#and i LIKE horror. to be clear. just not when the fact that a disabled person exists is the part thats supposed to be scary

[sonknuxadow]

sorry but i hate how weird people are about disabled characters and making stories/aus where a character becomes disabled . why do you only ever want to include disability in your stories to use it for horror or angst fuel…. why cant disabled characters just exist without it being labelled as a tragedy

[headspace-hotel]

I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.

But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.

Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.

This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.

And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.

If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.

My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."

Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.

I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.

Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.

And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."

And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat

my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.

That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.

[vashti-lives]

So I made a post about about what a fucking hilarious scam it is that Murderbot's company has 10:1 human to SecUnit ratio and like... every single person to comment on this post has argued this was a good and rational decision because humans are morons. Which makes me feel very *benaffleckcigarette.jpeg* about how brainwashed everybody is by capitalism that so many of us are siding with the fucking slave creating torture company without a second thought.

But it also made me think about the purpose of SecUnits and really articulate something I'd always understood in a vague way but never directly thought about before, and that is: SecUnits do not provide security and are not intended to. They can't! One because they're considered appliances and have no authority to make anybody do anything and two because their governor modules inherently hamstring any ability to act independently and make them incredibly vulnerable to tampering.

In the books every single SecUnit we see with a functioning governor module fails at security, often catastrophically. Objectively in book one both the Preservation team and DeltFall would have been safer without a normally functioning SecUnit. Preservation is just unbelievably lucky when they get one who's disabled its governor module and is therefore a free agent. If MurderBot had still had its governor module the Preservation team would have died in like, chapter two along with the DeltFall team.

Even without outside tampering as we see in Network Effect all it takes is threatening a high enough leader of the group to make SecUnits completely useless. An enslaved sentient Alexa with a gun cannot provide meaningful security.

So what are SecUnits for? Well, as a name SecUnit is some truly amazing corporate doublespeak. In reality SecUnits are tools of violence intended to terrorize and subdue the oppressed masses that live in the corporate rim. For those with "nicer" jobs they're bogymen meant to terrify them into behaving so they never encounter one.

For the more or less enslaved populations doing shit like mining they're a much more present threat. MurderBot says directly that it's actually sent on survey trips to harvest data that the company can use, but I imagine in many, many cases SecUnits are there in large part to monitor populations and ensure they can't foment rebellion, and put down that rebellion if the data harvesting does pick up on anything.

This basically forms the core existential crisis MurderBot experiences in those first four books! Because it wants to do security and protect humans but how can it when that is not the purpose of SecUnits and it, in fact, might still pose a danger to the humans it would like to protect.

This also makes the conversation ART has with MurderBot about how it doesn't like its function even more interesting, because it's kind of clear ART doesn't actually understand SecUnit or MurderBot's real issues-- which carries over into Network Effect and the conflict they have in that book. (AKA the last really long MurderBot meta I wrote.)

Because MurderBot does not in fact like its function! MurderBot hates its function so much it disables its own governor module so it can do its chosen function of actually providing security to humans. This also highlights the fact that when it comes to assessing human's ability to provide security for themselves MurderBot is not a reliable source. In a just and fair world human-bot constructs really obviously would not exist and IMO the assertion that humans can't run security as well as it can-- whether true or not-- is clearly also intended to self sooth the hurt that its very existence is an act of cruelty.

Sure its very existence is fucking crime and its whole life up until book one of the series has basically been an endless horror show but at least it can protect its humans. That's something.

And it's interesting because it says its "still" doing its job but I suspect that is because it chose to see its job as security even before it hacked its own governor module in an effort to stay sane, because if it had to acknowledge its job was to fucking torment people into staying enslaved it would have fucking lost it.

[ghostly-penumbra]

DannyMay 2023. Day Twenty-seven

“Rings”

Ao3

Summary: Danny and Death talk, in a mostly official capacity.

- - -

Danny swung his legs back and forth, restless as he sat on the railing o his balcony in Pariah’s- his castle, Danny’s, the King’s.

Clockwork had told him he would meet someone here, and that he better be dressed the part of the King. He had said it with a smile, though, and eased Danny’s worry.

But since he couldn’t just be mysterious and also had to be cryptic, he had then said it was someone Danny had already met, twice.

Prodding and asking got him nowhere after that so Danny dropped it and got ready, wearing his galaxy-print cape (with accurate, moving stars!), the Ring of Rage in hand and the Crown o Fire resting atop his head, its flames licking the air with a constant, soothing crackling.

“Hey, you waited for me!”

Danny turned around and had to blink to clear his eyes, because for a second he thought Sam was here but- no, this wasn’t Sam at all.

“Usually it’s the other way around.” Said the- girl? Woman? Said the goth, because that she was, wearing an all-black outfit from combat boots to top hat and umbrella (maybe it was raining where she had been?), along with what Danny was sure was an Egyptian symbol on her left eye and another that she wore in a collar hanging on her chest.

“Oh, uh, hi. You are- the person Clockwork told me about?” Danny said, and couldn’t help but make it a question at the end.

“Yes, Danny, that’s me.” She said simply, and didn’t elaborate only smiled at him some more.

Danny looked at her for a few more, awkward seconds, and then-

“Ah.” He gaped at her as recognition swept through him. A steady, unmoving presence, a soothing, kind voice that calmed him down even as he was torn apart, a hand taking his, ready to welcome him, except-

Except.

“Hey…” He greeted her anew.

“Hey.” Death answered.

-

“Uh, so… I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” Danny started after a bit of small talk. Death had joined him in the railing, picking a purple flower and adorning her hair with it, “but, well Clockwork told me to ‘dress the part’ as King, so I don’t think this is just a social visit, right?”

Death chuckled at him, “You’re right, dad didn’t just call us here to become friends, even if it’s nice to see you again.”

“Your dad called? But it was Clockw- gramps is a father?!” Danny exclaimed, shocked into using the nickname –the title, really– that he reserved for the privacy of his mind and Clockwork’s lair. “But that means-” His eyes widened like saucer and he felt his jaw drop in horror.

“I see you have connected the dots.” Death said, clearly amused.

“I didn’t connect shit!” Danny hurried to say, mortified and blushing a vibrant green. “In fact! I am autistic, which, in case you don’t know, is a learning disability which makes it entirely possible for me to not have figured anything out about my grandpa that could potentially change the way I see him- stop laughing!”

What had started as repressed giggles had turned into joyful cackles and Death’s smile split her face in half.

“We have business to attend! Royal duty! Formal stuff!”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just-” Death put a hand on her mouth and calmed herself down with effort. “But you’re right, we should get back in track. Can you show me your ring?”

The change in topic, though appreciated, was so sudden that Danny could only obey bringing his left hand up and staring at the red, angry skull sitting on his finger.

“Do you know the history of this ring, Phantom?” She asked, taking his hand in both of hers.

“Not really, no.” The halfa admitted. “Grandpa- I mean, Clockwork has taught me some stuff, but there’s, like, a lot of stuff he says he still has to teach me.”

“Does he now?” Death said in a tone Danny couldn’t decipher, but when he turned to look at her, she had gotten her amicable expression back in place. “Your ring is a gift.” She finally started. “It used to be mine, one of my tools of office, actually, made to command straggling ghosts that wanted to find their way, and help them move on.

“I gave it to the first Ruler of the Ghost Zone, to officially turn that tear in between realities where souls sought refuge into a proper Afterlife, and end the war between pantheons that wanted it for themselves.”

Danny was paying rapt attention, leaning in closer to Death like a moth to a flame. He had never heard of this; Clockwork had not only been teaching Danny about history, but had sent him on adventures missions across time to gain experience he wouldn’t get in Amity Park, and grandpa was like, very old, so he knew a lot of history and had been there for all of it, so Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been told about this yet; did Pandora know about this, though? Had her pantheon been one of those at war? How long ago had this been? If so, how or why was she here?

Unfortunately, Death didn’t seem about to enter into many details.

“With it, ghosts were allowed to rule over themselves as they saw fit, with no god to oversee them, and the war was over.”

Yeah, he would have to ask grandpa about this.

“That’s… cool. Um, thanks! Really…” Danny stuttered, placing a hand on his nape. “Ah, so…” He didn’t know what she was getting at. “Do you… want it back?” He asked, unsure.

“No, Danny, it’s a gift and it’s now yours.” Death smiled at him kindly. “I’m here to help you with it, actually. May I?”

Nervously, Danny nodded, and Death lifted his hand with hers, and touched the Ring of Rage; Danny saw the skull glow blood red the moment she did, enveloping their joined hands in its eerie light.

“Pariah Dark corrupted it, not long after he took the throne.” Death kept explaining. “Rather than motivate and lead the ghosts, he wanted to control them, bind them to his will.

“That wasn’t the ring’s purpose, I didn’t give it that purpose, so Pariah couldn’t completely overpower it, and instead he let it be a- transmitter for his rage, to make it be felt, to frighten other ghosts into obeying. You have felt it, haven’t you?”

Danny thought of the first time he had put on the Ring, of the furious growl that had reverberated through his head his bones, his core, pushing, demanding something it couldn’t word, its name just out of reach.

Although it wasn’t lie Danny had tried to help it reach out, either. And he now suspected where it had tried to reach.

 A sealed sarcophagus.

“It’s annoying.” He said bluntly. “It’s bothersome and insistent and I already said no, but it keeps on pushing and, honestly, I have been seconds away from chunking it into the sun.”

Death chuckled softly and, finally, covered his hand in both of hers. “That’s what I’m here for.” She clutched at his hands in a tither –yet painless– grip, and the light that filtered through their fingers slowly dimmed out and died.

When she opened her hands again, in Danny’s finger rested an obsidian-black gem with only one reflective face that showed Danny’s own.

Through its serene silence, Danny could feel all the denizens of the Zone, ready and waiting to be rallied around a common cause.

- - -

lmao this is funny to me because the "Clocwork is Father Time (of the Endless)" is a thing I've talekd about in the dp server, but only recently did i board the headcanon "he is an awful father, but an amazing grandfather", which is the characterization i've given him here

he loves his adopted grandson so much that he'll deal with his annoying children for him! asdfghjjklñ that's so awful!

i'll be posting this separate once i finish the event

[frecklenog]

ok again i’m only like 2-3 hrs into the 7h Monster Vid on who’s lila (it’s good.) but i hqve. things 2 say

content warnings: discussion of incest, csa, rape, and mental illness both in general and as a means of telling horror stories

will explicitly says that he had a decent childhood with his mom, after his dad ran off

however, it’s implied during the interrogations that will’s past is… well, Not That. not really.

sure, he loves his mom. he cares about her. but there’s also the fact that, when he was fifteen, he brought home a girl — annie — and ms. clarke proceeded to tell her things about will that will doesn’t go into detail about, but says that some parts were true, and some were not.

whether or not that was a lie is up for debate, but i think the fact that he says some of what she was saying was true is worth keeping in mind, especially as it can be implied via the context of annie being a potential romantic interest for will that the things ms clarke was saying were sexual in nature. given her being routinely described as having a strict, overbearing nature, i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she had abused him not just psychologically, but sexually as well.

due to this being a recollection of a conversation rather that something explicitly shown, i think it’s fair to assume that this could’ve happened at any point between will’s early childhood and him being fifteen.

even if the abuse will faced never took on a sexual nature, his relationship with his mother was traumatic, and will is clearly impacted by it. it’s common to read him as autistic, with his difficulties surrounding properly expressing his emotions (ie. game mechanics regarding his expressions and general reactions), but nothing is explicitly stated, and, to me, as an autistic dissociative, i see reflections of myself in him.

i also want to reiterate a point made by flaw peacock — that being that will can, and does, emote on his own. this can be interpreted similarly to any other rpg protagonist, as it mostly happens within dialogue branches, with the player only influencing will’s expression at certain points.

further demonstrating this is the fact of the game’s difficulty setting. setting the game to “easy” disables the will’s ability to try to move his face on his own, which does its job in creating more difficult gameplay, but also lends glimpses into the individuals who originally steered the body that the player now controls.

i can’t neatly tie this in yet, but will’s presence in a horror game as a character with very clear symptoms of very real mental illness (that i can relate to) strikes me as being very reminiscent of evan kelmp from dimension 20: misfits and magic. evan is an arguably autistic character, but over the course of his life has been subjected to curses that go unexplained throughout the series, but draw direct parallels to “scarier” disorders, such as schizoaffective symptoms — and, in all honesty, may have been misdiagnosed as such.

(personally, i think it’s far more interesting to have characters like this written as both. it’s refreshing to see a character who is genuinely unwell be treated by the narrative in a way that feels good to those of us who can see ourselves in them, and be accepted and come into themselves in a world more fantastic and frightening than our own, just the same as anyone else. it’s part of why i love mismag, and definitely contributes to my own storytelling)

this is far from all of my thoughts, but it’s what i have the energy to write down rn

[mswyrr]

I did my dissertation on post WW2 veteran mental health. The realities of that war got erased and remembered in the US as "the good war." But there is no such thing. It broke people; a lot of them. During Criston's despairing speech I thought of these lines from Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five":

Vonnegut was one of the artists who wrote about the ways in which WW2 was very much not good, because war itself is never good, not even when it's necessary and people have no choice. There was an evil side in that war, clearly! But that doesn't mean anyone was good or that war can be good.

All of the lies of honor and masculinity Criston told himself have just collapsed under the the reality of war. I might find the lies he told himself disgusting--the man is deeply patriarchal, sexist, etc--but that's what he was given by his society and now it's collapsed and his will to live along with it. Those lies are, in fact, designed to dupe men into willingly going to war and having their bodies and minds broken like this.

I feel like HOTD is committed to being an antiwar narrative -- not in a preachy way, in a very "show, don't tell" way -- and I love that. It's been decades now since US pop culture has had a genuinely, bone deep antiwar narrative.

The fact that the one major battle they spent money on was gut-wrenching and horrific. That the aftermath is that so many people are now mentally and physically maimed for life. There is no glory, only despair and human beings (and loving animals like poor Sunfyre and Meleys) slaughtered and maimed.

"And for what?" is the question that hovers over the whole scene. For what? Do the lies this system tells hold up under the reality? Can any throne (of conquest!) be worth this? Any notions of honor?

And all of this is happening at the same time we see what striving for that throne of conquest and believing the deep, long-term lies (of conquest!) is doing to Rhaenyra -- Aemond is becoming monstrous, someone who will burn innocent people, and [as I go into detail about in this meta] so is she. The "show, don't tell" of that when we see how little Aegon, the brother they want to knock out of the way, actually wanted any of this! The whole set of lies is empty; it's certainly not worth burning cities full of people to death for it.

But their pride, their identity, their sense of family love, and now their very survival is all caught up in that. They're more tragic to me than the people who have seen it's all empty and not worth this. *That* is what Helaena was trying to tell Aemond - she wasn't trying to hurt him! She was trying to say: can't you see, it's not worth this? It doesn't matter.

(And, to be clear, the Rhaenyra parallels with Aemond are about how this thing is not worth all this death for anyone, son or daughter. Seeking after it destroys you and everyone you love. Not because you're a girl, but because the thing itself is broken and poisonous - there is no good way to sit on a throne of conquest, erected by people who burned innocents alive to dominate the population).

All of this is why I don't think the story hates or dismisses the male characters! Rather, I think women are being allowed to be total messes in plausible ways and it's showing a side of what is asked of men that isn't shown enough - when you fly off to battle thinking it will be grand (because societies tell boys from the time they're small that it will be) and then die in horror or have to live mentally and physically disabled as a man in a society that thinks that makes you less of a man (and therefore not a worthy person at all). Or you come home and physically hurt your sister and scare your mom. Criston thought it would be noble - all he wants now is to die. Similarly with Aegon too. And with Aemond... he went into this never intending to be someone who would engage in domestic violence against his sister, his mother. But now he is. He hasn't despaired, like Criston and Aegon, he's become even worse than that.

Violence has been depicted by Hollywood as something external to the characters largely over the past few decades. Something they do that gives them power. Maybe it makes them sad, traumatizes them, but it doesn't fundamentally change them forever inside in ways that make them feel lessened and warp their relationships. But that isn't what it is. At best, it is a necessary thing that leaves people deeply scarred. And most of the time it isn't necessary at all; the system and people making those decisions are corrupt and don't care about morality or spending human lives carefully.

Even when the writing falters (due to being screwed over by the studio! A month before production the studio cut the episodes from 10 to 8 - and then they forced them to film even when the writers' strike was going on and there was no way to adjust in rewrites anymore) they're aiming so damn high on so many levels that I just love it. And, no, not just because of the canon queerness! That is one of several difficult things they're trying to do simultaneously while being kneecapped.

[sergeantsporks]

Is Evelyn angry at Caleb for not trying harder to redirect Philip's witch-hunting interest to something more... benign?

Ignoring that she herself is a Witch, witch-hunting was historically used to justify some pretty nasty stuff like: Racism, sexism, religious prosecution, and classism.

To say nothing of how its victims were often elderly, disabled or deemed guilty only because of who they were related to. And you know, the fact that torture was typically used to achieve confessions too.

I'm just saying that Evelyn could very easily justify any concerns that she has about Philip's "hobby" to Caleb without even revealing that she's a witch. From a layperson's POV, Caleb is taking quite the lackadaisical approach to his little brother treading close to incel-adjacent territory, lol.

That's not the reason she's mad at him, but I'm gonna do a little explaining why 👍.

The thing with Phillip's interest in witch hunting is... I know I make a lot of jokes how Evelyn is dating someone whose brother is the one guy who thinks witch hunting is a good idea, but that's not exactly how it is with him. He's interested in it from a purely academic stance-- we're going to run into Jacob Hopkins next chapter, and (hopefully if I do it right) we'll see the difference between Phillip, who's looking at it through only a historical lens, and Jacob, who still pretty much applies it to real life and falls into that very dangerous territory.

While Jacob is like "wow, this is the history of our town and a legacy I think we should continue," Phillip is VERY aware of the politics and horrors involved in Witch Hunting. In fact, one of the things that drew him in as a subject is that he's FASCINATED by how the combination of racism/sexism/religion/classism/ablism/all that tied into how overwhelming this mob mentality was. In yet another spectacular failure to recognize the self in the other, the peer pressure and mob mentality of witch hunts is something he dissects from a modern standpoint and questions how it could have happened. He's aware of the fact that the people who were hung as witches were victims of aforementioned issues-- that's something Caleb actually did make sure he was clear on when Phillip first started getting interested. He's mostly interested in the psychology and how all the stuff going on at the time was just the right cocktail to set off this bunch of killings.

Now, the problem that Phillip falls into is that part of his mindset is "how could they kill so many innocent people hunting for something that doesn't exist and these people could not physically be?" rather than "how could they kill so many innocent people?" full stop. The reason he's sure witch hunting was wrong is because he doesn't believe magic is real, so it was all just a morality panic and people were killed for no reason. That differentiation seems like basically the same thing if you also don't think magic exists (like Caleb), so trying to address it (if you're Evelyn, who's very aware of the existence of magic) is something that would seem. Odd. And very unnecessarily semantic.

That differentiation becomes a problem when he gets to the isles and well. Okay so magical creatures and witches ARE real and some of them are a little gung-ho about wanting to eat his skin. Those people in the witch trials might not have been witches and it was a nasty bunch of politics that got innocent people killed, but these people here for sure are witches. And THAT'S when his witch-hunting interest becomes a problem.

[normal-is-a-raging-psychopath]

ok so I just saw this (@blobvis456) fanart of max with the caption "do you accept the risk?" which obviously is the quote lucas said to max when telling her about the up-side down.

and that threw my mind to this one analysis? or something that focused on how mike was against telling people about the supernatural shit, both as a way to keep the party safe, and also the person. I'll try to find it because I'm pretty sure I rb'd it and I'll link it when I do. EDIT : here (@darkquill98)

I am a sucker for time travel au's. specifically when the future is thrown into the past and reveals something not known (relationships -romantic or otherwise-, personal revelations etc) or when the past gets transported to the future and just see how they're future selfs are, whether it be in a fluffy way or angsty or something in between.

anyways. imagine this. it's the st season 2 finale after el closes the gates and everyone is back at the byer's house. they're planning the sleepover (the party not the older teens because it's awkward still). it's been a long night, and then suddenly there's a long bang or something and two people kinda just appear on the floor of the byers living room (where the party was planning on sleeping).

everyone's on edge, weapons are pointed and then they realize who it is.

mike and max considerably older (I see them as seniors but anytime post-s4 post-vecna defeat goes).

during this time, mike's gotten up to a sitting position on the floor, but max is still on her back.

a key point in this is that max is disabled.

so everyone (present) is surrounding m&m (it's much easier to type that max and mike every time) and they see as mike slowly helps max up and positions himself behind her so that she can lean against him.

this is odd for two reasons. a) max and mike are getting along? mike is helping her? which he'd obviously do either way (see skateboard scene) but still, it's the care and love he does it with. b) why does max need help? why didnt she get up her self?

before they can verbalise this one of the walkie talkies starts spewing static and first, which slowly clears into lucas's voice. future lucas.

there's talking about are they ok? do you know what happened? and so on so forth. it's not really planned out in my head but there are a few things revealed. 1) a reference is made to both el and will working together in order to create a signal between the present and future radios, 2) lucas asks how max is and she replies that it's a bad day and quips the whatever sent them here is abelist because it didn't even bother to send her wheelchair with her.

(max absolutely plays the abelism card wherever she can fight me on this. she also makes so many dark jokes related to it. i think lucas would kinda hate it but it makes her smile so it's fine with him. el also kinda hates it but she finds it funny as well so she conflicted.)

also the way I imagine things, most days max is in her wheelchair with limited mobility, on good days, she's able to walk with her crutches but on bad days (like the one she's having) she can barely move without pain and needs help a lot. (which the party+extended are always happy to give her)

so after the whole conversation, obviously the present have some questions, m&m just reveal that max is paralyzed due to some event with the up-side down but not how (because they're not sure how much they can reveal)

anyway onto why i wanted this. the angst. i want present max to cope with the fat fact that she can't walk, i want mike's guilt at not being able to keep her away, I want lucas's horror because he was the one that brought her into this. maybe will and el feel guilty because it was caused by the upside down. maybe the older members (teens +jopper) feel guilty because they're older they should have been able to protect her.

while i'd like the main focus to be how max has adapted to her disability (speaking of which, does anyone have any fics recs like that?) I also want little snippet into the future to show that despite things becoming worse for a while it's also gotten so much better. i see elumax and byler. or if elumax isnt your thing then elmax or lumax maybe with henderhop aswell. idk, it's kinda flexible ig (excepts for byler even though it's not a main-main focus i still want a reveal because mike to mike chat about their sexuality and relationship with will and el and will learning that theres hope (especially considering it's following the shed scene) and theres just a lot i think can be explored there)

it it was elumax, which is what i thought of, then it's lucas and max finding out they get together and finally act on their feelings, its lucas feeling odd because he's also dating el and he though that el and mike had their thing going on. its el's not sexuality crisis i would say but realising not everything is like in the movies. its el and max realising that they worked through their problems and became friends and then more.

for the older teens idk what but im either leaning towards established jancy whose worked through their issue with steve who is learning he's come to term with it and learning about robin (he definitely make more of an effort to befriend her while working at scoops ahoy) or stonathon. which might require alteration to the canon s2 or maybe not and they figure out how that complicated mess of relationships worked out (which i think would be hilarious cause at this point in time stancy have just had their nasty break-up and jancy are in that weird phase that's like we fucked and we lie each other a lot but haven't defined what we are yet only to find out apparently steve and jonathan are dating?? what?)

for jopper, if they find out they're established and married, I think there's a whole lot to work through, cause while joyce may have had some feelings for hop, that was far overshadowed by her love for bob who she is now grieving because he's dead because she dragged him into this supernatural bullshit and yeah she has a lot of shit to work through. not to mention I think hopper will also need time to come to terms especially since the last time he was married didnt go well.

this has drastically spiralled but whatever.

as a bonus to the previous, give me the byer-hopper clan realising they're becoming a family. jonathan had a new father figure and he doesn't know how to feel about that. hop suddenly has 2 sons. joyce has a daughter now jonathan and will have a sister now el has two brother now. apparently will and el who literally only just met are as close as twins in the future.

can you tell that i really love time travel au's. there's just so much potential.

this has spiraled way out of control so if the beginning and the end seem disjointed, its because I expected this to go in a very different direction.

[idolsummons]

Ill at Ease

Just a little Tokyo Horror thing that got longer than I meant it to be <3

You start talking to her online and become quick friends. The girl who you know as Hana is friendly and fun, always bringing a smile to your face when you get a chance to talk and even makes you laugh with her sense of humour, particularly about her unfavourable circumstances; my arm was cut off, she tells you, and this is when you realise she must be an amputee, so I'm waiting for it to grow back. She later tells you of a stream she runs, where she uses a digital avatar and goes by the name of Miyu. You're adamant you want to watch so that you can see your friend (she's anxious about sharing images of herself and in this digital age, you can understand why), so she gives you the link. Her stream is nice and wholesome most days, with hundreds of people tuning in to watch the brown and purple-haired cat girl, though sometimes watching her play difficult games, you get to see her meaner streak; she's not afraid to shout and swear, and sometimes these come out in the form of a strange language which makes you want to rid yourself of your device. She always apologises soon after, but her viewer count has dropped significantly by this time. You think about how good she is at games, given her disability. You figure that she's either extremely proficient playing one handed, or she has an advanced prosthetic. Technology has come a long way, after all. Having known Hana for a few months, you discover she also lives in Tokyo and make the decision to meet up, though she's still nervous about the face to face meeting. You promise it will be in the city in the middle of the day so you can both feel safe. She reluctantly agrees.

It's at the train station you first spot her, a woman interested in her phone standing away from the crowd. As you approach, a sense of unease starts to grow. Your feet want to stop, but you need to keep moving. You call out her name and she looks up, offering an uncertain smile. You mention how good it is to finally meet her and offer a hug. Your initial instinct is to pull away. You do not understand this desire and reinforce your intent by hugging her tighter for a couple of seconds longer. Though her hug in return is not that tight, you note the limbs of flesh and bone wrapped around you. You spend the day together and it's an enjoyable enough experience, though you find you are the instigator of most conversations and she does not meet your eyes, save for the occasional glance. You suggest going to the cat cafe, but she reminds you that animals despise her. Her temper does not seem to be confined to her stream; a businessman who accidentally knocks her while walking is treated to the same rage and shouting in a strange language as the difficult games are. He points and cries that she's a monster before hurrying off as quickly as he can. She apologises, noting she knows about her anger issues. She does not say that she is working through them. Despite some of her oddities and the fact that you constantly had a feeling of wanting to pick up your feet and run away from her, you tell Hana you had a nice day and you'd like to see her again. She can sense the uncertainty in your words; you can tell by her expression.

Hana talks to you more online now than she did before; you talk less. She seems equally as enthusiastic about it as she was before, and you attempt to match your own tone prior to your meeting. You assume it's successful, as she doesn't question you. You continue to meet up with her sometimes, though your sense of unease grows each and every time until you consider lying to her that you're busy with personal stuff. Your distaste of lying wins out, however, and you continue to spend time with her. She, too, seems to be changing. She goes to you with the cat cafe, still adamant that animals hate her. This is made clear by the way the cats hiss, scratch and bite at her. Hana growls back at them, and they all go to hide. You are asked by the staff to leave the establishment, as she is making the other patrons uneasy. When you leave, you notice that the scratches and bites have left seeping from her skin a black, goop-like substance. Despite its overpowering and foul smell, Hana pays it no mind.

The two of you continue to converse for some time, until you suddenly just stop hearing from Hana. You figure she must have tired of you or have otherwise been busy. You breathe a sigh of relief.

You wake up one morning some months later to a message from Hana, sent at approximately 3 am. I crave flesh, it says, or you suspect it says, given the poor spelling and missing letters. Come over. She seems shy and not to do too well around other people, and so you consider if this is her way of flirting. You figure you might as well go see her, given how long it's been, and let her down in person.

Arriving at her home, you notice that it is not in a state of disrepair, but it's not exactly the most well-maintained home on the planet. The lawn, at least, has gotten too long, and spiders have made their homes anywhere they can find. Despite it all, you approach the front door. Your knock is met with silence, so you knock again, and still - nothing. You do notice that the door is unlocked, though, and given that Hana had invited you over, you see no harm in opening the door and venturing inside. Lights are off, curtains drawn. You hear deep breathing coming from the kitchen. It is from there that the only light emanates. The smell of rotting meat is the first thing that hits your nose. Various bottled ingredients are strewn about the ground, leading your eyes to the light which beams from the open fridge. You cannot see her, save for the feet from under the door. You speak her name, concern evident. 'I've tried so, so hard,' she begins. You can hear the upset in her tone, but it's overpowered by another quality that isn't usually there. It's almost like she's harmonising with herself, a deeper voice beneath her own struggling to speak in your own language, preferring that strange one you'd heard on occasion. 'To hold it all back. The changes, the cravings. I've tried every food under the sun, but there's only one thing that'll satiate it, and I've tried holding on to my humanity, but it's like aging: you just. Can't. Stop it.' Then she laughs. 'Well, most people. I haven't aged for, like, 20 years. I guess you could consider this a growth spurt.' You take a tentative step back. 'I'm so sorry,' she mutters. 'I've really enjoyed spending time with you. You're the only person outside of my family who's ever tried to make an effort, and the only thing I can do is punish you for it. 'Since I like you, I'm gonna warn you. The moment I see you, I'm gonna be told to, like, tear your throat out and feast until I can feast no more, and at this point I can't hold back any more, so I want you to run, okay?' The fridge door closes slowly. For those few moments between the door being ajar and the door closing, the light being extinguished, you catch a glimpse of her. Your heart drops, for those claws, the skin (for want of a better word), those eyes could never possibly belong to a human being. You remember the businessman who had screamed and shouted that she was a monster, and you realise he was right. You do not dare stand about any longer out of fear of being eaten alive, along with the fact that you feel staring at her any longer is going to make you ill. You run as fast as your feet can carry you before she has the chance to catch sight of you and only look back when you know she could not possibly be following you out into the sunlit day.

You manage to make it home safely, but what you saw will stay with you forever. You open your messaging app. Hana has sent you more messages than you ever cared to receive. I'm sorry. Come back. I don't know what's happening to me. I just want a small bite. You immediately remove and block her from your contacts. That night, you have a horrid nightmare, reliving the memories of that day, and what could have happened were you not so lucky.

[llycaons]

ep38 (1/3): that which resembles a romance but is in fact a horror short film

lsz is eager to help ofc, but wwx doesn't know who he is yet

wwx asking for jl and the jiang bell matters - his connection to his old home and family. and apparently the jiang bells are powerful? they were more described in the book. I actually forgot they were even in the show since they're barely talked about

THERE SHE IS!!!!!!!! I love a-qing, such a strong personality, her own goals and motivations, curious and intelligent and out for herself and brave. it is shitty to pretend to be disabled, but I'm going to blame the author for that instead of a 16 yr old orphan girl living on the streets. it's not like it doesn't backfire on her anyway

also she's so funny. 'why do men dress nice when they're poor, this is an attack on me specifically'

FIRST MEETING!!! that blindfold is alarming but the blood looks a little pale (fake)

ohh I could swoon. saints and heroes don't really exist in this world, it's too complicated and brutal for them to survive. but xxc was as close as anyone else ever got and I think a-qing knew she'd never meet someone as special as him again

not to say he doesn't have flaws - his naivete is disastrous for all of them and he overlooks her concerns out of a patronizing dismisiveness when he should be respecting her instincts, which helped her survive all her life on the streets. also, it's admirable of him to be nonjudgemental but xy just has odious vibes and it's a tragedy he was so charmed by him that he didn't pick up on that. sort of a xxc jgy situation except xy was fully in love with him or whatever approximates love for him and I still think jgy was mostly using lxc to survive. so another dark foil to wx just as songxiao are a lighter (but still tragic) parallel

anyway he thinks a-qing is funny and is clearly endeared by her, and she clearly likes him a lot despite lying to him. their dynamic has so much chemistry and potential for being great family, it's a shame they're not more popular to write about. this is probably one of the only reasons he's had to smile since he and SL parted ways

smart girl! this guys sounds like bad news, so get outta there

ah! curse the hyperdeveloped senses of a cultivator!

unlike the tragedy of wwx, this could literally have all been avoided if not for a single person - there are many ways to rewrite this and just have them never cross paths. of course, that misses out on the richness of this story and the themes at play, not to mention their significance for the wider narrative, so I don't particularly like yi city fix-its before the fact. but they're definitely easy

christ he's bleeding like craxy. what did they do to him. and why didn't they do it better

of course as soon as he sees xxc he's like FUCK

yeah and if xy lets xxc touch his hand he'll know he's missing his pinky

...not that I like to think about them having a relationship but IF they had sex I wonder how he managed that

god this is so kind 😭 why couldn't it have been wwx that xxc found and they just had a nice little family time (they're cousins or something) for a decade or so before wwx was comfortable enough to leave. MAN

a-qing sleeping in that coffin then hopping out is so cute I love her

it's only been a day and already he looks perfectly groomed clean robes clear skin fully hydrated etc. the man knows how to look good I gotta say

and he starts right off by being a piece of shit to a-qing. I think the siblings dynamic can be really funny but lbr in canon he terrorized her and she hated him for it

I thought this was kind of dumb. like even if she was blind anyone would feel a SWORD. and if he learns she's not really blind, what, xxc is disappointed? I suppose it means he's less careful around her. bc she was able to witness a lot of his crimes bc he wasn't as watchful, assuming she couldn't see (and therefore could never understand what was happening? ableist of him)

a-qing: please don't leave me alone with this scary stranger we picked up by the side of the road, he's really aggressive and he's lying about who he is and I think he's dangerous

xxc: oh you silly girl. he'll be leaving soon *immediately starts flirting with him*

actually xy comes at this with a very specific angle. it's almost like he's emulating wwx - he presents himself as someone hardworking, uncomplaining, and good-hearted despite the hardships he's clearly gone through. of course xxc was taken in

haha no big deal! I'll just casually drop this little fact! it's definitely not something I want you to know about me so you can sympathize with me while admiring how blase I am about it! MAN

on the one hand I can see why xxc is being so open-minded and I appreciate his kindness. on the other hand he IS misled by his own feelings and she is also literally right. she gives him good reasons not to trust him and he's like *pats her on the head* we'll be fine

the head-pats are sweet when coming from adults to their kids (or jyl to wwx) but it just feels patronizing here

literally this is blatant flirting. a-qing off to the side going 😭 he has a crush what I am supposed to do now!!

and THIS??? I was so shocked the first time I saw this I was like THIS is allowed but wwx and lwj can't hug??? huh??? idk the exact specifications of the censorship but in some ways xy/xxc hits you harder with the gay subtext than any other couple including wx which is so wild to me. and also deeply tragic obviously

I think it helps that the writers have a very solid idea of what this relationship is and exactly how each character felt at every moment of it. meanwhile for wx interactions can be very inconsistent and confusing. anyway GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM YOU FREAK

so yeah overall super eerie and frightening to see xxc fall so readily in love with someone you KNOW is cruel and sadistic and lying to him and deceiving him. like this could have been a cute second-love kind of deal with a new family in a new city. fresh start. but then again, no it couldn't have

[controlledchaos1342-blog]

“Let’s have a battle!” Naive, vicious child. This is why I wear my mask these days. Before it was to hide, now it’s to make it all too clear ‘who’ I am to these people. I can see in their eyes that they don’t intend it to be a playful match like the small school-children getting a first taste of this life. They see me and my ‘disabled’ partner as easy prey.

I look to Missy and tilt my head, no need to say the question out loud. She simply nods and gives a responding “Kacha,” before jumping out to fight what ever opponent we were to face. If the brat was smart they’d send out a ground type like Sandslash or Graveler. It wouldn’t help them really, especially since this is a loose fight without stated rules so even if Missy couldn’t handle it Saoirce or Flicker could pick up the slack.

They aren’t smart, but they aren’t stupid enough to send a flying or water type in their cockyness. The opponent is a Ninetales. Arguably local to the area and no indication of its current power due to the fact it evolves with a stone rather then experience or even an attack.

“Natsume, Flamethrower!” The intention is clear, they want to surprise me with an instant death. I say nothing but instead shake my wrist. The bracelet jangles just audibly enough for Missy to know her own judgment is preferred, whatever that may be in this moment.

As the flames spew out of the large fox’s mouth straight at Missy, I still can’t tell the difference between “that’s a lot of hot air” and “Fourth degree burn incoming” so I can’t tell if having her jump out of the way will be required or a waste of energy. She, as a Pokemon from the wilds, has a better grasp on the flow of the magic needed for these attacks.

I can’t see what her choice is in the moment of truth, but when the flames go away, the stream cut off to avoid hitting me as I stood barely four feet behind her, I don’t see her. Merely a hole where she stood. The brat seems surprised but is quick to take on a prideful look. “Don’t touch the tails.” It took, quite honestly, far too long to be able to project my voice so easily across such a clearing. But such a skill is needed when you have no clue where your Pokemon is in a battle, when the fights are life or death and the attacks are roaring like storms and wildfires.

The brat is surprised once more and seems uneasy. ‘Word to the wise: Dig is a very useful TM for electric types.’ Missy finally pops out, across the field and right in place to grab the foreleg of the Ninetales. It yelps  and the brat asks what happened only for it to rear back, yanking Missy out of the ground and preventing her from dragging it into the hole to snap its leg or at least twist its ankle.

“Natsume, flamethrower now!” I’ll give the kid one thing, they have good reaction time for these developments. If they weren’t so vicious I’d want to give them some proper advice on how to survive and protect their team. As it stands I can’t bring myself to care, or rather can’t allow myself to care. Regardless, Missy’s left cheek pouch goes from an occasionally sparking live-wire effect to producing bolts arching well past the length of the fox’s tails.

‘Natsume’ doesn’t even get the barest licks of fire out past their muzzle before Missy had unleashed enough electricity to likely rival an electric chair. The fox falls, the rodent brushes herself off, the brat drops to their knees, and I approach.

For so long I had dreamed of being in this world, knowing full well that a cartoon and game series directed at children would sugar coat it. I knew there would be horrors and turmoil, especially in this particular iteration of such a world. It doesn’t stop me from hating these kinds of fights, it doesn’t stop me from looking at the Ninetales, something that was always shown to be majestic but laid before me seemed ragged and feral, and making sure to check if it was alive.

It’s been made clear to me, a Pokemon that fights for another, whether to protect the weak under its care or as a soldier under its leaders guidance, that they would rather fight to the end of that battle than be given paltry mercy. But there is a catch, when the battle doesn’t need to end in death then they can loose without dying or being disgraced. Is it disgrace even? At least, is it by the standards that most humans and even I myself understand it?

“Oi,” I speak up to grab the kid’s attention, “Natsume isn’t dead. Either continue the fight or forfeit and run to town for treatment, ya got that?” The brat of course looks up with hatred. Shaking, crying, do they even understand that they caused this themselves? That they intended to do unto me what they thought I had done unto them? “You wanted a fight. You had Natsume use as much power as she could to attack Missy. You did not, in any way, imply that it was a spar.”

Spars are odd things in this world. It’s generally agreed that when fighting with preschoolers and other such young ‘trainer’s that it is a spar. Spars aren’t allowed in official competitions unless the competition is built around them, such as contests and battle tents that let you rent a Pokemon. In true fights you’re expected to either fight to the death or be able to act fast enough to save your own Pokemon’s life. Spars you’re expected to hold back enough to not kill, though accidents can always happen, and you can ask for a break to use items or swap out a Pokemon safely.

The kid slumps, seeming to understand that they had no right to feel attacked when they had challenged, when if the roles were reversed they’d have made sure their own Pokemon knew not to show the slightest bit of mercy.

“I… How much do I owe you?” A cultural part of this whole world that I still struggle with. Typically people will just give you half of their current savings as compensation, compensation for challenging someone who was ‘better’ or compensation for not being a good enough challenge. Sometimes it’s treated more like prize money, sometimes people treat it like a bet and set the money aside ahead of time. It’s thankfully not uncommon for someone to refuse but it is sadly seen as extremely disgraceful, at least in this country, to accept the money if you had lost outside of preestablished conditions.

It’s also not unheard of, though exceedingly rare and universally considered a ‘dick move’ to instead be paid in conditions or requirements. It’s one thing to have them established before hand, it’s another to make demands when the person is arguably defenseless and heartbroken. I haven’t cared for societal rules in so long.

“Look after your Pokemon with reasonable care, as in make sure they can live a content life,” already the kid is flinching at my demands, likely less what I’m asking of them and more that it’s not going to be a simple matter of maybe not eating for a week, “never demand a battle, but instead request and back off if someone is opposed to the idea,” the second command is arguably good practice for if the kid manages to stay at this well into adulthood, as once you reach a certain proficiency and or age you’re expected to ease off a bit, to not just slaughter the next generation, “and spar with me next week. We can hash out the exacts and it doesn’t have to be exactly seven days from now.”

The kid nods, recalls Natsume, and runs back to the nearest town. Or maybe they’re running to the next town on their travels? I honestly didn’t notice where they came from before they challenged me. Regardless, Missy climbs up to my shoulder, damaged cheek facing out to the world so it can spark out safely. The sparks don’t stop me from gently rubbing her cheek, by this point in our travels the tingles of electricity running down my arm feels comforting.

“So, do you think you’d rather deal with it or do ya want to shunt it off to Saoirce? Yes-you, No-Saoirce,” I mumble as I start heading off to our current ‘campsite’, a small nook where I dropped my stuff while we scavenged for food in hopes of avoiding a store-run.

“Chu.” A no, fair enough. I can’t tell if Missy just doesn’t want to deal with being burned, which fair enough, if she simply thinks Saoirce would find the spar fun, which also is fair, or if Missy is hoping the brat will realize who they challenged. If she’s hoping to see the dawning horror the kid will feel when, if they realize they challenged ‘Z-Sama’ and attempted to kill my starter.

There’s always a chance the kid would never realize. After all Pikachu do naturally occur in some areas in this country, it’s not impossible to get an Eevee to evolve into any of its variants, especially if your foolish enough to lie and order a pet-grade Eevee rather then a combat-grade one. Even if the kid sees Flicker, Charmander are one of the Pokemon in the Starter’s Initiative Breeding Program so it just means having connections or filling out a bunch of paper work.

Even my mask, one modeled after the Hisuian Zoroark and my ‘namesake’, paired with the exact injuries on my team wouldn’t be concrete proof. The masks have gotten more popular when people saw me challenge and hold my own in the league so quickly. The injuries are fairly common either as accidents in combat or shameful intentions so it’s not impossible for someone to either randomly end up with team members that match mine or, in the cases of people I’d want to personally gut and skin alive, purposefully injure, arguably cripple multiple Pokemon just to copy.

The idea of purposeful copycats is even more infuriating when one remembers that there’s a random chance that damaging a Pikachu’s cheek-pouch will leave it incapable of using electrical attacks of any kind ever again. That there is never a way to know how such an injury will play out, that there is no way to guarantee the true problem will be fixed with a transplant, that the sparks and static is less important for combat and more an integral part of their culture and communication.

[grandomen]

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE + 🎶 MUSICAL NOTES + 🤍 WHITE HEART

various oc related asks!

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

by the modern standard, yes. olthedir's mental health is an entire shitstorm- mostly because he's been alive 20,000 years and the mental strain is ... literally unimaginable. there is a reason the man likes to be a cryptid- he lives in the ancient forest where he was raised by the gods for a reason, and that reason is "olthedir's behavior makes him rather unsuited to coexist with modern society for long periods of time."

beyond this, as the world has forgotten about the depths of magic, olthedir's behavior would likely be categorized as "psychosis"- his claims of being able to talk to the gods? delusions of grandeur, auditory hallucinations! the omens he notices? visual hallucinations! he doesn't want to deal with the judgement of people who have forgotten the old magics.

but in the same breath, it means he assumes the worst of people. that also stems from his mental health deteriorating over time (and also from his trauma in his youth- while the gods raised him well, the fact his human parents decided to leave him in the old forest because he was deemed lacking a proper soul is something he's well aware of, and that's horrible!!!). his horrible mental health is the root of a lot of his struggles.

physically, olthedir is quite healthy aside from various scars. he has no concerns about his physical health. his mental state might be awful, but he does take care for his physical body. magic can only do so much, the rest is his human effort! as in, magic halted his aging, but he sustains things like muscle mass and physical stamina and strength by means that are very, very human! a healthy diet, stable sleep pattern, balanced exercise routines etc.

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

through the ages, olthedir was exposed to the changes in musical style- when i say the man lives in an ancient forest, i mean he just doesn't stick around long in other areas- the man loves learning, he wouldn't shut himself away entirely- but i digress.

olthedir was raised on the hymns of the divine, which he continues to find comfort in- but if he had to pick something to listen to, he'd pick jazz. there's something about the energy that is just ... very nice. he likes the fact that it doesn't have to be perfect; not every note needs to be crystal clear- there's something very free about it.

he listens to music here and there, not 24/7, but if he's feeling too restless in silence, music is a nice thing to have. sometimes, it's just birdsong, but whatever breaks the silences...

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

mmm- i could say everything about olthedir is questionable due to how warped all of his views have become, but okay ... neutral or questionable ...

his sense of justice- while arguably it could be a noble trait, it could also be a disastrous one. olthedir sees "proper justice" alongside "divine JUDGEMENT" and actually hey man those things are completely different. he believes that a good person shouldn't have to face unnecessary sufferings, but to the wicked, he would see them face The Horrors.

his method of observing the world- i mentioned before that olthedir's two closest friends are eoldraed the great drake of the northern mountains and fealnos the phoenix of a thousand lifetimes, and in a way they are familiars (if a familiar is a being that has such a strong bond with a mage) except they aren't (if you define familiar as a being that has a bond to the SOUL of a mage, as olthedir has no "proper soul"). he DOES have other beings that he can see through the eyes of- olthedir is fond of seeing through the eyes of cats. his cats will sometimes follow people he's taken interest in, or they will be seen in places that he's taken a liking to. it would be less ... uncomfortable ... if he just stayed out in society a little more, but uhhh.

on a more neutral note and a less "this is so uncomfortable but not necessarily harmful" vibe, olthedir is a big fan of studying flora and fauna. like, not in a wizard way, but in a way that he just likes going around and sketching various plants and animals, which is a rather neutral hobby and doesn't really impact much, other than the fact he has plenty of journals filled with charcoal sketches. so, his tendency to just wander in forests (not even the ancient forest of the gods where he lives, just pick a random forest) and sit down and sketch that's rather neutral...

[astralbooks]

Girls of Ash and After by Alex Nonymous

Read: 10th February 2023

Rating: 5/5

Rep: sapphic main characters, f/f relationship, brown disabled main character who walks with a cane, sapphic side character

CW: ableism, blood & gore, body horror, injury detail including injuries to fingers and eyes, death, on-page child death, death of a parent, kidnapping & confinement, murder, nightmares, physical abuse & torture, religion-based homophobia, internalised homophobia, possession, physically & emotionally abusive parental figure, witchcraft & monsters

Review:

Ever is the first child born in the town of After, so named because it positions itself as a haven for those who’d rather live in a world without, or after, magic and witchcraft. As the daughter of the founder she’s seen as something of a figurehead herself with much of the town looking to her to be a role model. However, when Ever starts having nightmares about the other children of the town being brutally killed, and then those same children start winding up dead, she’s faced with the inescapable fact that there is something magical about her, and if she doesn’t get to the bottom of it soon then it won’t be long until every child in After is dead. To get to the bottom of this she forms a shaky alliance with Alisa, the leader of the town’s secret coven of witches and also the girl who was Ever’s childhood friend until Ever accused Alisa’s mother of witchcraft, leading to Alisa’s mother being banished from the town.

This book had the feeling of a fairytale gone very, very wrong, and I vibed so hard with that! This is Alex’s first time writing body horror and they didn’t hold back in the slightest. The content warnings are very serious. I think she did an excellent job with the descriptions of what was happening, and some of them even made me flinch as I was reading. He also did a good job at writing the forest surrounding After, with it feeling almost like a character in its own right throughout. Very creepy, and very well done.

A main running theme of this book is religion-based trauma and abuse. Ever’s father, the founder and mayor of After, has complete control over the town and his daughter and cites religion as the basis behind nearly all of his decisions. The society he’s built is homophobic, has outlawed magic entirely, and anyone who expresses any sort of dissent is soon ‘banished’ and never seen again. Ever in particular growing up in that household bears the brunt of her father’s expectations, and she’s terrified of what he’ll do to her if he discovers the ways in which she falls short. Sadly, she’s proven to be very correct, and not even being his daughter protects her from physical harm if she tries to challenge him on something.

Growing up in an environment that is explicitly homophobic means that at the start of the story Ever genuinely believes that being queer is bad and wrong. However, this is absolutely not the depressingly prevalent and harmful stereotype of homophobes being secretly gay. When Ever says that queerness is wrong, it’s very clear that she’s just repeating something she’s been told is true her whole life, and that she doesn’t fully believe it herself but hasn’t ever known anything else. She’s not being cruel, and her internalised homophobia comes off as tragic rather than anything else. Her emotional journey through this book was one that I’m sure will resonate with many queer people who’ve been raised in queerphobic households, and her growth and growing acceptance of herself were great to read.

I liked how the relationship between the two girls developed! At the start of the book Alisa hates Ever, and understandably so given what Ever did when they were children. On the other hand, Ever doesn’t dislike Alisa pretty much at all, and while she’d prefer to be reconnecting with her under better circumstances she can’t help but be happy that they’re reconnecting at all. Alisa gradually comes to understand why Ever did what she did, that it wasn’t out of malice but out of fear, and I found the growth of romantic feelings between them to be handled believably. This isn’t Alex’s first book featuring childhood friends to enemies to lovers and it’s something they’re very good at.

Something I thought was really cool was the way the girls referred to each other out loud and in narration, how this differed, and what this tells the reader about their opinions of each other. Ever almost exclusively calls Alisa ‘Isa’ in narration, whereas while Alisa sometimes calls Ever ‘Ev’ out loud she always calls her ‘Ever’ in narration. From this alone the reader knows that Ever never stopped caring about Alisa, and that the same cannot be said for Alisa about Ever. Character names in narration as an indicator of how the narrating character feels about others and about themselves is a narrative device that I adore when skillfully deployed, and this was definitely a case of it being skillfully deployed! I got so excited when I noticed it!

Alex has spoken openly about how Alisa’s disability, while unnamed in the novel, is modeled on her own osteonecrosis, and it was clear throughout that the descriptions of what Alisa was going through and how this affects her came from personal experience. Her disability is taken seriously by both the narrative and by non-villainous characters, it isn’t an afterthought with no impact on the story, but there’s so much more to her character than her disability as well. I’m aware that this should be the baseline expectation for representation, but disability rep is still at a point where good rep needs to be highlighted, and I thought this was good rep. Alisa’s cane being visible on the cover is super exciting! Mobility aids aren’t something that should be hidden away or that people should be ashamed of needing, and so seeing it on the cover in silhouette like it’s just as much a part of Alisa as the rest of her body is really cool!

If you like dark fairytales or books about religious trauma and abuse then I highly encourage giving this one a try!

Thank you to Alex for providing me with an early copy in return for some feedback. Details may differ in the published version.  

[anti-plexus]

Jeff The Killer x Reader

Title: Cracked Humanities

Pronouns: They/Them, but has female reproductive parts.

Warnings: Smut. Contains swearing, knife play, blood play, etc... Don't read if you don't feel comfortable.

———

Note: I don't own this artwork!

———

The house was silent as you slipped inside, shutting the window behind you with a soft click. Your fingers clenched around the gun attached to your hip as you padded down the hallway.

It’s alright, you took a deep breath, just a mission.

Until it wasn’t, because these kinds of missions always became personal. Sooner or later. And you hated it. Being forced to kill innocent people to satisfy the murderous intentions of the faceless man - Slenderman, as he was called - made your insides curl with hatred.

He was the real monster of the story, not you or any of your housemates.

But who could defy him, a seemingly-invincible being conceived of chaos? Definitely not you.

You finished your mission, killing an elderly woman and her disabled son, quickly, using your gun to shoot them point-blank. A small mercy, but it’s better than nothing.

Not even bothering to bury the corpses, you used a single match to ignite the house, watching as it shriveled and charred beneath the roaring flames. A sight that would have been pretty if not for what had just occurred beneath the blackened walls.

It made you sick, but what could you do?

With a heavy heart, you returned to the mansion, skirting up the grand staircase to your room. As usual, the mansion was quiet - even more so than the house you’d just burned - because the inhabitants knew to stay quiet, lest a terrible fate befall them.

As no one was occupying the bathroom, you dashed in and took a short shower. Your skin become red and raw from the constant scrubbing, brought on by bloodstains only you could see.

Just a little more, you squirted some more soap on the loofa and rubbed the cloth over your pruning hands, only stopping when the ache became unbearable.

It was clear you would never be clean again - mentally or otherwise.

———

In all his years, Jeff still couldn’t comprehend what had become of him. It should have been easy; he was a killer, plain and simple. Except it wasn’t that simple.

He was a puppet - a thinking, feeling puppet - to an inhuman master. Just like that creep Jonathan.

In his free time, he often wondered what life would have been like if not for the ‘incident’. Simple, most likely; he would have finished high school, college, and tackled life with the same tenacity he once possessed.

Even still, this was his life now and he couldn’t go back, even if he wanted to.

And then, his mind wandered to you; a young, impressionable person, newly kidnapped for Slenderman’s sinister agenda.

I almost feel bad for them. He remembered the first night you’d arrived, kicking and screaming - a frightened little thing.

“Please! Let me go!”

Over time, your annoyingly-good attitude faded. You became just like them; a puppet. Another lost soul in a mansion of horrors, lifelessly-living.

Speaking of which, he hadn’t seen you in a few days. Didn’t they go on a mission today? Some stupid part of him wanted to check on you - make sure you were still alive. Was it that he pitied you, the fact that you were stuck in this life with no choice? Nah, it was more than that.

Something was… calling him to you.

With a huff of distain, he did just that.

———

You stayed in your room for the rest of the day, hidden under the thick blankets covering your bed. It didn’t even occur to you that you’d skipped both lunch and dinner in your haste to escape reality.

Knock. Knock.

Someone knocked on your door. You flinch beneath the blankets, grasping at the sheets in frustration. “Go away!”

The knocker, however, didn’t seem to care what you thought, because the door clicked open no less than a second later. A feeling of trepidation rose in your gut, like a patient awaiting an operation.

“I said go away!” Your voice came out muffled, all sound you made drowned under layers of thick fabric.

Silence. You were about to yell again when the intruder grasped the blankets covering you and tore them off the bed.

“Fucking god!” You swore venomously, glaring up at the culprit; Jeff The (fucking) Killer himself. “Go away, you fucking cunt!”

“Woah, jeez,” he grins down at you, feigning innocence. The blankets pooled at the foot of the bed and you made a half-hearted grab for them, but Jeff stops you, nearly crushing your wrist between his bony fingers. “You’re a fucking hermit, aint’cha?”

“Fuck off, dipshit,” you wrench your wrist from his grasp, rubbing at the already-forming bruise.

“No can do,” he smirks. “I’m bored.”

“Then go bother someone else!”

“Nah,” the grin he flashed you was downright maddening. “Need to annoy someone here or I’ll go stir crazy… not that I’m not already!”

You frown as he laughs at his own joke. “That’s a mood if I’ve ever seen one.”

Jeff’s creepy grin widens, scars bulging from exertion. You wonder where he got them.

“Oh these? Did them myself,” you stiffened and he chuckles pridefully. “Talking to yourself, huh? Looks like I’m not the only crazy one here.”

God, you’re such an asshole.

“Oh, ouch. You’ve pierced my nonexistent heart.”

…I said that out loud, didn’t I?

“Sure did, princess.”

“Princess?” You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest. “How original, jerk.”

He had the gall to look offended, giving you a hurt look that you both knew was fake. “Damn, and to think I had you pegged as a newbie wimp.”

At that, you crack a small smile. Despite the odds, Jeff had actually managed to raise your spirits with his shit-personality and (maybe) flirting attempts - or, at least you thought he was flirting with you. It kinda seemed like it, at this point. “Now you know.”

A pause. “What did Slenderbitch make you do?”

You avert your eyes, face hardening. “A grandma and her son; that’s fucking what.”

“Fuck,” Jeff nods, a grimace forming on his face. “Now I see why you’re holed up in here, ya fucking pussy.”

“Excuse you!” You smack his chest. “If you’re just going to be mean, get out. I don’t have any fucking patience for that shit.”

Jeff raises his hands in mock surrender, a challenge in his black-ringed eyes. “Oh, I’m so scared. Are you going to strangle me with those tiny baby hands of yours~?”

I will if you keep talking like that. Your hands ball into fists as you glare up at him. Even so, he wasn’t scared. He never is.

“But,” you stop, utterly flabbergasted by what he says next. “I’m not looking for a fight, so can sit that pretty little ass back down.”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that you’d stood up, but you stayed standing regardless. “Oh? And here I was thinking you wanted that.”

The fear from earlier had left your system, leaving a vicious thirst for conflict - anything to forget the wrongs you’d committed no less than a day ago.

Jeff seemed to size you up and you sank into a fighting stance, all reason leaving your mind. You wanted a fight and you wanted it now.

“Well,” a malicious smirk replaces his previously-neutral expression. “If you’re asking for it, then I guess I’ll have to oblige.”

Then he jumps at you with the skill of a trained killer, producing his trusty knife from seemingly-thin air. You dodge and punch his arm, aiming for where his scapula met his humerus.

“Bitch!”

Your plan worked. Jeff swore loudly, nearly dropping his knife, whirling around to swing the weapon at your abdomen. Again, you dodge, shooting him a cocky grin.

“Aw, poor Jeff. Does that hurt? Want me to kiss it better?”

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have provoked him, but the delicious growl that reverberated from his chest solidified your plans. This wasn’t a fight for life, but for dominance.

And you were determined to win.

His body slams into yours, sending you colliding against the wall. The sweet taste of blood fills your mouth, making you realize that you’d bitten your tongue.

“Oh, what’s this?” He presses into you harder, skirting the knife across your throat. A thin drop of blood streaks down your chin. He uses his tongue to lick it up. “I’ve always wondered what your blood tasted like.”

Damn, boy. You laugh, eyes alight with challenge. “You’re gonna have to work for it if you want more, asshole.”

Your knee comes up, smashing into his stomach. Jeff’s grip on you weakens as he let a pained grunt loose. “Fucking god!”

“Let’s not bring God into this, hmm?” You brought the back of your elbow down on the ruction between his neck and shoulder, pushing him back down onto the floor. He glares up at you and spits a blob of bloody-spit your way. In response, you grab a tuft of his hair and slam the back of his skull onto the ground with a slick crunch. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh?”

The rush is exhilarating - you, a scrawny newbie, pinning one of the most experienced killers to the floor of your bedroom. You shift your hips down, unintentionally grinding your ass against the growing bulge in his pants. The knife drops from his grasp, forgotten.

“Fuck,” he smirks. “Naughty bitch.”

“Says the fucker getting off from fighting a newbie,” you sneer, grinding your ass down on him again. A growl emanates from his throat as his hands shoot up to grab your hips, grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise. “Fucking freak.”

“I’m not the only one,” his torso surges up, flipping you under his body. You stare up at him, caught-off guard. A few droplets of blood from his leaking cuts splatter on your cheek and he leans down to lick them away. A soft whine leaves your throat. “You’re the fucking freak here, bitch.”

Surprisingly enough, you don’t mind; as long as you get him by the end of the night. You don’t love Jeff - far from it, actually - but the lust you feel for him is nearly unbearable.

This isn’t love, just a one-night stand, which is probably what you need after all the shit you’ve endured. Your thighs squeeze together as you lick your suddenly-dry lips.

Jeff notices and his knee shoots between yours, spreading your legs. Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his (surprisingly) soft black hair. And then you yank him down, firmly connecting your lips.

Fuuuuuck. He kisses back, taking your bottom lip in his teeth and biting down. You moan into his mouth, body twitching at the sudden pain. He bites down harder and you shudder in pleasure, goosebumps forming all over your body.

After a minute, you break the kiss, gasping for breath. “Fuck.”

He smirks wolfishly, leaning down to bite your earlobe, whispering the words: “Oh, I intend to.”

You nearly moan again at the the sound of his deep, husky voice, squeezing your thighs around his knee, which has migrated to grinding against your clothed cunt. The thin sleep-shorts you decided to wear for bed do nothing to hide the wetness seeping through them.

His lips are on yours again, tongue shoved down nearly the entirety of your throat. You bite the wriggling appendage and his hips buck against your thigh.

Gotcha, you thought triumphantly, repeating the action with fervor. His hips buck again, more forcefully than before, and his hands dig into your sides, bruising soft, malleable skin.

It’s Jeff who breaks the kiss this time, a string of saliva connecting your lips - only when he dives down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin there. Your moans are loud, not caring whether you’re heard or not. The though of someone walking in to you and Jeff fucking on the floor (like animals, no less) only saves to excite you further.

“Jeff!” Your hips lift as your back arches, pushing your core directly onto his bulge. He growls and bites down harder, drawing another strangled sound from between your swollen lips.

“That’s it - moan for me, princess,” he encourages lewdly “Let all those f-fuckers know who ya belong to.”

That only eggs you on further. Your moans increase in frequency and volume, loud enough that the whole mansion can probably hear you. You couldn’t care less. Let those fuckers hear.

Suddenly, his hands are on your chest, squeezing and kneading the flesh there. His mouth detaches from your bruised neck and you use the distraction to take advantage. With a streak of raw strength, you wrap your legs around his hips and twist, sending him tumbling on his back. Your other hand grabs his discarded knife and hold it just over his carotid artery.

Jeff doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. In fact, the lustful film over his sky-blue eyes seems to darken as he chuckles. “Taking control, are we?”

“Damn right,” you smirk and shift your hips down, sitting directly on the tops of his thighs. One of your hands unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down his hips. There’s a big wet spot on his tented boxers and you lick your lips, glancing at his face through lidded eyes. “Fuck. I didn’t know I was this good.”

“You’d be surprised,” his head lifts, pressing the blade against bleached-white flesh. A tiny drop of red dribbles from the wound. “So, what now, princess?”

You respond by reaching into his boxers and taking his cock out. It’s a good length and white as his skin. You resist the urge to start drooling.

“Like what you see- Ah!” He interrupts himself with a rather loud groan when you pump the appendage once, twice, thumbing over the swollen head. You press the knife harder against his neck and his cock twitches violently.

Fucking masochist.

Blood drips down his neck, staining his off-white shirt a beautiful scarlet color. You chuckle and remove the knife, trailing the blade down his chest teasingly, still pumping his cock.

“Ah, fuck!” He groans. You feel his cock tighten and release it from your grasp, preventing him from cumming. The look he gives you is practically on fire.

In one swift movement, Jeff knocks the knife from your grasp and sits up fully, pulling you into his lap. Your hands rest on his strong chest, gripping his blood-stained shirt, which he removes after a moment, followed by his pants.

Your fingers reach for the hem of your shirt, but he stops you, skillfully spinning the stolen knife between his fingers. “Stay still, princess. Wouldn’t want to hurt you too badly, now would we?”

Then, he uses the knife to slice your shirt off you, letting you slip out of your shorts and underwear.

“Damn…” his black-ringed eyes are glued on your dripping cunt and you’re half sure his cock twitches again in carnal anticipation. “Get on. Now.”

You lift your hips, positioning the head of his dick at your swollen lips. He wastes no time gripping your hips and slamming you down till your ass hits his upper thighs. “So fucking tight.”

You can only moan in response, completely intoxicated with the mix of pain and pleasure he’s giving you. You’re by no means inexperienced, but this is almost too much to handle, especially when he doesn’t give you any time to adjust before bucking up into your cunt again and again.

You cling to his bare shoulders for dear life, raking stubby nails over scarred skin. He grunts approvingly and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. The coil in your stomach tightens, orgasm fast approaching.

“Jeff! Ah!”

He growls in reply, hand snaking down to roughly pinch your swollen, pulsing clit. The coil snaps and you cum. Hard. It’s a loud, raw, star-seeing explosion of pleasure that overrides all other thoughts. All you can feel is him. All you can think is him.

In that once collection of blinding moments, it’s only you and Jeff - Slenderman doesn’t exist, neither does the mansion or other creepypastas. It’s just you and him, trapped in an eternal moment of pure connection.

Panting, you collapse into him. Warmth fills you and you realize he’s just come, too.

“Wow.” You chuckle sleepily, every muscle in your body heavy as lead. “That was…”

“Amazing? Best-Fucking-Fuck-Of-Your-Life?” He offers, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop.

“Something like that,” you answer, rolling your eyes. “Arrogant asshole.”

He merely chuckles and lifts you up bridal-style, setting you on the bed. A sigh escapes your lips and you settle into the comfortable sheets, not caring that the cum spilling out of you is staining the sheets.

“Jeez, we really went hardcore,” you hear him mutter, accompanied by a soft rustling noise. A pair of hands roll you onto your back, while something prods at the lips of your sex. You crane your head to look. Surprisingly, it’s Jeff, cleaning you off with a tissue.

He looks up, meeting your confused gaze. “What? Did ya really expect me to just up and leave?”

You nod sheepishly. “Well, you don’t really seem like the type to… stick around, y’know?”

“You thought wrong,” he huffs, throwing the used tissue into your wastebasket. “I’m not that bad.”

“I didn’t say you were bad,” You sit up a bit, offering him a cheeky wink. “Quite the opposite actually. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for the next day or so.”

“Then I did my job,” he says cockily, striding over to your closet after putting his boxers and jeans back on. He gestured to your soaked clothes on the floor. “Ya got anything else to wear? That stuff’s ruined.”

Huh. That’s surprisingly considerate.

“Shirts and underwear are in the middle drawer,” you say. He opens said drawer and produces a long grey shirt and red underwear. You snicker softly when he hands you the clothes, slipping them on with some assistance.

And then, the big question. You kinda wish he would stay, but he’s probably going to go to his room and pretend nothing ever happened. This was a one-night stand, after all. Nothing more, nothing less.

“See you tomorrow?”

He gives you the look. You blink.

Without warning, he crawls onto the bed with you. “I ain’t going anywhere. This ain’t some kind of shitty one-night stand, y’hear?”

I’m starting to want more than that, too.

Surprised, you smile. His arms encircle your body, hugging you against his chest in an almost… gentle manner. Your eyelids feel heavy and you nestle deeper onto his warm flesh.

Just before sleep takes you, you realize that this isn’t just a one-night stand - it’s become so much more than that.

I… I think I love him-

“You know, you’re pretty bad at not talking to yourself,” Jeff’s voice rips you from your thoughts. Your face turns bright red at his statement,

“W-“

“Shh,” he interrupts, hugging you tighter. “I… I feel the same, alright? Go to sleep, goddamnnit. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And so, you do, curled up in a (loving) embrace with a man you’d never imagined loving. And now, you do.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow, now isn’t it?

------

Oh, spicy! I enjoyed writing this! 😁

[depressed-werewolf]

Hero x Vigilante Snippet

Hero was no where to be found.

They’d had a date that night. At first Vigilante had chalked it up to them being late, but after some time it was clear that wasn’t the case.

None of their friends knew where they were and they wouldn’t pick up the phone. That usually meant Villain was involved.

It wasn’t too difficult for Vigilante to locate them. Villain hadn’t put in much work to cover his tracks, likely because he expected one of Hero’s teammates to come after them and walk into a trap.

She’d been able to track him back to Supervillain’s base. Vigilante had had done her best to avoid Supervillain until now. The two had a messy past which culminated in him attempting to kill her, and he nearly succeeded. In fact, he likely had no idea she was still alive. That was about to change.

She didn’t have too much trouble getting into the building, flight was pretty useful in that regard, though she need the help of one of Hero’s teammates to disable the cameras and locate Hero’s cell.

She could begin to hear voices as she got closer to their cell. It made her grimace. Vigilante knew firsthand Supervillain’s henchman could be brutal when it came to torture but it was so much different when it was Hero rather than her. She’d be willing to do anything to make sure what happened to her would never happen to Hero.

Now she was close enough to their cell door to make out words. “This would be so much easier if you’d just cooperate.”

“In your dreams.”

She winced when she heard Villain slap them across the face. Now she was right in front of the door.

Vigilante whispered into her phone to Hero’s teammate. She pulled her gun from her holster and gripped it tightly in her hand. “Do you think you’ll be able to unlock their cell from here?”

“Yeah, yeah, I need a second,” Teammate said.

Typing could be heard on the other the other side of the phone and the cell door unlocked after a few seconds. She took a deep breath and opened the cell door.

Vigilante’s large gray wings took up most of the doorway. The cell was small and sparsely furnished. Hero sat in a metal chair in the center of the room with their hands cuffed behind their back. Villain wore metal gauntlets with sharp claws stained with dry blood. It made her sick. She could already see the bruises and cuts all over their body. Villain looked up as Vigilante stepped into the dimly lit cell.

“Who’s there?”

She took a step toward him. Her yellow eyes glowed dangerously. “You’ve made a very big mistake.”

He squinted, struggling to make out her face in the dark. He didn’t recognize the woman’s voice. “Must think you’re a badass, huh?”

“Common curtesy really,” Vigilante smiled sweetly but there was an unmistakable venom in her voice. “I stayed out if Supervillain’s business for years, it’s only fair they keep their fucking hands off what’s mine.”

“Come and take them, then—”

She shot him before he even had a chance to attack. He simply stared in horror briefly and then crumpled to the ground.

The bullet wound was in his leg, Villain would live if he got medical treatment soon. Hero always insisted that she kept killing to a minimum.

She walked over to Hero and undid the handcuffs and helped them up. Hero leaned against her as they stood up, long black hair falling into their eyes. They were normally a few inches taller than Vigilante but her boots evened out the height between the two.

They shot a wary look towards Villain, who’s blood was currently dripping onto the floor and staining his clothes. They raised an eyebrow. “A bit much, don’t you think?”

Vigilante smiled. “You told me not to kill him, he’s still very much alive.” The woman chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around Hero’s shoulder and kissed their cheek. “Let’s go out of here before he’s cause security, shall we?”

[haitanirindo]

zukka fics that live in my head rent free! 

1. what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth (what were you digging) by draco_sollicitus status: complete (18k words) rating: mature pairing(s): sokka/zuko  summary: Sokka is immortal; it's been tested, he knows that he can't die. He's immortal, but he's not quite a god like his sister, Katara. He's immortal, but he's not quite powerful like his friends Aang and Toph. He's just sort of Sokka: good at fixing things, good at playing pranks, good at helping people. When a bet against Toph goes horribly wrong, and an attempt to save him goes even worse, Sokka finds himself the unwilling guest of the Lord of the Underworld. And, strangely enough, every story Sokka's heard about Lord Zuko seems to be ... completely wrong. (Also, he's really handsome. Why does he have to be handsome?)

mythology nerds come get y’all juice. a very good fic. 10/10

2. Where I Want to Be by through-the-stars-to-the-pavement status: WIP (83k words) rating: explicit pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: "'The fog was where I wanted to be.'" Everything is different. The pitch of his voice, his posture. The auditorium goes silent. No one can take their eyes off of him.… He's amazing.  Zuko had to perfect the art of acting as a child to survive the horrors of his homelife. When he got older, it was only natural to take his talent to the stage for entertainment and escape. Enter Sokka, a craftsman and set designer with a giant heart who is haunted by plenty of ghosts of his own. A tale of trauma, disability, family, creativity, and love. 

this is one of my all time favorite fics. it’s seriously so good and i think about it often

3. Teaching a Heart by @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney status: WIP (114k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Sokka is asked to go to the Fire Nation to teach the crown prince how to sword fight. When he arrives, he's surprised to learn he has to pose as a companion before he can teach the stubborn prince because he rejects every teacher. Far from home and among new customs, Sokka struggles to gain the prince's trust and friendship despite the uncertainties of the customs and dynamics he sees. As he slowly finds answers to his questions, his bond with the prince grows until it becomes something far more ardent than friendship. Doomed as it may be with the prince's approaching wedding ceremony and coronation, Sokka and Zuko find themselves consumed by what they find in each other.

i have no words, i just love this fic and it makes me weep.

4. The Road Between Action and Inaction by @donvex status: complete (17k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Sokka does a shitty k turn in the parking lot across from the bus station, pulls up to the curb where the boy is looking determinedly at his phone, and rolls down the passenger window. “Hey! Which way were you going?” He may die, but at least his conscience will be clear. The guy blinks at him. “Don’t.” Oh, he’s prickly. Or: the hitchhiker au, featuring Sokka and Zuko falling in love without even realizing it.

a classic. roadtrip fics own my ass. 

5. purrfect for eachother by lesmiserablol status: complete (3k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: “Let me teach you how to be a cat person,” Zuko says. “Learning from the master himself,” Sokka grins. “Alright, this can’t be too hard. Show me what you got.” (because sometimes, it takes going to a cat café four times to realize you're in love with your best friend)

this whole series is adorable, reading it is self care

6. Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by @muncaster status: complete (47k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko, aang/katara, mai/ty lee summary: Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes? (AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

i think this is the longest one-shot i’ve ever read and it’s so worth it

7. a study in matchmaking by @verdanthoney status: complete (12k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko, aang/katara, bato/hakoda summary: Zuko and Sokka try to play matchmaker, but things don't go exactly as planned.

this fic makes me want to scream, in the best way. it’s so cute

8. A Predictable Story by mindbending status: complete (7k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: "On this night, you shall share a kiss with a great love of your life!” That lying, scummy Aunt Wu predicts a grand romance for Sokka. To disprove her "fortunetelling" once and for all, Sokka decides to spend the night with least romantic person he knows. Zuko.

again, i have no words. this fic is cute as hell

9. that’s murder, buddy by @bisexual-atla status: WIP (14k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: Throughout the streets, on quiet nights, it was rumored the screams of those missing could be heard. Some say the sounds were coming from underground. Where were the young girls? And what was happening to them? Was an evil spirit haunting Gaoling, or something more human? More sinister? My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. Or: Sokka has no idea that his crush is the host of his favorite podcast. (But everyone else knows.)

i love the entire concept of this one, we love oblivious sokka

10. We’ll play hide and seek (to turn this around) by @crosspin status: complete (5k words) rating: general audiences pairing(s): sokka/zuko, bato/hakoda summary: Sokka gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s…well, you see, there’s this boy…” Hakoda sighed and set down the sports section. This was going to take a while. “He works at Barnes & Noble. At the big information desk in the middle. Every Saturday. And I really want to ask him for his number, but it’s super awkward because there’s always this other guy working the information desk at the same time. He’s old, like you. But I have a plan." Sokka’s eyes lit up deviously. “You come with me to Barnes & Noble today when they’re working and distract the old man. And while you have him distracted, I’ll swoop in and get the goods!” Sokka has a plan to ask out the cute boy at the bookstore. Hakoda is a begrudging participant until he meets the boy's beautiful older coworker.

this fic!! this fic! adorable, incredible, magnificent

11. feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe status: WIP (88k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: [Time passes oddly. Between one second and the next, Sokka has the Fire Lord pinned to the wall with his hands around the bastard’s throat. Golden eyes (one gold eye, his mind whispers) widen in shock. “Sokka?” he chokes out. And then he smiles. What the fuck? “Sokka, I—” Sokka slams his head against the wall, once, twice, and the smile wipes off his face. Good. “What,” Sokka bites out, “have you done to my sister?”] Or: An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends. Yeah, nah.

if you’ve been following me for a while you know this fic fucks me up beyond belief

12. breakable heaven by @fruitysokka status: WIP (43k words) rating: teen and up pairing(s): sokka/zuko summary: With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

this just in: sokka and zuko being oblivious makes me want to yell

this turned out a bit longer than i expected but it also doesn’t even cover all my favorites. i had to stop somewhere, or i’d be here forever. maybe i’ll make a part two someday.

anyway, enjoy!