s Landing, the only thing Alicent could say was something like “Just wait till my son Aemond returns bla bla bla.”

Rhaenyra is a girl’s girl. Those who read the book understand that. The canon version of her never wanted to be a son (unlike the stupidity induced in that show). She was very feminine: always choosing to wear the best dresses with the finest silks, many pieces of jewelry, and she is highly interested in men. She was always proud to be a woman. She embraced it. She never tried to act like the opposing gender as a way to make others look at her as worthy of the throne.

I repeat: Rhaenyra was a girl’s girl and she was proud of it.

She was not a warrior. She never trained with a sword in her life, unlike her idiotic half-brothers. She was not even the type (unlike Princess Rhaenys). Rhaenyra spent her time doing girly things and riding Syrax.

Shortly before the war started, Rhaenyra suffered a miscarriage which greatly affected her health. She needed months to recover. This is the reason why she didn’t ride Syrax in battle, as confirmed in the book. It was not because she didn’t want to or because she refused to fight her battles herself (as I hear many TG stans claim in spite).

And even if flying hadn’t been detrimental to her health, why would she fly into battle? You think that is a smart idea? It’s brave, but it’s also stupid, and the usurper himself proved that.

Aegon the Usurper rode his dragon into battle to show that he’s a man’s man, and what did that get him? Injuries which prevented him from being able to move well enough in order to sit on the throne he stole. The only battle he actually won was against a baby dragon, Moondancer. A baby dragon who inflicted deadly wounds on Sunfyre and caused his death.

So tell me again how ‘intelligent’ the usurper was to fly off into battle himself and what exactly he has accomplished with that. What exactly is so “heroic” about that? The fact that he shows off his masculinity on a big bad dragon?

And of course do forgive a poor woman for not flying her dragon into battle like a crazy person after a miscarriage and several psychological blows in one go like her father’s death, her daughter’s death, her son’s death and the usurpation through which a faction of snakes stole the throne that belonged to her.

Do forgive her for lacking any combat experience because you know…she was raised a girl and has a girlish personality!

And do forgive her for not being an idiot and getting herself disabled, like her half-brother did.

[evilminji]

I'ma be bold! Marvel Time!

Wakanda has Vibranium. An impossible mineral that does not see like it could form naturally, right? Or there would be far more in the wider universe then just the few bits we see.

You know what ELSE is impossibly rare, minerals wise?

Ectoranium. The disasteroid. And! From Wakandan oral history? The two seem to have appeared in the EXACT SAME WAY. Out of no where. Through, very possibly, the EXACT SAME rarely opening portal. If? On the other side? There was an asteroid belt of some kind?

It would only take things aligning just right, for one to slip through.

We KNOW materials from the Zone effect the living world in strange ways. Vibranium could very well just be the dead reflection of a mineral from a different, more durable, universe. The Zone is Infinite, so it would mix pretty much EVERYTHING together into a chaotic mess.

So there could be a considerable amount of Vibranium asteroids just hanging around.

But! And more importantly! Getting hit by, then LIVING OVER, a massive fuck off Zone Rock? Would expose Wakandans to generations of Ectoplasm. ESPECIALLY with how Vibranium, by nature, holds a "charge" if you will. It would be a heat lamp of Limnality. Making everyone near it?

Better.

Not superhuman. Not fully Limnal. Because Vibranium HOLDS a charge. That Ectoplasmic energy would be stuck INSIDE the metal. Unable to truely effect anyone who isn't directly touching it. Even then, BARELY seeping into them. But? It WOULD leech, slowly, into everything around it.

The air, the water, the soil.

The PLANTS. That precious, precious, SACRED Herb.

Over time? It would loosen the ties that bind. Those pesky human limitations. Sure, it would say, grow smarter. Stronger. Live longer, better lives. Knees that ache less, backs that do not bend, bones that do not succumb. You're still human! Your DNA no different.

It's just the strength of your SOUL poking through.

Would anyone notice, if it happened slowly? Over enough generations? It's normal. Everyone here is like this. It's not superhuman. Just... HEALTHY, right? A good diet and plenty of exercise? That is what makes our skin clear and eyes sharp, teeth strong and feet sure. Right?

That healthy diet of... what was it again?

Ah yes, Ectoplasmicly charged plants? Sweet fruits and healthy vegetables. Water purged of contamination by the Ectoplasm to devours all but itself? So very crisp! Is it not?

Houses made of materials charged with it. Resting in beds, beneath covers and cloth, woven with it. Walking upon streets paved with it. What in Wakanda is NOT touched by it? In some form? Some way? Gently bathing all who live there in its unseen light?

And, tell me, WHERE do you go again? When you fall? When you join your Panther God? Mmmhmm, pockets within pockets. Lairs and territories. The Zone itself may be green, but a Lair can be what ever it's Master chooses.

But! Why do I bring this up? That the Afterlives are no doubt connected? After all, it's not like the Master's of those Lair's, the Gods that are worshipped, would just... LET people leave. It defeats the purpose of creating an "Afterlife"!

But, again! Consider! The Panther God loves the Wakandan Royal Family. They are loyal worshipers. The Panther Gods responsibility. And? The rather newly dead T'Chaka, former monarch (and thus rather informed of all the major concerns of a nation) of Wakanda, has informed the Panther God that? Gasp!

The Vibranium is, at generations long last, about to run out.

Their people are in danger.

Please! Do something!

The God can not. Buuuut... the "ghost king" of the space between, can. He must go, on a Dangerous And Heroic Soul Pilgrimage(tm) to meet with this mysterious king. Negotiate for his son and people. T'Chaka, a brave and dignified king, will of course face this challenge with all that he is.

It's very Alice in Wonderland. (The poor man.)

But the Black Panther manages to get to the still under construction castle none the less. Lead by a delightful, if mischievous, young girl by the name of "Dani" (with an i). Who reminds him, somewhat painfully, of his daughter Shuri when she was younger.

The King of the Between is a... young man.

Busy putting constellations on the ceiling, he pays them little mind. Until Dani calls out to him. Revealing that exactly like Shuri, she was a princess all along. He can see the resemblance.

He explains his issue, prepared to argue his case for however long he must. Instead he is just met with long soul searching look, a glance to Dani (who appears to vouch for him), and a nod. He is baffled. It... so easily?

People need help, he is informed. That's reason enough. Besides, Dani says you're not a fruitloop. And the young king trusts her judgment.

Let's go get your people some rocks.

(You can imagine, the ABSOLUTE SHIT STORM. Mentally, Emotionally, Politically, when the GHOST of the FORMER KING just? Shows up! Broad daylight! In the royal yard in from of the palace with a GIANT piece of Vibranium and a foreign King of The Dead.

Father... WHY. Don't get T'Challa wrong, he is about to cry he's so happy to see you. But? In PUBLIC, Father? In front of his delicious Wakandan Salad? Stop being so amused you old cat! This isn't FUNNY! Now I have to deal with this! T^T )

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[dcdreamblog]

As it happens, my birthday is now Gay Marriage Day in the United States, not the present I was looking for that year, but it's interesting. So I tend to have a lot of Pride Month stuff coming up on my various social media around that date--and this year I spotted someone at a Pride Parade I had not seen in ages.

To be precise, Extraño of the New Guardians, who as far as I know was the first "out" gay superhero of the modern era. I distinctly remember seeing on the news years ago that he was dead. So, did he come back from the dead at some point, was he just not actually dead, is this a relative or lookalike? And of course please fill us in on the backstory.

The death of Gregorio de la Vega has been greatly exaggerated, often on purpose, usually for exactly the reason you think.

Born in Trujillo, Peru, de la Vega probably has some amount of Homo Magi blood in him since he was always able to perform minor feats of magic. Until he was chosen by some sort of alien process meant to select the breeding stock for the next, greatest stage in human evolution. They empowered de la Vega, turning him into a potent sorcerer and granting him membership on this new Adam and Eve team, The New Guardians. One problem. Gregorio de la Vega is a gay man.

Very much disinterested in this whole "breeding a better humanity" thing for fairly self evident reasons. He did however, christen himself "Extrano" which is simply Spanish for "Strange", calling to the alienation and otherness he had been made to feel his whole life for how he was born. He was, he IS, the first openly gay superhero to have ever existed.

And his first costume looked like thissss

(A photograph of Extrano, the caption is meant to be encouraging to queer youths. You ARE Strange, so own it" that sort of thing.)

He is noted as speaking with an exaggerated queer affectation, referring to himself as "Auntie" and making himself the sounding board for the other members' romantic frustrations. In short, he was playing up to a stereotype. A positive version of a stereotype, a heroic persona of a stereotype, and yet a stereotype it remained. His costume eventually changed into one that was a lot more...shear. A stereotype of another kind but his affectation didn't change much. Much has been said about this. Whether he was a poor role model for indulging in these affectations, whether he was brave for simply being out at all, this that and the other thing. Here's my opinion...I don't care.

I am not going to sit here in judgment of a man whose mere existence did more for my right to live, and love and thrive comfortably in my own skin and as my own self than I could do with 100 years as dictator of the world. Was he living to an expectation in order to find what amount of acceptance he could in a queerphobic society? Maybe. Was he hiding behind it in fear of not being "gay enough" in a time and place where the idea of what queerness is was very narrow? Maybe. Was the man just honestly like that? MAYBE.

The point I am making is you'd have to ask him because the man is still alive.

He vanished from the public eye for a long time for one simple reason: Like a lot of gay men his age and of his era, Extrano contracted HIV.

The stigma attached to the condition at that time cannot be overstated and so, in seeking treatment, he put his own health first and the clucking of tabloids last. For many years the headline that he had died at a clinic somewhere in Peru, or Singapore, or Mexico, or whatever circulated every six months.

It wasn't until a few years ago when he was called upon that what had become of him was publically known: He had become an incredibly powerful, incredibly respected, incredibly FEARED arch magus. One that went toe to toe with Eclipso on live television when the villain attacked a pride parade, the event that lead to the foundation of the loose group now known as Justice League Queer.

And he looks like thi-

(A head shot of de la Vega taken from the back of his recent memoir "Queer: It Means Strange")

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da- BONK MAINTAIN PROFESSIONAL DETACHMENT!!!

Point being, the man is alive, and well and in the public eye for the first time in a LONG time. If you want to know who he is or what he thinks, you can read his book, or watch the 8 different TV interviews I was able to find on Youtube.

He's given talks about his queer journey, being gay in Latin America, being gay in Peru specifically, growing up gay in Peru in the 70s and 80s even more specifically. Living with HIV, living with HIV AS a gay man. Being an HIV positive superhero. Being a gay superhero. His treatment, his sudden thrust into being a patriarch for the queer hero community. He has been on a whistle stop tour of every single public event that will hand him a microphone. If you wanna ask this man a question, kick in the door of your nearest gay bookshop and odds are he will be giving a talk at that store when you check!

To answer your "question" when asked about rumors of his death so long circulating he is quoted as saying. "Death is not allowed to kill me until I've had my fun."

[hers-underwraps]

Does barnacles have rizz (aaa sorry this question is dumb)

I mean he clearly he had enough to rizz you up

Ok but jokes aside yes he does have rizz but it's a different type from Dashi's IMO.

I feel like his rizz exists more outside to the viewers than in the show. With the examples I used for Dashi her "rizz" could be clearly be perceived as "romantic" by the audience with little debate as what the character's feelings were. This isn't always the case for Barnacles.

I feel like one of the common debates about Barnacles within the community about whether he can/should be shipped with anyone within the show which I believe stems from the way his actions and intentions are perceived.

Barnacles is brave. He's kind, incredibly selfless and he's also a little dorky. He's also got a strong physical presence and is shown protecting other several times throughout the show. He's also very empathetic, he's a good problem solver and an excellent leader. All of these aspects make him a very comforting character.

These qualities in someone you consider romantically are very comforting; they provide a sense of security. Especially when comparing it to the real world, since in reality people are usually lacking in these qualities. He’s also very charming, heroic and masculine which are qualities that we as a society “swoon” over. Hence there is a large portion of fans who idolise him romantically because he is the "ideal" man.

However, a lot of his qualities are also quite similar to that of a parental figure or even a quality human being. Unfortunately, in reality, people are also lacking in these qualities. Some men are physically strong but lack empathy and depth, or excellent leaders who will berate their teams behind the scenes or people who were supposed to be there for you and provide security and comfort but were unreliable and fell short. These issues are heavily present in both a romantic/nonromantic context.

People cling to Barnacles for comfort in the way that best suits them which then changes how his actions are perceived.

There's also his character to take into consideration. Someone like Dashi being intentionally rizzful suits with her as a character as she is often outgoing, laid-back and fun. I genuinely can't imagine Barnacles hitting up anyone with a one-liner or being like "hey bbg" which is what people would classify as classic"rizz" (which I can totally see Dashi doing)

He's a nice person and sincere by nature. I can imagine if you were his coworker and if he was constant looking at you with caring eyes, nonchalantly saving your life at the expense of his own and always believing in you it could easily be perceived as romantic. However his intentions aren't, he just does it because he's a good person.

I can imagine people falling in love with him or professing their love and he would just be confused because he wasn't trying to be a rizzler, his actions and aura are just rizzful. He also seems like the kind of guy who would be oblivious about his own feelings for another and would take a long time to process whether he like LIKE's someone but by the time he's realised it's really easy to transfer his intentions from platonic to romantic because he's naturally acting that way already. That's the type of rizz Barnacles has.

You were probably looking for a silly answer but logistcially speaking I'd say that Barnacles absolutely has rizz