#also I’m not here to debate you on assisted suicide

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Okay, so I just had a post blazed to me about suicide. Well that is kinda what the post is about. The poster is recounting an issue they faced recently and mentioned that they had been searched and found to be in the possession of sodium nitrate which is apparently the new method for these things. They are complaining about the way that they were found out and that their SN was taken away.

I didn’t understand the post at first. Because they only referred to the SN using its abbreviation and referred to assisted suicide as “helping self-checkout”. The whole post left a bad taste in my mouth and I clicked on the comments to see what was going on. Once I saw that SN meant sodium nitrate I realised that “self-checkout” was their way to say suicide.

This was a BLAZED post! They used this way to say these things so that their post could be blazed! And I can only partially blame tumblr for accepting this because it took me a moment to figure out what the hell they were talking about.

But also Tumblr, you have got to have someone checking the content of posts better. Because there is no reason that a post about suicide should be blazed.

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑. (second part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

in the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered, for his love was a war you could never win. but if in this ruthless battlefield, only one can come out victorious, could you still turn things around and let the victor be you?

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader previously works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus is a little ooc, main story spoilers, melodic weave spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, lore heavy, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), explicit smut, cunnilingus (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, espionage, reader smoking, reckless driving, violence, spitting, choking, jealousy, usage of guns, suicide (or attempts thereof), death, and a twist in the end i can’t reveal.

♱ notes. 10.4k words too lazy to edit T-T also, there’s a scene that will remind you of nwh :))) part 1 is already fine as is, so this one is just an extra.

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Got an invitation?”

Only barely did you lift your head up, just enough to meet the bouncer’s eyes as you handed over the invitation. “I’m a regular.”

“Lady, I don’t think so.” The man scrutinized you with itching suspicion, then turned on his flashlight to verify the authenticity of your invitation by looking at every corner of the paper. Was he trying to look for any flaw just to say it was fake? Jesus. For an entire minute, his eyes darted between you and the letter, as though debating whether or not to let you inside.

“Come on,” you said impatiently, tapping your feet on the ground, “I’m not someone you should keep waiting.”

He was ready with a rebuttal, still reluctant to let you in, until a familiar sight of purple hair peeked from behind the entrance. Your savior for the night—it was Rafayel.

“Let her in,” he said, ushering you inside and giving the bouncer a knowing look. “She’s with me.”

Fucking finally. 

The neon red LED signage of The Nest flickered against the grimy walls, serving as the only bright light in the sketchy dark surroundings. The bar was a haven for those seeking refuge from the law and a place to trade secrets, as it was brimming with intel from a network of people. From high ranking officials, businessmen, and criminals—just offer your part of the bargain and you’d find a good trade in no time. 

It wasn’t your first time there, but your negative impression of the place remained unchanged.

You strode through the crowd with Rafayel, and your eyes scanned the room with practiced ease. There were still familiar faces around, though most of the people had gone unrecognized as it had been awhile since you last came here. 

“Wearing a hoodie in a place like this,” Rafayel spoke into your ear, his voice barely audible over the loud music. “You stick out like a sore thumb, you know?”

You merely shrugged, keeping your face hidden under the large black hoodie until Rafayel secured you inside a private balcony he had reserved for the night. Once inside, you quickly pulled the hoodie down and comfortably revealed your face.

“Just give me what I asked you so I can leave,” you commanded, your tone assertive.

Rafayel, however, only smirked as he sat on the couch across from you. “Be patient. We’re still missing one person.”

One person? “Who—” Your attention was caught by the figure of a lean, white-haired man entering the private balcony in a calm and quiet manner. A person so familiar to you that you couldn’t even keep eye contact with him. Xavier. 

Xavier might be civil around you, but you knew that if the circumstances were different, he would have let Lumiere show up to assassinate you in one strike. It didn’t matter if you were colleagues before, he still always had his guard around you. Though, things had become more complicated for everyone. And friends who had become enemies, were now allies again. 

Somehow.  

“Well, isn’t this a delightful gathering? I have two wanted individuals in the N109 Zone here with me,” you quipped, pointing to Rafayel first. “You’ve got a bounty on your head,” then to Xavier, “You’ve got a bounty on your head, too. Damn, I’d be rich if I turned you both in.”

Xavier stayed leaning against the door with his arms crossed. “That makes three of us, then,” he replied in a stolid mien, nodding toward the wall behind you.

Your eyes adjusted from the dark before it finally landed on a large, tattered poster pinned to the wall near the bar. The bold letters at the top read the following:

MOST WANTED! Y/N L/N Alias: Scarlet Viper Reward: 500,000,000 Credits Crimes: Betrayal of Onychinus Espionage Intelligence Leaks Treason Status: Traitor Last Known Location: N109 Zone, Linkon City Beware: Y/N L/N is considered extremely dangerous and cunning. She is highly skilled in espionage and intelligence gathering, and is now a traitor to Onychinus. Approach with extreme caution. All bounty hunters and loyal Onychinus followers are authorized to apprehend her by any means necessary. Payment will be made upon successful capture or confirmation of her whereabouts. Contact: Report all sightings and information to the Onychinus base. Payment is guaranteed for verified leads.

The grainy image was unmistakable—it was your own face in that poster staring back at you. But instead of acting hurt or even alarmed, a laugh bubbled up from deep within you, growing louder and more unhinged as you took in the sight. Heads turned from outside the private room, curious and wary, as your laughter echoed through the balcony.

“Crazy bastard,” you muttered to yourself between fits of laughter. “Sylus really went all out this time, huh?”

Preferably Alive? You mused at the highlighted words on the poster. Did he want me alive so he’d be the one to kill me? 

The absurdity of it all washed over you. Here you were, once Sylus’s most trusted confidante, now branded a traitor with a bounty on your head. Even Luke and Kieran wouldn’t spare you. In fact, they might even be the first ones to capture you had they received the slightest intel on your whereabouts. Ha ha ha! Your maniacal laughter was a cocktail of bitterness, amusement, and the thrill of the rebellion that had driven you to this point. The very people you treated like family, were now your enemies. 

You composed yourself, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you glanced around. The patrons were still watching—Xavier with concern for your sanity, and Rafayel with amusement to your charade. 

“Not what you expected from your ‘lover’?” mocked Rafayel, shifting into a more comfortable position.

But you were ready with a confident reply. “Oh, I expected just as much. It’s flattering, really, that he hasn’t found me despite all his connections.”

Xavier adopted a more serious tone when he added, “He hasn’t been seen anywhere himself. It’s been months since the raid happened, and the Onychinus faction is still leaderless.”

“Sylus isn’t that pathetic,” you replied, pulling a pack of cigarettes from your pocket. You lit one up with a flick of your lighter, and the flame briefly illuminated your face. “He’s just laying low. He’s got plenty of properties to hide in, but the H.A. will need to pay me extra if they want intel on his locations.”

Rafayel smirked. “Oh, come on now, we know you won’t give up his hideouts that easily. You still care about his safety after all. Right, Miss Scarlet?”

You displayed a defensive stance as referred to you by your alias. “I care about whether or not that hunter girl you’re all obsessed with stopped chasing after him,” you said, irritation now lacing your once-sarcastic tone. “A deal’s a deal. Keep her out of the N109 Zone and away from Sylus, and I’ll keep my hands off her. Otherwise, I’ll be happy to send a bullet or two to her head.”

“You—” “Don’t even try—”

Both boys sprang from their seats and yelled simultaneously, as if your vague threat against the apple of their eyes activated their mode of defensiveness. In all honesty, you admired how much they cared to protect that girl. That despite their rivalry, they were willing to do anything to keep her safe. You were the biggest threat to her life right now, but eliminating you wasn’t exactly an easy feat now that the H.A. had your back. 

So, this was their compromise. A mutually beneficial arrangement. In simpler terms, they need to keep the girl away from Sylus. Giving intel about Onychinus and its boss was already your part of the bargain. Theirs was to ensure that the hunter girl had no means to contact Sylus or even enter N109 Zone whenever she wanted. 

“Hand out her brooch,” you demanded, gesturing for Rafayel to hand out the very piece you were here for. “It’s about time I come home.” 

Rafayel’s eyes widened in curiosity. “You’re really returning to the N109 Zone?” 

Xavier’s face mirrored his concern, likely because you carried the largest bounty of all the wanted fugitives in the most dangerous No-Hunt Zone. But honestly, their unease puzzled you. If they wanted to keep the girl safe, having you out of Linkon City would be to their advantage. Besides, the brooch would give you unrestricted access to the N109 Zone—something you wanted to take from the hunter girl who generously received it from Sylus.

“Stop stalling and give it to me,” you insisted, your frustration growing by the second. “I’m sick of this place.”

Rafayel sighed and tossed the brooch to you. “You must be crazy.”

~~

— 1 YEAR AGO.

“You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

Sylus had the power to end you right then and there. If he truly intended to kill you to protect that woman, all he needed was to intensify the pressure of his evol around you. Yet, as he observed the shifting expressions on your face, Sylus chose to ease the bone-crushing pressure of the black-red mist that encircled your body.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath like fish out of the sea. But Sylus looked down at you with a cold, unyielding gaze. “I’m just showing you mercy now,” he said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “If you dare touch her, I’ll break every bone in your body for real next time. You’re just gonna be another dead body to me.”

With that final threat, Sylus kicked your gun away and vanished into the dead of night, leaving you alone and vulnerable in the dark alleyway. Even Mephisto, who often guarded your safety, was completely out of sight. Sylus must be happy knowing that his last words pierced through your soul—its pain gnawing at your heart and ripping every artery apart. How easily was it for him to tear you asunder despite giving you his mercy? The turmoil inside you was almost unbearable, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ultimately, you chose both.

Sitting on the gravel, you clenched your fists, tears mingling with the dirt on the concrete. Anger, spite, and hatred consumed you. All you wanted was revenge.

And so, a few weeks after that, you decided to pack your bags and run away from the N109 Zone. Away from the place where Sylus was the boss of everyone. Away from a place where his omnipresence would not reach or track you.

Your destination of choice was Linkon, not because you wanted to live in that city, but because it was once your home. Returning to the bustling metropolis after four years was driven by a single purpose, and it was to see a few key people who could help you achieve your revenge.

The bright and busy streets of Linkon City were still a stark contrast to the dark and gritty atmosphere of the N109 Zone. But because you had lived most of your years here than its more dangerous counterpart, it was easy for you to maneuver through the fast-moving crowd while navigating through the complicated subway stations that even Luke and Kieran would struggle with. That day, your mind was set on your first destination: Akso Hospital.

Dr. Zayne’s clinic was tucked away in a quiet corner of the hospital. While it took some finesse to secure an appointment under a false name, you managed it without raising suspicion. After all, four years in the N109 Zone had taught you how to camouflage into roles you never expected to play.

Obviously, he was surprised to see you entering his clinic as if he had seen a ghost. His usual stoic countenance was momentarily replaced by a state of discombobulation when you finally sat across from him in his sterile, white office. “Zayne,” you cut straight to the chase. “I need to know about the girl with the Aether Core.”

Four years ago, Zayne was the last person you talked to about the Aether Core before plunging into the dangers of the N109 Zone. He knew more about it than anyone else in Linkon. Therefore, he would also be the first person you sought out upon your return.

Dr. Zayne’s expression remained impassive, however. “I’m afraid patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing any details.”

You leaned forward, your voice low and urgent, as you pressed a hand against his desk. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Zayne. I need answers. How and where does she have it?”

You had to know. You really, badly ought to know. Because knowing where she had the Aether Core would acquaint you where exactly to target her when the opportunity arises.

But in spite of the desperation in your voice, Dr. Zayne regarded you with a cool, clinical detachment. “Whatever you’re planning, I would prefer that you don’t involve an innocent person in it. If you want answers, seek it somewhere else.”

Dammit! His actions and strange avoidance of the subject were all the hints you needed. Zayne liked that girl. And he would never be the person to put her in a dangerous position. 

In that case, there was only one place left to turn, a place you had avoided for far too long. It even took you three days to gather the confidence you needed to even step foot into the familiar halls of The Hunter's Association’s most secretive department, the Hunter Intelligence Services or the HIS—the very place where undercover agents and intelligence officers resided. It was hidden beneath the city and only the high ranking hunters knew and had access to it, because being a spy certainly wasn’t for the weak heart. 

It was time to confront your true past.

The entryway to the headquarters didn’t change. And to your surprise, pulling out your access card still granted you entrance to the quarters. Were they anticipating your return or did they simply miss the task of revoking your access card?

Descending further into the underground facility, however, you were met with a familiar sense of unease. The sterile, metal hallways seemed to close in around you as you approached Lauryn’s office. She was the head of the department, your true boss, and the person who tasked you into infiltrating the N109 Zone four years ago.

Lauryn was there as you entered, her sharp eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms at you. You were right. She did anticipate your arrival, because the advanced CCTV monitors around the city were displayed all over the room. “What brings you back to the fold?” she asked, stern and unwelcoming, “Are you going to beg on my knees for turning your back against the Hunter’s Association?”

Feisty as ever. Her austerity was harsher than you remembered, but then again, there was no room for shame after all the crimes you committed while supposedly being a spy in the N109 Zone. 

“I need your help,” you admitted, shamelessly. “I have intel on Sylus and the Onychinus. Extremely valuable information that you need. In exchange, there’s something I want you to do.” 

Lauryn’s expression was unreadable as she leaned back against the wall. “So, you’ve decided to turn on your beloved Sylus? What happened to your loyalty? Is it always this unstable?”

You took a deep breath, not allowing her words to get to you. “I just… need to protect my interests.”

“Interests?” The woman guffawed at your chosen words. “And do your interests also include betraying the H.A. because you fell in love with the enemy? Or did the enemy also betray you that’s why you’re crawling back here now?” 

She hit the sore spot, but you masked your voice with defensive indifference. “If that’s how you define it, then so be it. I’m not asking to be recruited by the H.A. again, I know that. I broke the Hunter’s Code and I’m marked as a Tenebra now, but…” Letting out a heavy exhale, you looked into her eyes, “Lauryn, you know I have the most intel you’ll get about Sylus and Onychinus out of everyone. Not even Xavier as Lumiere would have this much intel as I do.” 

How could she deny such an offer? You knew the temptation was heavy since you were speaking the truth; you worked for Sylus for four years. You have all the necessary intel they need to even get to him.

For a millisecond, you caught the corner of Lauryn’s lips twitching upwards with a glint of approval hiding in her eyes, but she was pretty good at concealing her emotions. “Very well. Share your intel, and I’ll see what I can do.”

~~

The past year had been a blur of longing and subterfuge. 

You supplied Lauryn with detailed intelligence on Onychinus’s illicit activities, including their smuggling routes, black market transactions, and the clandestine trade of armory and protocores with corrupt officials. You also exposed Sylus’s personal connections to the high ranking officials who were secretly doing business with him. This information immediately set off a series of events aimed at destabilizing Onychinus, providing sufficient evidence to provoke a significant response from the Hunter’s Association and law enforcement.

In return, you requested two things: 1) for the Hunter’s Association to offer you protection and support against Onychinus’s threats; and 2) for them to enforce restrictions and surveillance on the hunter girl, ensuring she remained completely isolated from Sylus and the N109 Zone.

It would have been better if they had chastised her. You had convinced Lauryn that a public whipping would be the perfect punishment, but the H.A. upheld principles far better than yours. After all, you had been stripped of your morality after living in a lawless environment under the influence of the mastermind himself. Being in the N109 Zone for too long dehumanized you. But for your peers in Linkon… they could never harm that hunter girl for some reason, and had been treating her like a valuable asset under everyone's protection—even Sylus’s.

You hated it. You hated her. And each time you caught a glimpse of her around Linkon, your hands were often itching to take out a gun and end her life. 

But that was easier said than done. Besides, you decided to harness all of your anger towards Sylus himself because he was the one who had tossed you aside after she came to his life. He was the one responsible for the wounds in your heart that would never heal. 

It had been a year. You wondered if he ever even thought about you, or did his anger completely consume him to the point where all he wanted to do was kill you? 

“Of course,” you mumbled under your breath, scoffing as you remembered the bounty he had placed on you. He was definitely apoplectic at the fact that you ruined his plans, and that you took his precious hunter girl away from him. The thought of you betraying him and Onychinus probably made him ballistic. 

But to think about it, who betrayed who first?

Everyone knew the difficulty of getting into the N109 Zone. Keeping yourself safe while inside the lawless city was also another struggle. Yet, for someone like you who belonged here better than in Linkon, you were already used to the ins and outs of its dangerous scene. And having the hunter girl’s brooch was your gateway to return to the city unsuspiciously. 

Pushing through the throng of people, you made your way to a nondescript door at the back of the bar. Two burly guards stood in front, their expressions deadpan as they eyed the beaked mask you were wearing. You wore the Onychinus uniform, one that was similar to Luke and Kieran’s, in order to hide your identity. For now. 

“Is it a man?” 

“No, a woman! Look at her body behind the uniform.” 

“You think we should let her in?”

“Idiot, she’s from Onychinus! You can’t deny her entrance.”

With a nod, you handed over a small token—your entry pass to the underground fight club that operated in the depths of an abandoned warehouse. “Fellas, I have a pass if you need it.” 

The guards stepped aside, finally allowing you entry after you showed a token that was marked by the Onychinus insignia. And as you descended the dimly lit staircase, the roar of the crowd and the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh grew louder. The anticipation began to thrum in your veins.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were here, but you knew you needed information on Sylus. Anywhere. And what better way to hear about him than to visit a place where his presence often loomed large? Maybe you could even take out your frustrations in the ring tonight. With every punch and kick, you would remind yourself of the path you had chosen—a path leading to Sylus’s downfall, no matter the cost.

As you stepped into the arena, an irregular thumping in your heart began to destabilize you. You forced yourself to focus, squeezing between people loudly cheering for the current match, screaming their biases, and trash-talking the opponents. Clusters of people gathered around the ring and placed their bets on their favorite fighters. How nostalgic, you mused. You used to come here with Sylus on Friday nights. And turned the rest of those active nights into passionate ones.

Now’s not the time to reminisce. Your chest was starting to feel tighter, unsure if it was because of the crowd or the uncomfortable thought of being back in the N109 Zone. But the more time you spent inside the fight club, the more your heart felt like it was being squeezed. You had to make a move now before it was too late. 

The fight club continued to throb with a visceral energy, and you stood in the shadows, the hood of your cloak still pulled low to hide the overwhelming pressure you were feeling inside your body. You managed to weave through the people, while your ears were attuned to the murmur of conversations in hopes of catching intel on Sylus. 

That was, until a group of grizzled men to your left caught your attention, and their voices were rising above the din.

“I’ve got five hundred credits on the big guy,” one of them boasted, slapping a hefty stack of bills into the hand of a bookie.

“You’re gonna lose,” another jeered. “That scrawny kid’s faster. I bet he’ll surprise everyone.”

You lingered nearby, pretending to adjust your hoodie while listening intently to their conversation.

“Hey, did you hear about Sylus?” one man whispered, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

Your pulse quickened at the mention of his name, and you took a step closer, careful not to draw attention.

“Yeah. He hasn’t been seen in weeks, ain’t he? Word is, he’s gone underground. Something big must’ve gone down.”

“Big? That’s an understatement. They say someone ratted him out to the Hunter’s Association that’s why his base got raided. He’s also got a bounty on his head now, and not just any bounty—a serious one. Every hunter and merc in the zone's looking for him.”

“What about the hot chick he’s been seen with? You think she’s involved?”

“Dunno,” the first man whispered. “But if she’s smart, she’ll lay low. Sylus doesn’t take kindly to betrayal, and neither do his people.”

You bit your lip as the urge to ask questions was getting heavy. But you knew better. Drawing attention to yourself now could be disastrous. So, you had to think of how to navigate this situation first. The fight in the ring reached a fever pitch, and the crowd’s roar swelled. Perhaps joining today’s fight might not be a good idea after all, and instead, you should harness your remaining energy into preparing for the time you would have to face Onychinus again. 

Sylus was in hiding, the hunter girl had been isolated, and you had made yourself a target.

It was for the best that you stormed out of the fight club, helmet on, speeding away on a motorcycle you had rented. Riding in the N109 zone was always a thrilling escape, and it now became your dangerous distraction from the turbulent thoughts that plagued your mind. Sylus. Sylus. Sylus. Where did he hide? 

In your trail of thoughts, you revved the engine, and its roar echoed along the stretch of dark roads as you maneuvered your bike towards the highway. 

There was no other vehicle around you.

Until a truck appeared. 

Not just any truck—it was a supertruck, with its headlights blazing and tailing you like a predator. 

The lights tried to blind you, but you took off, and the world around you instantly became a blur of speed and sound. You leaned into the bike, feeling the wind whip against your face as you cornered into the nearest exit. But no matter how fast you went, you couldn’t outrun such a large, fast-moving vehicle. You knew that if you didn’t accelerate into sixth gear or until you hit the rev limiter, you would be dead. 

He’s fucking out for me! 

Lost in thought, your eyes focused too much on looking back and forth between the road and the stealth mirrors before you got rear-ended by the truck. The impact was jarring, and it sent you flying off your bike and crashing onto the hard, cold ground. Upon impact alone, pain immediately exploded in your body. And the burning, stinging sensation was brought upon by the road rash you obtained after you skidded along the rough concrete road. It was intense pain—like a thousand searing needles piercing every inch of your skin. Your flesh felt as if it were being flayed by red-hot knives, each scrape and cut screaming with a fire that seemed unquenchable. The raw, exposed nerves throbbed violently, sending electric shocks of pain through your entire body, and making every heartbeat feel like a hammer blow. 

Aghh! It was a relentless, burning torment, and the slightest movement amplified the suffering, every breath dragging razors through your shredded skin. But you refused to cry out, refusing to give the culprit the satisfaction. Was it Sylus? 

As much as you wanted to lift your helmet and find the culprit, the shock from the crash was an all-consuming inferno of agony, the kind that made the world blur and darken at the edges, and eventually pulled you into a black abyss of unconsciousness.

The last thing you remembered was being carried in the arms of a man. 

~~

“Think she’s in a coma?”

Voices filtered through your ears, distant yet distinct. Familiar, mischievous voices that sent a shiver down your spine. You could barely open your eyes, your fingers twitching as you slowly regained consciousness.

“Maybe.” That was Luke’s voice. “Or maybe she’s just pretending. Wouldn’t put it past her after she spied on us for years.”

“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Kieran egged on. “Always scheming, always one step ahead. And she’s tougher than she looks! Surviving that crash?”

“But not invincible.”

Their exchange suddenly took a halt, replaced by a discomfiting silence that made you wish you could force your eyes open in a mere count to ten. You tried to move, to make a sound, to let them know you were not in a coma, that you could hear every word. But your body remained stubbornly still, as if pressed down by an unseen weight. 

“You think boss-man will forgive her?” It was Kieran who asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Luke snorted. “Forgive? She’s a traitor. If she wakes up, she’s a dead woman walking.”

No! Upon realizing that this wasn’t a dream or a figment of your imagination, the beat of your heart began to accelerate, vibrating loud and aggressive against your chest. The sound of the twins’ footsteps eventually faded, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of your half-conscious state. Fear and regret coiled within you, but there was also a flicker of determination. 

That if you wake up—when you wake up—you would have to face Sylus. And you would have to find a way to survive.

Time lost its meaning as you floated between wakefulness and sleep. A minute, an hour, days must have gone by. Eventually, you could hear classical music being played in the background and became aware of a new presence in the room, then a weight on the edge of your bed. That familiar cardamom and leather scent. A hand soon brushed your forehead, cool and gentle. Sylus? You wanted to open your eyes, to see him, to speak, but your body refused to obey.

“You can’t hide from me forever,” his voice murmured. His breath was warm when you felt it on your ear. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.” 

Darkness tugged at you again, pulling you under, but not before the fear took root. The weight on your chest suddenly lifted, as if an invisible force released its hold on you. Your eyes then snapped open and your lungs burned as you dragged in deep, desperate gulps of air. 

“Where—” You struggled to sit up with your weak body trembling from days of enforced stillness. Every movement felt foreign, muscles protesting as you pushed yourself upright. The room spinned for a moment before your vision cleared, and you saw him.

“Awake?” Sylus stood at your side, his crimson eyes burning with fire as he looked down on you like a master to his subject. 

“What… what did you do to me?” you manage to ask even though your voice was hoarse. “It was y-you in that truck!” 

“Oh, honey. I don’t ride in cheap trucks. Besides, I saved you from that crash,” Sylus replied, almost nonchalantly. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice. And also a ‘long time no see’, don’t you think?”

If it wasn’t him on that truck, then… “It’s still a hitman you hired because of that bounty!”

Sylus didn’t change. His silky gray hair, his vivid carmine eyes, his pinkish thin lips. Whenever he smirked, it was still the handsome old him. “I won’t deny that, sweetie. But I had to kill the guy for doing a poor job. My instructions were to not get you badly injured, and only to scare you.” 

“Liar,” you spat, “I bet you’d be happier if I was incapacitated.”

“Please. You’d serve no good to me if you’re dead or permanently disabled.” Sylus reached down to pull the duvet away from your body, and your supposed road rash and injuries were seemingly gone, replaced by newly-healed scars. “Your body needed time to recover, and I couldn’t afford to lose you. Not yet. So I had to put you in an induced state.” 

His words sent a chill down your spine. How he did it, you had no idea, but with Sylus, anything was possible. Anything! After all, he had all the connections and the rarest protocores. 

“Three days,” he continued, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving your face as he lifted your chin with his finger. “I kept you under for three days. Enough time for your wounds to heal. You recognize where you are?”

When he trailed off, you looked around the room and realized you weren’t in the Onychinus base nor his presidential suite. It was one of his many residences—the underground shelter. 

“Why are we here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound strong.

Sylus extended a hand once more, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained hard, unreadable. “Ask that to yourself, kitten,” he says quietly. “We’re here because an ungrateful stray cat decided to leak the location of my other residences.”

You swallowed hard when you felt him grab you by the neck, his tight grip restraining any air from entering your windpipe. “S-Sylus!” 

His eyes had unruly flames beneath them. “You were a spy?” 

As his grip loosened a little to let you speak, you still ended up choking from asphyxiation. “S-So what if I was?” You tried to push him off. “It only means I caught you lacking. You allowed me to infiltrate Onychinus without knowing my background.” 

Sylus’s hand trailed gently over your cheek, his touch lingering longer than necessary.  “I’d blame it on your cunning face,” he said, almost seductively. He then shifted to lower himself onto the bed, both knees on either side of you, pinning you down. His eyes locked onto yours with a dark, predatory gleam. “Any man is a willing fool to a pretty face and a sexy body.”

You swatted his hand in response, your back hitting the headboard as you scrambled for distance. “How many times have you recycled that line between me and that hunter girl with the Aether Core?” 

At the mention of her, Sylus’s deep chuckle erupted and reverberated through the dark room. It was a chilling sound that was full of twisted amusement. “Ah, I almost forgot about the root of your betrayal,” he remarked with a mocking grin. “Jealousy.”

“You wouldn’t be laughing if I had killed her,” you spat, struggling to break free as Sylus slammed you back onto the bed. “Let me go—!” It was a fierce contest of strength, with you pinned beneath him, and him on top of you in an undeniable display of dominance. But you fought back. You resisted. And in an effort to offend, you ejected spit onto his cheek. “Let go!” 

Sylus was caught off guard, but he stayed unfazed, wiping your spit from his cheek before gripping your neck again. “You really want to play this game, honey? I love how sick in the head you are.”

“You m-made me like this.” You choked in between words. “In the end, I still achieved my goal. Now you have no way to see or contact that girl.”

“Says who?” Sylus’s sarcastic tone made your heart sink. Is he still in touch with her?!

“What do you—”

“Don’t be dense, kitten.” Sylus soon grabbed you by the collar, handling you like a ragdoll as he threw you onto the floor with a resounding thud. Pain shot through your hip, but Sylus’s expression held no remorse. You knew he could do worse. “I have my own ways of ensuring she’s safe and protected. I can still see her whenever I want.”

That was when the tears started to fall uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop them—nor could you hold back the words that poured out. “Y-You! I ran away from the N109 Zone for a whole year. I disappeared from your life for a whole goddamn year, Sylus. Yet not once did you look for me, not once did you worry about me, not once did you make sure I was safe. But for her, you—”

“It’s only natural to protect someone important to you.” He crouched down to meet your eyes as if pouring salt to the wound. “I’d let the world burn for her, honey. You and her aren’t the same. She’s not someone who would betray me.” 

“I betrayed you because of her!” 

His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened. The cruel curve of his lips was the kind of smile that enjoyed seeing your agony. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”

You tried to move away, but he kept his foot firmly on your wrist, stepping on your hand was his constant reminder of your powerlessness. The distance between you was a stark symbol of how he saw you—a mere object of disdain.

“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with wicked satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”

In a moment of desperation, you snatched the nearest weapon from his nightstand while tears blurred your vision. It hurt. His words, his treatment, and the stark difference in how he treated her compared to you were too much. You should have ended this long ago before he had the chance to wreck you all over again.

And so, with a gun in your hand, you cocked and raised it. 

But instead of pointing it towards Sylus, you surprised him by pointing it to yourself. 

The gun’s nozzle was pressed against your temple, your finger inching toward the trigger. 

“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, flowing out like an endless waterfall, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment. “Now I don’t have anyone left.” Pausing, you locked eyes with his crimson ones. You didn’t want him to be the one to kill you, because the thought alone was fatal. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”

Even as his gaze softened, as a flicker of regret crossed his features, you already drove your finger to pull the trigger. The recoil immediately jolted through your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark and penetrate your skull, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. So instead of blowing your brains out, the bullet ricocheted off the now-shattered window.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his orotund voice an amalgam of anger and disbelief.

Tears blurred your vision, but you were still able to look at his bright red eyes as he cupped your cheeks. Your entire body shook hysterically for someone who had just almost ended her own life. This is what he wanted, right? You asked yourself over and over, but couldn’t find the energy to respond to his calls for your name. 

“Y/N,” Sylus agitatedly tried to shake you, “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.” 

You stared at his face blankly as reality flickered and faded, like an old film reel skipping frames. “I was never playing one with you.”

Sylus was suddenly a different person in front of you. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me. It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe,” he spoke in a low yet softened tone, “Why don’t you listen?”

The tension in the room was suffocating, and each second dragged into eternity. Sylus’s question remained unanswered until the loud burst of the door shattered the silence. You flinched, heart pounding, as you saw the very subject of your heartbreak.

The hunter girl stormed in, eyes wild in fear. “Sylus! Are you okay? I heard a gunshot—” she cried out, scanning the room frantically until her gaze landed on the two of you. She then froze, taking in the sight of you and Sylus on the floor, the gun lying ominously near your hand. Putting two-and-two together probably made her think that you tried to kill the man in front of you. “Sylus, step back!”

“Wait!”

Without hesitation, she aimed her gun squarely at you. But right before you could react, the gun was fired. And the shattering sound of another gunshot echoed in the room.

Time seemed to slow as you fell, the world spinning around you when you felt a sudden, searing pain on your head. Sylus’s eyes widened in shock, his hand reaching out just in time to catch you before your head hit the floor. 

“No!” Sylus’s voice was raw, hysterical, filled with a pain you’d never heard from him before as he cradled your head gently—his face a mask of both horror and disbelief when your blood pooled on his arms. “Y/N, no! Fuck, what did you do?!”

You struggled to focus, your vision blurring as darkness encroached. Sylus’s eyes were strangely wet with tears, desperation etched into every line of his sharp features. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t cry over someone unimportant to him. So, why…? 

You tried to speak, but the effort was monumental.

Who knew that your life would end at the hands of another woman?

Yet, it was the karma you deserved for your wrongdoings.

“I... love... you,” you whispered to Sylus, nonetheless. Each word was a struggle, and your breath hitched as you forced them out, but you had to let him know. For the last time. 

You saw the pain in his eyes deepen, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of something close to peace. That was when Sylus’s grip tightened, his tears falling onto your face as he held you close. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Don’t leave. I can’t let this happen!”

He must have noticed how your eyes were glassy and unfocused, staring off into the distance without really seeing anything. Pure numbness was you would best describe it. And as your life slipped away, you felt a strange sense of relief. 

In the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered. His love was a war you couldn’t win, and your loss, a defeat you couldn’t bear. For in his eyes, you saw both your greatest triumph and your deepest fall, where the lines between the victor and the vanquished blurred into the shadows of a bittersweet end.

But at least, you had said what mattered most, and that in your final moments, you were held by the one person you loved. The rightful owner of your heart. The conqueror of your soul. It was him, Sylus Qin, and no one else.

~~

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Two black coffees, three espressos, and a caramel macchiato, extra caramel!” A peculiar guy placed orders one after another, followed by his twin’s mischievous laughter. 

You turned to face them, offering a polite smile even though you were worried deep inside if they were just pulling a prank. They were regulars, always coming in with their complicated orders and playful banter. Yet, something about them seemed oddly familiar, and they always gave you a nagging sensation you couldn’t quite place.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small café you were working at in the Bloomshore District. You were standing behind the counter while the rush of customers was relentless. You barely even had a moment to catch your breath today, and here came the twins creating yet another one of their complicated orders. 

“Coming right up,” was your monotonous reply, your hands deftly moving to prepare their drinks. But as you worked, the twins exchanged amused glances, their eyes flicking over you with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

“Actually, can I make a small change to that?” the other twin interjected with a grin.

You sighed inwardly but kept your smile. “Sure, what would you like?”

“Okay, so for the black coffee, can you add a splash of almond milk, two pumps of hazelnut syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top?” one of the twins began. “For the espressos, I need one with a shot of vanilla, one with a shot of caramel, and the last one with a double shot of mint. And for the caramel macchiato, make sure it's extra caramel, but can you also add a dash of sea salt and a drizzle of dark chocolate on top?”

Gosh. They were menaces. 

“Do you think you can remember our orders?” the other twin remarked, leaning on the counter. “Because you don’t seem to remember our names.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “We have lots of customers everyday. I’m not really good with names.”

When the bell above the door chimed, your attention was immediately drawn to the towering man with ash gray hair and bright crimson eyes. His presence was commanding even in the relaxed atmosphere of the café; he carried such a dominant aura that even the twins backed off from pestering you the moment he entered the coffee shop.

“Good evening, Mr. Skye,” you greeted, your tone warming at the sight of him. The man had become a regular fixture in your life. Every day, like clockwork, he came in for his coffee, and every day, he lingered just a bit longer, watching you with eyes that seemed to see more than you could comprehend.

He nodded, his eyes staying on you while he was pointing towards the twins. “Are they bothering you?” 

You were under the impression that the twins worked for Mr. Skye, but the type of relationship they had with their boss was none of your business. That was why although the twins could get really annoying as customers, especially when they tend to change their orders a lot, you still didn’t want them to get in trouble over something as little as that.

“No, they’re fine,” you answered with a smile. “Are you going to get the usual today, Mr. Skye?”

“Yes, please.” The tall man studied your face with a focused gaze—it was as though he was trying to read your mind, trying to interpret the emotions on your face, as he looked at you intently. He always did this. Every single day he came in, even from afar, you had grown accustomed to his watchful gaze. Yet even with the awkwardness it brought, he also knew how to keep his distance. He always treated you with respect and was always the first person to come to your aid when things did get unruly in the cafe. Broken coffee machine, spilled coffee, entitled customers. Name it, and he was always present to help around.

It was strange. Really, really strange. And what’s even stranger was that, every time he looked at you, the tenderness in his eyes that often opposed the fiery red color of his irises. Perhaps, you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

As you wrote his name on the plastic cup, you heard him suddenly clear his throat. “Miss Y/N, forgive me. I couldn’t help but notice that scar,” he said with a poignant stare, gesturing towards your temple. “Quite a story behind that, I imagine?”

Your hand instinctively touched the faint scar, a puzzled look crossing your face. You had always been insecure about the scar on your temple, because not only was it unattractive, it was also extremely visible. Not even a laser treatment could help clear it out. 

“Oh, uh… I’m not really sure how I got it,” you admitted, searching through your mind’s archive to no avail. “I was told it was while I was fighting off wanderers. I don’t remember much from that time because I’ve since retired from the Hunter’s Association.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, as if his heart dropped from a memory he had recalled, but he quickly masked his expression. “So, you’re a hunter?”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. But it’s all in the past now.”

Mr. Skye stood there waiting for his order with an unreadable expression on his face. And you wondered why he looked heartbroken while lost in deep thought. Was he having a bad day? Going through a break-up? You weren’t nosey enough to ask. Eventually, his order was done and he took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. 

“Sometimes the past has a way of catching up to us.” His deep voice was smooth and soft when he spoke again. “But perhaps it’s best to focus on the present.”

You smiled, feeling a strange comfort in his words. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to… have dinner with me sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden invitation. A date?! You couldn’t remember the last time you were even in love. All you could recall was having a silly childhood crush on your neighbor, but then again, that was more than a decade ago. You knew nothing about dating at your age and it was ridiculous. But there was something about Mr. Skye, a familiarity you couldn’t ignore, and that rejecting his offer seemed wrong in your head. 

Besides, you couldn’t deny how extremely handsome he was. 

“Um, sure… Mr. Skye.”

“Perfect,” he said with a small smile, his gaze softening into one of genuine joy. “Tomorrow evening, then?”

Before you could agree on a schedule, the sudden flash of lightning illuminated the interior for a brief moment. Then, the subsequent crash of thunder made you jump, following the sound of rain pounding against the windows that filled the small space. Oh, boy. 

“Ugh. How am I going to get home in this weather?” you muttered to yourself.

Mr. Skye, who had been quietly watching you from his spot, gave you an offer. “Need a ride?” he asked, his voice gentle but carrying a note of urgency. “It’s too dangerous to walk or wait for a cab in this storm.”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’d really appreciate that, Mr. Skye. But what about your,” you pointed towards the oblivious twins who were sitting on the corner, “minions?” 

Your chosen term elicited a deep chuckle from the man. “Don’t mind them. They know their way back home.” 

“But boss!”

“Boss, you said you’ll let me drive the sportscar tonight!” 

“I’ll wait for you until your shift ends,” Mr. Skye ignored the duo and responded to you with an endearing smile. “No rush.” 

It didn’t take long until you locked up the shop, but you did feel bad that Mr. Skye had to stay with you until ten in the evening when he could have already gone home. In fact, he had been acting strange. Acting too familiar with you. Did he already know you prior to your small interactions in the cafe for the past few weeks? 

He held the door open for you as soon as you secured the shop, and together you ran through the torrential rain to his black sportscar. You were already aware that he was a wealthy man, and yet, you always wondered why he preferred a small, laid-back cafe in the Bloomshore Distrct rather than the lavish ones in Azure Square or even Universum. Was it to see you all along?

Jeez, you had so many unanswered questions in your head. Yet, you were also afraid to address the elephant in the room because you believed in the saying that ignorance is bliss. So in the end, the drive was quiet, the only sounds being the rhythm of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. Mr. Skye didn’t speak a word and nor did you.

Once you reached your apartment, he quickly rushed out of the car and headed to open your door. He even used his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, covering you from the heavy rainfall. It was almost funny, really, how his face screamed of danger but he was actually quite a gentleman. 

In return, you had to invite him in out of courtesy. “Would you like to come in for a while? It’s still pouring out there.”

He accepted your offer with a nod, and followed you like a tail inside. “Do you usually invite other people, too?” 

“Sometimes,” you casually answered while the both of you walked through the empty corridors. “Why?” 

“You aren’t talking about male colleagues, right?” he asked, seemingly taking a deep breath. 

That wasn’t any of his concern, obviously. But the drive to test his emotions was strong. “Sometimes,” you said, finally reaching your door and unlocking it with your fingerprint. “Welcome to my home.”

The warmth of your apartment was a stark contrast to the cold storm outside, and you felt a little conscious of your small living space knowing that he probably lived in a luxurious presidential suite. It didn’t help that he started looking around your place, as if studying the smallest details of every corner for a reason you couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t sure if he was simply silently judging the aesthetics of your home, but you were beginning to feel uncomfortable as you placed his coat on the rack, watching the way he stopped to look at your photo on the wall. 

It was like he felt a pang of sorrow. 

“You’ve really erased me completely, kitten,” he quietly whispered.

You turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe that’s for the better,” he replied, but his expression betrayed him. It was clear that he was holding back a flood of emotions. 

Your heart started to race, pounding at a rhythm that you had never experienced before. And just then, you could see how tears welled up in his eyes. Tears that he concealed by leaning in to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. His hands cupped your face, and you could feel the intensity of his suppressed feelings that seemed to transcend the confines of your apartment. The yearning. The longingness. Perhaps, it was even sprinkled with feelings of regret. 

“Mr. Skye, wait—!” You pulled away with wide, bewildered eyes, shocked by the fervor of his kiss. No matter how attractive he was, he was still a stranger to you. But then, your breath came in shallow gasps as a sudden, sharp pain began to explode in your head. A throbbing pulse spread from your temples and radiated outwards. It was a stabbing sensation that seemed to slice through your skull, as if a thousand needles were jabbing into your brain. What’s happening? 

Mr. Skye’s face appeared above you. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a mix of worry and something deeper. He was whispering something about a protocore in your head, but you could barely understand a word, not when the ache in your temple was overcoming you entirely. 

You were unable to form words, clutching your head with both hands in hopes of stopping the ache for even a little. But the pain was overwhelming. Too overwhelming for you to handle, and it came to a point where tears of pain began streaming down your face.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. 

He gently guided you on the couch, his touch careful and soothing. “Just breathe,” he murmured, offering a comforting presence like buoy in an open sea. “It’s my fault, kitten. I shouldn’t have kissed you so suddenly.” The intensity of the moment had shifted because of how tender his touch was. “You’re safe here,” he gently whispered into your ear. “Let the pain pass. I’ll be here with you.”

As the pain began to subside, you could feel the storm in your head gradually receding. And in his presence, you felt a strange mix of comfort and unease.

Studies say that a kiss can help calm someone’s nerves. You weren’t sure where that research was based on, but it was your body who allowed itself to seek it from the man in front of you. While your mind was telling you no, your heart was urging you to grab his shirt and pull him, once again, to a passionate kiss. 

The kiss deepened naturally, and you found yourself responding to his need as the pull between you became irresistible. You were like a magnet to him—the force of attraction getting stronger and stronger the closer you were. Where was it coming from? How come you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame? 

And while you were engaged in a tight lip-locking moment, you both ended up walking towards your bedroom; stumbling towards the bed, hands exploring, hearts racing. Soon, you were lost in each other, and the world outside was forgotten. 

With both your clothes discarded on the floor, and with your steamy exchange continuing throughout the night, you found yourself eventually straddling him, moving your body to meet him with a gentle thrust. Every sway of your hips made his member hit you at your sweet spot, instantly sending a wave of pleasure within your body. 

“S-Sir—”

“Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curve, “Call me Sylus, kitten.” 

Sylus. Sylus. The name sounded familiar yet foreign at the same time, but you were too sensually intoxicated to think about the history behind his name. All you could selfishly focus on at the moment was reaching your high. You were losing your mind over the euphoric sensation of having an intercourse with such a man who, not only was attractive on the face, but also on the body. 

Sylus was packed. His muscles were toned from a seemingly consistent active lifestyle and intense workout routines. It felt great when you ran your hands along his broad shoulders, down to his toned chest, and further down to his perfectly sculpted abs. 

“Mmh—!” A moan escaped your lips when you felt his shaft going deeper inside. “That’s…”

‘Good?” he whispered to your lips, encasing yours with his before he trailed his soft kisses around your neck. Each kiss definitely left a purple mark on your skin with the way he was suckling and nibbling on the flesh. 

God, he was huge, too. His member completely filled you, stretched you even, as his cocktip kissed your cervix in a single thrust. He was crazy good at knowing all your sensitive places, holding your hips down so he could start pounding you upwards. Your tits began to bounce wildly and you even had to hold onto the headboard for support, because he was starting to go deeper and faster inside you. 

“Ngh!” 

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed this,” he said in between shaky breaths before latching his mouth into your right tit. He devoured your breast like a meal, playing with the nipple with the precise movements of his tongue. It was so good. Crazy good. It made you wonder how he seemed hyper-aware of the things you liked in bed. But how would that be possible when this was your first time having sex with him? 

Sylus decided to shift the control by flipping you over, and hoisting your hips so he could lower his head down to your lady part. Your eyes almost rolled back when he spread your labia apart so he could lick your inner folds and taste every corner of your slick-coated cavern. 

“S-Sylus,” you whined as his tongue rapidly moved in and out of your entrance until drool oozed down on your cunt. His eyes fluttered as he pulled his face away, soon palming your wet vulva with slow strokes. “Mmh…” 

He eyed you with a tender gaze. “You’re so beautiful to me.” 

It was certainly odd that his compliment seemed to touch your heart deeper than intended—that if you weren’t doing sexual activities right now, your heart would have been fluttering from his sweetness, especially when he met your lips again with a soft, loving kiss. 

This time, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t detach his lips from yours, even as he was penetrating you with his cock again. With a single thrust, you were mewling into his mouth. His girthy member gave you a heavenly stretch that seemed to awaken the lustful demon inside of you. 

Even Sylus was cussing under his breath as he continued to slam his entire length in, soon increasing the speed of his penetration to a pace that made him reach his peak. At this point, the coil in your lower abdomen was beginning to intensify, and you were clamping around his cock as if your walls weren’t tight enough to make him release a series of guttural moans. 

“Are you near?” With a quick suction on your left breast, his own moans left his lips along with the loud squelching noises that filled the room. “‘Cause I am.” 

Coincidentally, you were just arching your back because of how near you were, too. With screams getting louder, gasps causing your mouths to part open, and two people connected into a single body—you disintegrated under him as your lower abdomen signaled your orgasm and your toes started curling. “Ngh—Haah! Aah!”

“Hold on for me, kitten.” Sylus pounded into you through your overstimulation, picking up the pace until spurts of seed were sent straight to your womb. His movements became sloppy and uneven, pulling out of you only to see his semen seeping out of your pussy. 

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t fucking believe you just hooked up with a stranger. 

But was he really one? Because your heart was telling you one thing, but your mind was telling you another. You didn’t know who to trust and listen to.  

After your passionate session, the room was filled with the sound of your breaths mingling. Sylus, still holding you close, leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek, whispering, “How’s it?”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you asked the very question that had been plaguing your mind, “Sylus, please be honest with me,” you paused, “Did you know me before?” 

He was silent. 

But you continued, “What was our relationship?”

Sylus looked like he was contemplating his answer, his gaze distant. His eyes seemed to have found your ceiling interesting as he thought deeply, drawing in a deep breath, and gently caressing your arm. If you didn’t know better, you swore you could see the sorrow and resignation in his eyes—the somberness he tried to hide with a smile. 

“Let’s just say I’m a fool who was in love with you for years, but you never reciprocated my love.”

“How so?” you asked, turning to face him. You absorbed his words while the pain of his unrequited love intersected with your own confusion. His answer didn’t quite feel right, but if he was truly your lover, then you knew there was a level of trust you should be placing on him. “Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?” 

“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he continued, lachrymose eyes staring back at you as he stroked your hair, “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.” 

Sylus’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the facade of the composed, enigmatic man you had come to know seemed to crack. 

The vulnerability in his voice resonated with you, and you reached up to touch his face gently. “Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” Realizing that you were rambling, you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips while thinking of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.” 

As the rain continued its gentle patter against the window, you both settled into the quiet of the room until he pressed his lips onto yours once more. 

Sylus’s touch was tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You should know,” he said quietly and earnestly, “that this time, I’ll only have eyes for you.”

FINAL PART

[kogetaikid]

TW! UTY pacifist Spoilers!!!

Before people think I’m turning into a reblog account, here’s some of my misinterpretations of UTY pacifist before completing the game (there’s only two but Vera with me

1. Ceroba wanted to inject Kanako with INTEGRITY.

(Drawing unrelated, but you’ll know why I put it later)

When playing the pacifist, I thought the Ceroba misunderstood Chujin’s final message before he died, and convinced Kanako to get injected. However, during the Ceroba fight, in one of her memories, we see this:

(Cutting through some emotional dialogue)

Through some of the dialogue I skipped (wasn't originally planning on making a post about this), Kanako offers herself as a subject for her father's (Chujin's) work. Ceroba shows hesitation as it goes against her husband's wish but goes with it so she doesn't ruin his legacy. It made me feel bad for both characters. Kanako was just some dumb kid who didn't know what the hell she was asking for/expecting. She was just grieving her dying father and felt it was her fault for his demise. Ceroba was grieving too, and therefore couldn't think straight, but made the awful decision of giving into her daughter's demand of being injected with INTEGRITY.

2. Clovercide (TW!!!)

(Image also unrelated)

(TL;DR: Due to traumatic reasons, what was just a just sacrifice from Clover seemed like suicide to me.)

Just a heads up! I'll put a "keep reading" (if you wanna well, keep reading) under this because this may get a little personal...

This is still okay to reblog as long as you put the right warnings!

When I first saw the game in general, I though the screenshots I saw of the pacifist ending were the neutral ending. I though Clover got badly injured, or fell ill causing their end.

When I found out the wasn't the case, and watched a short clip (with no other context) of Clover giving up their life in the pacifist, I thought nothing of it. It was when I was listening to the soundtracks and saw how badly everyone was grieving Clover, then going back to places like tumblr talking about how they were just a kid that I started to get the wrong message.

I started to think Clover was probably miserable and indirectly asked for an assisted suicide by Ceroba and it broke me. Especially as someone who was suicidal/had dark thoughts as a kid. (I haven't felt like ending my own life for four years and have been clean for over one year) I've also had to endure the sob stories of mentally unstable people. This all tying back to the very few things I new about the pacifist ending, I felt kinda bad, sad and a little angry at Clover. This is what I would think:

WHY DID THEY DO THIS!!!???

SOME OTHER FUCKING DUMBASS KID COULD'VE TAKEN THEIR PLACE BUT NO!!! IT JUST HAD TO BE YOU, DIDN'T IT CLOVER!!!???

How miserable are you...?

Waiting for that fateful day where I could finally complete the game felt like preparing for a flu shot. I almost didn't want the game to end. I was so mad at the people saying "It was just a sacrifice", and shit.

...and as it turned out, they were kinda right. (still not giving them full credit) I didn't get the best screen shots cuz my computer crashed, but it was Clover going through all their memories in the underground, and realizing that they can't just hide away in the underground forever as a human. Monsters have been trapped for centuries and no matter how many of the monsters cared for them, they needed to do what was would've possibly happened from the start: give up their soul.

What I then got from the ending was that Clover felt to guilty to stay alive, and in the end, the wanted to do what's right. It's kinda getting sad again now that i think about it. Any who, this concludes my post. Enjoy the random screenshots at the bottom that I could fit into the post without it proving my point /hj. I'm currently debating whether or not I wanna go back and do the genocide route. Even though it's a fangame, I don't wanna fuck up the timeline.

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

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[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You’ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

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Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

[zahri-melitor]

Oh my god, Gotham Knights #26. I’m screaming, crying, throwing up.

Just this. This is so damn crunchy. It’s a reminder that the core of the post-Crisis Batfamily revolves around the dynamics and dance of tensions between Dick, Babs and Tim, and how each of them relate to Bruce.

Dick’s on the upswing of his relationship with Bruce, after the adoption and the two of them hammering a bunch of issues out.

Tim’s at a low point where he’s been frozen out and deliberately hurt. Bruce revealed his identity to Steph! Plus Alfred, who’s been staying with him to punish Bruce, had just announced he’s going back to the manor, leaving Tim even more alone.

Babs is in one of her “I’m here for the rest of you; Bruce is aggravating me by being high handed again” phases (admittedly that’s…her default position unlike the other two).

And wow does the way the three of them negotiate the debate over “did Bruce kill someone” just show off both their best and worst character traits (and also they’re all acting way more adult than Bruce, which isn’t a surprise, but what can you do).

Tim and Dick talk! Tim worries Dick is a jumper! They find out they have different opinions on Did Bruce Do It!

(I just want to EAT UP the implication that Tim is worried that Dick might be about to attempt suicide over the fact Bruce killed someone, especially just after the whole ‘killing Joker’ situation)

Dick is Extremely Offended Tim might think Bruce Did It. So what does he do? Go off to talk it through with Babs.

Babs gives Dick the reality check that Bruce has been in one of his push-everyone-away loner modes again and that Dick off in Blüdhaven isn’t having to face it personally, but Batman isn’t even patrolling with Robin right now. Also that Tim’s experiences with Bruce are necessarily different to Dick’s.

When suddenly… Tim arrives to ALSO thrash this conversation out with Babs (They are such mirrors of each other I swear).

Dick takes the opportunity to try and touch base with Tim and find common ground, leading to one of the best/most devastating pages of the Dick & Tim relationship at this point.

Dick is trying to make his baby brother feel safe. Dick would do anything for Tim. Tim however is all too aware of how hollow this promise is, as well meaning as the sentiment is, because they’ve lost people before. (And as I noted, Dick’s actually still in a GOOD cycle with Bruce while Tim really isn’t)

Which leads to THIS angst.

Tim believes in Dick. He can get by just trusting in the detective work he’s been taught and knowing that Dick holds to the Code (and we are LITERALLY only 3 months real time on since Last Laugh, Tim you have phenomenal levels of belief in Dick). Dick however, has that same level of trust in BRUCE, and so can’t cope with Tim not also feeling that way.

(And then Dick goes off to cry to Alfred because he also needed reassurance)

God I love all three of them so much it’s hard to describe. They’re so functional together even when they’re fighting as they all, at their core, trust each other implicitly.

(Alfred and Leslie have some very meaty conversations together and apart also in this, when Gotham Knights was on its game it was one of the best Bat books out there)

Finally: Babs is not having a great time here either, as she’s having to coordinate and run the investigation on Vesper Fairchild’s murder without any assistance from the primary suspect.

Working out some anger issues there, Babs? (Robin #99)

[sukirichi]

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly,  “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna​ @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo​ @evesmores​ @ambiguous-something​ @lilith412426​ @kakashiharusohma @aizawap​ | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[itsclydebitches]

Is it bad that I feel Penny’s 2nd permanent death has cheapened the stakes to me to such an extent I don’t care if the character’s life are in danger or even ended? Unless they die in a particularly gruesome manner…I don’t care. Penny’s death was cheap, tasteless, and I think sucked all the stakes to me.

I've personally had a problem with RWBY's death stakes ever since Weiss' injury in the Haven fight. Making that an episode cliffhanger when we all knew RT would never commit to killing one of the main four, using that as the means of unlocking Jaune's semblance, and then, importantly, never following up on how Weiss deals with a near-death experience felt quite cheap to me. It was a moment where death/grievous injury was used only for the week long shock value (similar to Oscar's disappearance in Volume 6) and a means of furthering Jaune's abilities rather than Weiss' emotional growth (particularly egregious in a show where 99% of the cast already has their semblances unlocked. Revealing them in a dramatic, life-or-death situation was never an expectation). The fact that it was such a departure from how the story treated Yang in the past — committing to her injury and allowing her time to come to terms with it — just made it all the worse.

However, though this was one moment out of one volume that fans might be willing to overlook for a variety of reasons, Volumes 7-8 just failed so spectacularly and so often that yeah, death has no real meaning in this show anymore.

Let's tally things up:

Clover dies in large part to Qrow's stupidity. This is never acknowledged.

Qrow instead swears vengeance against Ironwood. They never meet again.

Whether everyone agrees or not, this entire situation came too close to queerbaiting for some fans.

Clover's corpse/the environment is badly animated, leading to confusion about whether he actually died.

Oscar is shot off of Atlas in a move that would have been a killing blow if not for Ozpin's unexpected magic. He never works through this and likewise never even explains things to the rest of the group, adding to the secrets issue.

The councilman is randomly shot by Ironwood, signaling his fast-track towards villainy.

The Ace Ops and, more importantly, Winter all witness this, yet it has no impact on them remaining loyal until leaving him serves the plot.

Ironwood tearing the flesh off his arm to save everyone from Watts is treated as evidence of his lack of humanity and the prosthetic he gets carries is designed to highlight how Evil he is now.

Fria dies which has little emotional weight because we knew nothing about her. She was quite literally only a vessel for the powers and was treated as such by the story.

The Hound, introduced as an incredibly formidable foe, is done in by a badly developed power and a falling suit of armor. There's no interest in who that faunus was, only what this implies for Summer.

Hazel death is confusing af. He couldn't have burned to death that fast. Oscar's cane shouldn't have hurt him based on what else we see. Where's the body? All of this follows a split-second "redemption."

Vine sacrifices himself and no one cares because we knew nothing about him. Also it's kind of weird to frame his heroic suicide as, you know, heroic after a volume of telling Penny she can't do the same. It's just weird mixed messaging.

Rhodes was killed incredibly fast by his kid student and although I care a little about him, the general consensus is that this was a girlboss moment because flawed men trying to help are the worst, right? Far worse than a villain we established in Episode One.

Watts presumably burns to death off screen.

Ironwood presumably drowns off screen.

Jacques is blown up without any of his family knowing about it. He's blown up because Winter just... left Ironwood's gun-gun by the cell?

The community is still debating whether Maria and Pietro are alive. Was Amity still falling? Was there any way off? Why don't any of the characters worry about them, one of whom is Pietro's daughter?

Yang "dies" after a single hit and only Blake gets to react to that.

The rest of the group (plus Jaune) quickly follow, to the surprise of no one.

Penny is resurrected with little fanfare, is stripped of her cyborg nature, gears up to take on Cinder with Weiss and Jaune, is instantly taken out, and then convinces the healer of the group to kill her.

The Altas arc has so much death and grievous injury — clearly trying to be the next Volume 3 — and yet none of it has an (enjoyable) impact on me. Sometimes that's because RT is killing off side characters they never bothered to develop. Sometimes it's because the writing is so confusing idek if the character is dead. Sometimes it's because the circumstances induce anger rather than grief. Penny's second death definitely caused a reaction, but not the one RT was going for. I was frustrated with how badly constructed this suicide was, disappointed in how the circumstances leading up to this erased so much that's wonderful about Penny's character, and yeah, disgusted that we were right back to that Volume 5 Weiss scenario: here's the graphic death/almost death of one of the girls to forward his story. Only this time, instead of just getting a cauterized spear to the gut, RT thought assisted-suicide via sword was the way to go.

Penny's original death was heart wrenching. Pyrrha's was tragic due to how avoidable it was. Roman's was shocking and perfect for setting the new stakes. We didn't know if Ozpin survived, but back then that was the point — a mystery to reveal next volume — not because the scene was badly constructed, or the writing seemingly just forgot that characters existed. And again, flawed as it was in some respects, we got a story of Yang losing an arm and coming to terms with that. Now, we get the story of a man losing his arm and that makes him lose his intelligence and conscience too, I guess.

I'm trying to think of a post-Volume 3 death that hit home and I'm coming up short. But deaths like Sienna or Tock, while carrying their own problems, didn't really hint at the over-arching problem with character deaths the story now has. With the comparative wealth of fatalities we got in Volumes 7-8, I was finally able to step back and go, "Wow. Right...none of that did anything for me." And yeah, as one of the most shocking deaths, as a second death, and as one of the oldest and most beloved side characters, Penny encapsulates that best of all.

[dinosaurtsukki]

BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 2

part 2 of the university au hc’s !! i am obviously a slut for chuuya and fyodor so don’t mind me. i hope you guys like this !!

check out pt. 1 here

***********************************************

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke:

i love akutagawa ryuunosuke my angst child but i’m just like ‘hmmmmmmm’ when it comes to what his course would probably be

after extensive research aka reading his character page on wiki i feel like maybe he’d be a history major because,,,, he likes antiques?

well his clothes do seem very dark academia-esque and i can see him liking something as cool as history

akutagawa’s probably into something like war history but he’s not weird about it he just finds it really cool how different strategies work or analyzing what exactly makes the winners win

he absolutely HATES the fact that he keeps having to read the Iliad for class

he’s also that classmate who INTENSIVELY DEFENDS achilles for being a bit of a little bitch (but he fully agrees that patroclus and achilles were gay af ok this was random moving on)

akutagawa has practically no social life. he doesn’t go to parties, he doesn’t talk to his roommate, he doesn’t even like to eat in the dining hall

BUT he absolutely loves being in debate team because WINNING

he’s such a nightmare to work with though but he just delivers so well when it’s time for him to speak. like, if he’s on a negative and it’s time to hash out rebuttals, just prepare to get MURDERED

other debaters: “esteemed scholars and adjudicators...”

akutagawa: “you, sir, have no idea how wrong you are.”

that is until dazai decided to randomly show up at a debate tournament all ‘la di da da’ like and completely crushed akutagawa along with his ego

from then on he started stalking dazai and just SOMEHOW managed to end up in his circle of friends

even though he’s antisocial in real life, akutagawa 100% runs a dark academia aesthetic blog on tumblr i’m right and i don’t accept criticism

it’s actually really good he has a ton of followers and even does requests for moodboards if someone asks nicely

atsushi was the one who actually found out about it but he’s nice so he didn’t tell akutagawa about it

kunikida probably follows that blog

Chuuya Nakahara:

if this part sounds like i’m just thirsting for chuuya then you’re absolutely right i love wine man

don’t get mad at me but i can ABSOLUTELY SEE HIM MAJORING IN FASHION DESIGN I MEAN LOOK AT HIM

he’s just always had such a good eye for fashion and he’s veryyy meticulous when it comes to snipping and putting together clothes

chuuya also carries a sketchbook full of designs and his drawings look amazing and he isn’t afraid to just show them off

that said he doesn’t dress like a tired uni student at all, like he just always looks so on-point and unbothered by his five million deadlines

dazai: chuuya, i said this was a CASUAL LUNCH

chuuya, dressed in what looks like silk pajamas: THIS IS CASUAL

tbh if he just wore a white t-shirt and jeans i would die maybe he’s actually saving us from this ordeal

he has so much talent though as a designer he’s probably had several internships with design companies all throughout his years at uni

i feel like chuuya’s also really active in extracurriculars and has been in leadership positions in some of them (he probably runs the student org for fashion design)

chuuya in a student band though oh my gosh i can’t breathe i can’t breathe him as a VOCALIST?? and wearing torn jeans and eyeliner and that same hat in concerts ican’t brEATHE

okay in all honesty he would thrive being in a band chuuya loves the attention and the creativity of being able to design their whole look and write songs

tbh i don’t know if he’d have a roommate chuuya’s probably the type who’d rather have one of those single rooms or just rent a flat for him to stay in even after graduation

because his social life is super vibrant, he does have a lot of friends and he does make an effort to get to know all of them individually 

but he’s more open around those who he’s been friends with for a really long time and as much as he’d like to say dazai isn’t one of them, he is

also chuuya is definitely the type to party hard during the weekends and has more than once crashed in someone’s house after drinking too much (dazai drew on his face on more than one occasion)

Oda Sakunosuke:

i love this man SO MUCH you guys have no idea i would literally die for him

100% this guy majors in creative writing because this is supported by FACTS and not just me wanting to be coursemates with him in this fictional world

super serious and diligent with his work especially since he’s passionate about writing. he loves to read in his spare time and is such a fan of classic novels about social realism or philosophy

oda spends 99% of his time in second-hand bookshops that the owner probably knows him by name at this point

he’s super old school when it comes to writing though, like he still keeps and writes in a notebook before typing it up on a laptop and no matter how many times dazai tells him its impractical, oda just keeps doing it

lmao whenever workshops come around he’s super nice with his critique. i bet a lot of his fellow classmates like sending their writing drafts to him

he draws smiley faces and always adds ‘nice work’ on people’s drafts omg i love odasaku

he’s such an old soul, he probably doesn’t do a whole lot of partying but he likes more quiet, private social events like drinking with close friends or just hanging out and talking at other people’s houses

he and dazai probably met when dazai decided to take an intro to creative writing class and wrote a long poem about double suicide on his first day that kind of put off everyone in the class from wanting to sit with him

odasaku was the only one who wasn’t exactly bothered but he did give dazai some comments to help him with his poetry and dazai instantly wanted to be his friend

in terms of extracurricular life, i can definitely see odasaku joining a writing organization and even the campus newspaper. he does find joy in interviewing students for newspaper articles

he’s also pretty into photography and uses a really old, second-hand camera that he bought at an antique store and fixed himself. at one point he won a prize in a contest

odasaku would be the best roommate. he’s super sensitive to when you have a bad day and will invite you to sit on his bed and hug his pillow and talk about your problems

scratch that, everyone talks to odasaku about their problems and now your room is like a therapist’s office

Edgar Allan Poe:

i swear this was the only gif i could find other than actual edgar allan poe

ANOTHER CREATIVE WRITING BUDDY AHHH I WOULD LOVE TO BE BESTIES WITH HIM AHHH

well actually i feel like since he’s super ambitious and already has a fixed idea on the stuff he likes to write, he’d probably double major in something like forensic science because he’d use it to write his mystery novels

omg that’s where he meets ranpo and now pretty much every main character poe writes is slightly based on on ranpo

it’s a problem. his professor brings it up more than once during his classes but it’s poe’s Thing now

he also has such an unending passion for gothic literature and he wears those white, long-sleeved blouses and waistcoats on a REGULAR BASIS

chuuya probably saw him once and was like ‘hmm, i could pull that off’

poe’s daily route is just going to the library and to class and then go home and that’s about it

he ended up working as a student assistant at the library because he’s just super familiar with the book collections and it’s a job that’s peaceful and quiet 

more than once though, he’d just be really in-deep with his writing to the point that he doesn’t even notice that the library has closed or that he hasn’t eaten the entire day

that’s alright though because ranpo always passes by the library at night to check on his friend and (reluctantly) give him some snacks

also since poe’s pretty much a recluse, he doesn’t go to any social event UNLESS it’s a halloween-themed one

he loves going all out with his costumes because he’s a Drama Queen like that but the problem is he keeps dressing up as gothic novel characters and nobody gets it

dazai, trying to guess his costume: umm,, Two-Face from Batman?

poe: IT’S DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

there was this one time when poe took it upon himself to host the halloween party and it was EPIC

he basically designed it as a murder mystery night wherein everyone who came pretended to be guests at a house and then a murder happened

the only problem was that ranpo was conspiring with poe and it was pretty much unfair

except for the fact that ranpo was frustrated at how bad everyone was at deducing that he ended up solving the mystery for them

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

one of my favorite scenes of him in s3 was of fyodor playing the cello because god damn that is beautiful and therefore i am hc-ing him as a music major and you can’t tell me otherwise

fyodor is an absolute music genius and he was definitely scouted by the university’s music program and then he was granted a scholarship (because in this ideal university, the arts are valued)

he purposely decided to go to a university rather than a music conservatory because he’s also interested in learning a bunch of other things

aside from his music classes, he ventures into comparative literature and philosophy, even a bit of computer science at some point

people always assume that since he’s a music major he probably wouldn’t do well in other subjects but SURPRISE BITCH

anyway, fyodor’s a genius because god clearly has favorites

aside from attending class, he’s even part of an official orchestra and has even landed a few solos 

that said, he’s quite busy and very preoccupied in his own work to actually have a social life either

you’ll often find him rehearsing by himself in an empty classroom for hours and hours on end (someone pls bring him food he’s also the type to forget to eat or even drink water)

if you are able to catch him perform at an orchestra or just practice by himself, it’s quite a mesmerizing sight. his eyes are often closed so he could focus on the sound alone and his fingers move so elegantly along the neck of the cello

(sorry i just love people who play any form of stringed instrument)

fyodor also takes such good care of his cello. also he would probably kill you on the spot if you touched his bow

he has a fairly small group of friends and they like playing chess together (even though fyodor is better than all of them) and just talk about um,, idk philosophy and stuff (whatever it is smart people do idk i’m not one of them)

i have a feeling he actually follows akutagawa’s dark academia blog and loves his content, even to the point of requesting ‘cello player moodboards’

also because he’s a cello player he needs to take care of his fingers so he wears gloves a lot (idk why i find this hot)

***********************************************

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan

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Anagrams

Taeyong

Mafia!Taeyong x genderneutral!reader

“Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. I’ll stop. I’ll quit but please just stay. Please, I have to make this right”

Warnings: Blood, Cursing, Angst, Groping, mention of Strippers, Suicide and Murder, Death, Suggestive

Word Count: 6.7k

Note: Enjoyyyy

Oh this is just great, Y/n thought as you ran into your building, you stopped by the door, to compose yourself, you’re ten minutes late, its fine its doable

Calming your nerves down you enters the bar and slip into the bathroom, it was quite easy the sea of people being a great distraction, you enter a stall, there you stand still after finally counting to ten you make your way out and see your boss, perfect, you think and grin

“Sir,” You jogged and smiled “Sorry there was an emergency, I was in the bathroom and I,” you even made a show of making random hand movements to emphasize your point “I couldn’t hold it in, but that’s not the point, I’m here, where do you need me?”

Your boss just nods not bothering to question the younger “Just help the others serve the drinks, quickly Y/n” he reminds and you nod, leaving to assist their work mates in serving

Taking a couple of drinks far the bar, serving them around, sure you get groped and wolf whistled and yeah its disgusting to be around people like this but it pays well, you may not be a stripper but serving also has its perks

You didn’t know it at the time, but a man had notice your late arrival and your quick thinking of going into the bathroom, you didn’t know this but he kept close eye on you, he was intrigued by your quick thinking and how you handled the situation

The day was ending and so was your shift, happily serving the last couple of people, going through the sea of people yelping once a firm slap lands your butt

"Oh we got a firm one over here" the man snarls and you glare at the man, moving to walk away, only to be grabbed by the arm so you will collide to their chest

"Let me go," You warn and attempted to pull away from the man only for him to wrap his arms around your waist

"Why in such a hurry, pretty?" he asks and reaches out to cup your cheeks when you moved to step on his feet

"I said let me go" You said angry and walked away, this is exactly why being a server in a strip joint isn't exactly admirable either

"You bitch!" The man yelled and Y/n spun around and everything was in slow motion, you could see how the man had his fist raised ready to hit you only to be stopped by a man, gripping his wrist, tilting it upward and landing a punch on the man's face

His hair was dyed red, you could tell the black roots also dead give a way. his maroon suit being slightly messed up by his activity and he sighs and fixes them. He looked powerful, like the type to walk all over someone but that surely isn’t the case, right? 

"They made themselves clear," The newcomer reminds and glares at the man "You're disgusting" he notes and takes a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his hand, and looks at you with chilling eyes that made your skin crawl "Go"

You bow and moved to walk away

The second time you have met with your savior was a couple weeks later, It was a normal day, went to work, served customers, thought about your mysterious savior. For the past couple of days you couldn’t stop thinking about him, why had he helped you? 

You woke up from your thoughts once the bartender calls you over for a new batch for the gentlemen in table fifteen, taking the tray you walked to the assigned table only to be greeted by a familiar red hair, it was the man, and he was with his friends, they all looked close by the way they were able to laugh and joke around, you placed the drinks on their table and looked at the man only to see his eyes on you

“Um,” you bowed, making everyone on the table, stop talking and looked at the server who had bowed “Thank you for saving me” you said once you gotten a good look you realized how familiar he seemed but that was probably cause he saved you

The man smiles, his serious expression melting away and looks at her “Oh, i knew it was you, how are you? The man ever returned?”

“No” You shake your head “Thank you for that-”

“No need to bow,” He interrupts

You straighten “He hasn’t returned ever since you showed up”

“I’m glad” He smiles softly and waves everyone away and just like that they all returned to their conversations

“I really wanna thank you-”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to”

“I insist”

He chuckles and nods “Lets go get a drink then, on you”

You shake your head, “I can’t,” you said and lead him to the bar “I’m working, I can’t drink”

“It’s fine” he replies and waves the bartender down

If there was one thing you know about this bar, is that its absolutely hard to get the bartenders attention, you have to have pretty legs, breasts and eyes to get there attention or you’re someone important. You watched as the man ordered a drink for himself 

“I’ll take a Mojito,” he says and looks at you “What about you?”

You shake your head and smiled politely “No I’m good, I came here to get you your drink. I’m not supposed to be drinking”

He laughs “come on, It’ll be fine” He points to himself “I won’t say anything, “ he looks at the bartender “Will you say anything?” which he earned a shake of the head “See? come on”

You bit your lip, this really isn’t a good idea, but the again your boss will understand if you were drinking only because a customer wants to, right? You’d rather drink then get a complaint, again

“Um, a cosmopolitan” You replied after a while and the bartender nods moving to fulfil our orders

He smiles triumphantly and nods “You like sweets don’t you?”

“Why would you sat that?”

“A cosmopolitan? its sweet”

“I don’t judge you and your mint”

He laughs “You know I haven’t had anyone talk to me like that in years”

“Well, I don’t think want to, you kinda look scary”

“So you thought I was scary?”

“Still do,” You answered honestly “You just punched a man when we met and he went reeling, your friends on your table literally obeyed the moment you waved them off, The bartender-” you nod and smile at him as he places both of your drinks down “Thank you” You looked at the man across from you “The bartender doesn’t easily come when beckoned.” You noted and took a sip “You must be really important”

He blinks and takes a sip of his drink “You,” he tilts his head “Don’t know who I am?”

You shake your head “No, should I?”

He took another sip “No, I’m not really important” He replies and sees two people from his table nod towards the door and he subtly nods "Thanks for the drink we should do this again sometime"

You laugh "I don't even know your name"

He stops and looks at at you as if debating something, well in reality he was taken aback y your laugh, he loved it, something about it made him want to keep hearing it, and he’ll make sure to hear it again "When we meet again, I'll tell you" He winks and leaves you on by the bar

The man sat between two of his colleagues as they spoke and laughed together. The Red haired man not paying ay kind of attention to his friends as they spoke, he had his eyes everywhere as if searching for something

“You know Taeyong, we’re starting to worry about you” One spoke his bluish-black hair matching his dark blue blazer

“Worry?” He asked and that when the blonde boy by his left side spoke 

“Yes, Worry” Mark answers “You have been distracted lately, Hyung. You of all people can’t be distracted”

“I get that Mark” Taeyong nods and smiles at the younger and assured “and I’m not distracted, I’m interested”

Mark shrugs taking his drink and taking a sip 

“Kun,” Taeyong calls and looks at the blue haired man “You don’t think I’m distracted, right?” Kun just looks at him and Taeyong sighs “I’m not,I can still carry on our plans”

“We know you can Taeyong,” Kun assures and places his hand on Taeyong’s back “but if Mark and I think you are, you better bet other people might think so too. Becareful, ok?”

Taeyong opens his mouth to tell them both off when he hears a familiar laugh that made him swerve his head towards the sound, only to see you in your normal clothes. It may be a coincidence but your eyes met and he smiles softly

You didn’t know that he was there, you were finally done with your shift and ready to go home when you spot him and he beckons you over, slowly making your way towards him he grins “Heading home?”

You nod “You kind of missed me” you teased “looks like we’ll have to drink next time”

“So there is a next time?” He asks

You shrug “who knows?”

Taeyong moves forward from his seat a bit, extends his hand and offers it to you “Do you still wanna know?”

You stare at it and thought for a second on what he meant, before taking it and nodding “it might be nice to call you something else then My red haired saviour”

Taeyong could feel Mark and Kun look at each other from the corner of their eyes. Taeyong laughs “its,” he pauses and clears his throat “My name Agi Lyeton” 

You tilt your head “How unique” you replied and smiled

“I have unique parents”

“I can tell,” you said and shook his hand, pulling away “Nice to finally meet you Agi Lyeton, see you around”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“maybe next time” You winked and bowed before walking away

“Why did you lie?” Mark asks once you were gone “They probably know who you are”

“They don’t” Taeyong replies “and I intend to keep it that way”

“Its an anagram isn’t it?” Kun cuts in and Mark and Taeyong looks at him “the name you gave them?”

Taeyong nods and Mark grabs a tissue writing down the letters, when Taeyong confirmed “A-g-i L-y-e-t-o-n” he tilts his head “None of them spell Taeyong Hyung’s name”

“Sound the letters out not by spelling” Kun suggests and Taeyong watches as Mark gets to work

Just then Taeyong was reminded how much of an advantage he has thanks to these two, with Mark’s memory and Kun’s intelligence, he was thankful these two were on his side

“A G-e-e L-y-e T-o-n” Mark wrote once again and then nods “Oh, yeah, I see it now” he says and rearranges the letters “L-e-e T-a-e-y-o-n-g” he wrote and then grabbed his lighter to burn the notes on the tisue

“You should work on your anagram skills Mark” Taeyong says and Mark looks at him in shock

“Hey” He starts “I can think of 300 anagrams in one word, my skills are fine”

Kun chuckles and Taeyong nods “now, down to business?” he was greeted with a nod “Go on” he motions

Kun starts “The last shipment should be at WayV Headquarters by tomorrow afternoon”

“Why not today?” Taeyong asks and Mark takes his phone out to look at the texts

“Winwin and Hendery got a little sidetracked” Kun answers “but the delay shouldn’t affect our plans”

Taeyog nods and looks at Mark “All witness’ are being taken care of by Dream as we speak” Mark assures “No Witness, No Crime” he quotes

“Good” Taeyong nods approvingly, “then we will proceed as planned by the end of the month”

“Oh Hyung,” Mark calls “I’m gonna need to borrow Haechan”

“What for?”

“There’s something he and Jaemin need to crack so we can find the other witness

Taeyong takes his phone out to contact the boy without another word

You ang Lyeton met again after a day, you came to work and he was speaking to one of the servers, or atleast you think that was Lyeton

"Lyeton?"

"Hey" he greets and smiles

"You," you made a face

"what?" he tilts his head "is there something on my face?"

"Um your hair"

"Oh," he smiles "You like it?"

Like it? you asked yourself, you are absolutely baffled, he looks beautiful his now dyed black hair was eye-catching he looked beautiful that you didn’t realize that you had your hand out and ready to touch it

“So,” he starts “is that a yes?”

You nod “You’re too handsome it’s not fair” You pout

He laughs “you say that as if it’s legal to be you” he starts and fumbles with his words

“was that supposed to be a line?”

“depends did it work?”

“No?”

He frowns “then no it wasn’t a line”

You couldn’t help but laugh “you should work on it” you suggested “I’ll be more than happy to hear the finished product Lyeton” you teased

And he rolls his eyes “I would tease you back but I don’t know your name yet”

“yet?”

“Cause your considering” he grins

“Y/n!” your boss’s voice calls and you spun around “I’m not paying you to flirt with customers!” he stops once he sees Taeyong and Taeyong shakes his head at the man with a glare as if telling him to keep his mouth shut “Go get ready” he says voice softer and leaves

“I gotta go” you murmur and bowed apologetically

“When do you get off Y/n?” He says and stands up to grab you by the sleeve

“Why?”

“I wanna spend time with you, is all”

A smile leaves your lips “really?”

He nods “so,” he trails off “When do you get off?”

“eleven thirty” you answered and smiled “See you around”

You giggled once you arrived home, Lyeton waited for you and drove you home with the excuse that someone as pretty as you should not be going home alone. So you sat in the passenger’s seat of his Mercedes-Benz and you guys drove. The drive wasn’t awkward like you thought it would be, it was cozy and the way you both conversed was as if you two were old friends catching up and Lyeton eagerly and oh so obediently listened to everything you would discuss, anything you were willing to share, from what’s your favorite thing about the seasons to why you don’t eat beans

It was dumb, all of it, but he kept your words locked in a chest in his mind, he makes a metal note of everything, he remembers that you subconsciously pick your nails when your upset, or that you can’t eat chocolate with bread, or that you like salty and sweet foods, he doesn’t know why but he keeps the information about you close to his heart

Neither of you noticed or even cared but he was already parked outside of your home, you and him were still still talking, and neither of you realized how close you were until you could see the way his adam’s apple bobbed with his gulp

“Can,” he whispers softly “Can I kiss you?”

A blush covers your cheeks and you stared at him for a moment before nodding “Yeah” you whispered back looking down 

He reaches up and locks his fingers under your chin so he can take your lips in his. Softly moving your lips in sync with his, you couldn’t help but have your eyes close, his touch was soft and caring, giving you the option of pulling away but you didn’t, he was intoxicating, his scent and his taste. He moves to cup your cheek with one hand keeping you in place.

Slowly and reluctantly you pulled away, chests heaving as you both looked at each other “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” he promises “I’ll take you out to breakfast?”

You nod shyly and he smiles as you stand to leave his car, offering one last wave before you entered

That was how your relationship with Agi Lyeton began. You and him have dated for a little over a year now and going strong.

One time he took you out on a date to a spa cause quote on quote “You need to relax and take a breather, you need a spa day, Cranky”

He has oh-so-lovingly given you that nickname when you kicked him off the bed that one time he ate all your cookies, so he called you cranky and kicked him again and now that’s his term of endearment for you, along with beautiful and puppy, which he decided to call you after your love of dogs

The cake of the spa date was that he joined you, the massages, the facials, the body treatments, the manicures, he let you experience the shebang that day and you were thankful

Except he saw something, the thing you’ve been trying to hide from almost everyone in your life

“Are these self inflicted?” he asks after the massage, when you finally returned to your hotel, and takes your hand to see the scars on your wrist up until your forearm you bit your lip only to pull your arm away, pulling your sleeve down and looked down 

“It’s nothing Lyeton” you replied and moved to look at your wrist, you weren’t proud of it, these scars and sometimes you like to pretend they don’t exist, people don’t like the scars on a you

“You’re ruining yourself”

“a person is ugly with scars”

“You’re doing this for attention”

“I don’t understand why you would even cut yourself?”

Will Lyeton leave you after seeing the scars? Will he despise you? Will he- 

You woke up from your thoughts when you felt Lyeton hug you from behind “Don’t do that,” he whispers “Can I see?” he asks and hold your hand

You shake your head

“That’s fine,” he whispers again as he kisses your finger tips “Its ok, show me when you're ready ok?” he whispers again then kisses your palm “I’ll wait till then,” He kisses your covered wrist “Don’t feel pressured in showing me” he moves to up more, landing one affectionate kiss on your shoulder “I’ll still be here with or without your scars,” he assured and landed a small innocent kiss on your neck as a small sob leaves your lips

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered and he slowly pushes you down on the bed so that he is hovering over you, holding you close to his chest as he hugs and holds you close 

“Don’t be sorry, you’re absolutely perfect to me” he says and slowly leans in to kiss you, swallowing you sobs in the kiss, keeping you close and pouring out all his feelings into the kiss

Slowly he pulls away and cups your cheeks as you spoke, grabbing his sleeve so he’ll stay close “Please don’t stop”

He looks at you “Y/n-”

you shake your head “tell me,” you looked away “everything you find perfect about me” you whisper and he smiles 

“Do you really not want me to stop?”

You nod “don’t stop”

He nods and happily complies to your words, he kisses you again, whispering loving and sweet words against your lips and skin, leaving marks on your neck and chest as he tells you everything he finds perfect. You didn’t realize that both of your clothes were removed and scattered in the room ‘till he trails his kisses and sweet words lower and lower ‘till all you can think about was him, and how much he cares and notices every detail about you. 

You slept soundly that night, in his arms as he whispers praises and words of affection into your ear.

You woke up the next morning by yourself and fear ran through your veins. Where’s Lyeton?  Did he leave you? Was last night just a way to get his way with you? Was he faking it all those words?

You can feel the tears in your eyes when his voice tore through the open door “I need that meeting scheduled Jaehyun,” he sighs “I don’t care what you do or say, get me that meeting. And don’t bother calling me unless you’ve scheduled it, understand?”

He ends the call and takes a deep breath, before retiring inside the room only to see you awake and on the brink of crying, his breath catches in his throat, did you hear the convo? Did Y/n figure out he isn’t who he says he is? Is Y/n angry that he lied?

“I thought you left me” you whispered and Taeyong visibly relaxed before kissing your hair 

“Never,” he assures “I’m sorry, I had a call from work”

You nod “sorry,” you relied “I’m a bit emotional”

He laughs “It’s cute” he moves to go under the covers and cuddled you from there

You blushed and pulled away “No, wait I’m still sweaty and sticky from last night” you looked at him “and you’re all dressed and ready and clean, and I’m still naked”

He laughs and pulls you closer to his chest “I don’t mind getting all sweaty and sticky again” He grins 

“Lyeton!” 

He laughs again “How about I ready you a bath, you bath, then we cuddle?”

You nod 

“Can I shower with you then?”

You blushed and shook your head “Lyeton-”

He nods “I’m kidding, I’ll go ready you a bath” he says and stands kissing your temple and walking to the bathroom

After you’ve taken a bath, Lyeton was on the bed watching TV his eyes twinkled his eyes twinkled in delight “Come cuddle” he calls out and opens his arms in which you were more than happy to comply

“Where do you wanna go next?” He asks after a while

“What?” 

“Next week?”

You chuckle and pinched his cheeks “I can’t next week”

“Why not?”

“I have to go home,” You answered and moved to face him “you know,” you motioned “my brother’s death anniversary”

Taeyong nods, “sorry”

You smile “you didn’t know” You smile and kissed his cheek “It’s alright”

“Can I ask, how?”

You nod and lied down “Suicide” Taeyong looks at you “Its alright I know he’s happy now”

“You need any help? I can book you a flight-”

You laugh “It’s fine, I got it” You smile “Just wait for me when I get back ok?”

Arriving at your home town after a long time gave you a sense of nostalgia and pain, you remember everything you and your brother did

That sense of dread only worsened once you stood in front of your childhood home

You missed your parents, you did, but the thought of not hearing your brother’s laugh or voice. You didn’t realize it but your standing in front of your brothers grave

You just sat there, talking mindlessly to your brother’s tomb stone “Don’t orry about me, ok?” you spoke and smiled sadly “I’m doing great, I still work at the stripper bar-” you paused as if listening to his reply “as a server you perv” you said with disdain and you could practically hear him laugh, it only made your heart ache

You spoke more, imagining your brother beside you rather than his grave, and for a moment it seemed like he was beside you

”Ok, Ouch” He laughs and takes a deep breath “Are you ok? You’re not being used? mistreated?”

You shake your head, “I’m fine, actually I was groped at some point”

He blinks “What-”

“No no” you quickly spoke “It’s ok, someone saved me” He nods and looks at you, waiting for you to continue “He’s my boyfriend, and honestly, he’s so perfect”

He laughs “Nobody is perfect” He says and points at you “He could be a murderer or something”

“Stop” You laugh

He laughs as well then sighs “how long are you gonna keep this up?”

You looked at him “What?”

“I’ve been dead for three years, move on”

“Hansol-” you called once you noticed him start to fade 

“I’d rather you live your life” he murmurs “then blame yourself for the past”

You reached out to hold his hand only to wake up “Hansol!” you called and sobbed once you realize you fell asleep on his grave “I’m sorry” you whimper and hugged your knees

You and your parents have been avoiding your brother’s room ever since then, it was closed not locked, everything and anything that ever reminded any of you about Hansol was placed in a box and hidden in his room

You never thought about his death, you were too scared to, but here you were in front of his room cause maybe your brother was right, you had to move on and in order to do that, you have to enter his room.

You swallowed, entering his room, almost immediately you wanted to run away, it looked exactly like it did that day, except some of the boxes of his belongings by the corner. You could almost see his last minute with you, like a movie, you see him gathering his stuff and a younger version of you standing by the door way with a pout “You promised to play Uno with me, Hansol”

He laughs and looks at you, patting your head “When I get back, this is important, Taeyong is counting on me”

You huff and crossed my arms, making him smile “I promise, when I get back, lets play, ok?”

you nod “Promise?”

“Promise”

You sobbed and fell on your knees once, you remembered that painful memory “You promised you Jack ass” you cried “You fucking liar, you never came home” you think this was the first time in years you’ve ever mourned your brother’s death, you wished he was here and you hated the fact it took you so long, you hated him, you hated yourself

You sat on his bed after your breakdown, wrapped in his blanket as you looked through his stuff, spotting one of his old laptops you grin and taking it out of the box

There was a password and you sigh. You and your brother were close surely you could guess his password, right? so you started off with the basics, his name, his name spelled backwards, your dogs name, the dogs name spelled backwards, his girlfriend’s name, the girlfriend’s name spelled backward, his, mine, the dogs, his girlfriend’s birthday. You rolled your eyes ready to give up when you remembered, your brother is an idiot that forgets all of his passwords, you moved to the bedside table and looked for a notebook he could possibly have hidden there

You were right, there was a a notebook and, you opened it up, it has all his passwords, finding the one for the laptop you typed it out

NeoCultureTechnology

What the heck is that? You thought and pressed enter, his last opened app on it was photos, what could he have been looking at?

You blushed, it was pictures of you and his girlfriend, you smiled softly and sadly at the pictures he’s kept overtime, reminiscing every memory it holds, but there was one that made you freeze

It was a picture of your brother, he was smiling and you can tell he was happy, what concerned you was the man beside him, Lyeton, I mean it can’t be your Lyeton right? You looked at the other men you recognize them too, The blonde boy Lyeton was with when he gave you his name, he had black hair in the picture but it was definitely him, the last man was the blue haired boy, he had glasses and blonde hair here but it was him

It could just be a coincidence right? You looked through more pictures seeing other pictures of your brother with different men, with Lyeton, what is going on? 

You opened a new folder of pictures and you saw more of Lyeton, youre head is starting to spin, you’re really confused till you stopped a t a photo of Lyeton that had his name “Lee Taeyong”

Youre breathing was getting heavy as you continued to get more and more confused. Lee Taeyong, that’s a different name, it’s not your Agi Lyeton right?

You froze, “Agi Lyeton, Lee Taeyong” You grabbed paper and wrote it down “A-g-i L-y-e-t-o-n” Your heart was picking up speed, growing up one thing your brother loved doing was make codes and riddles while you grew up cracking them, It can’t be an anagram, right? writing down every anagram you could think of to Agi Lyeton “ Elating Yo” No “Gelatin Yo” No “Ligate Yon” No “Legato Yin” No “Agent Oily” No “Ale Toying” No “Lea Toying, Leant Yogi, Aloe Tying, Teal Yogin” No, No, No “Li Taeyong” you frowned, right Lyeton’s name is two letters off

You took a breath, thankful, so you were just being dramatic “Ok, better get some fresh air Y/n or yo might loose it to Li Taeyong” you slid off the bed only to stop mid way, saying it out loud “Li, Li, Lee” You stared at your paper bfore slowly starting to write it out “L-e-e T-a-e-y-o-n-g” No, you refuse to believe that and threw the paper away.

Moving to shut the laptop off you saw the email icon on the laptop have one unread message and it came from none other than Taeyong, it made your blood boil

Hansol,

Are you sure you wanna join us on this mission? you have a little sister man. Think about her. You might not come back, I don’t want your family to suffer

Mail me back, ok?

-Taeyong

You have been absolutely Distant and of course Taeyong has noticed that, you would pull away whenever you get, you must’ve been upset to see your brother, he understands, but why are you being so cold to him?

He tried, different ways, to make you smile but you only seemed more distant and sadder. You’re midnight cuddles always ends with you sobbing softly and whenever he would ask why you wouldn’t answer

One evening, a week later, he was at your place, like usual, taking a shower happily humming to himself, he left his clothes here for times like this so he can change and stay the night here

You sat on the sofa, picking on your nails as you do, the sound of the TV being drowned into the background as you stared at your boyfriend’s phone a notif rang and you wanted to see the notif but its wrong right? He trusted you that’s why he left it. But he was lying. The voice points out and you reached forward to wake the screen being greeted with a message from Jaehyun

Hyung, the meeting is scheduled

10 am [address inserted]

Ive already informed everyone and the plan is set we just need you to show up

Good Luck

You swallowed, God please let this all be fake and me overexaggerating, you begged to no one in particular ‘till you heard your bathroom door open

Taeyong walks in seeing you sitting on the sofa watching TV “you ok?”

You nod “Yeah”

The next day, he leans in “See you tonight for dinner?” You nodded and smiled a small tired smile, he leans in more to kiss you, you looked to the side making him kiss your cheek and he frowns “and then we talk? I need to know what’s wrong, ok?” You nod and watched him leave 

You stared at the printed pictures of Lyeton, Taeyong, er whatever his name really is, I can talk to him tonight, I don’t need to worry about this 

You looked at your phone to see the time nine forty-eight, you can ignore it right? just ignore

Hansol,

Are you sure you wanna join us on this mission? you have a little sister man. Think about her. You might not come back, I don’t want your family to suffer

Mail me back, ok?

-Taeyong

You blinked the tears away, you have to know, what happened to your brother, cause now you have a feeling it isn’t suicde

Going to the address you spot Taeyong, you take a deep shallow breath as you slowly walked up to him

He blinks once he sees you “Y/n?” he asks “What are you doing here?” he looks around and grabs your hand “Its dangerous here” he drags you to the side

“Please,” you begged and gripped his collars like a life line as tears pricked your eyes “Please tell me I’m making this up, that I’m delusional”

He hugged you despite the fear that was crawling through his veins, he knows this a dangerous place for you, but your stressed and you need him, work is important and getting this group on his side is important but all that flew out the window when he saw the tears at the corner of your eyes “What happened?” He asked voice soft and warm to help calm you

It worked. You felt better, his presence, his scent and his voice, you feel better. You wanted to lie, surely you weren’t willing to loose him in exchange if whatever knowledge you might gain. You’d rather be in the dark than loose him. Yet the nagging feeling at the back of your mind and the heaviness of your heart forces your mouth open and say “Please tell me you’re not Lee Taeyong” You begged “I cant- I refuse to believe it, I’m over thinking right? It’s just my imagination?”

He looks at you in shock. How did you know? Did somebody tell you? Did you figure it out on your own? He has to answer you, he needs to answer you, anything, you were begging him to lie, he is Lee Taeyong, lying shouldn’t be this hard. Not when your last thread of hope and the color drained from your face when you pulled away from him once he looks at you apologetically “Y/n-”

“Why?” you breathed wrapping your arms around your waist as you take a step a way “What-, When-” You closed your eyes and fresh tear fell your eyes “Why? Why would you lie?”

He looked at her “I’m sorry”

“Why!?” 

He flinches and bows his head “I didn’t want you to be scared of me,” he licks his lips “I can’t loose you, I didn’t want to see you in a world like this”

You stared at him as he spoke, your head was spinning and you wanted to throw up, your fingers picking on your nails and he reaches out to hold your hand to stop you from hurting yourself only to get pushed away “I trusted you, I gave you everything. Everything!” you sobbed “Were you ever going to tell me?” He looks away and your blood boils, you moved to hit him across the chest “You fucking ass! No?! Were you planning to hide this from me forever?!”

He grabs your hands to stop you “Y/n that hurts-”

“Good! You’re an ass! you deserve it!” you cried and kept trying to hit him

“I’m so sorry” He whispers and hugs you only for you to cry more and attempt to pull away from him “I’m so sorry”

“Let me go!” You yelled and pushed him away again “let me go, justlet me go, please, just let go” you whispered and stopped moving “Let me go Taeyong”

He looks up to stop the tears and slowly pulled away “Please”

You shake your head, gathering every ounce of energy on your body to ask “was Hansol part of your group?”

Taeyong’s eyes widened “You’re Hansol’s sister?” He took a breath and took a step back “I-I didn’t know... What have I done- Y/n”

“Is he?” you asked and looked at him, Please say no, Please, Not my brother too, Please, Please, Please, Please

“I’m so sorry” He says again and just like that you felt your whole world shatter, your knees were weak and heavy when Taeyong tensed “Y/n you have to leave”

“What-” You asked but you felt his hands holding yours tightly

“Please, I’ll tell you when I’m finished here, but it isn’t safe with you here. You can still blend in with other people”

“No, I’m not yet done-”

“Y/n, I’ll tell you everything and anything you want but you need to go home-”

“No, you’re not making me leave! I have the right to ask you this, you lied, my brother lied! I want answe-”

Taeyong never saw it coming, he hated himself cause of it. A sniper from across the building aiming to hit, to kill Lee Taeyong did a fucking sloppy job, cause it did nothing but graze Lee Taeyong by the waist, making him hiss and turn to see where it came from, he held his hand on his waist

His men came out from where they were hiding to cover their leader, protecting him from any possible gunshots “Suspect is on the move,” Jeno calls and runs ahead “Yuta hyung, Winwin Hyung” he calls the men nearer to him and they run in pursuit, Taeyong spat orders to his men, making sure that all of them understand only to freeze when he hears a small ragged and desperate breath

“Lyeton?” You call desperately, tears pricking your eyes, the pain was unbearable, your hand  pressed against your stomach right under you left rib, desperately trying to stop the bleeding 

Taeyong kneels in front of your body, as he places pressure on your wound “Fuck” he exclaims and takes off his belt to help him in applying pressure, you’re vision started blurring but you were unsure if it was the tears or the pain “Y/n,” he breathed and tightened the belt “ hold on, ok? You’ll be ok, I promise you’ll be ok”

You clenched your teeth, your breathing ragged ad heavy as he glares at his men “What are you all staring at? get them help! If they die, you’ll pay with your life”, you choked out a sob both at the fear of dying and the fear at Taeyong’s words, he shushes you and cups your cheeks 

“Deep breaths with me my love,” he assures and smiles a pained yet hopeful smile “Please? Take deep breaths with me?” he took slow deep breaths and you tried to follow along only to cry out more, it hurts everything hurts. You wanted it to end, you wanted to finally close your eyes and take a short nap, but Taeyong begged once he notices your droopy heavy eye lids

“No, No, please, don’t close your eyes, don’t ok? keep them open, listen to my voice, I’ll tell you stories, I’ll tell you what happened to Hansol” He says and ushers you awake, you tried to fight the drowsiness and listen, you really did, “Like that, keep them open and deep breaths ok” You only cried more once you felt the pain and he cries along with you, begging  “Please don’t leave me.” He starts and holds your hand “I’ll do anything. I’ll stop. I’ll quit but please just stay. Please, I have to make this right” he pleaded “Please!  I’ll quit NCT I’ll stay with you, just stay with me. Y/n, Y/n!”

You breathing was becoming shorter by the minute and the only one left was you, Taeyong and two of his men who looked away as tears pricked their eyes. You were mad at Taeyong, but what was the point, he’s here now and he’s crying and pleading for you to fight, but you were tired and you couldn;t even think straight. You wanted the pain to stop. 

Taeyong watched in horror as your short breaths ceased and he hold on to you tighter “Y/n?! Y/n No! No! Don’t leave me Please! Wake Up, Don’t Give in!” He moves to cup your cheeks to kiss your lifeless lips as a way to rouse you from your sleep like normal days when he’d wake you from your sleep and he finally broke down “I love you” He said in-between breaths “I love you so much, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Hyung, Jeno said they got the sniper” Mark whispers

“Everyone else has the gang under custody” Kun adds aswell

“We have to go” Mark says

“I’m not leaving them here”

“You have to Tae,” Kun says softly “You know we do”

[kitkatopinions]

I’m probably over thinking/over complicating things but Ironwood and Penny have been really bothering me. It because prior to the moment that destroyed Penny’s arc the show and Ruby were really pushing that Penny not matter her body was human and that’s a very positive I like that especially when it comes to characters of Penny’s nature.

So my problem kicks in when I think of Ironwood. Namely this part in his song:

“What if it's true as they say

That I don't have a heart

That I'm more a machine than a man?”

Like wtf. I mean I “get it” especially with that dumbass line of Winter. But when it’s talked about Ironwood it was always in reference to the fact that his body is half robotic and there for we are meant to see the correlation between his body and his character.?

Put next to Penny’s message that really bothers me. Even more so since Penny gets a “reward” of becoming human, but the writers push that Ironwood sacrificing his arm to stop Watts and replacing it (a medical decision that could be debated given that he wanted to be up and able immediately to handle things not to mention that fact that nerves and muscle are severely fucked up) with a new (uncharacteristically uncovered) prosthetic means that he’s moving away from humanity. This thought has been driving nuts for a week.

I don’t think you’re overthinking at all. The writers have been pretty blatant about what they think of disabled people.

On the topic of James, 1. They wrote their triple amputee character to be coded as losing his humanity. This is suspect from the get go, but writers imo need to be especially careful and sensitive when they display things like villains with prosthetics. CRWBY is not careful and sensitive. 2. They specifically connected the loss of his limb to the loss of his humanity outside of the show, and as you said, his new prosthetic is uncharacteristically uncovered as well, and there were some pointed shots showcasing his arm and emphasizing it before showing Ironwood doing something wrong as well as a shot that particularly bothered me of them having James fall to Winter when his aura broke and then them immediately flashing to a fallen, broken robotic soldier. Tying the loss of someone’s humanity to them losing a limb / gaining a prosthetic in any way is wrong imo. There are better ways to display someone’s loss of humanity than villainizing the loss of his arm, and I don’t care what justifications people have for ‘they just meant to say that he was too impatient to-’ Idc. Tying the loss of humanity to the gaining of a prosthetic is wrong. 3. They never once treated Ironwood’s clear PTSD, history of mental health problems, and trauma with any sympathy, instead spending their time ragging on him for not wanting to feel his pain anymore and condemning him for... Trying to control his emotions. 4. CRWBY also gave him a semblance and explained how it worked by saying he hyper focused, talking about how James’ passive semblance that he can’t control forces him to focus on one single goal and fixate. I’m not disabled, but I do hyper fixate. It’s not something I can control, and to see it used as a justification for evil (in one of my favorite characters in the series who reminded me of my father lol) and being treated as something bad... It doesn’t feel good. I can’t imagine how other people must feel who are much more affected by this than I am. 5. As you say, the writers go out of their way to reference his metal body as being more ‘machine than man’ and make lines about him being heartless. And yeah, I get that he’s an allegory for the ‘Tin Man’ from Wizard of Oz but ffs the Tin Man had always had a heart and I honestly thought that was what they were going for in V3 with Qrow commenting that sometimes he thought James didn’t have a heart and the audience seeing Ironwood’s actions as questionable, only for the entire show to tell us repeatedly that he actually is a caring and good person who’s willing to destroy all the forces he was proud to show off if it means saving lives and was actually pretty freaking blameless in the Fall of Beacon and was super kind to the kids and when the chips were down, Qrow and Glynda both absolutely knew without even questioning that James would never ever willingly hurt the world or fully betray them and had absolutely no hand in the Beacon attack. Like, I’m sorry, but between Penny and Ironwood, season eight is the season of taking well done character allusions and throwing them out the window for the exact opposite moral done incredibly poorly. And anyway, getting off of that rant, making a ‘more machine than man’ sentiment tied around a triple amputee character is incredibly harmful and hurtful to people with disabilities and only propagates the real world stereotypes against people like James.

So, yes, their treatment of Ironwood, his mental health, and specifically his disabilities was so badly done, harmful, incredibly insensitive, and frankly, appalling that it came from grown adult writers in 2019-2021! But, as you point out, it’s not just Ironwood. And here’s where things really get bad for CRWBY. Because Ironwood alone is enough for me to say they were ableist - unintentionally or otherwise - and ought to apologize for the hurt they’ve caused their fans. But when you get into the rest of their treatment of characters with metal prosthetics or non-flesh elements to their body, it becomes a pattern.

Penny’s entire body is removed from her on threat of death, with the justification that it’s hurting her and that her body is just a machine and not part of who she is, contradicting Penny’s earlier themes of self-acceptance and validating her humanity in the body she already had. She then dies by assisted suicide in a way that feels unneeded, after having asked to be killed earlier in the narrative. So many people have talked about how destructive her story became in V8 and how it personally hurt them, especially non-binary people, trans people, autistic people, or disabled people who saw themselves in Penny or saw in her arc something that they could relate to, only to have Penny’s differences stripped away from her, having her conform to normal body standards and have her previous body type invalidated by her friends, and then they had her killed via assisted suicide in an unbelievable way, insisting as well that she never made a choice before she was a flesh-person and couldn’t feel things right. It’s all horribly done, but it’s important to remember that while Ironwood is accused of losing his humanity as he loses a third limb and gets a third prosthetic, Penny’s earlier validation is taken away and is instead only granted and she is only justified as a person when she loses all her ‘nuts and bolts’ and becomes a flesh person. And then she’s killed anyway.

Yang’s prosthetic is the least ill handled, but it is still dismissed as ‘just extra’ despite her former fairly strong arc of coming to terms with her disability and making it a part of her. She casually justifies what’s happening with Penny despite Penny not being in a position of adequate consent. Yang’s trauma and PTSD also vanished when Adam died at the end of season six and in my opinion, that situation was handled very badly.

Maria and Pietro, two other disabled characters, disappeared, left when Amity fell and were not even mentioned iirc since. Not even when Penny is awake, not even when they’re evacuating, not even when Penny is choosing to die. She never brings up her father. And Ruby’s supposed ‘mentor’ who never had an actual narrative role that couldn’t have been filled by Qrow and has had nothing to do since season six even past that is also forgotten out in the tundra and not mentioned again.

The writers go out of their way to have Winter say that because she was just following orders (a statement that contradicts her previous character imo) and pushing down her emotions, she was the real machine, whereas Penny had been human underneath her apparently easily tossed aside and destructive previous metal body.  And I don’t know if this means anything, but in that scene where she and Penny meet when Penny is dying and transferring the maiden powers to Winter, Winter is in her V7 character design, instead of wearing her assistive brace. Like I said, I don’t know if I’m reading into that, but with everything else, it feels like an iffy choice.

So yeah. In the past season CRWBY specifically cultivated a pattern of disrespect, dismissal, and villainization of any non-flesh attributes in my opinion. It seems pretty intentional and clear to me, but I’m willing to accept that maybe this was just a wildly bad uneducated mistake. Here’s the thing about that, though, after the Faunus/Racism allegory, the CRWBY writers should’ve learned their lesson and not touched on any real world topics that they weren’t willing to do the research on and treat with the sensitivity and care and respect the topics needed. Their Faunus/Racism allegory was harmful and hurtful and frankly could’ve sunk them in the water, they should’ve learned to put much more care and effort into their work or stayed the hell away from anything that could further spread the negative stereotypes surrounding real world people. But they didn’t learn their lesson and they’ve continued to push harmful narratives with no awareness or sensitivity. I don’t think you’re over-reacting at all, I think this is something that - intentionally written or otherwise - the writers should be called out on, or they’re just going to continue writing harmful narratives.

Also, I am not disabled, many of my opinions on the treatment of these characters comes from posts I’ve seen from many disabled or neurodivergent RWBY fans (or former RWBY fans,) or other people more affected by these narratives - minus the thing I said about Winter appearing without her brace when she talks to Penny, as it was something I just noticed while typing out this post. Since I’m not disabled, I’m not the best person to talk about these things, so if I got anything wrong in this, anyone more affected, please know you can let me know and I can edit and fix.

[ash-rabbit]

An Autopsy: Mag200 Last Words

I will preface this by saying that, one (1) this is my opinion, and that I am at best ambivalent towards Martin and Jmart. And that this influenced the emotional impact of the episode for me, and likely many other viewers.

Additionally, I don't have a transcript open so we're going off memory. And spoilers below, obviously.

I. Everything that I wanted to see

1. Jonah

I'm very glad he showed back up and was coherent. That was definitely a highlight since bastard he may be, but he's my favourite.

I would have liked to hear him monologue or give a statement, but I don't mind Jon cutting things short. It's deserved, and I'm sure Jon was sick to death of Magnus' voice anyway.

I really liked how his last words were so very scared and vulnerable. "I don't want to die." and then Jon's retort of "Neither did they" before going through with it was excellent.

Being the vessel for the eye being like a wonderful dream was also very good, because I can only imagine that it would be similar to Jon's nightmare walking for someone who actually enjoys the suffering of others.

Something that was odd was that I could swear that it contradicts 193, where Jonah was referred to as nothing but a husk when serving as the eyes conduit. I had thought that meant his sense of self had been eradicated and he was nothing but his eyes for all intents and purposes. Clearly not. So I suppose all those fics where Elias survives and is aware of everything after Jonah gets gouged out of his skull are still plausible, seeing as Jonah still remained, even after being crushed beneath the weight of his eldritch patron.

2. Jon doing his own thing

I said this after 198 and 199, but I though the Web's plan was dumb, and everyone completely misunderstood the Trolley Problem, because just like the average Tumblr user, the Archival assistants are illiterate. But I suppose that happens when you have two influencers, a cop, and a high school drop out debate ethics. I'm just saying Tim with his anthropology degree would have called bullshit on their moralizing, he might not have disagreed with that plan of action, but he wouldn't have tried to justify it.

3. Jon going through with the 193 plan

Technically a merger of point 1 and 2, but it had Jon having a completely decent plan for once. It worked for the most part, it was cathartic and wholly satisfying to watch for him as a character.

As stated in 193 the conduit position is meant for him, so he doesn't suffer any ill effects outside of becoming a bird in a gilded cage, but he already spent the series as that. And it wasn't as if Jon hadn't been acting as a conduit with the constant statement taking anyway.

3.b a late addition to this but why does Jon need to keep taking statements?? It feels entirely superfluous in a fear saturated landscape, unless it was the Eye really wanting that Archivist pupil.

II. What Didn't Hit, or the Deflated Souffle

1. Jon and Martin

Hinging the emotional weight of a finale on a couple doesn't work if you don't have any feelings invested in the couple. I didn't care for Martin from the moment we were introduced to him in Season 1, and my interest to become invested in Martin was ignited and subsequently extinguished within Season 4. I find Martin hypocritical and self righteous and it's a bad mix for me personally. I didn't like his character trajectory over Season 5, so Jmart did nothing for me across the Season.

The misquote of LotR also just doesn't do it for me. It's sort of romanticizing the whole Romeo + Juliet thing, which is always not good. I think being unable to live for Jon undercuts any growth Martin could have gone through since in season 4 he was running a suicide gambit, and I think if he had been able to live as a person at the end of it, he would have come out a stronger character.

2. The Knife in the Gut

So Jon went through with his actually good plan, and Martin acts like its the worst possible thing. Jon is mostly himself, more himself then across Season 5 for the most part actually. But it's treated like the worst betrayal, and then Martin has the gall to go "we expected this so we're burning the Archives at this very second"

Like okay?? You're mad he went behind his back, even though everything previously stated had your plan set up to fail from the get go. It just made me irritated at Martin for being short sighted.

Worse then that was how quickly Jon caved to Martin and saying fine kill me and go through with your plan. And then Martin did it. They condemned countless dimensions because when Martin show sup and say anything contrary to Jon, Jon's spine disappears. It defeated the purpose of Jon going behind their backs in the first place. Though I'm glad Martin wasn't there when Jon spoke to Jonah.

I think the damnation of countless realities should have been framed as a tragedy, and not as the heroic thing. So I guess it's just fridge horror now. The framing just, it really doesn't work for me here, I was horrified by the moral ramifications and how it's the one thing Jon didn't want to do, to have more people face the same horrors he had.

3. The Archives are Burning: One of the Best Paying Academic Institute's is in flames.

So Jon was called the Archive by Jonah, and it never felt like that meant anything. We don't know if the burning Archive affecting Jon was because he's the Archive or if it's because burning knowledge hurts him as burning Gerry's page did.

Also I'm just against the burning of centuries of knowledge in general, that was probably the part of the episode that hurt. Cursed or not, the Magnus Institute seems to have incredibly pay for a research institute of all things, I mean a flat in London and it can pay for a care home? I know biology researchers who make around minimum wage at best. I'm just saying, I would work there despite everything the series has laid out.

4. The Girls Started a Fire

I don't mind that they survived, but they blew up a gasline?? And survived, no Helen to save them, but they survived.

It's weird.

5. Back to Business as Usual

So they ejected all the fears into other universes and everything is back to normal. But I have questions!! How are people's state of mind?? Are some people catatonic from constantly experiencing constant fear? The Admiral is fine which is great but, there's so much mental scarring that even with a fix it band aid slapped on, the whole population is mentally fractured at best. I don't have the words to elucidate, but it bothers me.

In Sum

The finale didn't hurt me. Which in and of itself hurts. I signed up for a tragedy/horror, and it felt like the romance shift undercut a lot of character growth and impact. But that's because I don't like who Jon and Martin are when they're together, and that's a normal thing to fell around new/codependent couples.

I was hoping for something that was soul crushing for the characters, but death isn't really the worst fate, and I suppose it's grim if only because they made the selfish choice. Which is weird, for Jon at least, he stopped making selfish choices after Season 2 for the most part and was punished every time he did something that was necessary for his continued survival in Season 4. I have thoughts on the statement dependency being a food thing more then an addiction thing but I'm ending it here.

The series is good, but I'll probably just relisten to S1-4 only, I don't care for romance or apocalypse settings, and 160 is a good stopping point if you want a soft tragedy of sorts.

[simptasia]

neurodivergence in abc’s lost

i’m gonna be listing off and talking about the canon neurodivergent characters in lost. i won’t be adding characters that i personally headcanon as neurodivergent in some way, what i’m writing here is elaboration upon what has been given to me by the show. please note that none of these people’s conditions or disorders were named in the show, so such diagnoses being named here are me taking that extra step based upon their symptoms

first of all i wanna point out that based on what i’ve seen the show, that the island’s healing powers applies to conditions inflicted upon the mind, not ones inherent to the mind. thats why daniel’s brain damage heals, but people like hurley and locke will always continue to have depression

hugo “hurley” reyes

schizophrenia and depression

our most prominently featured mentally ill character. it might seem bold to label him with schizophrenia when it’s never said that that’s what he has. but during his time on lost, he displays many of the symptoms: paranoia, pathological self loathing, delusions and hallucinations. now, it’s a fictionalized depiction of schizophrenia and that’s probably not even what the writers had in mind but it’s none the less a really, really good and respectful portrayal of it

it would take too long to list off all the times when hurley displays paranoia (heck, it’s easy not to notice how much its a part of his character) and self loathing. delusions? the situations regarding the numbers and his bad luck (canon never ever Proves what hurley believes to be true regarding that stuff)

they did an episode dedicated to hurley having hallucinations. a man named dave who drives him to self destructive behaviour, self hatred and attempted suicide. fun fact: when people with schizophrenia in real life have hallucinations, they tend towards just auditory. hurley gets visual as well as per Rule Of Drama. this is not a bad thing, just a narrative tool

(steering slightly into headcanon for a bit here but i personally ignore the dharma made Hurley Bird they revealed in the epilogue and just take hurley hearing that bird say his name as an auditory hallucination. for two reasons: one, hurley hearing/seeing things that don’t exist is already consistent with his mental state. and two, that bird literally, genuinely did not fucking say hurley)

extra notes

to be clear, in case there's confusion, hurley really does have magical powers. he can talk to dead people. that isn’t a delusion or hallucination. you can understand how confusing and distressing this must be for hurley

he's had a compulsive eating disorder since he was ten due to the pain of his father abandoning him. his struggle with this is well documented

at several points during the show he’s shown to have trouble spelling. he especially confuses his “y(s)” and “ies”. it’s not clear if this is due to poor education or a learning issue. or both, really. it’s safe to assume with him being poor, mexican and mentally ill, that school wasn’t easy for hurley

hurley has unjustifiably lived at mental health institutions on at least two occasions (the first time was against his will, second was volunteer)

john locke

depression

locke suffers from severe self esteem issues, and i know most lost characters do, but i mean to the point of irrational and destructive behaviour. he has an obsession with being deemed special in order to justify his existence. he also suffers jarring mood swings. (he can switch from calm and jovial to angry and defensive at the drop of a hat). when he was wheelchair bound, this threw him into a depression. when he failed to convince anybody to come back to the island, he attempted suicide. he would have gone thru with it too. he will go to extremes to make sure things stay the way he wants them to (killing an innocent woman so they can stay on the island, tying up and drugging boone so he won’t tell anybody about the hatch), and will fall into despair if he fails

also note that the things im saying about locke are not a comment on people with depression. i don’t think all depressed people kill and drug people. those were statements on locke’s character that i believe are a part of his mental state. my point is: he’s emotionally unstable and he tried to kill himself. and i think his extreme need for validation (from people and the universe in general) is especially concerning

to me, this all says to me that locke has clinical depression

locke isn’t as easy as the other people on this list to classify as Canon Neurodivergent but at least to me, i think it’s very obvious. like i feel bad being so vague but like, basically, watch any locke episode

daniel faraday

acquired brain damage, severe memory degradation as well as other neurodivergent behaviours (i’ll go into it)

he’s played by jeremy davies. enough said

okay, jokes aside. at some point in the past daniel and his assistant theresa were involved in some vaguely referred to time based experiments. while she was catatonicized, the accident left daniel severely brain damaged (also daniel spent years doing radioactive experiments without head protection, which would not have helped and indeed that is foreshadowing of this whole debacle)

apparently this left him in a state where he can no longer take care of himself, having been assigned a carer. his most outstanding symptom is that his ability to process short AND long term memory has been impaired

short term: he’s shown to have issues retaining memories from day to day. he wasn’t sure if he had met charles widmore already (he hadn’t). charles lays some exposition on him and when daniel asks why he’s telling him this, charles says, with sureness, that “because by tomorrow you won’t remember this”. counting on that to be an absolute fact seems silly to me but that does seem to the case. again, Rule Of Drama is in play here

long term: he can no longer access memories he formed many years ago, famously the memories he formed with desmond in 1996. all in all, this condition is highly plot convenient. can’t argue with results, really

no, i can keep going, i got more, this is daniel fucking faraday we’re talking about: his ability to remember 3 playing cards has been impaired (note that this is a skill most 4 year olds master), he forgot the secret code the science team were all taught and when he introduces himself to jack there is a long pause, in hindsight implying that daniel forgot his own name

like real life memory conditions, theres varying level to how much he does and doesn’t remember. he’s thankfully not in a 50 first dates situation and doesn’t forget everything day to day. clearly he remembers people if they’re around enough, like during his time on the boat. charlotte, miles, frank, naomi...

upon landing on the island, his memory slowly gets better (considering his condition beforehand, the fact that nobody comments on this is staggering)

when dan is fully healed? i could not say, i could theorize, but such things are nebulous. but still, the times we see dan without his brain damage, he still behaves like a neurodivergent person. just not like he was when he was brain damaged. he stims near constantly, has a tendency to repeat names and words (echolalia) and it’s shown that dan compulsively counts in his head. he counted up to 864 beats, if i remember correctly, which is about 10 minutes of counting in his head. by no stretch of the imagination is that neurotypical behaviour

(im not trying to sound defensive. and i don’t think anybody, anywhere, is arguing that daniel faraday is a neurotypical. unfathomable)

going into headcanon territory again, his ND traits, when not brain damaged, say to me that he’s autistic and/or has OCD and possibly anxiety. thats all theorizing on my part tho. but the fact of the matter is, damage or no, he’s neurodivergent

notes

his apparent need for tactile sensory input is legendary in the lost fandom. in layman’s terms: him pet pet. not just people but objects too. humans, overall, tend to touch things to process input better. many ND people do it more, and it seems daniel is a case of that (i am not making a solid statement on jeremy davies’ neuro state. that’s his business)

he shows an inability to properly process grief

he also shows shocking indifference to his own safety, resulting in reckless behaviour. how much of this is a result of his mental state or his upbringing is up for debate. i think it’s a combo of both

without his brain damage, he appears to have an eidetic memory

danielle rousseau

trauma induced mental illness

pretty self explanatory. the loss of her expedition, husband and daughter, as well as 16 years of loneliness (on THIS island) has resulted in emotional instability for danielle. she’s prone to paranoia, trust issues, irrational behaviour

she’s just not well. she’s right most of the time but she’s not well

libby smith

indeterminate mental state 

libby was institutionalized (the same place hurley was sent to) and placed on medication (which seemed like sedatives to me, based on her expressions). in the show it’s not what clear what put her there, but having just done some research, i’ve discovered that Word Of God says that libby became mentally unstable after the death of her husband dave smith. so this is probably another case of trauma induced mental illness. she must have had a pretty extreme episode to cause her to be sent to a place like that. something to think about

but alas, it’s libby, so not much info. moving on

benjamin linus

anti social behaviour disorder (is my best guess)

oof. depictions of mental illness with characters who are immoral are depictions of mental illness nonetheless. i feel almost silly saying this but: ben is not... okay

ben displays issues (at best) with empathy, compassion and morality. how much he cares about other people is highly debatable but one thing that's certain is that he does genuinely love his daughter. everybody else is ????

but the loving alex thing rules out him being a sociopath or having narcissistic personality disorder. and it is genuine because when he loses it with grief, it’s not a performance, because the only audience is us...

he’s a compulsive liar, lying even when it doesn’t benefit him. lying just because. ben is highly unpredictable, which isn’t inherently a neurodivergent thing, but when a person goes from a calm discussion to strangling somebody, all roads point to Uh Oh (i don’t know the technical terms for Uh Oh). many of his outward emotions are performed (the difference between his fake smiles and few real smiles is noticeable). he’s manipulative, he treats people like objects for his benefit/plans, he’s self absorbed, he has zero issues with murder unless it’s a child. he does have some moral standards. but overall, uh, [just gestures at ben]

also ben is repeatedly offended when other people don’t trust him, which is HILARIOUS, but also shows a cognitive dissonance on his part

hmm i need more here, im gonna break out the big guns

that’s some basic info there and doesn’t that line up with ben?

the article goes on to say that people with this can put on superficial charm. that is, behave friendly and “normal” when they have to. which ben is shown to be able to do

and this

“Serious problems with interpersonal relationships are often seen in those with the disorder. Attachments and emotional bonds are weak, and interpersonal relationships often revolve around the manipulation, exploitation, and abuse of others.”

reminds me of his situation with juliet. and locke. and his “friendships” in general

i snipped the wikipedia article for this because unlike the rest i felt,,, underequipped to talk about this sort of thing

ben being mentally unwell is clear enough in canon and i think this disorder is what lines up best with it. please note that ben is capable of change and growth (like people in real life who have such issues) and like the show i’m not gonna paint him 100% evil or irredeemable. i’m just saying what’s true

notes

ben says at one point that he doesn’t dream anymore. it’s highly probably that this is a lie, but if it isn’t, well that's not good. it’d mean his brain isn’t entering into REM sleep properly, which can lead to emotional problems

ben doesn’t blink as much as most people do, something michael emerson did on purpose. this can apply to some neurodivergent people

it’s shown that he was quite nonverbal as a kid. in the flashbacks in “man behind the curtain” little ben barely speaks

honourable mentions

pretty much all the survivors suffer from PTSD due the trauma of the crash

a great deal of the characters suffer from PTSD from trauma in general due to their awful lifes. like, abusive parents, war, loss of loved ones, etc

and i must note that ben, daniel and locke suffering from parental abuse, ranging from emotional to physical, is something to factor into their cases

claire, similar to danielle, also suffered trauma induced mental illness due to the loss of her baby and feeling like she was abandoned

sayid is depicted as dead inside during season 6 due to The Sickness, so thats like a magical form of depression. and one could argue that he already had regular depression beforehand

boone joked about shannon having bulimia. (whether or not it’s true, boone is an asshole) if it’s true, shannon has an eating disorder, which is considered a form of mental illness. espech one so self image based

self harm

self harm is not an inherent part of mental illness but such concepts are often linked so i felt i should mention some of these, it’ll be quick

hurley’s aforementioned eating disorder

charlie takes heroin as a form of self harm (that isn’t a theory on my part, it’s clear as day that charlie started taking it because his sense of self worth was so low that the drugs felt like the only option)

locke, hurley, (both as mentioned above), jack, desmond, michael and richard have all attempted/nearly commited suicide

so what can we conclude from this? well that's up to you, really. that i love lost a fuck ton? that the actors and writing in lost is amazing? that all the neurodivergent based depth got saved for the boys? yeah

but i wanna conclude with this: a part of what makes lost really special to me is that these people i’ve talked out here? they’ve suffered, and oh boy it was tasty suffering, but all of them, yes even libby, were more than suffering

these people have nuance. one way or another, these people (to varying degrees) were happy at times. silly. funny. angry. opinionated. they loved. they were loved. they lived and breathed as human beings. that means a lot to me

lost is a story of broken people given a second chance. take that as you will

thank you for your time

[bishopgirl98]

Deadly Association

Working for the Drysdales comes at a price.

WARNING: Your spoiler alert starts and ends here. If you choose to continue that is your choice. No major warnings beyond that. 

Side Note: I’m going to try and be more active. If you’re interested in seeing more fan fics or more parts to this story let me know and I may come up with a release schedule. 

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

“Y/N, can you come here please?” Linda called out. I have been the  personal assistant to Linda Drysdale for six years now and news just hit, her father, Harlan Thrombey had committed suicide. I wasn’t there when she found out, but from what their maid, Carol told me it was not good. It’s hard to picture, but she actually cried. You stick around awhile and you learn some things. For one Linda has some very extreme, “I want to speak to your manager” energy, she’s ruthless, and is always one to boast about being self-made. She’s not, but compared to the rest of the Thrombey family, she’s not half bad. Harlan agreed with me once before when I first signed on for the job.  

Coming up to Linda’s study the door was open. I knocked on the siding, “Hi,” I spoke softly, “You wanted to see me?”

She quickly put her glasses back on and smoothed down her pink suit jacket before waving me inside. I reluctantly join her on the plush blue couch. She grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze, “Now, I have made all the necessary arrangements for my father’s funeral. I cannot have anyone screwing up this day.” 

Cue the Linda Drysdale backhanded apology, “No offense to you…” in three...two... “No offense to you, you of course, would have handled it, but I just want this to move seamlessly,” she said, “Only the best for my Dad, Y/N.”

“So Linda, what is it you need?” Certainly she didn’t ask me here for nothing. 

She sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Ransom.”    

In my five years of working for her she confided in me and when she did, it was about her concern for Ransom’s future. How he took everything he had for granted and tore down those below him. Ransom is nothing more than a spoiled playboy who just because he was born with a silver spoon felt he deserved the world. Ransom is quite the opposite of Harlan. Harlan was kind, truly self-made, and above all humble. Something the rest of the family, and dare I say, Linda included could learn something from him. 

“I need you to go over and check on him. Also please, make sure he will be in attendance to the funeral. I can’t have him missing this, especially after he stormed out of Harlan’s last birthday party,” she scoffs, “The nerve.” 

“I’ll go handle it, Linda,” I quickly grabbed my things and left. Damn, how did we get here?

                                                           I stood by the fireplace with Marta, Halan’s nurse, we had been quietly chatting about our lives lately. She had been wearing her usual sweater and jeans outfit. I never saw her since I worked mainly for Linda, but she had always been welcoming and kind whenever I spoke to her. Then  the family started getting rowdy over their debate, immigration. Spilling drops of whiskey and wine as it gradually got heated. And, of course, sweet Marta just had to be dragged into it. I raised an eyebrow at her, “Do you want help?” Instead she mouthed it’s okay and went over. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way. I couldn’t bear to watch so I walked into the hall near the front door and leaned against the stairs scrolling through my phone.

“Who could possibly be texting you?” I looked up to see that blue-eyed bastard smirking at me. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a maroon cable knit sweater. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I quipped back. He hissed and clutched his chest.

“That hurt Y/N, it really hurt,” He choked out. He quickly recomposed himself, “Politics come up yet?”

I gesture to the living room, “Happening right now.”

“Welp, I won;t be here long.”

“Ransom when do you ever stay longer than thirty minutes?” I asked.

“Ever since I found out that’s how long I can handle being around them that long.” he smirked as he came closer. I could smell the musk scent of his cologne wafting off of him.  “Y/N, my father hasn’t been bothering has he?” Richard, bother me?

This caught me quite off guard, “Umm, no. Ransom should I be worried?” Before he could answer Harlan came out of his office and waved him in. He put his coat on the rack and strode off. Ransom knew something, butt wasn’t ready to tell me. This is unusual, especially for Ransom -- no comebacks, coldness, insults, and he didn’t even remark on me wearing my converse. He hated these old things and made a point to say so every time I wore them. Something was off.

Not long after I was caught in my own head. Ransom stormed out of Harlan’s office, snatching his coat off the rack barely missing my head. Linda noticed and gave me the signal. I sped off to catch up to Ransom. “Hugh,” I called. He instantly turned around, he hated being called that. “Sorry, my short legs can’t keep up, what happened?”

“It’s none of your business, Y/N,” he sneered, “Go back inside.” With that he got into his beamer and left. The family looked on from the window as I climbed the steps back into the estate. 

I saw Harlan at his desk, head down. I knocked on the door. “Care for a game of Scrabble, Old Man?”

“You’re on, Y/N,” he said with a small laugh, “Will you get the board?”

                                                          Harlan was always nice to me and the past five years every year on his birthday we played Scrabble, sure it wasn’t Go, but it was our game. I still have no idea what happened in that office, maybe he’ll be in the mood to enlighten me. 

Please don’t have a girl outside, please don’t have a girl outside…. I pull up to Ransom’s modern house and sure enough there is a blonde in a mini dress tossing her shoes at the front door. Sue enough, the ever so charming playboy is leaning against the window smirking as he downs some bourbon. 

It takes me about fifteen minutes to call the young woman off, but she angrily leaves after I convinced her to get an Uber home. Ransom throws the front door open once she’s gone. “I think that’s a new record for you, Y/N,” he laughs.

I laugh bitterly, “Well, you’ve given me a lot of practice, some would say too much practice.” He steps out of the way allowing me in. He clicks his tongue a couple of times. 

He shakes his head in disagreement, “I don’t think so.” The nerve. Okay time to cut to the chase.

“Enough, Ransom,” I say, “Your Mom wants you to be at the funeral for sure especially after Harlan’s party.” He nods while pouring some more bourbon into a shot glass. 

“As usual, I will do my best, Y/N,” he says.

“No.” I shoot back.

“Yes, and don’t go back and forth with me this time,” he warns, “You’re a stubborn one.” 

“Dealing with you I have to be,” I respond. It’s quiet and he’s just staring at me as he swishes his drink around. 

“Still nothing from my father?” I straighten up at the question and clear my throat.

“No, but could you tell me --” A knock comes from the front door. I go to answer it when Ransom steps in front of me blocking the way. “What are you--” 

He opens the door to an average height man. He’s clean shaven with glasses and a suit tucked under a tweed jacket. “Hi, would you happen to be Ransom Drysdale?” 

“Yes and she is leaving,” he says handing me my brown cross body off the rack. I shift past the man and the door slams shut. I head back to my silver Buick to find a note stuck to the windshield. 

“I know what you did” 

Shit. 

[forestwater87]

Tales of Fandom Past: Harry Potter and the Shipping Slaves

So, in my spare time I read a lot, lot . . . lot of fandom_wank. A lot. More than should be possible, considering it’s a dead website linking mostly to other dead websites, but I’m a woman addicted to drama who has the gift of long periods of quiet at work, so I’m working my way through almost 2 decades of fan history and it’s just fascinating.

Fandom, back in the ‘00s? Was so much more wild than it is now.

Plagiarism! Fake suicides! Fraud! Theft of real people’s actual money! Stalkers, both real and made up! Fanfic writers so popular they finagled it into mountains of free stuff and a book deal! Everyone was really gross and homophobic! 

There were no rules, and that made it a terrible and incredibly fun time to be part of a fandom.

And we’re not talking enough about it. I guess that’s where I come in.

I’m interested in telling these stories -- not in the incredible level of detail of the MsScribe Saga or the Cassie Claire Plagiarism Debacle, but enough for us to all have a moment to think: Hold on, what the fuck was fandom doing during the entirety of the Bush administration?

A lot, it turns out. Much of it totally wild.

Today’s topic: Shipping wars are as bad as slavery

Date: August 2005

Fandom: Harry Potter

Supposed topic(s): Shipping, canon

Content warning(s): Accidental and ironic diminishing of slavery, complaints about political correctness and free speech, racism in general, lots of hurt feelings and drama

"Now, I'm not black, but boy, do I feel for the black people. If I lived in the 1800's, I wouldn't keep slaves, and if someone has a difference of opinion than me now, that's fine, believe what you want."

Background

In August of 2005, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince had been out for a little less than a month, the film version of The Goblet of Fire wouldn’t come out until November, and the last Potter movie had been released over a year ago. In terms of shipping, fans had just discovered, to either their delight or horror, that Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione were canon; while some would continue to hold out hope that there would be a last-minute reversal of expectations, most of the fandom both on and off the internet was in agreement: 

The shipping wars were over, and the Harry/Hermione fans (a.k.a., H/Hr fen, or “Harmonians”) had decisively lost.

The Harmonians’ ire seemed to have been pretty evenly split between J.K. Rowling -- who they felt had let them down -- and the R/Hr and H/G shippers (a.k.a. “Herons” and “Chocolateers,” respectively, though I’m not sure anyone actually used those terms for themselves; they appear to have been given from without), who were taking a victory lap. Depending on one’s perspective, this was either a long-overdue celebration by two groups of shippers who’d faced the fandom’s ire for approximately 5 years and were now vindicated, or it was the tactless gloating of sore losers who were thrilled to get one over on their hated enemies. Either way, tensions were no lower just because canon had decided the victors, and the battleground seemed to shift from the books to the movies -- where shippers of all kinds were in debate over which romance would win out onscreen.

Enter Emerson Spartz, a teenager in charge of one of the most popular fansites at the time and king of creating controversy . . . who had very strong opinions about shipping, and Harmonians in particular.

The Inciting Incident

Emerson had already incited the ire of Harmonians by calling them “delusional” in an infamous interview with J.K. Rowling. The wound was still raw, having come shortly after the release of Half-Blood Prince, and in some circles Emerson was already Public Enemy #1.

Therefore, when Emerson was one of two “anti”-Harmonians interviewed in a San Francisco Chronicle article about the shipping wars, some fans cried foul.

More responses can be found in a summary of the incident here, but personal favorites include a letter sent to the author of the SF Chronicle piece:

The majority of Harry/Hermione shippers are not merely upset that we didn't get what we wanted in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. That makes us sound childish. While I'm forced to admit that there has been much bile and vitriol posted on various H/Hr shipping sites, the majority of us are reasonable people. What really hurt our feelings was the way the Mugglenet/TLC article made it seem as if J. K. Rowling herself felt we were really dense, missing her "anvil-sized clues." Emerson's subsequent "apology" for the harsh words directed at the Harry/Hermione 'shipper community was a non-apology, which you [the author of the SFC article] would have known if you had done more than just take his word that he apologized. He simply used the "apology" as an opportunity to issue another dig. I suppose not much better can be expected from a child of 18 who has suddenly become a bit of a celebrity. But I do expect better from a colleague; a professional writer. ...

You have assisted one side of the argument and failed to represent the other. Did you attempt to interview the webmasters of any Harry/Hermione shipping sites or did you merely cut and paste posts that were pointed out to you by Emerson and Melissa? Your article shows no evidence that you made any attempt to give the other side equal time, so to speak, and as a result, you have contributed to the perceprtion [sic] that ALL H/Hr 'shippers are irrational, bitter, spoiled brats. And that's quite unfair. (Hughes, 2005, paras. 13 & 18)

Or this comment in a Harmonian forum by a disappointed reader: 

History is written by the victorius [sic] (or something like that), isn't it how the saying goes?. I'm afraid we are witnessing it firsthand. Herons feel they are the winners on this war, and as such, they feel they have a right to treat us anyway they want to, and they think we have no weapons to defend ourselves since even J.K seems to have sided with them. Even if most of us are pretty reasonable people, at this point anything we say in regards of J.K's apparent disregard for our feelings (thoughts, opinions, whatever), will be gladly taken as the lashing out of sore losers. ::sigh:: I say, just ignore Emerson, he's just some lost kid desperate for attention. And how good can the guy who wrote this article be if he didn't bother to check the facts before he went slandering us?, not much me thinks. (Remolina, 2005, para. 21)

These responses, while perhaps silly or overblown, were not enough to make history. That honor belonged to a Harmonian going by the username Panther.

How, one might wonder?

The Blowout

Ya know, come to think of it, people like Emerson were probably the kinda people that started slavery. I mean, think about it, they thought the slaves were animals, just because they had different colored skin. Emerson thinks we're stupid and delusional for having different beliefs. Get the similarities here, people? Now, I'm not black, but boy, do I feel for the black people. If I lived in the 1800's, I wouldn't keep slaves, and if someone has a difference of opinion than me now, that's fine, believe what you want. (Panther, 2005, paras. 23-25)

The reaction was immediate and explosive from Panther’s fellow Harmonians. Some understood and empathized with Panther’s view; they saw it as a bit hyperbolic, but agreed with the underlying point being made.

I can see where they were going with this...a different analogy would probably have been better. Maybe the religious persecution during Mary Tudor's reign, or the Salem Witch Hunt/Trials, the religous [sic] crusades, the wars in Bosnia etc. We harmonians are being "persecuted" for our differening viewpoints/perspectives. (Anndee Granger, 2005, paras. 30-32)

The belief that H/Hr shippers were being persecuted for their beliefs was a pervasive one, and extended to fans, Emerson and other fandom “authorities,” and the author herself.

No, what we are experiencing is not at the same extreme level because of the world we now live in, but the base level is still the same. The base level taking us back to different beliefs and views without the ability to be heard in the correct manner, and yes it does feel like a form of persecution. (*Under your Skin, 2005, paras. 36-37)

While not on the same level as slavery, the intolerance of their ship did call to mind other examples of discrimination and bigotry:

Of course no one is dying because of this, but all in all we are being persecuted for our different beliefs. "Bloody" Mary Tudor, killed Protestants because she so hated their different views on Christ. This is an extreme indeed, but the mentality behind it, the vitrol [sic], is the same. (Andee Granger, 2005, para. 38)

This extreme point of view, while widespread, was not universal among the Harmonians. Many of them were . . . understandably appalled by the comment and those agreeing with it:

No wonder other people find it easy to portray us as reactionary and vicious. Some of you bloody well are. (jane99, 2005, para. 43)

I agree that it is very vicious and out in left field . . . Slavery was an oppressive movement for hundreds of years, resulting in the deaths of millions. I would hardly regard that with 'shipper treatment, nowadays. However, the schoolyard bully is a very appropriate analogy, in my opinion. Hopefully you understand the difference. (myrhlyn, 2005, para. 52)

The Response

NarcissaM brought the subject to the outside world by posting it in fandom_wank -- a defunct LiveJournal specializing in fandom drama, which now exists primarily in archives -- and the result was universally disbelief and amusement. The responses ranged from insightful, if crass, commentary . . .

Emerson did not kill your dog, tell you that Santa wasn't real, and touch you in your swimsuit areas. And the more I read the more I'm convinced that H/Hr fans aren't angry because what he said was insulting, they're angry because what he said was *accurate*. (iczer6)

I'm also wondering where keeping slaves was a matter of, y'know, people having different beliefs, and not the subjugation of an entire culture by another which had more money and more powerful weapons, and needed a lot of manual labor but didn't want to pay for it. (slackerbitch)

To good old-fashioned sarcasm and snark:

That's not the stupidest thing I've ever read, but it's in the top five. (Anonymous)

That's right. There is a conspiracy, Hermionians! The world is against you and want to take a shit on all your fan fiction! XD (Anonymous “Mary”)

QUICKLY! SOMEBODY CALL A WAAAAAHBULANCE! WE HAVE INTERNET PERSECUTION! (aerobot)

F_W, known for good and ill as a site that takes nothing seriously except the desire to laugh at themselves and especially others, took the slavery comment and ran with it:

So how much does a healthy H/Hr fan with good teeth go for these days? (xero-sky)

Which H/Hr's are in the big house and which ones are working in the fields? ... We didn't land on Plymouth rock, Plymouth rock landed on us! *throws up the fist* (prettyveela)

If we're going to start enslaving delusional people, I want to start with the scientologists. Who's with me? (ladybirdsleeps)

Big Daddy Heron:*hits the H/Hr fan with a whip* Your ship name is H/Hr, H/Hr! Say it! H/Hr shipper: H-Harmony (sewingmyfish)

Bully for the slaves! In fact they would have been sooo much better off if all we 21st century people could trade places with the whites that lived back then. Not only could we tell them to get a life, none of us would have kept slaves! (chief)

You know, just like slaves, they have to work out in the hot sun for no wages and be beaten and whipped and raped and sold like cattle deal with an author not writing the fictional pairing they wanted. (slackerbitch)

Mere hours after the controversy was reported to F_W, a user named ahiru created some icons to celebrate the controversy:

And with some more chuckles about the inherent ridiculousness of such a claim, the fandom and its onlookers dropped the subject.

For a few months.

The Aftermath

In November 2005, some users rediscovered the icons made by ahiru and found them insensitive and racist. This is immediately reported to F_W not once but twice, and the folks there were no longer entertained, responding with less amusement than outright hostility. A couple of F_Wankers understood to at least some extent why there might be people who didn’t love the icons, though they did generally come down on the side of parody and feel those upset were missing the point of the joke. A lot of F_Wankers were upset about political correctness and free speech, and were eager to point out the oppression faced by other groups of people.

Someone anonymous entered the fray with racist guns blazing, and was summarily eviscerated by gleeful F_Wankers.

After that, the dust settled, and all was quiet on the fandom front . . . at least, until the next inevitable disaster.

Further Reading

The Interview that sparked the Emerson outrage

An offshoot of Harmony that believes in Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson’s undeniable chemistry and romance

A collection of Harmonian controversies, 2006-2010

Other HP controversies

[bleachanimefan1]

Turtles Forever Part 68

Mission Of Gravity

A helicopter flew into a base. Hun, Stockman, Karai, and Saki stepped out of the copter and Dr. Chaplin walked over to them.

"Dr. Chaplin," Saki spoke. "I trust what you have to show me will justify the excursion from the city?"

"Believe me, Master," Chaplin answered. "You're gonna to dig it big time." They entered the base, walking inside of it. Inside, was a giant blimp.

"You brought us all the way out here for a blimp? What pea-brained half-wit authorized this project?" Stockman asked, in disbelief.

"I did," Saki answered, narrowing his eyes. Stockman turns to him, nervously.

"Oh! Well, I'm sure you have your reasons, oh wise and revered master," he replied.

"Indeed," Saki answered. He turned to Chaplin. "Excellent work, Dr. Chaplin."

"I installed that Triceraton force field override mechanism that you recovered, just as you requested, sir," Dr. Chaplin said as they began to walk. "This baby will breach the atmospheric shield around Beijing and retrieve desired cargo, no problem!" 

"And just what does this boy genius thinks he's retrieving?" Stockman questioned.

"A Triceraton anti-gravity generator," Saki answered, smirking.

"But Master," Stockman pointed out. "removing an antigrav generator from a city floating 20 miles above the Earth's surface is a virtual suicide mission!"

"Yes, that is why I have selected you for this operation," Saki answered.

"Me?" Stockman answered, nervously. Karai walked up to her father.

"But, master, what if the millions of innocents that will perish when Beijing comes crashing to Earth?" She questioned, wondering.

"They are of no concern to me," he said her.

"How dare you question the master?" Hun scolded Karai. "I am behind this plan 100 percent."

"Good,"  Sami replied. "You will have the honor of accompanying Dr. Stockman on this extremely dangerous mission."

Hun's mouth dropped in shock. Karai stared at the group, silence. She was internally debating herself on what to do. If she let her father's plan proceed, innocents will suffer. But, she couldn't go against her father's wishes. However, maybe there was several people who can...

The three brothers and four girls follow Raph as they jumped across the rooftops. Through the night vision goggles, that they were wearing, everyone saw some Foot collecting more alien tech.

"Here it is, just like told ya," Raph said. "another one of the Shredder's alien tech garbage picking goon squad."

"I wonder what he's collecting all this stuff for," Donnie murmured.

"Intergalactic hard sale?"Mikey joked. Raph smacked him on the back of the head with his hand. "Ow!"

Leo looked again with his night vision goggles. "Hm, no police security around this time around. Just be something really important buried down there if the Shredder doesn't want the authorities to knowing about it."

Suddenly, Donnie's shell cell ringed again. He answered it using his headset. "Hello?" Donnie groaned as he only heard static again.

"Oh, not that stupid fax call again," Raph groaned.

"Only this time, I came prepared with my palmtop to trace the signal," Donnie explained, pulling out his palmtop. As he did, a download message appeared on the screen. "Download in progress?" He asked, confused. "Impossible."

"Don, figure it out later," Leo told him. "we've got something much bigger moved here." Everyone looked and saw a giant Triceraton ship being lifted under the bridge.

"Whoa, a Triceraton supply ship?" Donnie asked.

"Let's take a closer look." Leo said.

Hun and Stockman were standing in the blimp's control room, complaining.

"All of our loyal service and this is the thanks we get?" Hun spats. "Pushed aside by the new blood."

"Perhaps, it's time we started pushing back," Stockman suggested. The two looked at the double doors as Chaplin came in.

"Hey, I just wanted to say, no matter how bad the Shredder treats you, I'm still honored to be working with the legendary Baxter Stockman...even if you are a freakish brain in a jar of your former self," He praised. Stockman frowned. "The truth is, I can't seeing someone I admired reduced to such a pathetic existence. So I've decided to put an end to your suffering," Chaplin begins to inch towards Stockman, who backs away in shock. Chaplin picks up Stockman's jar.

"Wait, what are you-no! W-What are you doing?!" He pressed on button and the hologram shuts off. Hun watched as Chaplin took Stockman away.

Everyone hid behind a tractor, looking around for scouts or any Foot ninjas. But, they saw that there weren't any around.

"Hey, no foot goons," Mikey pointed out.

"Where did they all go?" Donnie asked.

"I don't like it," Leo said. "Keep your eyes open."

They stopped in front of a ship. "You think they're in the ship?" Raph questioned.

"Only one way to find out," Leo said as they all walked in. They were carrying flashlights to help see.

"Nothing in here of any value to the Shredder," Donnie replied. Suddenly, the doors closed behind them. Everyone ran to the doors and started pounding on it, except Mikey.

"Nothing except us turtles and girls!" he exclaimed, nervously.

 They tried to get the door to open, but it was closed shut. Then the lights suddenly turned on, a dark figure emerged from the shadows.

"Karai?" Leo questioned, taking off his goggles.

"We need to talk," She tells them.

"Talk to the sais, cause the ears ain't listening," Raph retorted, pulling out his sais.

"Raph, wait," Leo stops him. "Let's hear her out. She helped us last time remember?"

"And she tried to kill you the time before that, remember?" Yuuki reminded Leo.

"I apologize for the elaborate set up, but I knew of no other way to contact you," Karai explained. "I need your help."

Back on the blimp, Chaplin was still carrying Stockman as he walked up to a large robot body that was standing next to the elevator. Hun crossed his arms as he watched Chaplin took Stockman's brain from the jar, placing it into the robot. The hologram of Stockman turns back on.

 "Release me at once, you-!" He paused, looking at his new body. "What the?"

"What do you think of your new bod?" Chaplin asked.

"I have limbs," Stockman laughed. "powerful limbs!"

"I figure you'll need them to survive the big mission," Chaplin said, proudly.

"Ah, yes, the mission," Stockman turned to the young scientist. "Pity that you'll be miss out on the maiden voyage of this incredible vessel of this ship that you designed and built with your own two hands. Not to mention witness firsthand as an entire city crashes down from the stratosphere!" He slammed his hands on the panel.

"Man, that'd be so cool," Chaplin said in awe.

"Yes," Stockman smirked, evilly. "Of course, you could decide to go behind the Shredder's back and join us, but that would be wrong, wouldn't it?"

"Hey,...what the boss doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" The young scientist asked, hesitantly. Hun rubs his chin in thought.

"True, and naturally, I would assume full responsibility for your well-being throughout the entire mission. After all, we wouldn't want you to call victim to some...unfortunate accident." Stockman said to him.

"And so if they remove the antigrav generator, they will be sending millions to their doom. I need you to prevent this from happening," Karai said as she finished explaining.

"So does this finally mean that you come to your senses and turn your back on the Shredder?" Leo questioned.

"I am duty-bound to serve the Shredder, as always," Karai told him. "I just...do not wish to see millions suffer."

"Even if we agree to help you, what's to stop the Shredder from coming back for the antigrav generator the next time? It's not we can shut it down," Donnie pointed out.

"Actually, I might be able to provide some assistance regarding that particular technical conundrum," a familiar voice answered, from Donnie's bag.

"Whoa, am I hear things?" Mikey said. "That sounded like Professor Honeycutt!"

Donnie opened his bag and pulled out his palmtop, revealing the professor on the screen. "Hello?"

"It IS Professor Honeycutt!" Donnie exclaimed as everyone leaned in.

"Professor, you're alive! No way!" Raph exclaimed in shock.

"It can't be," Leo shook his head in surprise. "We saw you sacrifice yourself." He took the palmtop. "You saved the world."

"Oh dear, I'm a afraid I don't remember that," the Fugitoid replied. "Thing last thing I was that I was on the rooftop with Donatello, broadcast a signal to make me invisible to the Triceratons. What I didn't tell you was that I also uploaded a back-up of my memory code into the satellite communications network, set to contact you in the event of my destruction. Which I'm assuming must have happened."

"So you were the one making those calls to my shell cell," Donnie concluded. "And the download, that was you sending your memory core into my palmtop." 

"Well, most of it," the Fugitoid answered. "your hard drive was lacking capacity, so I had to forego some non-essential information."

Mikey the palmtop from Donnie's hand. "Who cares, professor? I'm just so happy to see you!"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" the Fugitoid questioned, confused.

"Michelangelo," the palmtop beeps. "Mikey," the orange masked turtle received no response. "The Mikester," He still received no response. "Wait, so I'm non-essential information?"

"Anyway, I couldn't help overhearing you dilemma, Miss?" Mikey turned the professor to Karai.

"Karai," she bowed to him.

"With my knowledge of Triceraton technology, I should be able to assume control of the antigrav generator gently lowering the city of Beijing back to Earth," the Fugitoid explained. "In theory."

"Saving millions of lives in the process!" Leo exclaimed, taking the palmtop from Mikey. "That's brilliant, professor!"

"So are we to assume we have a deal?" Karai pondered.

"Deal," Leo answered. "Okay, now how do we get into Beijing?"

"Leave that to me."

As everyone began to leave, Yuuki turned back, looking at Karai. Leo noticed.

"You coming?" He asked.

"I will in a minute," Yuuki answered. "I need to have a little chat with our companion."Leo stared for a moment then followed after his brothers. Yuuki approached Karai as she was making a phone call.

"You got a minute?" She asked. Karai glanced over at her then hanged up. 

"Yes, sure. What is it?" Karai asked.

"I just wanted to say one thing: If you put one foot out of line, do anything, and I mean anything, to hurt Leo or my family then you will have to answer to me," Yuuki threatened as she glared darkly. "It will be the last mistake that you will ever make, permanently." Karai stared at her in shock as she stepped back. 

Yuuki silently walked away leaving the stunned woman in standing where she was.

The blimp was preparing to leave as cargo was being carried inside by a forklift. Karai stopped the driver as she instructed them to lower a large crate.

"What's in the crate, Karai?" Hun asked, curious. "And why are you suddenly joining this mission?"

 "That is none of your concern," Karai told him. Hun growled as she walked away.

Chaplin and Stockman watched as several strange machines was being loaded onto the blimp. "What exactly is all of this?" Stockman demanded.

"Uh, uh, uh, that'd spoil the surprise," Chaplin answered, placing his hands on one of the strange cargo. The sun was starting to rise as the blimp took off.

"Hey, attention all hands, welcome to China," Chaplin announced on the speaker. "The floating city of Beijing is dead ahead. Pretty cool, huh?"

Karai sneaked quietly to the Cargo Bay, looking around until she saw the same box that she was keeping a close eye on. She tapped on it. "Stand by, we are approaching Beijing," she whispered. The four brothers and girls were inside, with hang gliders strapped to their backs.

"About time," Mikey said. "I really gotta go to the little turtle's room."

As the blimp advanced closer towards Beijing, Chaplin was steering it towards the sheild. "Activating force field override," He pressed a button and the blimp went right through the shield. Back in the Cargo Back, Hun had stalked Karai, realizing that she was up to something and saw her next to the box, talking to it.

"I knew you were up to something," He backs away and pressed a button on the wall with his elbow. "Oops. Happy landing, Karai." The floor suddenly opens underneath of Karai, along with the box, falling towards Beijing.

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted Karai!" Raph shouted.

"We can argue later!" Leo said. "Everybody brace!" Leo kicked the crate open and everyone fell out. They pulled the lever on their hang gliders opening them. Donnie looks down and saw that Leo hadn't opened his glider yet.

"Leo!" Donnie called out. "What are you waiting for? Deploy!"

Leo catches Karai before she hit the ground. "Gotcha!" He opens his glider right before the two was about to hit the top of a building.

"We made it," Leo said in relief.

"Of course," Karai replied. "Now land, Leonardo. We have much work to do."

"Just about to touch Tiananmen Square," Chaplin reported. "Where's Karai?"

"She got bumped from the mission," Hun explained as he walked into the control room. "apparently, she had a little falling out with the organization."

An old man was driving a bike, that was attached to a wagon. He runs away as he sees Leo, along with the others as they land behind him.

"Hey, what was with the instant skydiving lesson?" Mikey demanded.

"It was an unforeseen event," Karai said, flipping her hair. "But, I have my suspicion as to who is responsible."

"You know what your problem is, lady?" Raph growled. "You can't decided whether you want to help us or kill us. Make up your mind already!" He pulls out his sais.

"Ditto!" Yuuki agreed, pulling out her fan. Leo stops them.

"Not now, guys. We're miles off target and we need to get to Tiananmen Square!" He tells them.

"Hey guys," Donnie called out, climbing into the wagon. "How about this? Low tech, but effective."

"Hop on, Karai," Leo suggested, only to find that she had vanished. "Karai?"

In Tiananmen square, there were Beijing soldiers guarding the antigrav generator. They spotted the blimp above them. 

"Great, nobody warned us we'd be having an welcoming committee to contend with," Stockman commented.

"No sweat, doc," Chaplin said. "Time to unleash my surprise." He pressed a button and the strange cargo began to fall into the city of Beijing. The troops ran away as the strange contraptions began to open up revealing to be mousers, only bigger and more upgraded.

"Mousers version 2.0," Chaplin explained. One of the guards fired a laser, however, the mouser was not affected by it. "I took your basic concept and gave them a little upgrade. Cool, huh?"

Stockman scoffed. "Upgrade? More like a side grade,"

One of the mousers destroyed a search light. Another guard gasped and ran away as another search light was destroyed. Eventually, the mousers overran the guards sending them running. The robots chewed through the fence and the blimp stopped right above the generator. The crane locks on, with Chaplin on it. He jumps down and climbed down the ladder.

Mikey wheezed as he peddled the bike. "Integra...generator dead ahead,"

"Ready to work your magic, professor?" Donnie asked from his palmtop. Stockman sees the group from the blimp.

"What! How on Earth did those meddlesome freaks get here?!" he demanded.

"I got this one, Doctor Stockman," Chaplin offered. He turns on the voice control. "Mousers, attack!"

"Funny, Karai never mentioned anything about overgrown mousers!" Mikey exclaimed. Everyone jumped down from the wagon, bracing themselves.

"Nothing fancy, guys," Leo called out. "Just clear a path for Don and the professor!"

Leo jumps up, landing on a mouser's head before cutting it off. Donnie leaps and smacks a mouser with his staff. The mousers soon began to surround everyone. Chaplin looks down at them from above and starts to head back to the control panel. "Commencing shut down sequence. Get ready to haul me up when this baby rips free from the pavement."

Donnie jumps onto a mouser and managed to leap towards the generator. Chaplin chuckles at him. "You're too late, green guy," The generator starts to shake, to his surprise, then a blue light begins to emit from it.

"What the shell?!" Raph asked.

"That's not supposed to happen!" Chaplin panicked. The city was dropping at an fast rate, plummeting towards the Earth. Everyone screamed as they were lifted up, as well as the citizens, due to the gravity. The blimp shakes as Chaplin managed to get to the rope.

"Pull me up. We're gonna have to ditch it!"

"Oh, that's not all we're going to ditch, my boy," Stockman answered. He released the rope from the blimp and Chaplin fell back onto the tower. Stockman took the blimp, driving it away from the city. Everyone tried to steady themselves, with difficulty.

"Way too much free fall for one day," Mikey commented. Donnie hanged onto the generator opening his bag.

"Showtime, professor," the palmtop drifted up towards him. Donnie catches it and aims the palmtop at the control panel.

"Now, carefully regulated circuitry of the gravity flux capacitor should gradually decrease the decent at a rate of 12.6 phraxos per trigon," the city begins to float safely down and everybody lands on the ground.

"Yes!" Mikey cheered as he kisses the ground. "Back on solid ground."

"Unfortunately, so are they!" Raph exclaimed, pointing at the mousers as they land. Everyone began to fight with them as Chaplin lands safely in front of the tower.

"I'm alive!" he cheered. "I'm alive!" A mouser hits him on the back of the head and he falls to the ground, unconscious, groaning.

"How are we holding up?" Donnie asked.

"I'm afraid I'll have to divert power from the atmospheric shield," the Fugitoid explained. "Although, the wind resistance may work in our favor."

The wind starts to pick up as the turtles and girls fight the mousers. "As if we don't have enough problems," Leo groaned, as the mousers started to advance towards them. Suddenly, Karai flips, landing in front of them, fighting off two mousers.

"About time you showed up," Raph commented.

"I could not afford to be seen coming to your aid earlier," Karai started as she kicked a mouser. "If the Shredder were to find out..."

"Enough talk!" Leo shouted. "Let's do it!"

He jumps up and faced against to mousers. Mikey jumps up and climbs on one. "Yeeha!" he shouted. "Get along, little mousers!" he uses his nunchucks to steer the robot. A mouser was climbing up towards Donnie. He turns around getting ready to attack, but, Venus jumps up onto the generator and kicks the mouser off. 

"Hurry up!" She called out. Donnie turned back to the control panel. 

"The city's almost back on Terra firma," he said. Mikey looses control of the mouser he was riding and it throws him off into the fence. Two mousers began to advance towards him. Alopex notices and jumps in between them trying to fend the robots off, struggling. Two mousers, Leo was fighting against, slammed into him with their heads, knocking him to the ground. Raph tackles one and another robot grabs him and throws Raph to the ground. Mona and Yuuki both get knocked down as the robots pinned them down. Karai gets tackled by one as it pinned her to the ground.

"I hope you know what you're doing, professor!" Donnie exclaimed. The antigrav generator turns back on, frying the mousers. The city of Beijing began to slowly drift back down into place.

"That electromagnetic pulse should have burned out this device, while simultaneously nullifying those awful metal ruffians," the Fugitoid explained. Leo looked around, seeing the destroyed mousers.

"Then it is over," Karai said, starting to leave.

"Not until you walk away from the Shredder, Karai," Leo called out.

"You know I cannot do that," she told him. Leo places a hand on her shoulder turning her around.

"This is the perfect opportunity. They think you are dead. You can disappear. We can help you start a new life," Leo explained. Karai looks away, pondering for a minute before looking back at Leo.

"Could you so easily turn your back on your father?" she responded. "Even if you knew the things he did were wrong?" Leo frowned, looking at his brothers.  Donnie had a strange look on his face, like something was bothering him.

"Is something wrong?" Venus asked.

"What are you looking at?" Raph questioned.

"Isn't the Forbidden City supposed to be north of here?" Donnie asked.

"And isn't the sun supposed to rise in the East?" Mikey pondered, as the sun began to rise on the left of the generator.

"Oh dear," the Fugitoid said. "Did I set the city down facing in the wrong direction?"

In the Shredder's lair, Hun and Stockman were walking onto the base then into the elevator, heading towards the lab.

"The master will be disappointed that we came back empty handed," Hun pointed.

"Not to mention, the unfortunate demise of Karai and young doctor Chaplin," Stockman answered as the doors open, entering the room. "We'll blame it all on them, just follow my lead." They stop in front of Saki, who was looking at them, with a dark look in his eyes.

"Master, we have unfortunate news," Stockman started. "Karai and Doctor Chaplin are-"

"Wait," Saki interrupted, walking over to a control panel. Hun and Stockman, looked in confusion. "Perhaps, you would like to share your news," He turns on the video cam, revealing Karai and Chaplin on the other end. "with Karai and Dr. Chaplin."

"Hi, Dr. Stockman!" Chaplin greeted. "Everything's okay, we made it!"

The two hesitantly glanced over at Saki, who crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at them.

"B-B-But, sir, we can explain-" Stockman protested, nervously as the two backed away. Saki began to advance slowly towards them.

"Noo!" the two shouted as their screams echoed throughout the city.