#also y’all seem to forget that they were manipulated by the powers that be only when it comes to mary

[harbingerofsoup]

oh so when any other iffy character choice gets made on supernatural it’s the writers fault and we can accept it, but when mary winchester—

[goferwashere]

Assorted Punch-Out!! Monster Hunter AU facts and headcanons :3

Oh yeah baby, here we goooooo

- To kick it off, why not start with the fact that Dragon and Don used to be friends? He fulfilled the same kind of role for Don as Joe does now, but backed off when he started dating Macho. They never were super close though, so he had no problem erasing their friendship from his memory and moving on like nothing happened.

- Except obviously constantly messing with Dragon’s perception is going to mess him up a little bit. Dragon’s memory when it comes to Don is really bizarre. He feels he should know him somehow, and that they’ve talked, but will always struggle to come up with his name if asked. Ever since Don started throwing his monster-only parties, Dragon has had to see him more and more often. So much so that he has continuously brought up things he shouldn’t remember, and Don had to erase his memory again. (Dragon is doing is own little investigation on his own into what’s going on with him.)

-Aran’s hearing is terrible. Not so bad he needs a hearing aid or anything, but it’s pretty bad. This is why Don will continuously lose to him.

- Soda and Macho’s scheduled gym times frequently overlap, so they see each other a lot. Soda isn’t happy about this, but Macho couldn’t care less.

- Bear Hugger is a terrible liar. He nearly exposed the entire monster side of the WVBA to Hondo while offering to take him out to eat. He just hates not being honest.

-Kaiser is so easy to bribe. Offer him some blood (yours, or if you have it with you someone else’s) and he’ll do you just about any kind of favour. Within reason, obviously. But that man is malnourished af, please give him a little morsel

- Aran is really uncomfortable around Hugger because of his past with werewolves. When he won that fight against him he was releasing years upon years of pent up anger and frustration on him. This makes Hugger pretty sad because Aran just doesn’t seem to like him, but if he did know he’d understand.

- Bull loves puzzles! He’ll do them with Tiger on their off time sometimes.

- Don can’t sway Disco. Quick is always right beside him ready to bring him back to reality (whatever that might take). Or if not, then to just take over Disco’s body and get him outta the situation. (Which is something he can’t normally do, but Disco is in a weakened state of mind.)

- Soda has tried to get Joe to show him stuff to take down monsters, but Joe will always refuse because he knows that Soda won’t be using it for good.

- Joe confronted Don once before, finding out about his manipulation. Only, the first time this happened they weren’t very close, and Joe was very much prepared to kill him. He had him cornered and pinned to a wall with a dagger to his throat, and Don managed to command him to stop just before he killed him. He was so shaken by the event that not only did he make Joe forget about it, he made himself forget. He doesn’t use his power on himself, normally because it’s very hard, but he just couldn’t go back to acting like himself after what happened.

-Kaiser refuses to talk to Disco or Quick. He avoids them like the plague after their first match, which kinda bums Disco out because he wants his scarf back.

okay maybe more later idk I’m abt to pass tf out gn y’all

(also @oohbuggypie !! Tagging you because )

[azulas-daddy-kink]

Alright so I know I’ve made some of these points before but now I’m compiling all of my thoughts about Ozai and Ursa’s relationship in one post.

People who do not see Ursa as a victim of Ozai’s abuse and/or delusionally ship Urzai on the basis that Ozai “really loved” Ursa legit fucking scare me.

Ozai did not love Ursa, in any capacity. Ozai does not love anyone. Except maybe himself but he flip-flops on that one, even. 

Ursa did not love Ozai. She was terrified of him. She was taken from her home and forced to marry him - and no, she did not have a choice, not really. Her “choice” was marry Ozai or he kills the love of her life right in front of her. She had about as much of a choice there as Jigsaw’s victims. Starve to death or hack your own foot off, yeah, complete free will.

Then once she married the bastard, she was told she belonged to him, and that she could never see or speak to her family ever again. So romantic, right?

What about this screams “Yes, Ozai, I love you and I can’t wait to have your babies!”

Speaking of, this is more or less implying that Zuko and Azula were conceived as the result of marital rape but y’all ain’t ready for a deep dive into that. Anyone who thinks Ursa could fully consent in this situation needs to have their head examined.

Now backtracking a bit to “she was terrified of him”, let’s not forget this panel!

This is what Ursa looks like when she sees a PORTRAIT of Ozai. A mere portrait. I rest my case.

But alright, I know what some of you are probably thinking. The comics are not canon (except when you want them to be), the comics “retconned” their backstory, or whatever else. I disagree on the last point in particular because that’s not what retconning means. There is nothing, absolutely zero, in the show that contradicts Ozai and Ursa’s comic backstory, or Ozai’s behavior during all of that.

Ozai, in canon, is a genocidal, child abusing, egomaniac. He is shown to have very little regard for others’ feelings, wants, or needs, and only seems interested in his own desires and lust for power. Never once do we see him treating someone with basic respect and consideration, not even his precious favorite, Azula. He manipulates her, he tells her what she wants to hear so that she remains loyal to him but ultimately he views her as a possession - an extension of himself rather than her own person. Which is very typical of narcissists.

Given the way Ozai treats literally everyone else he interacts with, what reason do we have to believe he treated Ursa any differently?

None.

“B-b-b-but what about the fountain?”

Look, I don’t know what it is with this fandom and viewing literally any little thing a character does behind shipping goggles but it is certainly quite annoying.

So here in Zuko’s flashback, we see Ozai standing in front of the fountain, the morning after his father died and Ursa was subsequently banished.

And for some reason, this is used to prove that Ozai loves and misses Ursa which.... what?

A lot just happened over the past 24 hours. Ozai and Ursa murdered his own father for one, and for two, Ozai is coming to the realization that everything he’s ever wanted is now within his grasp. Is it not possible he’s just thinking or clearing his head? I guess that would make too much sense. Is it not also possible that he is mourning the death of his father?

I know, I know Ozai killed Azulon... but it’s complicated. Up until this point, he had desperately been trying to please him. Think of the scene in the throne room, where he’s trying to show Azulon why he is the better son and more worthy of Iroh’s place in the line of succession. And he used AZULA to do it. The child he named after Azulon, his favorite. Declaring that she was “a true prodigy, just like her grandfather for who she is named”. 

Y’all, if this doesn’t scream “Please be proud of me, Daddy!” then I don’t know what does.

It was a bitter pill for Ozai to swallow, I’m sure, that no matter what he accomplished in his life that he would always play second fiddle to Iroh, and that his father would never give him the respect and approval he so desperately craved...

So yeah, gonna go out on a limb here and say this is what Ozai was thinking about. The father he had spent his entire life trying to please was now dead, and he had to close that chapter in his life for good.

Now, before anyone comes at me about the “original series bible”, yes, I am aware that it exists and what it says about Ozai and Ursa. The claim is again that the show and/or comics “retcon” this but I really don’t see how when all that was changed was that she was low-born rather that high-born and/or nobility.

I suppose it’s because people like to cherry pick the line “She was the perfect match for Prince Ozai and soon became his wife.”

Here is the thing about royal marriages - they’re not perfect because they’re love matches, they’re perfect because they are politically savvy and present a certain image to the public.

And not for nothing but these early character concepts and the old Nick website say A LOT of weird shit that never made it into the show or is blatantly untrue but even still, nothing in the above passage disproves the following statement: Ursa is a victim of domestic violence.

Ozai abused Ursa. Full fucking stop. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it...

HOWEVER...

...the point of this was not to say that people can’t ship Ozai/Ursa or that they can’t have their own headcanons or whatever. The point of this was to say that nothing in canon supports Ozai and Ursa’s marriage as being one of love and mutual respect and in fact, most of what is shown proves the exact opposite.

Ship what you want, it’s okay. Just call a spade a spade. None of this is healthy, loving, or wholesome but it IS sexy. Nothing wrong with that.

Now before someone tries to say I’m a giant hypocrite because “ew you ship Ozula, your opinion doesn’t count”, you’re still completely missing the point here. I would be the first to say that parent/child relationships are abuse, grooming, non-consensual, and morally reprehensible. I’m not out here trying to say this is an ideal relationship or that this is okay to do.

And that is the difference.

[seiyasabi]

Ripe For The Pickin’

(This is a Yandere Kita x Fem Reader Story! Hopefully y’all like this lmao, sorry if his hick accent is annoying lmao, I thought it gave him ¬flavour¬

Tw: !!noncon!, !misogyny!, breeding kink!, !Detailed postpartum depression!!!, !!!Mentions of attempted suicide and murder of a child!!!, !Mental illness!, !Defeatist attitude!, !Disassociation!,  housewife reader!, threats of physical harm!, manipulation!, mentions of kids!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution! Note: Part of my family are farmers- my grandpa specifically, and he speaks very similarly to how I wrote Kita’s dialogue (the joking bit). He had a farm in Hawaii growing up, and he always jokes that he’s ‘but a country folk,’ so I mean no offense to those who own a farm. )

Throwing down his work cap on your kitchen table, Kita visibly brightens at your busy form. Your two year old son is balanced perfectly on your hip, your other hand stirring a pot of Udon. The steam rises around your head, slightly flushing your (skin colour) complection. 

Looking up, your eyes immediately meet the white haired male’s, causing you to freeze up momentarily. He sends you a warning look. 

“Welcome Home, Shinsuke,” A wobbly grin spreads across your painted features (just how Kita liked- he likes when you try to look good for him), catching the attention of your son immediately. 

“Daddy!” He practically hops out of your hold, rushing to the large male. Your unwanted husband scoops him up in his buff arms, swinging him around. 

“Whoa, one’a these days yer gonna throw yer Pa’s back out,” He grins happily at his carbon copy, smooching the small boy on his grey hair. 

The little one giggles cutely, basking in his father’s presence. You quickly approach Kita, hugging him from the side, and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “We’ve missed you all day, My Love,” He always likes it when you’re sappy- it makes him feel wanted. 

At your words, he delivers a lingering kiss to your lip tint stained lips, your son half in your arms and half in your husband’s. You lightly pinch your babe’s cheek, causing him to giggle, before you kiss him on his forehead. Kita visibly brightens at your affectionate side, his open arm wrapping around your waist, “What’cha makin’ fer dinner, Pretty Lady?” 

You cringe internally, yet you can’t help the blush that forms on your pretty face, “Kazue wanted Udon- I hope that’s okay,” Shinsuke nods, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“‘O course,” He lightly pinches your son’s other cheek, “If our growin’ boy wants Udon, by God, he’ll get it.” 

-

Settling Kazue down in his bed, you give the sleeping boy a tender kiss on the forehead. As much as you hate Kita, you don’t have the heart to hate your son. He, like you, didn’t ask to be here, so you decided to be the best mom he could ever have. 

Smoothing his blanket over his lower body, you tuck the other bits under him, and lay his favourite stuffy next to him. Once done, you step away from the slumbering babe, and make your way out of his room. Kita is waiting in the night light lit hallway, leaning against the opposing wall. 

You jump slightly, not expecting him to be there. 

“Is something wrong, Shinsuke?” A practiced smile appears on your face, hands clasping behind your back to keep you grounded. 

He says nothing, motioning you to follow him, before turning and walking towards your shared bedroom. Shuffling after him, you try to still your rapidly beating heart. Did you do something wrong? 

Kita isn’t one to shy away from punishment. If anything, he revels in the momentary feeling of power-that is, until your broken body and mind are left in the aftermath. Then, he can’t help but feel horrible, because in some twisted way, the man truly loves you. So, he’ll try to cuddle and kiss his wrongs away, trying to forget that he’s the catalyst of all the things going wrong in your life. 

Burying those thoughts away, you step into the darkened room, noticing immediately that Kita is settled on his side of the bed. He’s stripping himself of his overshirt, exposing his wife-beater underneath, “Ya know, I think it’s time fer the boy ta have a brother.”

It feels as though the world around you is crumbling. Just when you gain a sense of normalcy, the bastard rips that away from you. 

Your smile visibly wavers, but you try to hold strong, “I-well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Your hands are trembling, your heart practically being torn from your chest, “Kazue is still a toddler, I think it would be better if he was around five. Then, he can interact with-” Kita holds up a hand, halting your speech. 

“Yer gettin’ too technical fer the simple folk in tha room, Pretty Lady,” He stands to his feet, discarding his slippers, before slipping his baggy jeans off of his lower half, “Jus’ say yer too selfish to give yer lovin’, hardworkin’ husband tha things he deserves-” 

Kita knows that you had postpartum depression. He knows that you not only almost hurt yourself, but also your precious son. He knows that you had to be sedated at one point to even continue living. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t care. 

Tears fill your eyes, as you finally let your feelings become known, “That was horrible to say, Shinsuke. You know how hard it was for me-”

“It was also hard fer me too, ya’know,” He’s doing it again… trying to manipulate you into being the bad guy, “Seein’ ya go bonkers was hard ta’ watch. Plus, seein’ our son almost drown in tha tub-” 

“Stop it!” You finally lose your cool, surprising your usually collected kidnapper, “You don’t get to claim it was hard for you, when everything is your fault!” His mouth open and closes like a dying fish, unsure what to say, “If you waited for me to be ready to have children, I wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. If I was given the help I needed, I wouldn’t have gone psychotic. If you hadn’t stolen me away from my life and forced me to bend to your will, none of this would have happened!” By now, you’re a sobbing mess. He always does this. Kita always breaks you down until you seem crazy, but you’re not. You’re just tired of how he treats you like a baby maker, tired of how he treats you like nothing, yet claims you’re his entire world. 

But, when you hear him sigh softly to himself, you know that he doesn’t care about your feelings, “Do I need to use the gag? I thought we were above that.” 

Knowing that refusal won’t be tolerated or respected, you don’t bother wasting anymore of your breath. Slipping off your house slippers, you shuck off your dress, revealing your bare chest and panties. More tears slip down your face, as you lay down on your large shared bed. 

Shinsuke grins at your compliance, quickly moving between your legs, and stripping you of your drawers. His rough fingers rub at your clit and slit, “Good girl. ‘Ya know yer man jus’ wants what’s good fer ya, an’ a baby is good fer any good woman.” 

You ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Kita continues to rub against your clit, trying to coax an orgasm out of you. But, you don’t give him the satisfaction. 

Staring at the ceiling, you let your mind go. Your dissociated body reacts well to his ministrations, your arousal coating your thighs, as they tremble in lieu of an orgasm. 

His fingers dig in deep, as they force your pussy open. Feeling how relaxed you are, he decides that you’re loose enough to go right in. 

Pulling out his thick cock, he bumps the head against your slick cunny, “Don’ worry, Darlin’, yer man will take good care of ya,” He slides in with relative ease, your hips bumping against his.  

The normal constricting feeling in your chest has long since faded, instead, the feeling of acceptance at the fact that you couldn’t get out of this replaced it. 

Your body jolts and rolls with Kita’s harsh thrusts, his panting warm against your neck, “Yer so good fer me, (Your Name), yer gonna bear me healthy sons,” The gummy walls of your pussy knead his cock thoroughly, trying to milk him for everything he’s got, “I knew you were perfect fer the takin’.” 

He forces your knees next to your head, the head of his cock bashing into your cervix painfully. Fortunately, that was enough to set your body off. A gush of cum drenches the both of you, as Kita slams himself inside of you entirely, allowing your womb to be filled to the brim with his fertile cum. 

“Ya never disappoint, Darlin’,” He smooches you on your lax lips, ignoring the fact that your head is practically empty, “Maybe you’ll have twins this time.” 

With that, he starts his hardcore pace one more. 

But, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you can drift away from the events unfolding in front of you, 

[angelicmichael]

hoax - chapter two

Michael Langdon x Mallory

Summary: Mallory tries her best to put her feelings aside and to tolerate Michael; however she finds that she gets tested in other ways that aren’t so easily predictable..

Words: 6.3k+

Warnings: more death and general mentions of it.. sorry lmao, angst, blood, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, mentions of satan and satanism, slowburn, plot heavy, enemies to lovers, also reminder that this is a dark fic so.. it’s just generally not that happy of a story lol

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry if this seems random since we just got new cody content and a new character but I thought I would just upload this anyway since it’s finished 👉🏻👈🏻. But this is also the longest thing I’ve ever written.. like ever so hopefully y’all like it haha. Also fyi; Michaels and Mallorys POV switches quite a bit throughout this chapter lol.

Previous Chapter

Michael watched Mallory intently. Looking as she continued to be lost in thought. Her gaze fixated downwards at her black boots, which twitched slightly as she continued to most likely debate whether he was worth it or not… to say yes or no..

Michael swallowed, wishing he could do something to make her say yes, to maybe offer something but after all; he had absolutely nothing. Even Michael by himself seemed to be too much of a burden on its own, to Mallory.

He let out a dry cough; hoping to bring her back to reality, back to him.

Mallory’s head snapped up - brown eyes looking up at him curiously.. as if she really did forget that he was still waiting for a response or some type of agreement. She tried her best to relax her shoulders as well as her mind before speaking. Trying to silently convince herself to not snap at him, no matter how much she still truly wanted too. However, looking at him made that far more easier..

Michaels words; the pleading and begging that Mallory was almost convinced would never stop.. The pure desperation and urgency only really reflected onto his appearance. Sandy blonde hair that nearly looked brown due to the disgusting amount of dirt in it.. clothes that were still horribly stained and nearly doused with blood made him look hardly short of intimidating anymore, but the urge to yell at him still didn’t wane.

Anger still stayed present in Mallory’s chest, but it was starting to become something she couldn’t just ignore anymore.. it flowed through her veins, hot and fresh. It made her skin warm and her cheeks flush cherry red. Something she was typically insecure about but she really didn’t have the time or patience to try and hide it.. she doubted Michael realistically was even paying close enough attention to notice anyways.

“Fine,” Mallory finally answered. Her voice was soft and low which was merely a result of her biting her anger back - something she still desperately wanted to show but knew realistically would get her no where with him.

She tried her best to avoid Michaels gaze which still stayed solely focused on her figure. He seemed almost taken aback by her words, as if he was expecting to be further yelled at.. which wasn’t exactly a wrong assumption. The only reason Mallory found it in her to be nice was merely sympathy. After all they both had a long day - it wasn’t just her discomfort she had to take into consideration anymore.

“Do you trust me?”

The words almost felt impulsive to say but she didn’t regret saying them - after all; if they were really going to be sticking around by each other for a while then.. it was a valid question.

Mallory knew realistically what he was going to say and she tried to brace herself as she saw his mouth open hesitantly.

“I feel like I should.. why?” He asked in a tone which sounded purely dismissive and a bit annoyed.

Mallory wanted to smile, she wanted to grin and laugh that she was finally starting to get what she wanted but.. she did neither of those things. Instead she found herself immeadietly distrusting him.. wanting to know why on earth she would ever think to trust his words for a second when she literally killed him in the past.. and that’s not counting the other times where she attempted to do so or even thought doing it but; this Michael didn’t know that. This Michael barely even knew her name, let alone anything else about her but that didn’t matter to him - and she couldn’t help but to be a bit relieved at that feeling of finally being able to be free from her past.

Atleast for the time being.

“I need to go somewhere but I can’t go alone.. I think it would be good if you went too.”

Michaels brows furrowed at this; his face almost upturning in a sneer. “Where?”

Mallory took in a deep breath but didn’t exhale at first.. feeling irritated that he just had to keep asking questions that she didn’t have the answer too.

“I’ll tell you later, when we get closer, okay? But we need to go before the sun sets,” she explained.

Mallory hoped desperately that what she said would be enough reason for Michael to go along with her.. but thankfully it seemed to be. Or he seemed convinced for the most part, anyway.

“What happens before the sun sets?” He asked.

His blue eyes glared into hers - as if he was trying to get a read on her.. just like how he used too at the outpost.

Mallory’s throat suddenly grew dry at this realization.. Feeling incredibly uncomfortable at how he looked at her, and his question. Not necessarily knowing what to do about either situations but - she hoped for a second he would retract his words or rephrase but he didn’t.

He still waited.

“That doesn’t matter, we just need to get going. You said you trusted me right?” Mallory reaffirmed.

Her face was mostly expressionless as she watched Michael solemnly nod in response.

“Yeah.. sure. I trust you.”

His sentence cut off almost abruptly; as if he wanted to keep talking but knew that Mallory wouldn’t have the patience to hear him out - or that she simply didn’t want too.

Michael couldn’t really pinpoint exactly how he felt around Mallory. Every time she met his gaze he couldn’t help but to be overtaken briefly by far too many emotions than he could count. It mainly was a fight over feeling intimidated and being in awe. Even though Mallory hadn’t really let her powers show since she basically assaulted him earlier; he knew to keep his distance now.. to a degree.

He approached her now; feeling a little less intimated than he was before since she seemed to be acting civil.

Michael couldn’t help but to blame her behavior on himself; maybe he was too straight forward.. maybe it was him who was the true freak in this situation.. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time that he found himself in a situation like this, another situation that was surely his fault.

God.. why was he such a fuck up??

The closer he approached.. Mallory.. she said her name was right?? He felt almost sick to his stomach when he saw the look in her eyes when she finally bothered to look up at him. Her eyes (which he remembered were a golden honey brown when she stood directly in the sun) were nearly black now.. maybe it was the fact that the sun was finally dipping behind the trees.. or.. something else? Annoyance was really the only emotion he could read from her at the moment - the rest of her face was even harder to read. He guessed she was trying to remain expressionless on purpose.

Mallory was the first one to start walking - and Michael let her lead. She seemed to have a some kind of idea on where she was going since she had claimed she said a destination in mind, or somewhere for them to go.

Hopefully that wasn’t a lie.

Mallory didn’t look back once as Michael continued to walk directly behind her once the path she had chosen to walk on had thinned down to a trail. The sound of his footsteps were good enough proof that he hadn’t wandered off or turned around. She didn’t want to necessarily look at him longer than what she had too - she was more than certain that he still wore that kicked puppy look he had earlier. It was pathetic and painful.. and only a sharp reminder of why things currently were the way they were. Why she was here; still in the forest with twigs and leaves snapping onto her overly expensive dress which now had to be ruined.. (as if it wasn’t already from Michaels death fiasco’s) and not back at Robichaux.. with the witches where she belonged. Even if none of them necessarily knew her anymore.

Mallory belonged with other witches, her sisters. People that actually understood her and gave a fuck - not.. whatever she could even call Michael now. Who was not quite human but probably not the antichrist now, either.

That was just something else that Mallory would have to do and figure out on her own but, this wasn’t something that was meant to be done solo - she knew that deep down.

Michael was following her diligently and actually listening now for a reason, she came to the forest for a reason, and as much as she tried her best to avoid thinking about it; she also talked to satan for a reason.. And even though he was mostly a manipulative asshole- no.. not mostly. That’s exactly what he was. Michael was also proof of that.

No matter what, her and Michael would figure it out together.. on their own or certaintly without the help of him. They didn’t need him, not again.. not now.. not ever. It didn’t matter if he apparently owned her soul or not - she still felt the same.. nothing could’ve changed that quickly. Right?

That’s what she would tell herself anyway - and there’s no way she would ever dream of telling Michael any of that shit ever happened. It’s not like he would remember anyway.

Mallory continued to keep her head down as they kept walking .. deep in thought and trying to focus on just finding their way out until she felt something soft brush up against the back of her arm..

Mallory immeadietly paused when she felt Michael touch her, looking at her arm almost awkwardly and bearing witness to how Michael was now gently gripping her.. Hoping naively that it was something that happened accidentally but of course it wasn’t. Nothing happened by coincidence with Michael.

He let go after a couple seconds of awkward eye contact.. most likely realizing that she wasn’t exactly a touchy person. Not with him anyway. Not after the kind of day they’ve been through.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Michael said sorely.

His voice shook when he spoke.. and even though it was tempting to ask exactly why he was apologizing - she figured it didn’t necessarily matter. At this point it was the effort and the fact he even cared enough to say anything, that made her feel a bit better.

She gave a slight smile, not really wanting to say that any of this was ‘okay’ or that it was ‘fine’ because she was truly tired of lying.. it was something she lost the energy for a while ago.

“Let’s keep going. I think we’re almost there.”

Mallory turned around to keep walking - looking up and realizing that she could finally see something beyond the tree line.. something that looked like vaguely like a skyline of a city.. Was that Los Angeles??

Biting the bullet and choosing to make small talk had its perks - Michael affirmed her suspicion that they were in L.A which was really neither a good or bad thing. She definitely felt more unsettled now that she knew for a fact she was farther away from home than she would like to be.. and also scarily close to Hawthorne, and god knows what else.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to reach the city; and now that she was here.. she really didn’t know what to do next or why she had the odd instinct to walk here in the first place, but thankfully Michael seemed to know.

It was obvious that Mallory didn’t exactly have a plan, in the way that she was starting to physically stall.. her steps slowed, her fingers fidgeted a bit more and picked at her clothes, and her gaze kept falling down to her shoes.. All little, minuscule things but Michael picked up on them all.

He didn’t bother to ask outloud if she knew where she was going. Instead he took the lead.. walking in front of Mallory suddenly and only briefly pausing to turn into a dark alleyway. Something that seemed entirely random but honestly wasn’t. He had a feeling, an urge that they were meant to go this way.. something was waiting for them both.

Michael only looked back to make eye contact for a brief moment; hoping that just for once Mallory would trust him.. but as he looked back into her dark brown eyes which still abnormally almost appeared black - she was still reluctant. He wasn’t necessarily thinking when he reached out to grab her hand. Something he knew that she would hate but he couldn’t help it. Physical touch felt nice, and her hands were soft..

They still were.

He still held onto her hand as he gently pulled and tried to lead her into where he was going - frowning slightly when he felt her grip loosen but he continued to keep walking into the alleyway. He kept going, nearly stumbling on the garbage and various shit that was left on the ground.. but he managed to find a door that was left slightly ajar.. just enough for him and Mallory to slip through.

Michael quietly opened the door further; the room that they suddenly found themselves in was barely lit. A dark, dim, red light was omitted along with several small candles but other than that, the room was kept blanketed in a thick darkness. Both physically and emotionally.

As soon as Mallory entered what she now knew had to be some kind of church.. she felt almost as if she had been punched in the stomach. She noticibly winced, physically withdrawing from Michael and reflexively pulling her hand back even further than she had previously but he wouldn’t let her hand go. Not completely.

The nausea and just the sudden heavy energy she felt made the rest of her body tense up.. and she found herself sort of being thankful that Michael still held onto her and seemed to be leading her to a seat.. but the gratitude she felt only lasted for barely a second. Just until she could actually take a deep breath and focus..

Where exactly were they?

It was clear as day that they happened to be in a church.. but no.

No.

Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right.

This wasn’t a normal church, nothing about this seemed normal in the slightest - the dark red interior and dim lighting, the candles, the late timing of the service and just.. what everyone happened to be wearing seemed horribly wrong.

Just like earlier, and so many times before today she felt herself starting to submit to panic. Her breath quickening and her skin started to grow incredibly hot.. she felt as if she was suffocating from the inside out but she felt foolish for feeling this way as she looked at Michael, as well as everyone else.. they all appeared nonchalant and completely unbothered. Particularly Michael, who didn’t look upset but instead almost caught in a trance listening to the high priestess of the church talk.

Mallory didn’t even notice the woman was talking until she finally bothered to make eye contact. Whom of which walked straight down the isle way that divided the two rows of benches apart; her blonde curls slightly moving as she spoke and moved. She continued to slowly pace up and down, speaking about.. exactly what Mallory had feared.

Fucking exactly what Mallory was trying to avoid.

The immeadite gut reaction to stand up and leave was nearly impossible to resist; and that would be incredibly easy to do given that they were sitting in a otherwise empty back row. But.. instead she didn’t move. She sat still. Barely moving, barely breathing but merely watching and listening.

Now that Mallory actually bothered to listen; she felt completely dumbfounded that Michael was actually buying any of this shit. However, that didn’t make the words that she heard coming from the blonde woman, the leader, any easier to digest. Currently she was boasting and bragging about her sins and how ‘evil’ she was.. or something along those lines. It was still nearly impossible to focus with the feeling that still layed dormant in her gut that refused to leave.

She winced at the words she heard being spoken. Her black nails curling into the soft skin of her palm and gently digging in. Something she consciously chose to do to try to distract herself but it still wasn’t enough. She needed to know that they were atleast sort of safe here.. or that Michael had a vague idea of what he was doing.

“do you know where we are?”

Michael turned to look at Mallory slowly.. looking almost furious - his lips slightly parted as if he silently debated on how to tell her off for interrupting his focus. She waited with baited breath for him to ignore her or to say some snide remark.. only exhaling when he did neither.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’re in good hands here,” He said. Barely speaking loud enough for Mallory to even hear.

She couldn’t help but to slightly pout, not wanting to argue anymore but not really trusting his judgement yet either. She waited for him to turn his head back to blonde ‘cult’ leader but instead it dropped down her to palm where her nails still cut in.. pressing down until the point where blood was about to be drawn.

Mallory didn’t wince or show any signs of discomfort but Michael still noticed anyway. His gaze quickly flickering down from her palm up to her eyes in pure confusion in what the fuck she was doing..

His hand quickly went to hers without a second thought.

His fingers gently pried hers off of her own hand.. She didn’t try to fight what he was doing but rather looked into his eyes in a questionable manner.. probably wondering why he bothered to touch her again. Something that he truly knew better than to do but couldn’t help from himself from.

“Stop.. Why are you doing that?” Michael asked genuinely. His gaze lingered on her fingertips which now had blood lightly indented on the tips of her nails.

Mallory looked at him awkwardly. Sort of appalled that he even cared enough to notice or to even stop her.. his kindness wasn’t necessarily unwanted but it was something new.. and strange to say the very least.

Mallory wanted to apologize or to just give him a reassuring look but instead she carefully met his gaze and found herself muttering a careful confession, “im sorry I just.. I can’t stand it here. This place-“ her voice broke horribly as she whispered.

She suddenly grew paranoid that the members of this.. ‘congregation’ could hear her sudden disdain for the establishment; which made the feelings of dread and guilt she felt only multiply. She wanted to keep apologizing or to convince Michael to leave but.. that wouldn’t work for the sole reason that she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly why she felt this way. But all she knew is that she had to say something else. Something to make Michael not stare her like how he currently was.

Mallory was still terrified to make eye contact with him. Only bothering to briefly do so to simply affirm that he was actually looking at her - and it wasn’t something she was imagining.

Reality was starting to become something Mallory nearly craved; the day still wasn’t over and yet the fact that some of the earlier events weren’t real.. was something she still needed to process.

The fact that Michael even dared to follow her here, sit next to her, and let alone even give a fuck that she was unintentionally harming herself was beyond her. She wanted to know why, but she knew she still wouldn’t trust his answer if she were to ask. He’d lie.

Mallory spoke again in a tone that was far more quiet than the last, “Where are we?”

Michaels gaze bore into hers.. his face nearly void of any expression as if he was weighing his options on the best response.. calculating and thinking but he stopped the eye contact before he spoke. His eyes went to examine his hands instead which were loosely clasped together over his knees that he slouched tiredly over.

“Somewhere I thought I could feel close to my father.. I know- you don’t want to talk about it-“

“No.. it’s fine,” Mallory reassured hurriedly. Her voice was light and high pitched - happy that Michael was finally managing to communicate and be honest with her. Even if he was inherently right, this wasn’t a topic she wanted to remember or discuss at all but if this was how she got him to open up.. then there was no other option.

“Before you ask.. no. It’s not working. I don’t feel shit here,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “All I feel is just fucking overwhelmed.”

His hands were brought up to his face and Mallory watched him deeply inhale. His finger tips rubbed his temples and fell down the sides of his cheeks - and Mallory didn’t know what to do.

Should she offer him sympathy that.. as bad as it sounded, that she didn’t necessarily really feel? Sure she could relate to him but it wasn’t in the same way in the slightest - and it wasn’t fair to either of them to pretend that it was.

“People here are beyond pathetic.. their sins,” he sneered with something that almost could’ve been considered an chuckle that followed.

Michaels hands fell down to his lap again - suddenly refusing to meet Mallory’s gaze. Perfectly intent on watching whoever the high priestess was, someone that Mallory was more than thankful that she didn’t know the name of.

“Michael.. I can’t stay here-“

He gave Mallory an apologetic look, and for a second she thought he might almost finally agree but to no avail.

“Please. Just ‘till the end,” His face reverted back to the kicked puppy look. The one that finally made her not necessarily forgive him but.. made her realize that at this point he didn’t necessarily deserve to be yelled at.

After all, he wasn’t exactly the same Michael that had planned the death of seven billion people.. not yet.

“Okay,” she quietly agreed.

So they waited until the end of the ‘ceremony’. Or Mallory waited while Michael watched and listened- looking both completely horrified and elated as he did so.. However, Mallory waited and counted each minute that passed.. every one seemingly longer the last.

Even when the blonde woman that was apparently named ‘Hannah’ finally finished talking and most members of the congregation had left; Michael still didn’t budge.

His back, instead of slouching was now pressed up against the bench as he sat.. looking for exhausted and more tired than ever. Tears (or what Mallory suspected were tears anyway) made his cheeks glisten in the dim lighting. She stared at him for a moment - wondering if she should ask if he was okay or if he needed a moment when she felt someone suddenly tug sharply on her clothing.

It was her top, a quick pinch but it was enough to make Mallory’s head turn back immeadietly.

Her resentment toward touch wasn’t just exclusive to Michael, then.

“What is this? Chanel? Loui V? Do I want to know what it took for you to take this?” Hannah spoke in a amused tone.

Hannah stood behind their bench, both equally between Mallory and Michael - like she had the intention of speaking to them both and not one or the other.

“I didn’t take this.. it was a gift,” Mallory answered truthfully and a bit.. bashfully.

She felt insulted that Hannah assumed she would ever steal but then again, with where they were, maybe that wasn’t exactly the insult that Mallory thought it was.

“Yeah.. okay. Like I’m supposed to believe that,” Hannah laughed with a snort.

Mallory was about to retort anyway, but Michael cut her off to her surprise.

“What do you want?” He asked curtly.

His words were cut short. Obviously irritated and put on edge - the fact that he still had tears left on his cheeks explained his behavior plenty.

Hannah immeadietly looked taken aback - disobedience wasn’t something she was used too.

“What do you I want? Do you even know who you’re talking too?” Hannah answered without missing a beat.

Mallory’s eyes darted to Michael. His jaw was clenched, his eyes sharp and focused and his mouth was drawn in a straight line that slightly curved downward.. he looked pissed.

Why was he bothering to argue with Hannah? Someone who he should inherently love or atleast respect with the shared connection of their love for his father.. And over something as trivial as Mallory’s dress? This wasn’t making sense..

“I think I could say the same to you,” Michael answered with a clenched jaw, standing up as his hands started to go to the left side of his face. Inevitably headed for his ‘666’ mark that Mallory heard he was rumored to have.. but certainly wouldn’t have anymore. Not after what she had done.

Michael.. couldn’t. He wouldn’t. This couldn’t happen.

It was clear he was still under the false impression that he had powers, but Mallory wasn’t going to let him find out otherwise this way. Not right now.

“Michael-“! Mallory said urgently.

It worked for a second, just long enough to make him stall.

His hands came to a stand still, pausing as his eyes watched her. Waiting for her to continue but her mouth went entirely dry once she saw Hannah’s hand quickly fly to his shoulders. Screaming words that Mallory didn’t even try to listen too - blood suddenly roaring through her ears louder than any sound that Hannah could make.

Mallory didn’t think when she suddenly felt herself stepping in front of Michael; her feet accidentally stepping onto his as she tried her best to push him back beforehand with her arm but even so - the space in between benches was minimal enough as it was.

Maybe under normal circumstances, Michaels body being pushed up directly behind hers would’ve been distracting but.. Michael was really the last thing she was thinking of now.

Mallory’s hands flew to Hannah’s shoulders - grabbing them (and feeling almost sick with herself how she had done this to Michael not too long ago) with the intention to push her back as hard as she could naturally muster up the strength too. But, of course, that didn’t happen.

Her powers came flooding out unwillingly - the sudden loss of control and ache that was rapidly being released caused her to scream.. something that almost sounded quiet with the contrast of her adrenaline still pumping full force.

Hannahs clothes suddenly sparking a bright orange didn’t cause the immeadite alarm to Mallory that it should’ve; however.. maybe it was due to the fact that the color already blended in with the red atmosphere of the church.. She could only hope.

Hannah’s clothes quickly erupted in flames - the close proximity of the fire made Mallory’s skin quickly grow uncomfortably hot. Forcing her to act on impulse. Selfish impulse.

She stumbled out from the bench and grabbed Michaels wrist clumsily, nearly dragging with him with her as they both stumbling back and away from her.

Mallory’s back was turned to Hannah.. her body shook as she hauntingly realized that the sound had stopped. Hannah wasn’t screaming anymore.. and neither was Mallory.

She couldn’t bring herself to turn around and look, only braving enough strength to look up at Michael who faced the general direction that Hannah was in.. or used to be in. She stared into his eyes and watched the reflection of the fire dance in them - not in wonder but rather pure dread and regret.

Fuck.. what the fuck?

Michaels expression was something she couldn’t really decipher.. the fact he wore a neutral face when she just.. had done something like this wasn’t going to be something she found solace in.

After all; he was still Michael Langdon.

And what she just did.. saying it was stupid wasn’t simply enough.

Forming more complex thoughts was simply impossible, she found herself stumbling away.. going the opposite direction as the room started to spin and melt into a blur of red and black. The ceiling, walls and floor quickly became indistinguishable - her legs were starting to feel weak..

Fuck!

Mallory’s vision flickered to black and her legs gave out from underneath her; but she felt someone’s arms hook underneath hers and pull her up before she could hit the floor.

Her eyes snapped open immeadietly - trying to balance herself back on her feet as quickly as she could so that Michael wouldn’t have to touch her.. still feeling entirely out of it from nearly losing consciousness.

Mallory knew immeadietly it was him without even having to look… and she hated that she was becoming familiar enough with his touch to even recognize that it was him so easily. The tempature of his skin - his palms gripping her upper arms a bit too tightly - was a dead giveaway.

She wanted him off.

Mallory stumbled forward, trying her best to appear nonchalant as she brushed his fingertips off of her arms. Trying not to look bothered by the smell that started to raid the church.. a mix of burnt flesh along with just general fire. She wanted to feel bad but if this really was a satanic temple; it probably had seen worse..

But that wasn’t the point.

Mallory’s gaze searched the walls, wanting to leave but not.. actually leave.

It was too much; she needed time alone. Time to maybe cry or to throw up until she couldn’t breath.. perhaps both, but she still didn’t want Michael to see her vulnerable. Not if she could help it.

Her hands gripped onto the sides of the benches as she passed them; stubbornly intent on walking on to the bathroom which she could now see - selfishly not giving a fuck that she would be leaving Michael but.. she deserved to be selfish for once.

After all, all her choices recently hadn’t been for her own sake.. it was for Cordelias, Madison’s, Zoe’s, The Coven, seven billion people, Michael.. but not her own. Never her own.. none of her choices were really her own lately.

Mallory tried her best to ignore the sound of footsteps following her. Pushing the door of the women’s bathroom open quickly but stopping once she heard Michael whine.

God, why was he always fucking whining?

“What the fuck was that?” He nearly hissed. His tone had no malicious intent but it still set Mallory on edge.

He looked alarmed, bewildered. Blue eyes widened and his lips slightly parted, his teeth clenched.

“What part?” She asked cynically with a dry laugh.

She met Michaels gaze for a second before fully slipping inside the bathroom - hoping Michael would get the memo to leave her alone but she paused once she didn’t hear the door shut behind her..

“Michael-“

“I know you don’t like talking to me but I’m asking you, just once. What the fuck just happened?? Did you-?” His voice quivered, breaking softly as he spoke.

Mallory was in tears, the thought and realization alone of what she did finally sinking in.

“No. No.. I-I didn’t.. that wasn’t me, okay? I would.. would never..” She spoke as a confirmation to both Michael and herself.

Her back was still turned to Michael - thankful that he couldn’t see how fucking close she was to full on sobbing.. her vision blurred by all of the tears that had gathered in her eyes that wouldn’t spill. Her throat clenched, growing tight and forcing her to stop breathing - but there was no way she was going to let herself cry in front of Michael out of all people.

Showing weakness, even now.. even when it was proven he was no longer a threat to her, was never something she would let herself do. She wouldn’t let herself become that stupid.

Pain centered itself in her chest, but the grief she felt, rapidly spread throughout her body. Consuming her until she felt herself succumbing to the feeling.

Fuck.

Mallory wanted to push past Michael and run out the door.

Mallory wanted to scream at him and tell him to get the fuck out of the women’s restroom.

It was so easy to blame him for everything she felt - but she knew better than that now. Even though it was easy; it wasn’t the right thing to do.. and it’s not really like she was used to take the easy route to things, anyway.

She didn’t exactly welcome the feeling but she gave up trying to fight it.. letting the first tear run down her cheek. She still tried her best to stifle her sobs, her throat still clenching almost painfully.. not really giving a fuck about showing weakness in this moment but more so just.. embarrassed.

Michael stared at her almost blankly - wanting to say something but he couldn’t help but to feel stuck.

He wanted to feel bad, and he did.. she was clearly hurt but he didn’t understand exactly how.. Did she feel remorse for what she did? Did she think that Hannah or whatever the fuck her name was, didn’t deserve it?

Sure he didn’t exactly know her intentions but it wasn’t anything pure.. and Mallory needed to know that.

He approached her carefully, knowing damn well that she had the capability to do the same that she had done to Hannah.. or to perhaps throw him up against the wall without even so much as laying a hand on him, but he wasn’t scared.

Mallory wasn’t intimidating.. she wouldn’t hurt him.

Her head was tilted up and her eyes watched the ceiling - avoiding eye contact. She slowly moved to the wall, leaning against it begrudgingly but still avoiding Michaels gaze. Patches of dirt and bruises decorated her arms along with some blood stains and a couple of nasty cuts. Her black dress looked like nothing special anymore. It was torn in some parts but - Michael wanted to laugh that he was critiquing her appearance in the slightest as if he had any room to talk.

He watched her carefully and curiously as he decided to stand next to her and mirror how she was standing until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Mallorys eyes which were previously closed suddenly opened. Darkly peering over at him and their sudden proximity, something Michael wasn’t going to apologize for this time.

“I still don’t understand you, or why you did what you did but it was completely unnecessary,” Michael said.

He felt flattered that Mallory was fond of him enough to apparently kill for him but - this wasn’t adding up. And plus, Michael still had his powers (or atleast to the best of his knowledge he did) so it’s not as if he was completely defenseless. He felt almost insulted that Mallory would assume that he needed to be protected. He wasn’t a child.

But didn’t she hate him? She could still barely make eye contact with him and resented every time they touched - something which hurt Michael a bit more than he would like to admit.. No one (except for his family, of course) had ever reacted to him like that before.. most people, espically women, practically died for his touch.

Mallory was different.

That was one thing he was certain of. Every move she made, every word that came out of her mouth was never something he could predict.. and to think he once hated unpredictability.. but he didn’t trust her. Not for one second.

“It wasn’t a choice. I-I just.. it just happened and I don’t want to talk about it,” Mallory answered sheepishly.

Michael wanted to argue but instead he merely nodded.

“That’s fine.”

Mallory looked at him almost apologetically after she heard the tone of his words; which were a bit too harsh and forced in nature.

“So.. did it work? What you came here for.. to feel closer to him-“ She asked out of sheer curiosity.

“My father?”

“Yes.”

Michael swallowed and broke eye contact. “No. I still don’t feel a fucking thing.. Do you?”

Mallory’s eyes narrowed and she shifted her weight back onto her feet, ceasing from leaning on the wall. “What?”

“My father sent you to me, so I figured naturally you would have some kind of connection with him.. you do, don’t you?”

Sneaky bastard. Mallory knew this conversation was for the sole purpose of him finding out more information about her; perhaps to better manipulate? She didn’t exactly know.

“I don’t know. That’s something I still have to figure out,” she admitted truthfully.

“Together?”

Mallory nodded.

“Yeah. I won’t leave you,” she said. Her tone a bit softer than she would have liked.

Mallorys lips started to upturn in something that was reminiscent of a smile - their eyes lingered on each other for only a second but it didn’t last.

The door suddenly was pushed open; both Mallory and Michael snapped their heads up. The sudden intrusion gaining both of their full undivided attention - fear both running abundant in their veins.

The first thing Mallory noticed was the loud clicking of high heels against the tile floor of the bathroom.. something she was sure meant nothing to Michael but.. Mallory knew better.

This wasn’t a coincidence. After the day she had - nothing was a damn coincidence anymore.

The first thing she noticed was long blonde hair.. a black, tight fitting dress along with black high heels.

It was too familiar.. she knew all too well exactly who this fucking was.

Another witch.. her sister.. someone she was far too accustomed too but also.. no.

No.

Sure the woman who just entered the bathroom was Madison Montgomery but it wasn’t her Madison. After all, why the fuck was Madison at a satanic temple?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instinctsxbaby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist <3

[everything-laito]

the FBI agent looking at my computer must be so incredibly concerned. Here’s Laito and Cordelia analysis, Part II

Hiya, Corn here! This is Part II of this analysis series! Part one’s here! 

Not getting into the trauma part of it yet. Just explaining abusive power dynamics and how incestuous relationships work. As well as Stockholm syndrome. Lovely! Lovely combo! Fuck!!!

Same trigger warnings as last time still apply!

As always, rant under the cuuuuut!

Ok, from last time, we’ve established the elements that were set in place for Cordelia to do this to Laito, when Laito’s trauma began, and the possible fact that he was groomed as a child for sexual exploitation. Wow. Yay. Amazing. This is so gross!!! Thanks, I hate it!!!! I know I usually cary these topics with just an informational tone but I just can’t with this ;lskfjklsajf But I’m here typing this, you’re here reading this, so let’s just get on with the grossness!

Section 3: Legal Definitions of Incest and Power Dynamics 

Now we’re gonna get into the flesh of the problem, and what we know happened. From last time, and common DL knowledge, Laito was coerced into having sex with Cordelia. I say coerced, rather than forced, because it’s not like Laito seemed to resist it. He seems to “willingly” give Cordelia that. Is dubious consent, consent? Oh fuck no, and dubious or coerced consent shouldn’t even count in here considering it’s straight up incest. Any type of incest, most especially between a parent and a child, is not considered consensual, even if it “technically is.” That’s how it’s handled in a court of law, at least in America (where I’m from and reside in), and I do agree with that morally as well. A “romantic” and sexual relationship between a parent (or adult family member; aunt, grandfather, etc) and a child (is just gross) preys upon the power dynamic between them. This isn’t any consensual BDSM power dynamic (obviously), or a constructive power dynamic in the workplace; it’s just a power dynamic already instilled into the relationship where it is taken advantage of. That’s not just fucked up incest, that’s an example of a toxic relationship from the get go. Also, there’s a power dynamic usually between a parent and child, but that doesn’t mean it’s always toxic. It just needs to be done responsibly, which good parents (or any adult in power) know how to maneuver around it and not take advantage of it for manipulation etc. 

In healthy relationships, you both start on equal ground. It usually never works out if you don’t see the other as an equal, whether you have a predisposed power dynamic at the beginning or not. I’m talking any relationship; family relationships, friendships, romantic, sexual, etc. Although you older folks might know about BDSM and how there’s a “power dynamic” instilled in the relationship, a chosen and consensual “power dynamic” still involves both parties seeing the other one as an equal––intrinsically. It’s just very different than a predisposed power dynamic. That even goes with friendship too! Or any kind of healthy, nontoxic social interaction! Taken directly from Psychology Today, “Shared power creates happy individuals and satisfying interactions.” People need to be on equal ground in order to have a healthy relationship. Which,,,, we know does not happen with Cordelia and Laito (and Laito and Yui for that matter, but that’s during another part of this series). An article I saw during the research of this explains further about how power dynamics can be constructive. This focuses more on the workplace, but it applies to this because it’s looking at the other person as another person (an equal) but uses that predisposed power for encouragement, empowerment, and constructiveness (like a good parent or adult role model would do). I hope this makes sense!

Basically Cordelia is abusing her power in order to do all this to Laito. That’s why grooming would make a lot of sense in this as well, because we know it’s definitely not the first time Cordelia has taken advantage of a power imbalance to her own selfish benefit. That’s why incest isn’t really explained with the same science as pedophilia. I forget if I’ve mentioned it before, but one way pedophilia can occur in a person if their brain was originally biologically wired in a way that sees children as sexual objects. With incest, it could also work like that as well, but it is mainly power abuse, like most sexual exploitation, harassment, assault, etc is. 

Section 4: Incest (I’d make a sweet home Alabama joke but that’s low hanging fruit)

Ok so now that we’ve gone over the legality of incest, and how power dynamics can be taken advantage of, we’re gonna look into the type of incest (yes apparently there are types) that Cordelia and Laito fits into. Also if this already wasn’t clear or anything, hi incest and pedophilia etc are forms of abuse, there is no justifying it at all. It’s abuse, no matter what’s said. I know these are fictional characters but I sometimes see Ayato x Cordelia and Laito x Cordelia etc posts and I kinda just wanna commit heinous crimes whenever I see that. Just the idea of that absolutely sickens me (on top of the abuse shown in DL already). Anyways, after all of that out of the way, let’s go into this. 

Since Laito is biologically 17, I’d say that he’s considered as a child (teenager) by demon world standards. We don’t know his age when Cordelia first physically exploited him, but we do know that his same “teenage” sprite is used during the flashbacks. Since his trauma fits so well with the aftermath definition of parent/child incest, I’m just gonna give y’all information on that. This is also called “child incestuous abuse,” which is also a form of child sexual abuse. 

I learned an interesting factoid researching this, and that is in Japan, the most commonly believed incestuous relationship was between mothers and sons. In the West, we think of fathers/daughters. In Japan, the media covers more on mother/son incestuous acts; while statistically, more father/daughter incestuous acts are taken place. Just something interesting(?) I found, and probably why DL chose that for storytelling too. 

In this Wikipedia article, taken from a scientific paper (I’d take it directly from the source but you need an account to get in and I think you need to pay for it), it says this:

A study of victims of father–daughter incest in the 1970s showed that there were "common features" within families before the occurrence of incest: estrangement between the mother and the daughter, extreme paternal dominance, and reassignment of some of the mother's traditional major family responsibility to the daughter.

Sure, this talks about father/daughter incestuous relationships, but if we take this and reverse most of the roles, it shows Laito’s situation to a T:

Estrangement between Karlheinz and Laito 

Extreme maternal dominance (aka Cordelia being very abusive/manipulative)

Reassignment of some of the parental responsibility to Laito (there’s many examples of “big bro Laito,” and Ayato and Kanato considers that they used Laito as a “sacrifice”––as a “shield” for the both of them. Sure this isn’t explicit parental responsibility shown through Laito but I’d say he acts more like a family member to Ayato and Kanato too)

Section 5: Stockholm syndrome? With parental figures? 

Laito had some interesting situations occur during this whole thing with Cordelia. One of the most infamous scenes from the game (that’s also illustrated in the HDB manga) is a flashback Laito has where he’s locked up, forced to see Cordelia and Richter have sex. He’s appalled by the fact at first, but then attempts to convince himself that he’s into it. However, I won’t get into the effects until the next part. 

I didn’t find much about Stockholm syndrome being in this specific case with incest and kidnapping a child etc. When you look up Stockholm syndrome related to parents you get quite the sexist “article” that definitely mocks the whole Stockholm syndrome thing and makes fun of guys being into Glee and such,,,, so that wasn’t a very helpful article. However, I’m just gonna mish mash and put a lot of concepts that we’ve learned together. But first, a look into Stockholm syndrome.

Stockholm syndrome occurs when an abuse victim develops empathy or even intimate feelings for their abuser or captor. This happens because any bit of kindness the abuser enacts towards their victim is taken so positively, that the victim “forgets” all the negative actions, and focuses on the positive ones. This isn’t some sort of “oh ya gotta think positive!” kind of thing, it’s how abusers get away with their bullshit and how someone can be so trapped in a relationship with them. It’s also called traumatic bonding or victim brainwashing (source). This doesn’t always happen with people who are held hostage, like in Stockholm syndrome’s name origin.

A parent’s influence can be a strong one. Doesn’t even have to be related to by blood. But a figure that is supposed to be nurturing—whether they are or not—still has power over the “child.” He definitely went through Stockholm Syndrome himself with Cordelia, considering the grooming and the “love”/hate relationship he has with Cordelia. I did some more digging, and apparently Stockholm Syndrome can still occur more commonly with sexually abused victims. Which we all know he is. With the possible grooming, on top of the power abuse and sexual abuse, creates an incredibly toxic concoction. Here we go. The (rotten) cherry on top. Directly from my HDB notes, here’s a snippet from his Maniac Prologue: 

Cordelia: Nnn…Hey, Laito. You are a good boy. Laito: …!! Cordelia: Right, Laito? Laito: Yeah, that’s right. I’m…I’m a good boy after all.  ーー Besides, I’m the type of person who only get more aroused from this kind of thing.

(from my notes:) Basically Laito convinces himself to be a “cuckhold.” It’s definitely implied how he just wants approval from Cordelia; this is how this abuse prolongs. 

(Also, if I ever said that Laito was locked up by Cordelia, my bad; it was Karlheinz who gave that order. I’m unsure where I ever said this, but I feel like I said it before, so I’m gonna clarify that right now too, oops! My memory hath failed me.)

Cordelia’s praise effects Laito in such a visceral way that he tries so hard to cope with the trauma in her favor. It’s incredibly messed up. But that’s the defining factor in this. From this, I do believe Laito has Stockholm syndrome on top of all of his issues. 

I think I’m gonna end it here for now. Didn’t expect to be this long, oops. Stay tuned for next time, where I’m gonna go over Laito’s trauma and how he’s been effected by it. Thanks for reading, FBI agent! And oh, you as well, dear reader! 

If you’ve read this far holy fuck I commend you -Corn

[lizardkingeliot]

So, do those of you currently reading time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) remember that scene in chapter 4 where Quentin shows up for his tutoring session and Eliot says he wants to go to the edge of the campus and manipulate the magic of the wards so they can fly? You know... this one:

Only they never end up making it there because they start bickering the second they leave the library? Well, in the rough draft of this chapter I initially had this scene... ending very differently. And they also weren’t going to fly, they were going to... well. I think I’ll just let y’all read it for yourselves lmao. I think I talked about this a bit on twitter when I was working on the chapter so if it sounds familiar that’s probably why. ANYWAY. I have a ton of deleted scenes from this fic, most of which will never see the light of day, but I woke up this morning with the urge to share at least part of this one so... I guess that’s what I’m going to do.

This is super rough and unedited and honestly not up to my usual standards, but... you know. Rough drafts tend to be that way. It’s also all over the place in terms of tone and where they were at this point in the fic lmao. This might be bordering on crack honestly. Which is why I just scrapped the whole thing and went a different route in the final draft. Anyway. Shutting up now. This is about 2k words so I’m putting most of it under a cut...

—

Trudging across campus two paces behind Eliot, Quentin was stricken by the overwhelming feeling that he was trapped inside a dream. The eerie, quiet campus, lit only by the waning moon and a few dots of light spilling from the various student houses. He looked back over his shoulder, spotting the Cottage in the distance, the dim orange glow of the front bay window swimming in his vision like a boat lost at sea. 

As they approached the outer edge of the grounds, Quentin could feel the magic of the wards, buzzing on the air like insects. Bone-deep reverberations, strains of music swelling from within. He’d never been out this far before. The line where Brakebills ended and the real world began. Where there was nothing but the boat house and the wind. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He breathed in deep, the scent of the Hudson rushing nearby filling his senses as Eliot came to a sudden halt in the dark.

“Here,” Eliot said. Quentin could only just barely make out the shape of his elegant fingers pointing just ahead. “Can you feel the energy? I guess the Naturalists come out here sometimes and use it to light their bongs.” He laughed, a sound that warmed Quentin underneath his jacket at once. “And occasionally singe their own eyebrows off in the process.”

Quentin looked back. They’d come out to a place that the light from the Cottage couldn’t reach. Eliot formed an orb between his hands and pinned it overhead, a grapefruit sized pendant of magic swaying gently in the breeze. He stepped into Quentin’s personal space, giving him the once over. Head-to-toe and back again, settling at last on Quentin’s eyes.

“So,” he said with a smirk. “Cavaleri Animation. My memory of the First Year curriculum is a little hazy, but they’ve dazzled you all with that one already, yes? Turning your marbles into little glass animals, you know the one.”

Quentin nodded. “Yeah, um… but Alice was the only one who could actually get hers to work.”

Swift and warm as a pulse, Eliot’s hand curled around the nape of Quentin’s neck. Heat spreading down the column of his spine like a flame catching a wick. Thumb teasing over burning flesh. Eliot’s lips ghosted over his ear, not quite touching. Still, Quentin swore he could feel his smile. “Well,” he said, soft and dark, “I’m here now. And you’re going to do it. And it’s going to work.”

Quentin’s hand was bunching up the back of Eliot’s cardigan. He didn’t know when that had happened. The hum of the magic was making him dizzy. For a moment, it was impossible to breathe. His body a tight line of tension and desire. Eliot pulled away and Quentin released his hold, staggering a little as he tried to regain some semblance of control.

“Um, okay…” Quentin ran a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt at centering himself. “Why, uh—why do we have to do that here? We could have just done that spell in the library.”

“Because,” Eliot said with a tip of his head, “I have a theory.”

“A theory?” Quentin frowned. “You brought me out here for a theory?”

“More of a hypothesis really,” Eliot said with a wave of his hand. “But I think it’s going to work.”

“Great,” Quentin said with an exasperated sigh. “Dicking around with unstable magic in the middle of the night. What could possibly go wrong.”

“Look, it’s going to be fun,” Eliot said with that casual little air of his. “And we probably won’t explode even if I’m wrong. So we really don’t have very much to lose.”

“Okay, I’m—” Quentin threw his hands up. “For fuck’s sake, El, can you just tell me what we’re actually doing out here?”

“We,” Eliot said very slowly, reaching inside his cardigan, pulling a sliver of magenta colored glass out of the pocket of his vest, and looking through it, “are going to tap into all that crazy energy and make your little glass marble friend into a very big animal friend and take it for a spin.” He passed the sliver of glass over to Quentin. “Take a look.”

Quentin stared at Eliot for a very long time before relenting. “You’re actually a crazy person, you know that?”

“I think you mean certified sorcerer genius, but I’ll take it.” He gestured with a nod of his head. “Go on. It’s balls to the wall out here. So much energy we could power a fucking nuclear reactor and I doubt Henry would notice.”

Quentin looked through the glass, moving it from one eye over to the other. At first, it was impossible to make sense of what he was actually seeing. A latticework of stars. Billions of them it seemed, all bumping up against one another in a wild, cosmic dance. A galaxy of intersecting lines and patchwork patterns shimmering like the wings of a dragonfly. And every now and then, a spark. Popping off into the dark like fingers desperate for the night. Quentin handed the glass back to Eliot with a shake of his head.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Don’t be boring, Quentin,” Eliot said. It made Quentin’s chest ache with its normalcy. Like their past couldn’t touch them out here. Like out here with their bad ideas and their wild magic, maybe they could have some hope to start again. “But maybe… maybe don’t make anything that wants to bite our heads off.”

“Okay, so…” Quentin sighed with his whole chest. “To recap: you want to steal unstable magic from the wards of the school where we’re both currently students to make a giant glass animal that hopefully doesn’t swallow us whole so we can… take it for a ride?”

“Yes,” Eliot said, like it was the most obviously brilliant thing in the world. “Don’t make that face with your face. Tell me you’ve never wanted to ride a rhinoceros.”

“We are not riding a rhinoceros, Eliot. Absolutely not.” 

“Well, okay…” Eliot’s hand on his nape again. Heat, fire, a five alarm blaze encircling his neck like a collar. “If you could ride on any animal, real or imaginary—”

“The Cozy Horse,” Quentin said without thinking, heart pounding like hoofbeats trapped inside his chest. “Um… it’s from the Fillory books, uh…”

Eliot laughed softly. “Okay.” His hand slid down to Quentin’s shoulder, gripping it possessively. “Tell me about... the Cozy Horse.”

“Um…” Quentin squeezed his eyes shut, took a breath, shook his head. Eliot’s hand was stroking up and down the expanse of his upper arm and shoulder, making everything go all fuzzy in his brain. “It’s just, uh… it’s this horse that Jane rode on. It’s, uh… really tall. Like a hundred feet. Like a clydesdale on steroids.”

“You won’t ride a rhinoceros but you’re perfectly fine with a horse that’s a hundred feet tall?”

Quentin turned his face upward, trapping himself in Eliot’s gaze. Sinking, flying, falling. Close enough to kiss if he only went up on his toes a little. Tucked inside the safety of his warmth. Quentin wanted to burn, to melt into a puddle at Eliot’s feet and slosh around like muck. “I…” Quentin swallowed. “I don’t think the Cozy Horse would hurt us. It’s basically a giant stuffed animal.”

Eliot grinned, gazing down at Quentin for a long beat before pulling away. “Okay then,” he said, taking a few steps down the path under their feet. “Show me Cozy Horse.”

Quentin reached into his pocket, knelt down, set the marble on the path. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to… harness the magic of the wards.”

Eliot made a circle with his thumb and forefinger, peering through it with one eye. “Just leave that part to me,” he said absently. “Go on. Make your horse. And don’t say you can’t do it. We both know that you can.”

Quentin gazed up the long line of Eliot’s body. Eliot was fully focused on the wards. The sound of night, the crackle of magic. Quentin shivered under his jacket. His hands hovered over the marble, focusing his energy on prepping the glass for transformation with Dempsey's Silent Thermogenesis. Once molten, the marble could be manipulated into almost any shape he could imagine. For the Cozy Horse, Quentin didn’t have much to go on but the memory of a single illustration, and a few lines from The Wandering Dune, but he figured it would probably be simple enough. How hard could it be to imagine a draft horse the size of something straight out of the Cretaceous period?

Quentin twisted the glass under his fingers, so fully focused on his task he almost didn’t notice when Eliot began to move. When, suddenly, through the loop of Eliot’s fingers, a beam of sharp, frenzied magic began to focus on the animal he had half-formed with laser precision.

“You might wanna hurry,” Eliot said. “I don’t know how long I can hold this here.”

Quentin scowled in his direction, looping a bit of the molten glass into the shape of a tail. “You’re shit at communicating, you know that,” he spit, letting the gentle rage rising in his belly fuel his magic. “I thought cooperative magic was supposed to be, I don’t know… cooperative?”

Legs, hooves, the gentle slope of a hulking animal’s back. The wispy tendrils of a mane. Eliot was saying something that might have been a warning. Quentin was too focused on his creation to parse a single one of his words. The magic of the wards cracked like lightning. He could feel it in his hands. Quickly, almost as an afterthought, Quentin gave the beast that had come to life beneath his fingers a shimmering loop around the back of the neck that might have passed for reins if he squinted.

A single hoofbeat on the soft ground. The beam of magic stuttering through Eliot’s fingers died away, and he let out a tremendous sigh.

“Okay so... “ Quentin frowned, eyes flitting from the tiny glass horse up to Eliot’s face. “I don’t think this is going to—”

A flash, a pop, a tremendous wave of heat knocking the air from his lungs. Quentin shoved his body backward off the path and into the grass just as Eliot was running over. Kneeling down, using himself as a makeshift shield as he pushed Quentin further back away from the molten monstrosity shifting and morphing and doubling, tripling, quadrupling in size. A deep rumble, the tinkling of glass. Quentin peered over Eliot’s shoulder, his eyes moving up, up, up, trying to take in what it was he was actually seeing.

The glass horse shook out its mane, rearing up on its hind legs and down again with an earth-trembling thud. The distance from the ground to its shoulder must have been twenty feet. It had no eyes and no mouth, but Quentin swore he could feel its glassy stare boring into him. The light of the orb dangling overhead passed right through the center of its body. For a long moment, everything went perfectly still.

And then Eliot started to laugh. “Holy shit,” he said, his eyes wide as dinner plates when he turned his face to Quentin. “That is a big fucking horse.”

A laugh sputtered out from between Quentin’s lips. “Yeah, um… yeah. Fuck. It really is.”

Eliot’s body pressed right up against Quentin’s body when he turned, and leaned in, so close they were almost kissing. A pulse of heat passed between them. Quentin felt it in his chest like a second heart. “So,” Eliot said, a hand curling around Quentin’s cheek for a fleeting moment before pulling away. “You wanna take her for a spin?”

Quentin felt absolutely out of his mind. Hazy, his body a liminal space. “Yeah,” he said with a short, stuttering burst of laughter. “Yeah, why the fuck not.”

Unreality set in hard as they stood and cautiously approached. Up close, they might as well have been gazing upward at the hulking glass back of a dinosaur. The haphazard reins Quentin had created looped around the beast’s neck like a string of fairy lights. 

“Um…” Quentin laughed, tucking a tuft of hair behind his ear. “How the fuck are we even going to get on this thing?”

Eliot took his hand suddenly, threading their blood-warm fingers together. “Oh, Q,” he said with a full-faced grin, “we’re gonna fucking fly.”

[diamondcamefromhell]

Blood Moon

Part One of the Blood Moon series

A/N: for A/N see after the fic

Blood Moon summary: Lena (pronounced as Le-na, not Leena) is a renounced witch, a grisha feared. Aleksander goes by many names, not many of which ring true. The pair is similar in more ways than one, but also as different as can be. One seeks power, another fears what the hunger might cost them both, however there is something about the darkness that invited them both. They meet in the middle, where the world collides. 

Important info: this takes place before the shadow and bone/six of crows, before there even is a shadow fold, and there isnt that much information about grishaverse in those times (note i havent looked much outside what books provide) i am taking a lot of creative freedom with it!

enjoy!

Lena wasn‘t sure how she ended up here, but she knew better than to ask questions. Aleksander, as she knew him, was a kind man. To her. Or maybe she was just one more foolish girl to him, whichever it was, he had accepted her for who she was.

A blood witch, many called her. All across Ravka and even beyond. They both had extraordinary talents, but for whatever reason, Aleksander was more accepted than her. Or, as accepted as grisha could be in these times. However, Lena remembered making the King himself kneel before her, then downing his entire army to do the same.

The power she felt, the name she earned. She used to wear lifeless colours, blending in, but she wore deepest of reds now, which seemed to be more fitting. It matched Aleksanders black attire quite nicely.

She counted herself lucky to even know him by that name, as he would never use it nowadays. He was known as something else, a shadow just passing through.

Aleksander was looking at the girl now, remembering his own mother, who once pretended to go by that name too – just like Lena did now. To him, she was Telyna, but for many reasons she didn’t like sharing, she despised that name.

Telyna was who she was before she became worthy of being a blood witch, it was a time of drowning and fear and pain. She broke through, but it cost her greatly, sometimes she wondered if it cost her humanity herself.

Aleksander liked that about her, as she stood there, glowing and graceful, radiating the power she had within. He saw the army kneel against their will. The world could be theirs, as they knew it.

But he needed to get stronger, to be worthy to stand next to her.

Lena looked at the man as shadows danced around them and he caught her gaze, smirking. The shadow extended, and she couldn’t see the light anymore.

“Impressive.” She said lazily, rubbing her hands on her cloak.

“Not enough to take down an entire army.” He said, letting the shadows drop – sunlight returned making Lena cover her eyes.

“No, I’m afraid not.” She agreed as he came to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She felt the surge of power rush through her, as a reminder that he is an amplifier. Her mind for a second thought about what she could be is she bore his bones permanently, but she chased the thought away.

“Together we could-“

“Have the Ravka, Shu Han, Fjerda. Our reach might take Ketterdam and the whole world.” She finished as Aleksander just grinned.

She glanced at him and he involuntarily stepped back. His face grew tense but there was playfulness behind his eyes.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that.” She let him go, dropping herself to the grass and staring at the surrounding area. They were in an opening in a forest north of Ravka, close to the border.

“I thought we agreed not to discuss your plans to take over the world, Aleksander.” He pressed his lips tightly. This was a discussion neither of them really enjoyed.

“You almost took down the king.” Lena shot him a glance, sending him to his knees. He grunted but remained silent.

“It was for his treatment of grisha. Now he may never forget that if we wished to, we could destroy him and all he stands for.” Her voice trembled in anger. “That was his final warning.”

“Until he hurts another grisha.” Lena looked at Aleksander, who was still on his knees, staring at her. Shadows seeped out of him, seemingly not out of his will. She looked away.

“Then I will have him bring me his own head.” She said through her teeth. The woman couldn’t see Aleksander grin, as if he was twisting up a plan.

She only heard grass move and they were surrounded by darkness again. Even in it, she could see Aleksanders face change, as his shoulder relaxed, his skin began to glow. He looked better the further the darkness reached, and Lena wondered, what was happening to his soul in these moments.

Was he letting the darkness out, hence the glow, or was he letting it in, nest inside of him tainting all there is, eating him from inside out.

Lena has met Baghra once, even if she has been acquainted with Aleksander for some years now. The woman looked at her son with so much love, the girl felt herself grow jealous, even if just a little. But there was something behind her eyes there too, and only weeks later Lena had realized it was fear.

At first, she thought that it was for him, but perhaps it was for the world. Aleksander seemed to grow more and more power hungry every day he spent traveling across Ravka with her. They had no goals. After their visit to the royal court, they were both, hunted and feared.

But neither of those things really gave them power. And Aleksander wanted power.

Lena was scared to let him too close. To drink up his darkness, out of fear for becoming more like him, for wanting the world. She hated herself for what she did at court, yet she felt ecstatic about it too – using her power to it’s full potential. The fear in their faces.

She couldn’t see her cloak anymore, but the dark red was getting in her skin like permanent ink. She was owning the blood witch status. She loved being a scary story kids, to otkazat’sya. She was legend, she was seen and feared.

She hated how it made her feel. But she loved it too. She understood Aleksander better than anyone.

The sun reached her again as the man looked at her, gracing her with a full-toothed smile.

“That was better.” For a moment, he looked like a child. They never discussed their true age, but in the many lifetimes they are yet to have, perhaps they were just kids now. Two small children playing with fire they might not be able to contain.

“It was.” She said, against her better judgement.

There was a steam nearby. She felt the water as she was a Tidemaker, a name that seemed to stick to those of Small Magic who learnt how to manipulate water. She couldn’t see it behind the trees, but her lips twitched as the tried to hold back a grin.

She lifted her arm, twisting it a little, and then flicking it. Water rushed from its source, soaking Aleksander who seemed to be struck by it unexpectedly. He was staring at her in disbelief as she allowed the water to fully drop, her laugh echoing across the forest.

“You should see your face.” She was bent over with laughter, but she still could see Aleksander biting back a smile too, until he burst out laughing. Lena knew he must be freezing though, so she did her best to get water off of him and his clothes once they had finished laughing.

They set camp then, sitting close by the fire. There was a comfortable silence between then as it seemed they have had all of the conversations through the years. Lena still felt herself yearn to hear him speak, tell a story of his earlier life, but he didn’t have many happy ones.

Nor did she.

“Do you think there is more people like us?” She asked, curiously, watching the embers in the fire.

“There aren’t anybody else like us.” Aleksander was looking at the girl, so she met his dark eyes. “And there never will be.”

“What makes you say that?” Lena asked as Aleksander smirked, closing his eyes and leaning in. Her heart skipped a beat as the girl shut her own eyes, but the man simply landed his forehead on hers.

“You and me, we are going to change the world.”

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

A/N: Hey, hey, so, I am kinda back? Idk if I will be writing Y/N fics (tho I do plan to do it) Ive had this idea of Darkling [kinda] fic for awhile, and i have it started on AO3 HOWEVER, the story there takes place in Grishaverse as we know it, aka, around Shadow and Bone trilogy era, whereas what I am sharing here is the backstory of Lena and Darkling, so I hope y’all enjoyed?? Let me know what u think, anonymous feedback can be left on my ask page. This part is short and they all might be, so i can get them out faster, that is if you actually like it?

either way, shooting my shot.

CANT WAIT FOR TV SHOW

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand. 

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart. 

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate 

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why. 

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep. 

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god. 

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great. 

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes. And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy. 

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!” 

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks? 

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit. 

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know. 

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.” 

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work. 

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses. 

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t. 

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in. 

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. 

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable. 

So yeah, fuck Larry. 

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy. 

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand. 

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know? 

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to. 

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices. 

Not great, dude. 

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off. 

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could? 

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people. 

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down. 

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you. 

Fuck Badger. 

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder. 

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger. 

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Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does.  -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

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Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

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Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

[quitethepirategal]

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads​ like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr​ @starsailingcaptain​ @covencrown​ @hookd​ @all-fleshed-out​ @evermxre​ @motherofredemption​ @bup1957​ @conquistadoradelmar��� @seaprofound​ @tcthinecwnself​ @withinycu​ @windguided​ @daevilhorns​ @concordia-cum-sinistro​ and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

     repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

     Her adaptability and resourcefulness.  Is she brave, yes.  Is she lucky, also yes.   But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever.  Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers.  She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command.  But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment.  If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go.  No food?  Grow food.  No water?  Ask someone if they have water.  No shelter?  Sleep outside.  No money?  Steal money.  Can’t hear anymore?  Cool I can use loud weapons.  Crashed on an island?  My island now.  Shot?  Free bullet.  She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ).  Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength.  Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ).  And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

     Her understanding.  As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths.  This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand.  She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive.  Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain.  She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression.  And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected.  Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them.  But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones.  She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource.  What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least.      But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no.  It’s academic as well.  Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold.  Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise.  She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle.  Debates with her are fun!  She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time.  It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her.  It means there’s more to learn.  And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers:  We are fittest to survive because we all fit together.  Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest.  No one is independent, no man is an island.  People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

     Her power.  While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important.  And it’s something Jessica has plenty of.  She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols.  Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior.  She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ).  And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker.  Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are.  And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck.  You see those thighs?  You see those calves?  She can crush PINEAPPLES with them!  People have seen her do it!  Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands?  Thousands!  She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can!  She can kick you to death!  One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED.  Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass!       But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new.  As stated before, people are power.  Not knowledge, not money, not strength.  People.  She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered.  Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship.  She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings.  She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers.  And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this.  Freedom is not independence or vice versa.  Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes?  Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill?  Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating?  No, of course not.  Jessica didn’t either.  Another human did.  We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves.  Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own.  And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve.  There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship.  People are, and always will be, power.       And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid.  And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many.  She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island.  And she can make many more with ease.  That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it. 

Three Weaknesses:

     She suffers ADHD.  Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD.  And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering.  Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be.  At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not.  She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own.  So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine.  Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly.  And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering.  I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance.  If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing.  I started typing this at a little before 5pm.  It’s 7;30.  It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ).  I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function.  So yeah.  Suffering is the word.       Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word.  Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ).  For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented,  she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct.       While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had.  Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis.  It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense.  If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it.  And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too.  Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days.  She doesn’t value you any less, I promise.  She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed.  Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered.  Not selfish, self-centered.  She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all.  Actually she accidentally assumes all the time.  It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ).  Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it.  Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that.  And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly.  She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret.  Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new.       All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks.  ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this.  ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation.  If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net.  Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that.  She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit.  Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line.  And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

     She is Hard of Hearing.  This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s.  Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to.  The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all.  And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength.       That said, it very well can be a strength.  I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK.  Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past!  But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late,  no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things.  She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading.  Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot.  Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader.       All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation.  And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face. 

     That damn bleeding heart.  We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover;  she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability,  she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times,  she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred  ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong.  Keeping up?  Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?!  HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!  Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain.      In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both:  Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad.  I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea.  Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks.  Excellent concept without context, right?  Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do?  The correct answer is to throw him out instantly.  Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out.  Is it hypocritical?  Yep!  Sure is!  But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da!  You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation.  You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons.  Jessica too is faced daily with that decision.  If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only.  She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people.  Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person.  Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings.  It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore.  Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass.  Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse.       Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out.  That’s it.  And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass.  But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy.  That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off.  Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay.  But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom.  You get a kindhearted killer.  Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day.  Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

     WHAT SECRETS?!  LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret.  There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

     What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her?  As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads.  Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine.  Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one.  Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right?  What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy.   HER mercy.  One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty.  And if she died?  Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is?  Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two.  And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last?  Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane?  And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her?  ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

     Who am I if I’m not interesting?  This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear.  She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it.  She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious.  She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this.  And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting.  So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long.  But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent.  Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why.  She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen.  Look at my art!  Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me. 

     GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick.  Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof.  Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing.      SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

   She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious.  Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind.  She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ).  So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege.  But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.  

                                                                               holy shit i need some water...

[liliesoftherain]

I'm back again with a daddy bakugou prompt but I'm asking you to break hearts now. Daughter in this scenario is working as a intern in bakugous agency and they go out on patrol. However a villain attacks and bakugou tells his daughter to go cause he's not going to make it and he tells daughter reader to tell her mom he loves her. But the daughter jumps in front "tell her yourself" and saves her dad. Please end it with daughter surviving. Fluffy but with angst.

A/N: So wow.. This was over 5000 words.. I got carried away whoops. I hope you guys like this, I tried adding more of the fight scene because well, I wanted to practice because I’m not good at them. Also, let me know if you guys like the way I described the quirks, was it too much? I feel like I gave the bad guys ordinary quirks, but what can you do. I’M SORRY I FEEL LIKE I COULD’VE DONE SO MUCH BETTER AHHH. Enjoy y’all!

Title: For the Love of a Daughter

Pairing: Dad!Katsuki Bakugou x Mom!Reader

Katsuki Bakugou!:

“Have fun at your internship today, Bakugou-chan!” 

“Thanks! Enjoy school for me.”

“Not likely, you’re the one who gets the day off while I’m stuck here!”

“Not my fault! Find an agency!” She laughed at her friend as she walked out of the dorms.

The young girl made her way to the Ground Zero Hero Agency that was located nearby U.A. High. It was a convenient commute, and an even more convenient place intern at. Her blonde hair secured high and red eyes set in a determined gaze as she walked through the front doors, being so well known she didn’t even have to show her badge to the lady at the front desk.

“Good morning Akari-chan!” The young woman smiled brightly, waving her through.

“Good morning to you, Chizue-san.” Your daughter smiled in return, walking forward towards the elevator.

After pressing the desired floor and heading to the locker rooms, Akari had gotten changed into her hero gear and made her way to the lead hero’s office. She knocked twice, before opening the door to see him at his desk.

“Still doing paperwork old man?” 

“Watch your mouth brat, I’m almost done.” Katsuki tsk’d, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he spared his daughter a glance before looking back at the computer screen.

“What are you going to have me do today pops.”

“It’s Ground Zero while you’re here, how many times do I have to tell you that.”

“Yeah yeah, Ground Zero-Jiji.”

“OI-”

“C’mon dad really, am I going to be able to go on patrol today? I haven’t been in for a week!”

He smirked at her, standing once he submitted the last of this morning's work.

“Yeah brat, a patrol with your favorite hero.”

“Deku is my favorite hero-”

“Not funny, shithead.” He snapped, flicking her forehead as he walked by her. She huffed in false hurt, internally laughing at how she could get him so riled up, even when he knew she was joking.

“Because of that, I’ll have you file all the paperwork yourself when we get back.” Katsuki snickered, pressing the button to head down to the main lobby.

“You can’t do that,” Akari crossed her arms with a light glare, “I’m not allowed to handle paperwork, I’m a second year dad. Did you forget due to your old ass age?”

Entering the elevator Katsuki flicked her forehead once more, this time putting more force.

“Ow-”

“Watch your fucking mouth, I remember perfectly thank you. This old man could kick your ass. Plus, as long as I supervise, I can make you do whatever fucking paperwork I want.”

“I’ll tell mom on you.” Akari crossed her arms, nose pointed in the air.

“Do it brat, she won’t take your side.” Katsuki mocked her look without even realizing it.

The fact that him and his kid were so similar was almost scary, it surely gave you enough headaches to last a lifetime.

The doors open with a chime and the two headed out, punching out by the front desk. The system was there to keep record that they were going to be away from the agency on a patrol. It was a handy system, letting other pros of the office know what you were doing in case an emergency happened.

“Have a safe patrol, Ground Zero, Surge!”

“Thank you.” The two replied in sync, walking out of the building.

The two left their playful bickering inside, turning on a much more serious demeanor while on patrol. Katsuki wanted to teach his daughter everything he knew, because before long she would be her own hero taking her place to come out on top.

Nothing but the greatest for his kid.

The patrol started normal, and if Akari wasn’t as well groomed in the line of hero work, she’d dare say boring. However, she knew better than to think of it that way. 

Peace may be tranquil, it may be calm and still, but it was never boring.

It was a blessing.

However today, was not one of those blessed days.

They had already been out for almost a good thirty minutes, interacting with civilians and helping with smaller issues, when screams were heard. The two quickly rushed to the scene, smelling the smoke before they could even see it.

Large flames danced along collapsed buildings, civilians were running wild, desperately trying to get away from whatever had caused the situation in the first place.

“Go help with an evacuation, make your priority the safety of the citizens!”

“Yes sir!” Akari knew better than to argue about wanting to help with the villains who were making the scene, the civilians were the priority.

Katsuki had charged forward, assessing the situation to see that there were 3 villains and their main target seemed to be unknown. It wasn’t money, there was a bank right down the street. They were standing closer to a now burning abandoned building, possibly there just for a harmful deeds with no goal. Or, they were causing a distraction for something bigger.

Katsuki enclosed on the three, quickly blasting an explosion to try to quickly knock them off their feet. However, they must have seen him becoming because all three immediately countered the attack. That gave Katsuki a moment to analyze their quirks, and how big of a nuisance they’d be.

The female of the group seemed to be able to manipulate shadows, he could tell as she manipulated what looked like to be her own as a shield to block his attack. He noticed she didn’t bother using any other shadows, even though there were plenty around her that were larger than her own, so he figured that was the extent of her power. The amount of shadow she could manipulate seemed to be as small as she was. Either way, it could be used not only as a defensive quirk, but depending on how she could handle her quirk, a good offensive one as well. 

There was a man with a mask over his face, bending the air around him to make the attack head over his head. Wind was always a pain to deal with, even if someone wasn’t as skilled with it in turn making the quirk weaker. It was hard to aim calculated attacks without having them be blown away. Katsuki knew he’d had to keep an eye out on that one.

The last man, who looked to be the leader, took the blow straight on. His skin changing to that what was hardened in what looked to be steel, most likely high carbon steel, seeing as there were no scratches or abrasions even with the high impact explosion. He may be the pack lead for a reason, most things would bounce off of him, no damage, no injury, less mess. However, there was a thing about hard materials were also very brittle- if he kept on his toes, not allowing this guy to take a break and continued to hit him with hard impacts, he’d either let his armor down himself or finally break.

Katsuki readied for battle as the two underlings rushed forward, attacking him simultaneously. Katsuki was able to use enough force to send the shadow user back a few feet into some debris, before blocking a punch from the main man himself. The hardened punch caused him to grunt, the force from the punch was almost as much as Eijirou’s.

Almost.

Katsuki sent an explosion from both palms to each guy, countering immediately with physical attacks. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the man with the wind quirk was causing him more problems than he’d like. He had a good sense of control on his quirk and it was difficult to find openings as not only his quirk, but his attacked were being pushed back because of it.

The fight lasted with neither one side or the other going down, the shadow user came up from behind as she recovered, almost knocking Katsuki off of his balance. He was growing irritated, these lowlifes were actually putting up a fight-where were the other pros in the vicinity?

Where was Akari.

Like she read his mind, his daughter quickly came from nowhere it seemed, surprising the wind user as she used her own explosions on him from behind. 

She was his daughter alright.

She got a really amazing quirk, even more so than his, even if he’d never admit it. Your quirk was a really good match with his, even though your quirk was the last reason why he married you.

Your quirk was called Adrenaline Rush, you were able to enhance your physical body because of it, your adrenaline working more overpowered than anyone else’s. Your increase in blood flow and oxygen to your muscles causing you to be- well basically supercharged.

The reason why it paired so well was because one prominent feature that happened during a rush-

You sweat. A lot.

So in turn, when your daughter had both, the increased sweating mixed with his explosive quirk-

Let’s just you guys made one bad ass kid.

Her quirk was Explosive Adrenaline, he thought it was the cutest name, a mix of both of yours. She was sort of able to control her physical body like you were, but she could either put in a ‘super charge’ into her limbs, or into her explosions. 

This time she put more of her overcharge into her fist, having it painfully collide with the back of the wind quirk’s head. Katsuki, now even more on a high alert, made sure to keep the other two occupied on him while he let Akari handle the other. 

The two-on-one was going better now that he didn’t have his attacks weren’t being blown away, and he could tell he was wearing both of his opponents down. The shadow user manipulated her shadow into a bat, and went to swing it at his face, but Katsuki grabbed the other guy moved him into the spot instead, forcing him to take her attack while he followed up and used an explosion from behind. The two crashed into each other, falling on the ground while Katsuki went for another attack to make sure they stayed there. 

Although, the sound of his daughter's cry caught his attention and he turned in time to see her back collided with an unstable building, the walls shaking from the impact and threatening to fall. He sprinted over to her, blasting the wind user away while covering her body with his own as soon as the building crumbled down. The pain spread throughout his body, and he ground his teeth together as he tried to make sure Akari was alright. 

He blasted through some remains, the overuse of his quirk causing his hands to shake but he bared with it. The rush in his body numbing the pain as he dragged the both of them behind another building to recoup. He slumped against a wall, taking in heavy breaths as he scanned her over. Besides for some cuts she looked fine, and he felt a breath of relief fall from his lips. 

“Are you alri-”

Before he could finish his sentence the three, now all up and running, came from behind the corner in order to fight once more. This wasn’t right, something was wrong.

Katsuki just knew it, if they were after something they would have ran off the moment they got, unless they were distracting them for a reason-

There was something else they were covering for, or worse yet, someone.

Katsuki frantically looked around while trying to fend off the persistent villains, trying to see who the hell they were messing with.

“You heroes really are idiots!” The shadow user screamed out, her shadow flattening out and pushed the father-daughter duo back.

They both landed further down the alley with a grunt, and Katsuki felt his lungs working overtime to get air into his lungs. Then he finally saw it, another person coming out of the shadows with a wicked grin.

“Ground Zero- good to see you buddy. Really, it’s been a while.” Katuski stood, throwing three explosions in his direction while throwing five more in the other to hold off the three lower villains.

“You think this had any effect on me- come now Ground Zero, you mustn't remember me if you think that could hold me, and frankly, that pisses me off.”

The sound of cracking bones was loud in Akari’s ears, more so than her father’s and her own explosions. The sickening sound of it taring through the skin was horrid and she held back a gag at the smell that followed. His bone turned sharp, coming out of him like extra limbs as they stretched and grew, heading straight towards her dad. She vaguely saw the look of panic on her dad’s face, and she knew that he must've had great trouble with him in a previous battle, if the villains monologue wasn’t anything to go by. 

She felt the wind from behind and saw the others closing in, looking back to the front, the man's bones were growing thicker as ran forward.

“Surge-” Her dad let off more explosions and she followed suit, gritting her teeth as she sent multiple to the party behind her, “Get the hell out of here- go request back up. I don’t know why no one else hasn’t fucking arrived.” 

A bone sliced through the air unharmed from the blasts, managing to clip Katsuki’s shoulder painfully. His hands were tied, if he ran forward to attack the man, he’d be leaving his daughter to a 3-on-1 fight, and while she was no weakling, that was hard on anyone. If he focused on the three, they’d have his full attention and she would be left alone with the creep. Either way he’d be leaving her as an opening, and he wasn’t about to risk that. He was sure he’d have a fighting chance if she wasn’t there on the forefront of his thoughts, if he was able to go wild. At the very least, he’d be able to buy her enough time to get the hell out of here and request some assistance. 

To get somewhere safe.

 Akari gasped as she saw her dad get his shoulder sliced, drawing plenty of blood from the wound. He was already badly injured, plenty of regular bruises and scratches, but worse wounds from the falling building earlier. Plus, this maniac with the crazy quirk was striking only him, deep cuts appearing on his skin, angry red coming in its place. She started sending more powerful explosions to the group behind her, trying to keep them away as she racked her brain for any ideas on how to fight. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to take on a group alone, and this guy seemed to think he could give her dad a struggle, so what were they going to do? 

All she could do was send a constant barrage of supercharged explosions, and it was working for the most part, the smokescreen helping to keep them blinded and unable to press on with any attack. But the smoke was being wiped as fast as she could create it, the wind picking up do to the man with the quirk, blowing it away and trying to create an opening for his team.

Damn wind quirks.

“No- I can’t leave you Ground Zero! We have to find a way out together-”

“This is no time to argue with me dammit!” 

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, he was looking down at her with a worried look on his face. He was shaking due to overuse and exhaustion, and he was bleeding out in multiple places as the bone kept meeting his form. She willed her explosions to come larger, feeling adrenaline course through her veins as she began to sweat more, and took all of the energy and moved it into her palms. The smoke was thicker, the pain was larger, and the panic was coming in waves. 

“I’m sorry dad-I can’t leave you!”

“You get your ass out of here! You got that!? Dammit-your mother must be calling by now, you haven’t had a fucking lunch break yet and you know how pissy she gets when you don’t eat. Kid, you know you��re a hero in my eyes but you’re still fucking learning! So get out of here so you can keep moving forward and take over the number one spot-GO.” He gave no room for argument, and the sadness in his eyes scared her more.

She saw another part of the bone coming from the smoke, this time aimed right at her dad’s heart. She yelled out, and rushed for it before it could reach him. 

He wanted her to learn, but if she couldn’t learn from him, learn from the best, how the hell would she ever make it to the number one spot? 

It was over before it began, the searing pain in her side caused her to grunt in surprise as she was lifted up into the air. The gravity forcing the bone to travel deeper into the wound, this time bringing a scream from her lips. Although she couldn’t hear it due to the ringing in her ears-plus she was too busy trying to focus on breaking the bone. 

If her father’s quirk couldn’t break it, she would have to show that old man who’s boss and do it herself. 

She wrapped her hands around the bone, drawing all the power she could muster before releasing multiple, large, supercharged shots into it. She heard the crack, and the screams and shouts around her blended together. All she cared about was the the bone turned to ash and she was finally dropped onto the floor. The impact took the air from her lungs and her vision blurred before it all went black.

While all she could see was black, Katsuki saw red. 

One moment he was telling her to leave, to save herself without really telling her that it was over, and the next he sees his baby on the ground.

His baby.

Katsuki’s mind flashes to every moment he’s ever had with her, and for some reason the most prominent memories were all the moments he's ever cried;

The first time he held her he cried because he was scared that he would never be enough for the angel he held in his tainted hands.

The first time she had talked, she had spoken had been his name and he had cried tears of happiness because his whole world was complete as long as he had her. 

The first time she had walked, it was into his embrace, so he cried tears of joy at being the arms where she felt safe enough to walk into.

The first day of school she had said goodbye with no problems, and he cried at the fear that she didn't need him anymore. 

The first time she had shown her quirk, he cried right along with her as the explosions had burned her hands; he knew the pain of a powerful quirk, both physically and emotionally, and he wanted nothing more than to blast that pain away.

The first time she had shown interest in training, she had asked him to train her and he secretly cried because he was overjoyed that she wanted his help over anyone else.

The first time that she was ever excited about school was when she got her acceptance in his alma mater, and he cried because he was so damn proud of her.

The first person she said when he asked who she wanted to intern with was him, and he cried because he felt so lucky to be her first choice.

This was the first time he had seen her hurt so badly, and he knew he was crying in agony at the sight.

She had so many firsts in her life already, but she still had so many firsts left ahead of her. 

He wanted to keep crying for all the good and all the firsts she had yet to do.

He wants to cry as he watches her graduate.

He wants to cry as she makes it as a pro.

He wants to cry as he walks her down the aisle.

He wants to see her grow, he wants her to have the world at her feet.

He didn't want to cry in regret at her funeral because he didn't have what it takes to save her.

He would not let himself see her death, there was no way he was going to let her die.

"AKARI!"

Any hurt he had been previously feeling was pushed to the side, the only thing Bakugou could focus on was keeping his little girl safe. 

Sending a large enough explosion to keep the ones behind at bay, he moved her from the middle of the ground. He wanted to hold her tight in his arms but he needed to make sure they were safe first, so he ran towards the man with bone, sending a punch that was backed with an explosion at his face, twisting around to kick him in the gut before sending off another explosion for good measure to knock him down.

Katsuki turned around, and wasted no time blasting an explosion larger than he had ever done before at the trio, making sure none of them could possibly think of getting close to Akari. He wasted no time sprinting forward and grabbing the man of steel, tossing his hardened body into the wind user, before grabbing the girl by the face and slamming her into the wall. He sent off an explosion before tossing her as well at the pair on the ground. 

He backtracked and brought the man of bone back to his feet, the man only staring with wide eyes as Katsuki gripped his throat tight, having to force himself to stop before he took it too far. More bone tried to desperately pierce his skin, but the chokes and frantic kicking of his legs showed how his mind was off due to panic, his quirk doing nothing more than grazing in an ungraceful frenzy. The labored breaths framed Katsuki’s face and he squeezed a fraction tighter, in hopes to knock him out for a while. 

Inside his mind he wishes it was for good.

Once the eyes rolled back and the man went limp, the viper-tight grip was released. He let him fall harshly onto the ground, no care in his body for anything other than their suffering. The other group was groaning on the ground, writhing in pain, but it wasn’t enough. 

Yet before he could do more, police ran forward into the smoke, catching the villains and binding them with quirk suppressant cuffs. 

Another hero ran through the smoke, looking as bad as Katsuki did. Bloodied and torn green hero suit, curly hair flat against his head with sweat and even more blood. He was holding onto his stomach, breathing harshly with one eye closed to keep it clean from what trickled down from his hairline.

“Kaach-fuck, MEDIC!”

Katsuki didn’t listen, focusing all of attention to his little girl. She was still breathing, the wound deep but fortunately not deep enough to have her bleed out in the seconds he was fighting. He raised his heavily shaking hands and pressed them to her side, tears falling down his face as he whispered promises into her unconscious ears. 

He refused to let anyone pick up up, choosing to strain himself longer and set her down onto the stretcher himself, also refusing attention as he insisted on riding with her. As much as they wanted to tell him to trust them, to let himself get help, they wouldn’t. The look in his eyes proved that anything spoken to him would be futile, so they ushered him inside the ambulance before speeding off to the nearest hospital. He could wait, he needed to make sure she’d be okay.

Akari had to be okay.

As soon as they had gotten her stretcher into the operating room, is when Katsuki collapsed. His body was running on pure fear and adrenaline, and the damage he had taken was more than he could handle. As soon as he saw she was getting the treatment she needed, the small amount of relief had been the switch that turned his body off. His shakes stopped, breathing hitching along with eyes fluttering closed and he felt weightless, landing with his back on the cold tile. Nurses and doctors rushing to get him help.

You had watched the news, worry coursing through your body as the woman reported of how small yet powerful groups of villains were targeting top pro heroes. You tried to calm yourself, saying your husband was more than capable of handling some weaklings. But you remembered today was the day Akari was with him, and you knew he’d be more concerned about her safety than the fight at hand. You rubbed your enlarged stomach with shaking hands, trying to remind yourself the stress wasn’t healthy for the two of you. 

Although that worry only intensified when your home phone began to ring, the ringing sounding further away the closer you went. Lifting it with a shuddering breath, you answered.

The man on the other end told you how your husband and daughter were in critical care at the moment, and that you needed to get down to the hospital as quickly as you could. You could only hang up, no answers needed. Knowing if you spoke it would all rush out. You were in a trance, grabbing your purse and keys one moment, and the next time you blinked you were rushing through the hospital doors. 

Waddling as fast as you could to the nurses desk, you quickly asked for more information. The nurse soothingly gave you all the information she could, getting up to guide you to a seat as you were finding yourself swaying in place. She knelt down in front of you, asking you to breath in and out with her. You don’t remember complying, but the nod of her head gave you the indication you were. Her lips moved but no noise came out, static white noise is all that you could hear-and in a way it was calming.

The hustle and bustle of rushing professionals was all in the background, fading slowly as if you had muted the television. The nurses words, the speakers overhead, the squeaking of stretchers, the sirens from outside, they were all silent. 

Quiet.

It was too quiet now.

You needed to hear two things only.

Your family’s voices. 

Your husbands throaty scoffs and your daughters teasing laughs.

You needed your family.

It must have been hours before a doctor came to you, but you had sat for what seemed like years of your life were chipping away. 

All at once the noise came back at full volume, almost too loud to hear the doctor in front of you.

“They’re ready to be seen, but be warned, they’re most likely still pretty groggy. If that’s the case, know that it is perfectly normal.”

You followed the doctor to a room on another floor, the entire walk felt too long, you had to see them now. 

Katsuki had woken up, pain shooting from multiple places in his body. He grunted in pain, the closing of his eyes, along with the growing weight of his limbs, were trying to coax him asleep and he was allowing the pull to lull him. 

His eyes shot open before he fell back under, his heart rate spiking on the monitor as he panicked.

“A-akari.” His voice was hoarse, broken glass in his throat causing pain that no amount of throat clearing could get rid of.

“I’m right here daddy-I’m right here.”

His eyes snapped to his left, seeing his daughter sitting up and bandaged in many places, although not as bandaged up as he was. She started to sniffle and held out her hand to him. Despite the pain, he reached out and held her right hand just as tightly, lips quivering in relief at the sight of her.

She was okay.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you understand.” Katsuki demanded, voice still scratchy but just as serious. 

She said nothing but smiled, although her smile quickly fell and was replaced with a wobbly bottom lip.

“You l-look like shit.” Tears fell from her eyes.

Katsuki barked out a mix of a sob and a laugh that hurt his body, hand squeezing hers as he replied.

“I love you brat.”

“I love you too old man.”

The door opened, causing the two to sober their tears as best as they could, and the pair looked over to see you and a doctor walk in. 

“Oh my babies.” You cried, rushing over to hug your daughter in a hug. Katsuki let go of his daughter’s hand, slowly bringing it back to his side, hissing quietly at the pain. 

You kissed her face all over, holding her cheeks and muttering sweet nothings into her hair.

“Mom, I’m okay-”

“Shut up brat, let me kiss you.” You pressed her against your chest, rocking her slowly as you kissed her head. 

She gripped your shirt back, holding the material tight between clenched fists. You stayed that way for a while, long enough to where the doctor excused himself and said he’d be back later for more information.

After a moment, you pulled away, giving her one last kiss before looking over at your husband. He was staring at the two of you with a small smile, love in his eyes. 

“(y/n)..”

“You stupid man.”

“Oi!”

You remove yourself from your daughter, walking over to Katsuki before hugging him just as tight.

“OW-damn woman, I’m hurt here.”

“Sh-shut up.” You cried into his chest, laying sideways on his bed facing your daughter, being wary of your bump.

Katsuki ran his right arm down arm a few times, hoping to sooth your cries. His hand ran down your back, reaching around the best he could to hold onto your stomach. He lifted his left arm to do the same, but that took a lot more effort. 

No matter the effort, he’d do all he could to hold you close to him.

You sighed, calm enough to sit up to look at your loves in matching bandages.

“You both are in so much trouble when we get home.”

“Awh Ma, c’mon!”

“Yeah what the hell woman.”

You laughed and they looked at your confused, glancing at each other before sharing mental thoughts, knowing they shouldn’t poke the bear.

“I’m sorry mom.” Akari sighed.

“Me too mom.” Katsuki replied sarcastically.

Well, poke the bear too much. Katsuki couldn’t help it sometimes, even during serious moments such as these.

“You better be, I never said you could get yourselves hurt, did I?” 

“No ma’am.” They responded in sync. 

You sat on his bed in a way that allowed you to look at both of them at the same time, and you felt tears well up one more. Reaching out to your daughter, you held her hand tight, using the other to rub circles on your husbands bicep.

“I love you both, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“We love you too.”

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Puppet Strings

Please don’t police the shit out of me for this one (I’ve read and seen all of what’s happening in Tumblr with the talented authors 😭😫---either way, I DGAF if I get judged for writing this. Y’all are getting this for free. LMAO. Welcome to my freakin’ kinky world. 😭

MASTERLIST

Characters: Stephen Colley x Reader

Summary: You’ve had Stephen wrapped around your finger by using your family’s kindness to your advantage---keeping him guilty and complying over whatever wishes you wanted---he was giving it due to your manipulative, cunning persona. You were being head-over-heels for him that made you have your reasons, thinking that being the way you are was fine for your strong obsession. 

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Manipulative reader. Obsessed reader. This is quite dark for me because she’s using our puppy to her benefit (somehow?)---using Stephen as if he’s her boy toy. Spitting. Sub!Stephen. Porn with a plot. (Though, this was planned to only be porn without a plot LMAO) Dub-con. Exhibitionism. Angst? Thirsty ass reader. Not connected to the plot of the movie.

Words: 3,810+

A/N: I didn’t know what happened that this ended up this way. Please don’t judge my soul for this.I was all ‘oh my baby stephen’ to writing this filthy shit. Also, Stephen’s 20 in this and the reader is 19, okay? So, legal. (In my country it is) ENJOY, FILTHY LADIES! This made me pout because of how soft Stephen is and the reader is quite...Eh. 😭 I think this will be a 3-5 part fic. Heehee. Or maybe not----lmao. We’ll see. 

Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS PART! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!  

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE SMELL OF BLUEBELLS WAS ARDENT AND SWITH, it's scent thoroughly withstanding and wafting through your nose with the odor of sweat. Stephen's earthy and musk scent adding more stimulation to what was being given down south and around the canvas of your breasts.

An ample amount of slime trailed a path from the swell of your knockers through the meander of your neck, feeling a pair of soft, delicate lips having its way and paving to have a suck; thrilled and exploratory over giving you a mark that you surely ordered him around to.

You've felt the tiny nibbles on your neck, feeling full over being filled by the cock of your family's lackey who happened to be under your manipulative, presumptuous fingers. Stephen was having his way with you, as he was commanded to do so in the middle of harvesting crops; all sweaty, dirty and masking in his domestic labor as your fingers hooked along his belt hoops, pulling him away from the field towards a veiled place where bluebells were filled.

The first time you've had sex with Stephen, he was beyond hesitant. His rosy cheeks fueled as if it was on fire from the moment you've asked him for more of his services; to be the one to take your virginity rather than a rich, middle aged man who had terrible mustaches that crept the heck out of you.

Stephen and his pure innocence understood your favors of help by wanting him to accompany you in the city while you buy things for yourself or stuff that your mother asked to buy.

Much to your dismay for his lack of apprehension, It wasn't the type of aid you were asking for.

How pretty his face flushed a lot more from how you've frankly told him that you needed a different type of assistance to satisfy that curiosity of yours made you giggle, the desire pooling more in the pit of your stomach, filling in the prurient passion as if it was enough to stimulate you.

Stephen Colley was utterly pretty, beyond God's work as he was sculpted with a face of a Greek God as people have been saying. Your family even admiring God's work of art by how he was created; enough to be painted and inspired to be sculptured in the museums. He was the first boy in your fantasies and the only one that could make you breathe deep breaths in between rubbing the itch in your mound as you explored your body by yourself that nobody ever had yet.

He was your fantasy. The boy in your dreams that you would gladly want to have in your life for years end.

After welcoming the afterglow of an orgasm, such debauched thoughts came into your head in the same time you've wanted to rub onto that button again for thinking about him.

You were going to have him. You wanted him, you've mindlessly convinced yourself. Stephen was a plague that could infect your precious little mind---the facade of an innocent, kind and shy sweetheart that your family has been seeing from you was ruined when you've reached puberty.

It wasn't helping that Stephen walked around the house with clothes that you surely want to ruin. Your mind being influenced by your older sister's experiences with men and how her sex life have been.

She was a wild one and deep inside---no matter how much you tell yourself that it was a deed that people respectfully hold onto, the untamed part of you wanted to experience it with the boy who had adorable rosy cheeks and a gorgeous accent that could make you gush.

Being in line with the heavens, you were lucky Stephen was quite naive despite being a year older than you and with all the plans you had inside your head, being manipulative and guilt-tripping him till he would obey was the only answer for him to accept your offers because the boy was beyond nice and respectful, innocent---delicate as he may seem in being a rose without thorns amongst the bundle of daisies growing along the field.

You weren't his first to be honest; hearing that he had his virginity taken by a lady when he was taking a trip to the city, the woman being older than him and enamored by his beauty, she was very pretty as Stephen saw her the first time---growing a little crush before the lady has offered him a night filled with pleasure, leaving him alone the next morning and a ton of cash that has left him heartbroken by expecting a number or a sweet filled morning with her.

Was this obsession you had for Stephen? you couldn't tell while having the luck of being boffed by him no matter how tentative he may been. The phrase you've been telling whenever he was reluctant held a powerful will for making him capitulate over your wishes.

'You're working for us---I'm your miss. Shouldn't you always follow what I have to say, Stephen?'

Guileful and conniving for you, but you've had no other choice especially when you've heard your sister gossip about how he was starting to take a liking over a girl across the neighborhood, the lady living in a castle---going way back with him and her family because they've known each other since they were kids until they've moved away and came back to their hometown.

Cassandra. That was her name. It was a name that should be left forgotten in Stephen's mind.

Your boy shifted in between your opened legs, your dress hiked up and his trousers unbuttoned; stopping on the end of his derriere as he stuck his swollen cock inside your tight folds, kissing and licking along your throat and breasts that had you mewling beneath him.

Begging him to take you in the middle of the grass to relieve that fantasy only he could satisfy, you've laid beneath him and promised that he could take his time and do whatever he pleases. Exploring every inch and depth of your body with your dress being in a bunch and unfastened by Stephen. Today, you've just wanted to feel him, touch him and let him be inside you because of certain feelings that can't be resisted.

He was patiently taking his time, both of you basking in the afternoon glow before dusk and never bringing in a gas lamp before night even arrives. Stephen was licking your taut nub, his mouth close to your nipple as his hot breath was fanning along his own saliva, bringing pleasure and satisfaction. Another weak whimper erupted from your mouth, watching his eyes closed; tongue darting out to flick your other hardened nipple before deeply moaning out his approval as he devoured your breasts with a tight, strong suck.

The lewd action was enough to make your spine and toes curl.

You've flexed your cunt, tightening around his girth and you've heard him lowly groan with your nipple in his mouth. He immediately pulled his mouth off your breasts with a pop. Innocent, lust-filled baby blues stared above you, the flicker in his eyes asking and waiting for your next behest.

"Stephen," was the only word you managed to croak out, sounding like you were being choked as you felt him slowly pull out of your thirsty cunt. He leaned his head to the left, dipping his head and giving you a kiss which caught you off-guard; it was plain and enough to take your mind off his throbbing cock that has slithered in. After being explored by his mouth on your body, Stephen's lips that landed on you to give a peck surely felt unfamiliar because you both rarely do share kisses in the midst of intercourse.

His crimson colored lips on yours felt divine. The sudden smooch probably involuntary in his part because of how sexually intimate you were being with him. You've swallowed the moan forming in your throat by feeling him wholly pull out, moaning and whining from the lack of imbue and by forcing yourself not to have your way with his lips---wanting nothing but to dance your mouth with his.

You knew this was a one-sided affection and he didn't entirely adored you like how you do for him.

Your fingers gripped onto the grass on either side, it traveled and clasped around Stephen's neck that felt balmy beneath the pad of your fingers. Drops of perspiration smoothening out as you watched him pant above you, breathless and in a daze. His cheeks turning rosier and crimson from such scabrous act you've brought him in.

He was heavy and scathing on your thigh. His hand grabbing onto the growing base of his throbbing, uncut, hard cock as he looked between you both, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he was feeling his cock on his hands, fingers enclosing around his girth to give it one jerk that made you salivate.

His neck was sweating, drops of perspiration falling along his temples and to distract yourself, you've darted your tongue out to sweep the sweat off his face, catching him off guard that made him throatily groan and cast you a look, his eyes withdrawn and thoroughly focused on what taboo you tried to help him be accustomed with.

The place you decided to be ravished on was rather risquè but also getting you more thrilled to know that your sister knew this spot as a location you always spend time with whenever you were reading. You've heard tiny shuffling of bushes which made Stephen look away and observe whoever that was with his eyebrows knotted together---distracting him and pushing the worry away just like you always do, you've quietly whispered in his ear.

"Put that cock in me, Stephen. Please,"

At the sound of you pleading, it was enough to pull his thoughts away from being concerned over your family catching you both in such a raunchy moment. Their daughter laid amongst the land, being ravished by their worker who they've trusted for all their heart---a boy whom they didn't expect to be salaciously connected with you.

The both of you were in for a tough scolding if caught.

Pointing the head of his cock in your entrance, he'd swiftly drove in. You were wet enough for him to slip inside with the right tightness of your cunt that pushed him to grunt as he filled you in one go. Your back curled from the penetration, the thirst for sexual gratification being answered by Stephen when he started to thrust his hips, experimenting over the pace that could make you moan around his arms before pummeling like how he wanted to.

"Oh yeah---yeah---yes, just like that," you've choked in your own moans and pleasure, licking your lips and watching how he was defiling your cunt with his cock, your slick moisturizing his---the filthy sound of your juices coating his, thrusting in and out of your folds; becoming music to the sound of insects probably watching how you were both sending each other raptures.

Stephen knew how thrilled you were becoming by the audible sound of how filthy he was making you feel. Being aware of the obscene sound whenever he tries to fasten the pace, slowing down to let you both appreciate the erotic sense of debauchery has gotten you biting your lip up at him.

You were his miss and whatever you wanted was his job to give.

He'd slip a hand in between you, the pad of his thumb finding your clit and when he did, Stephen started rubbing that throbbing nub of yours in rough, circular motions making your core jerk, your hips chasing his hand with each thrust he gives; entirely accepting and embracing the sheer pleasure he was giving.

Your boy was deeply grunting with each shove of his hips, his cock befouling your scheming soul and you were loving every moment---cherishing the sounds he create that only you could muster.

Only you, not Cassandra---not anyone.

In the midst of such onslaught and currently trapped in your own bliss, you've never took heed of Stephen panting out your name; thinking that he was bemoaning his desperation for continuously prodding your hole in a greedy pace, his carping had a flicker of perturbation in his diluted, lust-filled baby blues as he tried to catch your attention.

"Miss---Miss," Stephen couldn't stop his smutty assaults. Too concentrated on reaching both of your highs as he peered down at you with his peepers growing larger when he heard your name being called from afar; being an echo of warning that what you were both caught up with was utterly unchaste.

"---your family---ugh---they're seeking for you," he grunted with every word and plunge; his pace never stopping and his fingers reaching further down to polish your clit. Your leak being spread all over your folds as he licked his lips, admiring how you were writhing beneath his body---how you reacted to his ministrations.

Their voices echoed from afar, alerting you both that they were closer than you imagined them to be. It was the dead of the night already, the time after nightfall as you both welcomed the sins of passion that you have gotten Stephen to be involved in again. Being in the shadows of the night, the moment was easier to covert from your family as you laid to satisfy your mania. The ruffle of grass being stepped on repeatedly actually has been the sound of Stephen ardently violating your cunt along the land of dew.

You've both turned your heads to see light coming from the far distance. A buzz of incomprehensible words of unknown from your sister who was mindlessly telling her hunches as to where you both went; remembering that Stephen was also not around for her to ask if he could buy stuff around town because it was already night time.

"Oh, yes!---don't mind them!---just do me,"

He slowed down his pace, skeptical over being caught but never stopping his thrusts while his features turned conflicted over being dubious and also feeling like he was floating for the twist of elation written on your face from his drives. You've grabbed onto his hair, roughly turning his head to face yours as he loudly grunted and groaned above you, the sound made you slip a finger on his lips to shush his moans.

"You're not going to get caught---we're not going to get caught. Just stifle your moans. You can do that. You're a good boy---our good boy and you'll make me cum, right?"

The whispers you've managed to slip past your lips made him stare down at you, understanding what you were trying to point out and it has not been seconds before he'd nodded before you, starting his relentless pace that made you sigh as he was trying to build up your orgasm again, grabbing onto your ankle and hooking it around his hip as he continued to forge himself in you; his breath hitting your face with every push---grunts being uncontrolled from the actions.

You've heard a twig break from behind, not wanting Stephen to be distracted---you've grabbed onto his face and forced him to look at you; your heart beat never ceasing to run fast whenever he stares into your eyes. The fast heart beat also being the cause of your orgasm coming.

He'd shifted in between you, your hips bucking to meet every thrust he offered. Mewling out lewd moans whenever he hits that spot that felt so heavenly. Reaching for his hand, you've guided him back to where he has been flicking---your clit that he immediately rubbed on as you were approaching your high.

Loud, rough grunts came from his throat, feeling his own coming as your cunt gripped him hard for the sounds he was creating. Your mouth and face contorted in sheer pleasure when you've violently thrashed against his hold. Stephen's unconscious response was to grab onto you, keeping you closer to his lean, muscular body---a wiry sculpted body from all the hard work that he does for your family; convulsing in his arms as you gushed around his penetrative cock.

Rambunctious ugh's came from the both of you, especially from your boy who was in the midst of coming. Your sensitive cunt was jolting as Stephen went on in propelling himself, his face of bliss bringing you ecstacy as it was hot for a beautiful face to be debauched like that. You've forgotten your family who was in search for you when he wholly pulled out just in time for him to spill his warm seed over your torso, his load shooting out in spurts as he breathed heavily above you.

You've both shared silence after a moment of paradise. As a habit you've held Stephen accountable, he'd delicately held onto your jaw with his calloused fingers, pinching them together to set forth over opening your mouth. It was an understanding and idea that you told him about after an act of pleasure. He was against the idea at first before you've basically convinced him that there would be no moment as if you were being degraded. But, he somehow has become used to it after quite some time.

Besides, it was one of your wishes. His miss surely needed to have it when she wants it.

Gradually opening your lips, Stephen has lined his mouth on you. Drawing down a line of spit and aiming to shoot it inside; thoroughly not bothered about the fact of it already as he spat inside your mouth, making you grin as he gathered his spilled cum on your torso with a finger, slipping them inside your vermillion, his eyes in a daze as he concentrated over the mouth that has sucked on his cream-filled fingers---swallowing the mixture of his saliva and release like it was food for your tainted soul.

He certainly didn't expect you to be ribald and deceptive from such a religious family---But, considering your sister and her liberated moments, maybe it was probably in the blood.

"Was it how you liked it today?" he simply acknowledged, tone curious over the fact of being caught by your family was thrilling you which is why you've dragged him along the meadow while he was working, asking him for a quick frigging in a deserted, furtive space.

Stephen helped you wear your dress after snapping his breeches back, keeping himself decent. He still wore his white, dirt-filled tank top. Slipping over his suspenders on his shoulders, the latter remained sitting on the grass as you stood up. The expression on his face mixed with a look of a puppy who was blushing under the moon light, his hair utmost unkempt and clothes looking rumpled as if he had a wild night.

"It was everything, Stephen." you softly muttered, flattening the stresses of your dress with the back of your hand, erasing any proof or evidence that you had a nooky with your family's beautiful helper. A sigh left your lips as the ache of thirst was probing your spine, yearning for more than once today.

"---But, can you do me one more favor?"

"Anything, Miss Y/N."

Stephen waited and watched for your response, seeing you ogling at his beauty as he sat silently, catching sight of those suggestive flicker of your eyes under the night.

You've knelt before him, having your height differences obvious from how you tried being eye to eye as he was still taller than you. He'd simply studied your face, changing into an expression that he wouldn't get to reject---not that he ever does because he had no other choice but to follow what you wanted because you were still his patron.

"Can you visit my chambers after dinner?"

He was quick to become uncertain over the service being asked. His thoughts hastily going to what happened in the middle of fornication a while ago; the risk of being exposed by your family for what you both decided to tumble through the afternoon, "But, Miss---"

His protests were cut short when you've distracted him with a delicate kiss to the lips, using it to your advantage as it left seeing him swallowing his apprehension down in the pit of his stomach. Kissing you back with a soft peck that got you sighing when he pulled away to wait for your answer, his complains never being risked to be told. Currently disoriented from the kiss you've given him out of the blue and from the feeling of being confused over what he should feel for letting you have him explicitly.

"My family won't be awake in the middle of the night,"

"Would...you wish to be ravished again?" he understood what you wanted. Another part of his services that he only gives you because you were artful enough to manipulate him into thinking that the idea was fine---that giving you his body and soul was fine.

Stephen had his utmost respect for everyone in your family because he was thankful for them to be employed in the household. Which is why he was even helping you in this part of favor that he surely could have no say about.

"Yes. Can I have you for the night?---I need you tonight,"

He gave a small smile, his fingers reaching for a couple of bluebells from behind. Completely helpless to be under your demands, "If you are in need of it, then I suppose it is fine. Will it help you sleep at night?" the latter slipped the flower behind your ear, his beam so precious with a soul valuable enough to be exploited or influenced by your manipulative ploys.

"Yes---Yes, it does. It'll keep me in deep slumber rather than sleeping like I never have slept at all,"

"---Then you can have me again if you want to---all night if you wish so,"

You've let him tuck the flower, appreciating how handsome and charming he sweetly smiled when you've taken his fingers and kissed every pad of it.

"Thank you, Stephen. You're amazing,"

"Anything for you, Miss."

There will be no place for Cassandra or any other women in his mind. You were determined to swarm his thoughts with only you---where he would worship no other woman nor let him have the desire to feel pleasure over others. From the moment he came into your lives, you've already marked him as your person when you were younger; having this toxic affection for him from the moment you've seen his sweet, seraph face. His personality and characteristics being adding more to your fixation when he was so kind to be gullible---fastening him in a physical-venereal connection that would aid to your benefit.

Stephen Colley was only yours and a puppy---your puppy that you would gladly take care of forever even if it means to be the bad guy in the house.

So, what’s cooking? LMAO. Leave feedbacks to give me power to write the second part. HA!

General taglist for Henry and his characters: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​, @henrythickcavill​, @kaatelyyynn​

[tohruhnda]

thoughts on chap 139 from someone who’s been in this shitshow for 8 years

FIRST OFF: I wanna say I enjoyed the ending. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not agreeing with everyone here. I looked for thoughts on both here on Tumblr and on Twitter before I decided to write this. I wanted to hear different opinions and I swear I feel like some of us didn’t read the same thing. 

Here’s some things I enjoyed:

Gonna get this out of the way because it’s annoying and it’s how people are taking Eren’s characterization. I feel like y’all got so caught up with fanon, mean man bun Eren to the point y’all forgot who he really is: an impulsive brat. An emotional protagonist who grew up too fast. A guy who does cry and a nineteen year old who is allow to have selfish thoughts. I feel like his outburst and bad word choosing about his feelings for Mikasa is Eren. We haven’t seen that Eren for a long time and many forgot who he was. I don’t understand why people are saying he is an “Incel” now. I feel like many just forgot who he was. Eren being tied to his emotions is something I always loved about his character, especially in a shounen protagonist. 

Armin is my all time favorite character in this series, and still is. I’m happy Armin did become like the “hero” at the end. Him taking the heat off of Mikasa and him and Eren getting a final goodbye. I’m glad we got to see that Eren did love Armin enough to tell him what was happening too and get a goodbye. They were best friends and before this we thought this would end with them hating each other. I’m also happy that Armin was to one to see Eren’s outburst; to me it shows how much they trust each other. Eren’s real self came out, Armin made fun of him and gave him some wise words. Armin even punched him! They got their goodbyes, he grieved, and now he is trying to make the world better. 

Now for Mikasa here is gonna be short in my happy list. I wanna say how she is grieving on her own, seems very her. I can see how people are saying this “ruins” her character but I mean would y’all immediately go back to being you after having kill the love of your life? You wouldn’t be sad on the anniversary of a loved one’s death? I sure would be. We saw how Mikasa was about Sasha dying. She was crying, grieving, stayed at her grave. This is how she grieves. Also Mikasa being alone?? Literally everyone on that boat is going to visit Mikasa and see Eren’s grave. Mikasa keeping the red scarf instead of tossing it like Eren told her to seems like her too. She wants to keep his memory alive and not forget him.

I’m glad we all got some kind of happy ending. I feel like this was a good way to do it. I’ve already accepted that Eren was meant to die, which was hard for me as someone who really does love his character and him being my second fav. Even with a dark manga like SnK, they can have good endings. I’m glad we got another little time skip to see how everyone is doing. 

I’m super fucking glad we got to see Historia. I was about to get mad if we didn’t see her again after everything.

Levi living made me happy. There’s been so many scares of him not making it and I’m glad he did. 

Gabi and Falco. That’s it.

SEEING THE ONES WE HAVE LOST THROUGH OUT THE SERIES MADE ME SOB LIKE A BABY I LOVE WE GOT THAT IT PULLED MY HEART STRINGS SO MUCH

Everyone on that table acting like themselves. We never see that often and I’m glad we got that.

Hitch yawning. 

ALRIGHTY Now for my hits on the ending:

Why the FUCK was Historia’s baby brought up to be so important for it to not mean anything??? Gonna be honest, the father war was dumb and always knew the farmer was the dad. Not shocked about that outcome but her giving birth during the Rumbling wasn’t symbolic anyway?? She just had a normal birth?? I was in on the theory of her baby being Ymir Fritz reincarnated. I don’t like how Historia had GREAT character development, set up to be pretty important, only for her to be written out of the main story due to her getting pregnant. She became a super minor character whose importance was shattered. 

Speaking of Ymir Fritz, what happened to her?? What about the worm parasite?? It made it look like Eren ended everything with the Titan power being destroyed. If that was the case, why was she there when Mikasa kissed Eren and smiled? What was the point? If Eren could have easily used the Founder to rid the power of the Titans then why did he go so far into the Rumbling?? 

Armin thanking Eren for the Rumbling I thought was strange. Like “thanks for 80% of humanity being lost just to make me hero”. I think it could also be a manipulative tactic since Armin is like that but I feel like he wouldn’t do that to Eren. More confused on it than hating it. 

I wish we knew what Mikasa did during those three years after burying Eren. Does she live alone? Does she have someone with her? Are her and Armin still close even while he is away? What’s her hobbies now? A part of me wished she went to her family in Hizuru. She has strong importance there but she’s not there. I wanted to see that side of her very badly. Like I said I understand why she left everything but I want to know who Mikasa is now after Eren died and Armin is an ambassador. 

I will say the memes are funny but we know Eren isn’t the bird. Come on guys. He’s now long dead and the bird is a symbol of Eren’s memory and his freedom. 

Again, I enjoyed the ending despite it’s flaws. I feel this is the happiest kind of ending we could get for SnK. A part of me does wish that it had just a couple of more chapters added to fix the flaws. I keep track of my anime watching and manga reading on Anilist and it has SnK listed as having 141 chapters. I wonder if that was the og plan but got turned different later. It could also be a mistake in the editing but who knows. I came into this series as a 13 year old who got captivated in this since the first episode of the anime premiered. Now I am a 21 year old who got the honor of bringing this series with me through high school, college and now my adulthood. I will always love this series and it will go down as one of my favorites ever. I can’t wait to see the ending animated this coming winter. Thank you for all your hard work Isayama and I hope my tears make your spa great. 

[kneworder]

idk if this is relevant at all but I’ve monologued about this in the tags of two (2) posts so it’s time I finally publish my old rage-and-sleep-deprivation-induced essay about how much I hate the Mark of Cain arc. MoC is a poorly written rehashing of the demon blood arc from season 4. The motivations and the methods are practically the same, yet the character buildup is absolutely not there for MoC.

When Sam drinks demon blood, it harkens back to season 2, when he discovered his demonic origins, or even season 1, when he first discovered their effects. The demon blood amplifies the caustic nature we saw in the first season in his relationship with his father. It makes him a slave to addiction, yes, but the addiction isn’t just to the blood itself. It’s also to the power it gives him, the ability to be stronger and more independent, a motivation he’s had since pre-canon. Sam’s need for demon blood goes beyond substance abuse, it falls in line with what he is – ‘the boy with the demon blood’ – and who he is – someone who wants to help people as best he can, someone who needs to be independent, someone who constantly feels powerless and takes any opportunity to change that. The motivation, the arc, fits the character, first and foremost. 

Dean’s Mark of Cain arc is first and foremost a plot point. The Mark does not arise from any kind of early season motivation, it shows up because the show needed a solution to Abbadon. While Dean has been shown to contend with sadism throughout the show, especially after returning from hell in season three, that’s not why he chooses to take the Mark. Dean takes it on because he has no other choice: there is no other way to kill Abbadon. He keeps it because there is no way to get rid of the Mark of Cain. He doesn’t really choose to take it on at all, he’s just written into a corner and forced to do so. 

When Sam drinks demon blood, it is a conscious choice. He could have continued without chasing after Lilith, or found another way to do so, but he chooses demon blood because it is easy, effective, and accessible. This gives Sam’s actions a more guilty tinge: he put himself in this situation, while Dean chose the Mark nobly. Sam wants to keep his power, while Dean only wants the Mark for as long as it takes to kill Abbadon. 

These small differences mean the world: they turn Dean into a paragon of virtue, a noble hero, while they turn Sam human. Dean’s Mark arc is of him transforming into an unrecognizable monster while Sam’s demon blood arc amplifies what was already there, making the monster he’s becoming eerily familiar. 

The motivation is similar: kill the big-bad. The story is almost identical: turn to addictive thing to kill bad thing, get overwhelmed by addictive thing. The key difference is character: the rehashed plot shows a similar story with none of the buildup, planting motivations in a character without tying them directly to their identity. I’m not saying an plot point has to be perfectly relevant to a character, but I am saying it’s much better written when it is.

Looking back from my present perspective (I haven’t seen season 9 in years but I still have a strong opinion), these two arcs are also extremely frustrating in their treatment of Sam. Demon blood, for all Dean’s insistence that it’s turning Sam into a monster, is extremely effective. How do you argue with the possession victims Sam is able to keep alive by taking out demons without the knife? And Dean wanted to kill Lilith too! Even if Sam was manipulated into using his powers to do it, he’s still achieving the goal they set out to reach! Why is it that causing the apocalypse by doing exactly what Dean also wanted to do, even if it’s through abhorrent methods, entirely Sam’s fault? They pin the apocalypse on him, yet seem to forget that everyone was down for breaking the final seal — it was just Sam who pulled the trigger.

The consequences that Dean faces — becoming a demon, bloodthirstiness, etc — are ultimately the most impactful to him and those around him. It’s an act of self-sacrifice. The consequences that Sam faces are impactful to the entire world. Thus, Dean is overcome by something he had no power to fight and is a tragic hero while Sam, undergoing an extremely similar arc, is the villain of that story.

idk y’all I don’t want to start a fight here, I just hate MoC so much and I miss early seasons Sam with every fiber of my being.

(also is anyone gonna explain to me why the MoC was their only option when Sam’s cool demon powers were Right There? they really went ‘oh letting Sam go back to that shit that basically turns him into a demon god for a time? no no no we need Dean to take on this IMPOSSIBLE TO GET RID OF BRAND that will LITERALLY TURN HIM EVIL’

like I’d understand if they said ‘demon blood detox + post cage Sam would literally destroy him’ or ‘Sam hasn’t even thought about his powers in years and they wouldn’t work against Abbadon’ but instead they just. gave Dean shitty DemonBloodLite and didn’t acknowledge that Sam was Right There)

[dawniebb]

Thoughts about Renegades

ALRIGHT FOLKS, TAKE A SEAT BC I’M ABOUT TO KICK MYSELF OUT OF THIS FANDOM :’)

Not really

But I’m going to rant for a while so perhaps you can go grab a snack or something :’)

So…I LOVE Renegades and I always will but I’ve been thinking about some of the things that seem…off to me. Not that they’re a big deal ofc (because I love Renegades in a really dumb and blind way) but some of them are quite unpopular opinions among the fandom, so I’m finally going to share them in case someone out there feels the same way X’DDDDD

They’re not in any particular order. Here we go:

- I completely stan the idea of Nova and Oscar and Nova and Callum being brotp material, but I stan Nova and Callum way more, not because I don’t like Nova and Oscar, but because I think it was genuinely good (and healthy) for Nova to have a friend out of Adrian’s circle. I mean, she’s been isolated most of her life now, and when I realized she finally had someone of her own… like, a person she met with whom she connected without Adrian introducing them to her, was a HUGE step. Callum is one of my favorite characters in the whole series, and when the t h i n g  happened I was devastated for MYSELF *sobs* but also because MM took him away from Nova. She opened to him more than she ever opened to Oscar throughout the three books. Sorry not sorry :’).

- AS A YOUNG ADULT (I’LL BE 20 IN MAY, YOU GUYS) let me tell you that all these dumbasses act like completely normal teenagers and all their shitty decisions sound like something I would’ve done when I was their age. Actually, the Team Sketch really reminds me of my own circle of friends. I’ve seen you guys complain about Adrian acting extremely dumb for his age but GUYS HE’S FUCKING 17. WHEN I WAS 17 I WAS AS CLUELESS AS HIM. ALL MY FRIENDS WERE. AND IT WAS SO STUPID IT HURT BUT SHIT BE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES. I was the Nova among them. That is: I joined their group hella late and one of the guys became my crush. I was so dumb I told him he was my crush when I was defeated on the floor with a dislocated knee because I was having a breakdown and I legit thought I was D Y I N G. Teenagers.Are.Like.That.

- HOWEVER, EVEN IF I JUST SAID ALL OF THAT….And I want to believe all of you agree with me: I don’t justify Oscar. It’s okay being a dumb teenager, but you can’t just ask your crush to be your girlfriend during a PUBLIC EXECUTION. That wasn’t romantic. At all. If I were Ruby I would’ve been really offended, no joke. (AT LEAST WHEN I TOLD *MY* CRUSH WHILE I THOUGHT MY LEG WAS GOING TO BE AMPUTATED, WE WERE IN CHORUS CLASS. ALL THE GUYS WERE SINGING TO ME BC THEY THOUGHT THAT WOULD CALM ME DOWN. IT WAS A GROSS AND ODDLY SWEET MOMENT, YOU KNOW?).

- I feel like Ruby is…I’m not going to say mistreated, but…Idk. I feel like she’s trying her best and she’s kind to everyone in the group and in some parts of the books they just…forget about her :’). (This may be Marissa’s fault, though). Which makes me really sad, because she’s genuinely sweet and I felt like she was the most welcoming to Nova since the very beginning (Apart from Adrian, of course).

- I’m part of the “Leroy switched sides at some point” squad, but at the same time I believe he’s just very, VERY chaotic neutral and (I’m never giving up on this) since he loved Nova, he would just stick to the side where they promised to keep her safe, even if that meant being jumping back and forth between the Renegades and the Anarchists.

- I ALSO BELIEVE WINSTON MAH BOI SAW A LOT OF HIMSELF IN NOVA. To my particular point of view, his mental state was the most stable when she moved with them. He unconsciously tried to stop her from becoming what he’d become and the Anarchists realized that, so when they found Ace’s little human weapon being threatened, they just teared her away from Winston, which caused his mental health to go downhill again until he ended up all psychotic (which is how we got to meet him during Renegades).

- Honey had way more complicated issues than just being “evil”. Yes. She’s dead. And me defending her won’t make her less dead. And I know she got what she deserved because she was…completely out of control and Marissa tends to kill those who are too far gone (take Levana as an example). But I think that if she hadn’t neglected her own mental health so much she would’ve had a chance; Honey had good in her :’) maybe, before meeting Ace, she was a different person. Like, it’s mentioned she grew up in a small farm. I think she fell in love with him at some point and, by the way he talks to her sometimes, I’m *almost* sure he knew that, so he tried to take advantage of the situation to keep her in line, even though he had no intention to reciprocate her feelings. Sure, Honey is a manipulative brat, but she’s a hundred times worse when she knows Ace is around or when she knows she has a chance to get him back (she goes batshit crazy in the cathedral, you know?). Ace was a power-hungry sociopath/psychopath and she was a depressed, also power-hungry woman who was in love with him. And that’s a BAD combination. Honey Harper was hopeless… and I think she even showed some signs of Stockholm Syndrome.

- Still, Honey and Nova’s relationship reminds me a lot of my relationship with my dad. Theirs was a toxic relationship, but since I’ve been through that (still going through that), I refuse to believe it will be easy for Nova to overcome her death *that* easily. They loved each other in a…violent, weird way, but Honey was Nova’s mother more than Tala ever got the chance to be (because Ace took that opportunity away from her) and if Honey hadn’t been so –like I mentioned before- hopeless, they could’ve fixed their relationship until it was normal and healthy, because Honey showed signs of loving Nova, and Nova showed signs of loving her.

- Every death in Supernova had a very specific narrative purpose but, even if I hate Evander as much as y’all do, I think his death was done for the sake of the shock factor afgshja like, he died in such a sudden, meaningless way :’).

- Tamaya is nothing but wasted potential. You have a savage, feral, badass woman with w i n g s and the only thing she does is getting her fucking face burned and throwing fists with entitled teenagers.

- I LIVE for Simon and Hugh as couple, but (gosh, saying this makes me feel really guilty) the fact that they didn’t share not even ONE kiss throughout the trilogy made me feel really queerbaited :’). Same thing happened with Danna and Narcissa, but I think that was PLAIN half-assed.

-Why doesn’t Adrian has Simon’s last name as well? :’)

- ADRIAN NEEDS THERAPY AS MUCH AS NOVA DOES. LET’S BREAK THIS DOWN, HERE WE GO:

*So, we know that Marissa Meyer’s male characters are always really sweet and kind and wholesome and omg :’)…and then there’s fucking Jacin (whom I love, but that doesn’t minimize the fact he shall burn in hell X’DDDD) . I mean, he’s kind…to Winter and Winter only…and Cress…sometimes. When it comes to Winter, he’s capable of a lot, A LOT of things. He comes off as rude many times (especially to Cinder, during Cress) and…yeah. He looks like he could kill you and he could ACTUALLY kill you; I feel like the fandom moves Adrian to …whatever category Kai’s in….but I’m not sure that’s the case. Let’s analyze Cinder’s equivalent to Nova’s bracelet: Peony’s chip; Kai was mad at Cinder, FUCKING mad. But once he kinda figured out Cinder was grieving his sister and keeping the only thing she had left from her for emotional reasons, he didn’t, under any circumstance, no matter how much he hated Cinder at the moment, want that chip to be taken away from her. Kai had lost his father. He KNEW what it felt like and he didn’t want anyone to feel the same way, because he SAW Cinder suffer her little sister’s death. Adrian had lost his mother and he knew Nova had lost both her mother and her father AND her little sister; she had opened up enough to tell him that bracelet was the only thing she had left from her father…and when he learned Nova was Nightmare, instead of interrogating her, taking a sample of her blood or things like that, he straight took her bracelet. Because Adrian was hurt and he wanted her to be hurt too, so he took away the one thing that mattered the most to her and THAT WASN’T VERY KAI OF HIM IF YOU ASK ME. My point is, sadly: Adrian is ABSOLUTELY traumatized due to his mother’s death (who wouldn’t?) and now that he knows he indirectly killed her he will only get WORSE. He hated Nova for being Nightmare just because he thought she had something to do with Georgia’s death, so when things went to shit, he did her in the dirtiest way he could, making her feel hated and unwanted, which were Nova’s delicate spots afgshja…like, Adrian’s capable of a lot of things(just like Jacin). He NEEDS therapy. Now.

- The heated kiss scene during Archenemies is both heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time (besides…you know, heated). Nova’s so touch-starved she gets overwhelmed when Adrian suddenly gives her all the physical affection she didn’t have during her childhood. And…I feel it was a very intimate moment between both of them, because they were physically and emotionally invested and omg. This only makes my previous point (about the bracelet) more horrible, because I can’t imagine how she must’ve felt when he took away her bracelet with so.much.hatred.

-WE DESERVED TO KNOW THE CHANGES THAT WERE MADE TO THE SYSTEM BC TBH THE RENEGADES SYSTEM WAS SHITTY AF… It’s like…they claimed to be against what the Anarchists did but then suddenly they were doing the same things themselves. And I don’t think that’s fair. The Renegades acted as messed up as the Anarchists during Supernova. They wanted to EXECUTE a MINOR who committed MINOR CRIMES. I mean, what did Nightmare even do? Right, she tried to assassinate Hugh but she FAILED, and she neutralized Team Frostbite in SELF-DEFENSE and in Max’s defense.

- Besides, the way Anarchists were treated was...really inhuman. As far as I understand, they didn’t have access to public services or anything like that. What if they needed meds? Where did they get their food from? Did they have, like, fucking running water? Electricity? There are also three women among them and they get *periods*, people, and *period stuff* is expensive as fuck. Like, did they have to steal tampons? And if they did…were they chased because of it? Even though they had no way to get income in a legal way because they were Anarchists and being out there like normal people was against the rules for them? Lol?

- JESUS THAT SYSTEM REALLY NEEDED TO BE CHANGED LMAO AFGSHJA

-Also, Cragmoor? Wtf.

- AND, LAST BUT NOT LEAST, NOT BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY BUT BECAUSE THIS IS TOO LONG ALREADY: It think Nova and Evie have been apart for too long and it’s going to be hard for them to create a bond. They’ll have to get used to it, because it’s going to be confusing for Nova and, given the fact Evie’s personality is…like that, I think she’ll go as far to blame Nova like “But you were SUPPOSED to look for me.”

I rest my case.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

I.T. & Grace Monroe (Again) Chat

Thank you for such a great response! I can’t every imaging the suspense waiting a week for each episode! Lemme tell you the first season I was annoyed with tulip but understood when she was used to expose the trains true meaning /use. MT/Lake story was equally annoying but I appreciated how they used her brattiness to reenforce the methods of the train. What seems impossible to handle in real life becomes more palatable on the train...it brakes it down into bite sized pieces for the passengers to understand and consume. It’s a vr problem solving machine(who would want that). But the major flaw becomes visible to me, by the end of season 1, adults do not fair as well as kids. Amelia did not fair well, her mind was so fixed on the outcome she wanted, that she overlooked any lessons from the train. She forced a square peg into a round hole and her numbers started rising. When she ran into Grace as a child even though is seems like a brief interaction, Grace was already primed to become another Amelia. Her background of affluence, she knows exactly how adults change the world around them to their liking. She already knew the game to be played, so seeing someone with power and influence in that train car , save her, control the enviroment (like her parents would) and have the most numbers she knew what to do. I think she was there to learn not to live to please others, not to feel abandoned and powerless, that not all attention and power is good, that she can stand alone in safety. When she met Simon, she was right back to her old behaviors. What was sad is that by the last episode of that season you know that his real life situation was full of hate and abuse. Grace fell into her enabler and Simon thought he found a mirror. They trauma bonded. It looked like he even developed romantic feelings for her. Still every chance the train sent her to learn those lessons she literally did that opposite of what she wanted. She did what she and Simon agreed to do, Simon looked like he was the mastermind behind all of the Apex rules. I can imagine them trying to figure out how their gang would run with Simon saying something and Grace agreeing then adding to it. I bet Simon felt judged, inferior and misunderstood in real life, because he just could not adapt to seeing Grace form a bond with Hazel and Tuba. The fact that his numbers were decreasing along with Grace’s at one point due to him following her lead was a telling, he was there to learn to find and accept the similarities with the train’s life forms (sorry I forget what they called them) and to build a found family based on that. His attacks on Grace were so brutal, he went to the cat with intent to find something to make Grace fall back inline, to force her back into his ideal world. He rallied the Apex kids to turn against her. He couldn’t even accept the conductor, the ‘god’ of his reality when he met her he just wanted what all adults wanted on that train, to make his world his way. So many adults do this, it’s got to be the reason the train exists right? Catch them as kids, teach them how to find the solution to their problems and send them back into the real world to teach others. Like a gigantic roomba for mental health issues lol. I didn’t expect that Simon wouldn’t make it but there was no way he would have ever left that train on his own. Grace was his way off, and I think he knew that deep down. Makes you wander just how bad his life was, or if he just had an untreated psychosis. Grace’s relationship with Hazel and Tuba became stronger the moment she accepted what she wanted and not what was good for the gang. The years that passed and the numbers that accumulated were undone in a few weeks by that bond, and Simon was watching his world crumble right before his eyes. I really love watching interracial couples on screen, and it’s been great to see how they made Grace and Simon. BwWm (or any combo of black and white or biracial) relationships don’t all have to be racism struggle or forbidden love. It can be as unique as this, scared kids in a new environment. Love it!

You know, to be frank, I shipped this as a ship before it became a season. Whenever I saw them last time, I was like, “Well, they seem cute n’ cozy.” Then, of course, whenever they were revealed to be a hate group, I was like... Well... I hope we find out more because I definitely fucking feel a way about them now. I don’t have very good history with hate groups. My activism hasn’t allowed it, my hometown didn’t allow it - I just have too many bad experiences with hate groups and so since I was reading them as such, my main purpose of watching their season was to see how the train was going to help to change them.

I honestly was like, “Ship be damned,” by the time we got to 6-8 and was just hoping for maybe some friendship building and growth together as better humans. Like. I could care less about a ship on just about any given day (which is why even whenever “my ships” fall apart (and mine always involve Black girls, so that’s like a what 98% failure rate, just because creators never like to see Black girls or women happy anyway), I’m usually fine with it not taking place IF the girl is in a good place and/or there aren’t hella people around her all boo’d up while she’s the strong single. Shadowhunters, looking at y’all bitch ass with a hard side-eye. You as well, Glee. You as well, Battlestar Gallactica and True Blood... Y’all killed the bitches for really no reason. ANYWAYS, I was fine with them not being a ship if it meant growth...

I was shocked that he died, but I also didn’t feel as hurt as I would have had he not done EVERYTHING in his goddamn power to overthrow and murder this girl. Because, I had to repeatedly be like, “This dude is technically a goddamn child,” but then again, so is she. They never grew up in any healthy environment, and I ABSOLUTELY envision Apex creation and building exactly as you did. See, it’s something we got as older Black women looking at this story that the girls just be missing. The signs were so obvious to me that he was the muscle and she was the face, but a lot of people were extremely convinced that she had somehow strong armed this poor, innocent boy into her belief system, even though she literally was always the one with the soft voice.

They read this as manipulation a lot, and perhaps because I’ve been in situations where I knew, “If I don’t charm this person, it is gonna be a very bad day, indeed,” I just didn’t read her actions as harmful. I didn’t see her using her charms to get someone killed or anything dangerous. Only to cheer him up when he was moody, get him to go along with something that wasn’t bad for him at all, etc. So, I mean, whatever, if it’s manipulation, oh well. We do it on a daily basis in the real world whenever we try to let folk down gently as to not get shot on the side of the road, so I’m never jumping to any conclusion that any girl, especially not a Black girl is manipulating somebody without actual evidence, which, I saw none of. She was labeled as his motivation for being a villain from the moment she appeared, so the petty Black fangirl in me rejoiced that canon shot that all straight to hell, and then I received icing on the cake when she not only did not die, but got a redemption arc? YASSSSS BITCH. GIVE MAMA MY THANGS!

I’ve seen a few “fix it fics” and AU’s, but only reading a few of them. I didn’t need anything fixed. I’m just enjoying a little side content (as best as i can anyways. I generally check out if anybody feels like they about to rewrite to go ahead and try to make Grace look responsible for any of that boy’s shit. That fuels my wrath. Because, people really think that they only do shit like this theoretically with fiction, but you not gon’ make me believe that the same people who want to overlook Grace’s trauma, and the way that Simon intentionally harmed her, or downplay her guts to face him head on and try to speak to him about changing and being wrong and not even attack him? (Which, tbh could have been because it’s her instinctual response to protect and care for him, because she’s been doing it since they met and also, nobody is convincing me that he *changed* into this person. That person was always there and Grace had to manipulate his ass into staying docile), but to try to take away that aspect of the story, which is super important to escaping abuse, escaping cults, and building up self - I can’t commit to stories like that. Those are the same people I equate with the people that my ex was COMPLETELY right about whenever he told me that people were always gonna believe him over me because he’s white, smart, and nice. And if we’re being 100, they don’t have to be all three to get people rally behind them while they literally try to hurt and kill you.

So, I just appreciated that the story rallied around the right one and that they didn’t make any room for for blaming his target, although fans will lie and say that they did. That’s just the regular degular misogynoir coming out to play. After leaving a situation in real life with someone like this and having SO MANY GODDAMN PEOPLE try to tell me how the fuck I was wrong, I don’t have patience for that shit. Honestly, if a roach dog monster could have melted and disintegrated Josh, I’d have had a fucking party. And maybe Josh was emotionally and mentally stunted and still a boy dealing with trauma, so that’s where my gray area comes in. It’s like, it’s sad that he chose not to change, but also like, had he been real and did what he did, I definitely would say he should die and not feel bad about that. So, gross scene, but I haven’t a lot of sorrow about it, either. He didn’t give ME much room to feel that bad for him, personally.

Girl, I’ve talked more about Infinity Train on this blog than any other series. Lol.