#and then for whatever fucked up family dynamic my mother wants

[botseeksbot]

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father

Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.

Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):

(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)

Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics

Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:

Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):

We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).

We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.

Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm

Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate

During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...

Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.

This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.

Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.

And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...

Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)

We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.

My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.

We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:

Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-

And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:

Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-

Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.

If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.

Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)

Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3

During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:

One, as a child, when his home is bombed:

And two, as an adult, in the army:

and these injuries are both to his left eye.

Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨

Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...

which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).

Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.

---

Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF

If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.

So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?

(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)

[dollyluvss]

[[ “ where are you..? “ ]]

♱ a lovely friendship. started out playing at the park as children, your best friend leaves you while he pursues his soccer career. but when he returns..? { mean!kunigami rensuke x afab!reader! }

warnings. . .

angst angst and more angst, hate fucking, mouthy/bratty reader (sorta self indulgent-) choking, mentions of self harm - substance abuse/pure pressure - and bullying - reader over thinks.

biting, pussy slapping, just filth.. throat fucking, dom/sub dynamics, slut shaming, LOADSSSS OF DIRTY TALK, creampie(s), throat fingering(? idk why to call it..), hair pulling, headlocks,impact play/spanking/slapping, kunigami and reader have potty mouths :p, superrrrr mean!kunigami :<, slight dub-con at the begining of the smut scene, size kink if you can see, arguing, manhandling..brr.. you have been warned!

—————————————————————————————————————

it had been almost a year since you last saw your best friend. he was always with you before he left, you, his family, and soccer is all he cares about really. you two were close, very close. always joking around, teasing each other and backing each other up when it comes to anyone who disagrees. you always were sassy as a kid, that sass turned into a full blown attitude as you reached your teen years, cussing out anyone who pissed you off or even looked at you sideways. kunigami, being fairly level headed, was always there to, quite literally, hold you back from pouncing on the next sorry person to face your anger.

you and kunigami bickered from time to time, becoming full on arguments as you grew older. they never lasted long really, you barking at him into backing down. he never liked to argue with you, neither did you, but sometimes you two pushed one another’s buttons a bit to much.

————————————————————————

“oh shut up, ren!” i groan, growing more irritated as seconds passed. a stupid, very petty, argument over how loud his music was, it woke you up. and not in a good mood at that.

“im allowed to play music, ___.its my house, i can do what i like!” he argued back, voice raised but not as much as yours.

“shut it the fuck off! use headphones you dickhead!” i growled, lip turned up in a nasty scowl. rensuke sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. stress marks on his forehead. “alright fine, m’sorry kid..” he mummbles, ruffling you head and bringing you to his chest in a soft hug, a genuine apology.

“whatever..” i grumble into his chest, hugging his waist. “just had a long week, wanted to have a good nap ya’know?” i mumble in his chest. he laughs, patting my head.

————————————————————————

god you miss him, miss the bickering, cuddles during movie nights, sneaking out of his parents house to the beach to have fun in the water.

sigh..come back soon ren.. i think to myself, chin resting in my hands as i stare tiredly at my laptop.

buzz buzz!

i glance at my phone, i gasp, jumping back in my chair as i grab my phone, bag and put on my shoes. rushing out the door to my car as i make my way out to kunigami’s house.

ren’s momma:3 : rensuke came home a few days ago! he’s home watching the house while im on vacation, go stop by and say hi sweetie!

i smile at he text, she was such a lovely woman. always helping you when your own mother couldnt.

i speed over to his house, pulling into the driveway as i race out of my car and run up to the door. i unlock it with my spare key, removing my shoes as i head downstairs to the basement. i walk down the stairs, a familiar living room, small work out coroner to the left, a kitchen, bathroom and washroom, his room in the far back of the basement. i take quiet careful steps towards his room, i push past the curtain to his room, his sent filling my nose as i lock my eyes on him.

“..hi- ren..” i say, i cant believe hes back, its been so, so long. i walk over to his side as he looks up at me.

budump. badump.

my heart beat rings in my ears as he looks up at me. his eyes are, cold. his stare is harsh, shooting daggers at you even.

what the fuck happened? did he join the military and quit soccer? i think to myself.

“so much for a warnin’..” he grumbles, voice almost hoars. a far cry from his calm, sweet voice that almost dripped with honey when he spoke soft enough.

“i-i..” i stutter, shocked at his change in demeanor and appearance. my mouth agape, mind flooded with questions.

“you just gonna stand there..” he says, more of a annoyed response than a question. he stands up, towering over you. fuck..was he always this big? i shake away the thought, looking up at him as i place my bag down next to him doorframe. i whisper “how are you..?” im feeling, uneasy..his whole vibe is just— off.

“fine.” he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. he looks almost unsure, like your a complete stranger.

“u-um..can i have a hug?” i stutter, the tension in the air is almost suffocating me. he glances down at me and my heart drops.

disgust, like a dirty dog jumping all over him.

“ive got better things to do, no.” he says stern and cold lacing his voice, hes looking at me like a pest.

“oh- uh. okay? damn..” i grumble back, a pout forming on my lips at his harsh rejection. “what crawled up your ass?” i reply, pout turning into a almost scowl now as i eye him up and down when he walks past me. stopping after those words leave my lips.

“buzz off, ____. im busy, cant bother with your bitchy attitude today..” he almost growls, like you mean nothing to him.

“excuse me?” it comes out before i realize it, mh words laced with venom. my scowl now a nasty snarl as i turn to face him.

he turns his head to look at me, glaring at me like i just said something extremely disrespectful.

“whats your fuckin’ problem?” i growl, stepping closer to him, getting in his space much to his disliking.

“watch yer mouth.” he says sternly, turning to face me, he looks down at me with hate in his eyes. i cant stop the shiver it sent up my spine. i swallow the lump forming in my throat and glare back.

“or what? whats your fuckin’ issue? i dont see or hear from you in a year and you come back all tight and shit? fuck happened to “hi ___! i missed you how are you?” huh?” i throw my hands up, voice getting louder as the seconds past. my emotions taking full control at the sight of whats now left of my best friend.

“so damn mouthy..cant say anythin’ to you without you gettin’ bitchy can you?” he barks back, voice still low and deep but the bass almost shakes me off my feet.

“oh! look who finally grew some fuckin’ balls! guess they kicked your ass around in there huh?” i say, a sly, almost devilish, grin appearing on my face. basically poking a angry bear with a stick.

he growls, “watch yourself..im not fuckin’ around ____..” vemon starts lacing his words just as much, if not more, than you.

“i just want to see my best friend, is that so bad? you couldnt have even TRIED to call me? you call your mother and sisters but not me? i though i was special to you?” i scoff, i understand he worked hard at blue lock. i mean, its quite literally all over his face— but he couldnt even relay a message back to me? not once for the 11 months he was there? my eyes feel sore as they gloss over. fuck..no relax, keep it together ____ . i think to myself.

“well? what happened to all those promises? that youd call me if it ended up being something long term, if you could get your hands on a phone?” i day, voice cracking slowly as my resolve to ‘keep it together’ .

“i dont have time to listen to your bitchin’..so fuckin noisy..didnt wanna hear you bitch ‘n moan over the phone or in person.” he spat back. that does it. the frog jumping from my throat as i double over myself in a sob. unable to stop once i start, i rub my eyes as i start breathing harder, hiccuping every so often.

had he always felt like this? did all i really do is ‘bitch ‘n moan’ to him? what about my other friends? my family, teachers? his mom, or sisters? you always did have quite the talent for annoying people ever since you were small. being left out or subtly teased in ‘friend’ groups, being dared to leave at sleep overs and partys. you tried cigs, weed and alcohol to try and seem cool to your peers. trying to push the thoughts of self harming in any way you could think of as you down two more shots, head feeling like cotton as your ‘friends’ all pack into their car and drive off. leaving you absolutely stranded and alone a hour from home.

you dont know when you feel to the ground but your on your knees, right hand on the carpet of his floor while your left grips your shirt on your chest as you breath faster and faster. mind racing fast at how to calm down, trying to focus on anything but the loud negative thoughts clouding your head. ears ringing loud starts dying back, your eyes are focused back in, breathing jagged but stable as you start counting up. soon you let out a shakey breath before looking up at kunigami. your eyes widen in shock when you see him looking down at you with such hatred.

“your so pathetic. get the fuck up.” he barks, not a single ounce of remorse for his so called ‘best friend.’

i get up, knees shakey as i stumble. i look up at him and glare. “your bein’ a fuckin’ cunt right now kunigami.” his family name spilling from my lips like hot lava.

his face scrunches slightly at the sound of his family name coming from you mouth, something you never called him. “watch yer mouth, brat.” he growls.

“bite me, ren!” i snap back, my minds blank of how we ended up back to arguing but i continue to curse at him, ‘bitch’ and ‘pussy’ leave my mouth multiple times as i grill into him, walking closer to him, my hands shoving him backwards towards the wall….is what you swore just happened. your back and head are pounding as you feel the wall behind you and big strong hands holding yours next to your head in a painful grip, sharp, mean eyes staring at you like prey..

“shut up.” he spits, literally. he spit in your face. you flitch back at this, yelling as i trash in his grip. “let me go..! ren let me go!” i bark , trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“shut..up!” he yells back, pulling me forward before slamming me back against the wall. i yelp and stare at him wide eyed. a pathetic whimper leaving my throat as he moves closer to my face.

“watch that smart mouth of yours..or i teach you how to shut the fuck up..” he growls against my ear, body now flush against my chest. i can feel his heart beat..

“g-get the— fuck off me..!” i groan, once again squirming as his grip on my wrist tighten. he presses his body harder against mine, preventing me from moving as i squeak in surprise.

“do it again, watch what i fuckin’ do to you..” he whispers, for some reason its scarier than when his voice is raised. ‘he wont do shit..’ i think.

wrong. ooh sooo wrong you were.

his hands maneuver my hands above my hands, his left hand holding them firm against the wall. his right hand you ask? shoving his two longest fingers down your throat, harshly.

i gag hard on his thick fingers, trashing around as much as i could as he starts fucking my throat with his fingers, not pulling the out more than two inches before plunging the back down my throat. i gag and choke on his fingers as i try to pull my head away. i feel my eyes start to flutter into rhe back of my head at the lack of oxygen.

“fuckin’ slut..always bitchin’ ‘bout somethin’ dumb…fuckin’— take it..” he groan in my ear, it sends a shiver down my spine as my heads pushed back more as he pushes his digests deeper.. my body starts slowly sliding down the wall, he lets go of my wrist as he pulls me fully to my knees. my hands fly to his wrist and grip it weakly, trying to pull his hand out of my throat. tears begin to fall from my eyes as he tug my head back by my hair. a loud moan coming my sore throat.

“ gag, r- gag, en— gag” i sputter out, his fingers moving faster. my eyes fully rolling back now as i feel myself going limp.

“shut it, fuckin’ whore..you wanna talk back? this is what happens when you dont fuckin’ listen..” he growled into my ear. soon he removes his fingers, i lean against his thick thigh as i gasp and cough for air. his hand lands on my head, he grips my hair and pulls my neck back to look up at him. my eyes wide at the sight of his cock, gulp, hes huge..to big— way to fuckin’ big..

“open yer mouth..” he demands, i gasp as hip tip hits my lips. he takes this as a invitation to slam himself down my throat. i gag, hard, on his cock. his hand in my hair using it as a handle to pull my head up and down his length. using my mouth to his desires.

“shit— thats right..t-take this dick..fuuuck..” he groans lowly, rolling his head back as his tip hits the back of my throat. hips bucking up in my mouth.

a lewd, gul gul gul, comes from my throat as i open my mouth to gag and cough on his cock. my hands gripping his thighs harshly. nails leaving marks in there wake as i claw his legs. i fall on my ass as he pushing my back flush against the wall as he snaps his hips in my mouth over and over. calloused hands slammed against the wall and he uses my mouth like some fleshlight.

“fuckfuckfuck— take it- take this dick- f-fuck, g-gonna cum down that f-fuckin’ nasty throat baby..” he looks down, hips snapping at a slower speed but deeper this time small ‘take it.’ ‘s leave his mouth as he reaches his high. pressing my head against his pelvis with his right hands while he leans his forehead on his left forearm. groaning- no— growling as he cums down my throat. i cough and gag as he fills my mouth, he pulls away harshly as i gasp and take big gulps as i swallow his cum. my face is covered in spit ‘n cum.

“w-what..cough, gulp, is wrong- with you..?!” i shout hoarsly, throat sore from his assault with his cock.

he dosent reply, grabing my neck as he grips it harshly. walking me backwards and turning me around before pushing me on the bed. he pulls down my shorts and underwear quickly, he spits on my cunt. rubbing two fingers up from my clit to my entrance, pushing past my walls as he starts fingering me and hard.

i put my right hand out behind me, left gripping the blankets on his bed and i try to push his hand away. but, my attemps are in vain as he pins my hands behind my back as keeps fingering me, pushing a third finger in as he speeds up. he leans his chest against me from behind, his mouth biting down on my nape. leaving a harsh teeth back as he starts biting my neck.

“fuckin’ mouthy bitch..take my fuckin’ fingers slut..fuuck..pussy fuckin’ loves it huh..” he growls against my neck. my face falling against his bed as i moan loudly. hips grinding up to match his pace as a knot forms in my stomach.

“dont you dare fuckin’ cum..beg me for it..” he groans against my ear, licking and kissing down and up my neck. im a babbling mess but i manage to say one thing.

“f-fuuuck— you..!” i squeal as i feel myself on the brink of cumming. he pulls his hand from my cunt and pulls my leg up by my knee. resting it on his bed before he starts slapping my cunt and ass over and over.

“you never learn huh? fuckin’ spoiled brat.” he growls, slapping my wet cunt one last time as hard as he could. drawing a loud moan from my throat as my body loses the tenseness it had from his spanking. he pulls away, pulling my hips flush against his cock, he pulls my hips up and down along his length a few times before slipping into my pussy with a slow, deep thrust. his left hand pulling my head back by the hair, again…sigh… “fuckin’ loud mouth bitch..ill make you fuckin’ learn to hold that ditry tongue of yours next time..” he moans, hips slamming against mine as he using my hair as a handle to push himself deeper..

“r-reennnn-suukeee!” i gasp in a high pitches moan, taking my bottom lip between my teeth as i try to hold myself up with his harsh thrust pushing me forward over and over. fuck hes strong.. i think to myself, eyes crossing as he hits my g-spot dead on. i let out a loud, high pitches moan as he hits it repeatedly.

kunigami lets out a nasally laugh before he speaks. “that yer spot slut? s-shit..tightened around me- gotta be it hm?” he leans forward, harsh grip on your hair moving to you shoulder before wrapping his muscular arm around your neck. a headlock.

he hold his wrist with his left hand to hold your neck firmly. “f-fuuuck..thats it you dirty whore..cum on my cock- t-there ya go..shit..” he growls against my ear, pulling me into a messy and rough kiss as he hips pump his cock deeper into me.

i moan in his mouth as he tightens the headlock, i pull back as he hits my spot one last time before i cum hard on his cock. but of course, his pace quickens. chasing his own high.

he lets go of my neck, letting my chest and head fall against his bed and he pulls my hips higher. practically slamming my hips against his. its to much for your poor cunt.

“g-gonna cum..fuck— such a good pussy, fuuck..!” he growls once more before pulling me flush against him as he cums deep inside me. he leans against my back as he pumps his hips slowly as he drags out his orgasam.

“..not done with you yet..still havent learned your lesson properly have you?” he snarls in my ear.

its gonna be a long night..

————————————————————————

end!

hello hi yes its been a while (almost a year—) i hope you enjoyed!! i sure as hell did!! please feel free to reblog as it is greatly appreciated! :3

- dolly..

*do not copy, translate or steal my work.*

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Wednesday: Enid can you help me with my college application? The last school I applied to rejected me with a letter that said ‘god no, you need psychiatric help’. It’s not that I’m not flattered, but I don’t know what that has to do with my academic pursuits.

Enid: Any excuse to get in some homoerotic bestie bonding.

Wednesday: What?

Enid: Nothing. Shut up. Changing the subject. Okay, first question, sex? That’s easy—

Wednesday: Ew, no. I don’t even know what the admissions board looks like.

Enid: No they mean like biological sex… I hope.

Wednesday: Oh, female.

Enid: Yeah I know I was just reading the question. Whatever, moving on, what are your hobbies?

Wednesday: I like to go for walks in the park.

Enid: Aw, that’s sweet.

Wednesday: Scouting the area for birds nests, hoping to come across an egg or a newly hatched chick to touch and put my scent onto. So when the mother bird returns my scent causes her to abandon these birds who now view me as their true mother, due to our scent relationship.

Enid: What the actual— Wednesday that’s fucked up. You take pleasure from disrupting wildlife family dynamics? What is wrong with you?

Wednesday: It’s not for pleasure, Enid. It’s to build my militia.

Enid: Your what now?

Wednesday: Over the last few years I’ve built up a collective of give or take 600 birds who have now fully matured and view me as a maternal figure, a monarch, a supreme leader if you will. And as a result they will do whatever I wish.

Enid: That is so… fucking cool. Oh my god, wait let me write this down ‘is a bird war lord’.

Wednesday: Put down maternal figure. Say ‘maternal bird overlord’. I don’t want them thinking I’m full of myself.

Enid: More approachable, got it.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Between the Pages

Summary: grappling with his violent past, Ettore is unexpectedly challenged by the silence of his unassuming cellmate | Word Count: 3.4k~ | warnings: mentions of noncon as a crime, violence

A/N: I've been wanting to kind of do a character heavy fic for a while since I read the interview about Ettore coming of age aboard the ship, so enjoy my take on it 😘

The darkness nibbled at the edges of him. From his feet and fingers, to his ankles and wrists, up his arms and legs. 

It curled deep in his gut, sliding around like oil inside, slick with a morbid curiosity that had lingered there for years. It crept up, weaving through his arteries and veins like vines, choking what purity there used to be, an innocent ignorance, and tainting it, into a sort of murky, sunless void.

He thought that once, he was capable of feeling anything else. Perhaps once, he was capable of love. Of some kind of affection. Maybe even deserved it.

After all, the ones you loved unconditionally, were supposed to give that same love back.

Right?

The day that darkness reached his heart, sucking the soul out of it like the way tendons and fat stick to meat as it’s torn up into chunks, was the day that Ettore understood this truth. Nobody was entitled to love. Not even him. And those people who were supposed to care, supposed to protect him, had abandoned him. What use was there in hoping for it now? He thought so often to himself. 

His body felt so heavy, felt so fucking heavy. The hatred marinated inside. Festered. What was there to do, but simply let it stay and rot? To allow it to become you.

How foolish of him to think that those who participated in making him, who chose to bring him into existence, would be able to give him the nourishment and support he wanted. That he needed. It was a story so often heard. That caregivers cared not about the people they assisted in bringing into this world. Their own children. At first, he admitted, he brushed it off.

It’s just the way my family is. Every family has different dynamics.

Until he couldn’t remember the last time his father had ever spoken to him. And then he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him. And then finally, his face. How he spoke. How he rolled up his cigarettes. He only remembered the smell of him. Fusty and deep. Like how old pubs smell. And the stench of whisky on his breath and yellowed teeth. 

He remembered being on the end of his fist most often. 

And when he was gone, though it was softer, he remembered then the palm of his mother’s. She didn’t have the strength of his father’s, but all the bite.

Trying to stay out of her way proved difficult most days. More often than not, he’d be out, even in the midst of winter as the wind nipped at his bones and the chill sank into his skin, he didn’t want to see the hysterical, screaming mess of a woman that was once his mother to be the first thing he came across when he got home. God forbid she ever spotted him.

He thought she must have thought he looked too similar to his father or something like that. Perhaps it was the eyes, the temperament or the expression. He hoped, somewhere deep, that it was perhaps the crime. Then there may have been some explanation for the way he was.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him, so it was often easiest, to be out of her eyeline altogether. He wasn’t much better at staying out of trouble outside the confines of his home. Out there, in the big, wide world that he was so underprepared for, it was still difficult to be accepted. People had to want to be his friend, after all.

Eventually, he just didn’t even try. Though there was still a desire for acceptance, one he didn’t get by befriending men of a similar age and temperament to him. 

It felt only right, that he used the only things he felt he had, to his advantage. Looks. Talk. Confidence. Three things he was never short on.

And also the three things that fed easily into how he coped and how he eventually morphed into the person he was today. The looks got him into women’s beds, and in between their thighs too. The talk got them to stop fighting, to stay still and let him have his way. The confidence was the one thing in the end that worked to his disadvantage, thinking that the ones who he’d let get away wouldn’t say anything, and the ones he kept quiet by clamping his hands around her tiny, little necks, would inevitably fade away into non-existence. 

He still remembers the way their blood roared against his palms, how their breaths stuttered in his grip, and that addictive wide-eyed look, and the slow, blinking fade of life from their eyes. He thought there was nothing more powerful than holding someone’s very life-blood in his grip, and that was when he knew the rot had taken hold inside him. 

If he could, he would have wiped every judgemental glare off everyone in the courtroom that day. What use was there in pretending to be remorseful, as if he didn’t savour the memory of choking the hell out of those women with his dick so deep inside them still he could feel the way their bodies tried to reject him. Those are the memories he thinks of in those lonely nights in the Box. Those are the cold dark hands that drag him further and further. Until perhaps there is nowhere further to go.

Which is why she confuses him. His cellmate sleeps above him, a woman who he has strangely paid little attention to and can’t for the life of him figure out why. The narrow confines of their shared cell, with its cold, steel surfaces and harsh fluorescent lights, force a proximity that is usually unbearable for him. Yet, with her, there is an unspoken truce that puzzles him further.

There is a suffocating silence in the cell at night. Ettore’s usual trigger lay dormant for a while, an uneasy peace reigning in the small, padded space he shares with her. Unlike the other women aboard the ship, callous, loud and obnoxious, this woman keeps to herself, hovering just beyond the reach of his understanding.

Each day that goes by, he tries to solve the puzzle that she is. Why doesn’t she flinch at his gaze? Why doesn’t she cower? It’s as if she moves through a different realm, her demeanour calm, almost detached, unaffected by the chaos that typically surrounded him and the others alike, or the violence he is known for. 

She is a question without an answer, unsettling him more with each passing day. He sometimes imagines her figure from his bottom bunk, and how she would look while she sleeps, often with her eyes glued to the pages of a book. And he knows from the gentle thud of her tired hand and the half-opened novel on the mattress, that she has likely exhausted herself to sleep from reading and straining in the dark.

So he starts to look for signs, any clue that might explain her indifference, her silence. But she gives nothing away, her routine meticulous and quiet. When she reads, she never looks up. He supposes there is no reason for her to. Does anyone even know her name? Or do they do what he used to do, and just pretend she never existed in the first place? Perhaps that’s where she feels most comfortable.

It gnaws at him more than any confrontation could. His history with women was fraught with aggression, violence and brutality, but it provides no playbook for this experience. There is no anger in her silence, no fear. She merely exists in a state of complete neutrality, leaving him to wonder why she is even in prison in the first place. This indifference to life itself, it seems, is more disarming than any verbal or physical challenge. 

He hopes for a flicker of annoyance when he makes too much noise coming back to their shared cell some nights. But nothing. He hopes for the one day she glances up from her book, eyes clear and calm, as if nothing is wrong. 

She was like a candle unlit. A sheet of snow upon the ground without a fault or a footstep to taint it. Like a notebook you kept but didn't have the heart to write in for the first time, for the fear of ruining the very first page.

So it is that night, he lays with his hands behind his head, ever kept in a state of wide-eyed curiosity, when he hears the familiar thud of her tired hand dropping her novel. She never seems annoyed when she loses her place in her story, she simply gets up in the morning, and places something flat where she thinks she was, and is more than happy to start all over again. 

Despite the silence, his mind races, thoughts swirling and colliding in the shadows. He’s grown accustomed to the rhythms of their cohabitation, the sound of her breathing, the slight shifts of her body in the bunk above him, the soft rustle of pages turning. These sounds punctuate his nights, a constant reminder of her presence.

And yet, tonight, there’s a different kind of awareness, a curiosity that edges toward something he can’t quite name. It’s not desire, not the kind he’s known before, which was always tangled with aggression and control. This is something else, something quieter, more invasive. He wants to see her as she sleeps, to witness her in a moment of unguarded vulnerability, not to disturb or dominate, but to understand.

This thought, this need to see her face relaxed in sleep, strikes him with a pang of guilt. Even in the dim light of self-awareness, he recognises that this impulse feels like a violation, an intrusion into her silent world. He’s used to taking space, not just physically but emotionally, imposing his will on others as a way to affirm his existence. But with her, the dynamics are different. She offers nothing to conquer, only a silence to be filled, and in that silence, his own reflections become too loud, too clear.

Lying there, Ettore wrestles with the pull of his curiosity and the weight of his past. He knows too well the darkness that lives within him, the ease with which he could turn a moment of curiosity into something far more sinister. The battle within him is a quiet one, but intense. The thought of crossing the boundary, even just to see her in her sleep, stirs a deep-seated fear that he might revert to the man he was, the man he still is, underneath the surface of this uneasy peace.

His limbs move as if detached from his will. He places one hand on the cold metal of the ladder, then another, his movements slow, deliberate. Every rung of the ladder creaks softly under his weight, a grim soundtrack to his betrayal of self-promises. His heart pounds in his ears, not with excitement, but with a dread that feels both foreign and familiar.

As he ascends, each step feels heavier, burdened not by physical weight but by the gravity of his intentions. He pauses halfway, his body tensed, his mind screaming for him to retreat. But the pull is too strong, the need to see her, to understand why she affects him so profoundly, why she can exist so close to him yet remain a world apart.

Reaching the top, Ettore pauses, barely breathing. He is close enough now to hear her gentle breaths, the soft exhale of sleep that seems so at odds with the storm raging in his soul. She is a portrait of peace, her eyelids fluttering slightly with dreams he cannot begin to fathom. He yearns to understand her not because she is an enigma, but because in her quiet resilience, he sees a reflection of what he might have been, what he still could be. It's a longing not only to understand but also to be understood, to be seen not as the sum of his past actions but as the person he struggles to become.

He approaches her bunk with a reverence that surprises him. As he lays down gently beside her, he is acutely aware of the sanctity of the moment, of her trust not to be breached and of his own resolve not to revert to the man he knows he really is deep down. 

But there is a vulnerability that is roused in him when he watches her like this, and he doesn't recognise or like it one bit. It'd be so easy to just wrap his hands around her neck, like he had done before so instinctively, and be rid of her. Maybe then he wouldn't question this side of himself that has bubbled to the surface.

The mere idea of putting his fingers around her throat has adrenaline soaring in his veins.

But Ettore pulls back from the precipice of this dark impulse almost as quickly as it arises. The primal, instinctual urge to eliminate what confuses him, to destroy rather than confront, surges within him, his hands tensing at his sides. Yet, as he watches her, her chest gently rising and falling with each breath, he finds himself caught in a storm of conflicting emotions.

It's horrifying, the ease with which violence still beckons to him. The quiet, once a cloak she wrapped around herself, now envelops him too. The battle is not with her, not even with the world outside, but inside. But this realisation does not bring peace. Far from it.

Feeling as if his heart in his throat, his palm hovers above her body, starting from her legs. He is trembling, leaving an inch of space that feels like a chasm. And yet he can feel the heat of her form, as if radiating from her skin and pulsing into his.

He passes over her hips, his eyes zeroed in on a slither of skin that has become visible beneath her sleeping shirt. It beckons to him like a test of his will. If she were anyone else, one hand would hold her down, while the other would rip her sweatpants off and-

He clenches his fist tight, his eyes mirroring the struggle. Every moment he chooses restraint, he is redefining himself.

And yet as he descends the steps down from her bunk, she hadn't moved an inch and the prospect of her being a deep sleeper makes the intrusive desire to do this again ever more prevalent. It doesn’t reassure him at this point, rather it feeds into the dangerous allure of doing it again, and again, and again.

And each time in the days following, what he does becomes more bold, skirting around the edges of darkness he knows full well lurks beneath. He waits every night for the thud of her book on the bed, for her quiet breathing to let him know that it is safe to venture into what feels like dangerous territory.

Hovered hands become soft brushes against her flesh. Initially, these contacts are mere brushes, fleeting and barely there, against her arms, perhaps unintentionally grazing her leg, or the slope of her shoulder. With each night, his touches grow slightly more deliberate, and when he has straddled that line too closely and she stirs or readjusts, he feels his heart quicken and chest tighten. Sometimes he almost wants her to wake up, just to see what he would instinctively do.

This dangerous game continues, each touch a test of his self-control. His fingers linger a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek one night, the warmth of her breath against his hand, and the next day he struggles to even glance in her direction alongside the torrent of emotions within him. The fear that he is becoming the monster he dreads appears more real than ever. The very act of touching her in her sleep, though innocent, yet an invasion of her privacy and autonomy, is a stark reminder of the control he once wielded without thought.

He understands now that this cannot continue. The path he is on, though it started with a quest for understanding and connection, is veering dangerously close to old patterns that had once felt familiar. And yet with her of which he cannot even envision.

He knows the only way to break this cycle, to truly change, is to confront the situation directly and honestly. No more silent, uninvited intrusions in the dark; he needs to face her in the light, to speak to her and gauge her response, to decide his next steps based on a genuine interaction rather than his own conjectures and impulses.

All the scenarios run rampant in his mind, stealing every quiet moment in his day to day life seemingly without effort. 

He is desperate to hear her voice, just for him, a sound to anchor the whirlwind inside.

If he speaks and she glances up from between her precious pages, with a look of fear, judgement, anger…there just might still be violence screaming in his gut. He imagines, with a chilling clarity, how he might react. To watch those eyes that have never landed upon him, wide-eyed and panicked with fear, her hands that would usually hold those delicate covers as if they were sentient, thrashing and scratching at his skin for escape.

However, if her eyes meet his with calmness, a soft but unyielding clarity, it might signal a different path. Such a look could secure him, pull him back from the brink, offering a glimpse of a different kind of interaction, one rooted in mutual respect rather than fear.

Throughout the day, Ettore wrestles with the decision to approach her at an unusual time, a moment outside their routine interactions, which are typically defined by the unspoken boundaries and silent acknowledgements of shared space. The weight of this choice, loaded with the potential for a shift in their dynamic, presses on him.

Finally, as the day bleeds into evening, he steels himself and walks towards their cell, a path he has traversed countless times yet now feels distinctly different. His footsteps echo slightly in the empty corridor, a hollow sound that seems to beat in rhythm with his anxious heart. He pauses at the doorway, his hand resting against the cold metal frame for a moment. He had never been short on confidence, until right this moment.

She is there, as always, perched on her bed with a book cradled in her lap, her attention fully absorbed by the pages. The familiar sight of her, so engrossed in her literary world, momentarily steadies him. "Hey," he calls out softly, his voice slightly rough around the edges from the turmoil inside him.

At the sound of his voice, she looks up, her expression shifting from concentrated reading to mild surprise. Her eyes meet his, clear and calm, carrying none of the fear or judgement he had feared. "Hey," she responds simply, her voice a quiet echo to his own.

In that brief exchange, just a single word spoken by each, there's a palpable shift. It's not a definitive answer to all his internal questions, but it grants him a moment of reprieve from his fears of eliciting a negative reaction. So he stands there, momentarily rooted to the spot by the simplicity and normalcy of her response. And it is this moment where her eyes are piercing right into him that he is offered his first real glimpse into her as well. Features he had usually seen undisturbed by the quiet of sleep felt familiar and yet uncharted now, such as the flutter of her eyelashes and the decorating of freckles across her cheeks, and the small, curious pupils looking between his eyes as if for an answer.

Realising he's been standing silent for too long, Ettore scrambles mentally for something to say, to break the growing awkwardness that feels almost like a first encounter. His lips part, ready to forge some semblance of normal conversation.

No sooner are his lips parted that he is rendered into silence he once would have expected from her. She dog-eared the page, closed her book off her lap and brushed her hair from her face, and spoke with a soft tone laden with genuine concern. It feels like an invitation, a door opening to endless possibilities where she has seen past the facade of toughness to the raw, uncertain man beneath. She invites him into a space where he can be vulnerable, and yet he is still unsure if he even wants to be there. Can those raging, endless violent impulses ever be quieted by just a couple of words?

“You okay?”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy

@justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3

[weebsinstash]

hey, can I have more husband and wife family dynamics with thragg? maybe more about her pregnancy or the kids' childhood/baby time?

Sure can! It's been pretty fun writing about potential scenarios where this monstrous piece of shit can actually feel love. First and foremost I was watching a video on YouTube going over this scene again and uh Comic Readers KNOW How Fucked This Man Is. um, out of context vague spoilers but, I'm assuming people asking about Thragg have read the comics or are curious about the comics but like yall Need To Know how he treats the kids of his enemies

I feel like I need to share/remind people of this scene because like, this man can be kind of hard to pin down. He's from this loveless society that sees kindness as weakness and he's like King Dickhead but there are still times when he can be quite courteous, even apologetic, sarcastic, whatever. I think at the end of the day he's just a very selfish, explosive, emotionally impulsive man but revisiting this scene was a little surprising for me since I forgot he was even like, capable of "small kindnesses" like saying sorry or whatever. Like. Is him wiping her tears while smearing blood all over her face a well intentioned accident or is he like waging psychological warfare on this like, i think she's literally 5 years old. What is the purpose of him apologizing to a child for splashing blood of her family member on her when he intends to kill her or leave her for dead in front of her dying parents anyways. I'm still trying to get a feel on this man

THAT BEING SAID, moving on, we're talking about a yandere Thragg today and thankfully that comes with perks

- it's pretty obvious but like, you are his favorite mate and your children are his favorite children. I like to think of concepts with Reader being Ursaal and Onaan's mother or even the previously mentioned triplet idea with Mark being their sibling (otherwise I'd have to invent new characters and that doesn't, resonate the same, and I also really like Ursaal actually and I feel like there's some real story potential in Ursaal discovering more of her humanity through her mother's kindness and wanting to protect her mother from her father)

-can you imagine like. I still think about the idea where you're actually Nolan's mate but one day you mouth off to Thragg and he "puts you in your place" in front of Nolan as a punishment to you both and like a month later you find out you're pregnant and, I imagine abortions are only done on Viltrum if the fetus is too weak or defective, so you're forced to carry it and you and Nolan are lying that it's his and then one day Thragg just, passes by, sees your swelling tummy, takes one sniff of you, "it's mine" and demands a paternity test. And you'd think, "oh surely he'd just take the baby" which is what you'd prefer but, no it becomes a pretext for him to steal you from Nolan altogether

-you're fed incredibly nutrient dense, protein packed, ultimate pregnancy food because Thragg wants those babies as healthy as possible. Thragg has probably had other alien kids before but these are his first hybrid or nearly fully Viltrumite children and that makes them special. New dad Thragg holding up these little absolute mammoths of newborns with all their chunk and pudge and rolls and he's just so proud, "look at how robust these children are! Surely they have inherited my strength! Fine additions to the Viltrum Empire were born on this day" and you're like half awake in bed and he just, pets your hair

-ok just. Ok just picture it like. You're pregnant and upset and so stressed out because you didn't want to be Nolan's mate after he helped conquer Earth but at least you had known him and liked him initially. You're just constantly stressed out and angry and watching every single word you say around Thragg because you don't know him or what he's capable of, but I imagine a sort of scenario where he's taking you to the doctor and running tests and procedures and just, you know prenatal checkup stuff, but the doctors are all speaking to Thragg instead of you, you aren't even being told your own test results, and the two of you finally arrive back home and you just break down crying and kind of tear into him, "I'm sure YOU have had lots of kids before but I'VE never had a baby before and I don't know what to expect or what's going to happen or- or -" and you're just bawling because, it's not a lie you're scared. You're having a baby and you're gonna be a new mom and it's entirely against your will, out of your control, and that's incredibly stressful. And this becomes a moment where Thragg actually shows some humanity by sitting you down and discussing the doctors visit with you, and that's one of the first times the two of you actually have a civil, extended conversation

Thragg thinking he's so fucking big and tough and then he sees you this little fragile fleshy untrained civillian with the big teary boo hoo eyes with your shaking hands on your little belly as you cry about being scared about giving birth to his baby and he's just, "shit I DO have feelings" and immediately feels the overwhelming need to comfort you. He'll comfort you under the guise of "stress isn't good for the children" which is true but, it's him blanketing his own concern and masking it under an excuse

-I kind of feel like that hypothetical event would be like, a footnote in your relationship. He starts treating you differently, attentive in new ways, more... emotional ways. He'll stop by while he's working on a break or something to check on with you and the assigned caretakers he has guarding you (because the very second you're confirmed pregnant you have 24/7 security) and he'll awkwardly grunt out questions about, have you eaten yet, are you experiencing any pain today, any discomfort, any new symptoms. He'll check in with your guards/nannies privately about if there's anything you're doing that he needs to know about, give tou a nice husbandly shoulder touch and then (reluctantly) getting back to work

-to be blunt part of me questions if he even has sex to create children or if he uses something akin to IVF and I only say this because of the absolute ASSEMBLY LINE he sets up on Thraxia. Trust me though he beats the kitty up with you CONSTANTLY

-I actually think after giving birth is like the ONE time you're allowed any birth control because apparently if you have too many pregnancies in too close time frames it actually sucks the calcium out of your bones and can give you osteoarthritis and Thragg wants you healthy, "for more future children obviously" which is such a lie because let's say you have your miracle birth of giving him twins or triplets or whatever but you hemmorage and become infertile or whatever. Mf is STILL keeping you around. When you think about it he technically doesn't even need you to help raise his children, he has people for that, but he forces you to be part of the process anyways

- tbh I kind of like the idea of Thragg developing some weird fucking like complex where he discovers he feels comforted cuddling you, like man gets hit by oxytocin like a fucking freight train, and it becomes him literally being unable to sleep without you in his arms. You could be in a yelling screaming argument with this man and he suddenly like, just completely shuts you down, "ENOUGH!! I require rest and I won't tolerate anymore of your childish whining!" And you could be spitting mad at him and he's just, picking you up just physically picks you up and drags you to bed anyways. Hooks his arms around your waist as the big spoon and buries his face in your hair even as you spit insults about how you hope he kills himself

Like I think I've mentioned this idea with other characters before but imagine Thragg waking up on the middle of the night IMMEDIATELY PISSED because the bed beside him is cold and he finds you on the couch, on the couch, maybe even without blankets and visibly uncomfortable, because yeah he WILL wake you up to drag you back to bed with him.

- Thragg being this warrior who literally watched people be disembowled and tortured and conquered races but suddenly you're in labor and he's in the delivery room (he refuses to wait outside) watching you literally scream in pain and he just, takes your hand and tells you to squeeze, and that it'll be alright, and he sees you so vulnerable and scared and emotional and you're looking to him for some kind of help but he can't, even with all his strengths and feats he can't help you right now, however this pregnancy goes is up to fate and the doctors and he feels like an actual visceral HUMBLING sense of helplessness that just makes him, even more obsessively protective over you

- deadass if it becomes a "he can only save one: you or the children" life-threatening pregnancy scenario, he chooses you. Says you can always try again but even if you wind up infertile and "useless" to him, he's too attached to you at this point, it doesn't matter if you "don't serve a function" or whatever bullshit Viltrumite mindset he may have had with previous mates before. You're different to him, and you're making HIM different as a person

- You're just half alive on the couch because Giving Birth is Hard and here's Thragg doing shit like personally bringing you water, feeling your forehead for any fever, monitoring your condition, aggressively interrogating your guards for extra info, sitting beside you with your babies in his arms. He lets you rest after giving birth and nearly bends over backwards

- I feel like at some point you're forced to accept a lot of real fucked up stuff and especially if you are a hybrid Vultrimite yourself and thus will be with Thragg for, basically forever, like some real "mate, do you have any cravings today. What do the children require" "ummm... at the ceremony last month, there was that... blue, little.... crab thing?" "A Florkian. They are incredibly rare" "oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know-" " -and since I observed that you were fond of the taste when you were consuming them, I went ahead and conquered their homeworld and farms have been established. I can have the slaves prepare a dish for you right away" "oh, thank you, ive been craving it ever since i ate it but i didnt want to bother by asking 🥰" "as your mate it is my duty to provide for you. Do not keep any of your desires from me"

- your children are getting trained as soldiers the second they develop powers and that's something you'll have to get used to. If your little babies get their powers at 5, they're still learning combat, getting knocked around, near beaten, "toughened up". Thragg will conceal the full extent of how they're treated from you because the way he sees it, you weren't raised on Viltrum and you're simply ignorant of their culture. He doesn't need you to accept how things are. Your kids will come home with black eyes and bruises and bloodied noses and he'll growl at you not to make them too soft as you weep over Ursaal missing a chunk of her hair because an opponent grabbed her by it and she had to break away and some was ripped out at her scalp, like. The psychological damage of asking your small child how their day with their father went, "it was excellent mother, I made my first kill!!" And then gleefully describing to you in detail how while their father was fighting an enemy soldier, the soldiers child attacked yours, and, your baby killed another kid. Like. That's the sort of thing you have to be raised with to block out of your heart. Going to hug your child who may not even be 10 years old and they have literal blood on their hands

-personal headcanon but also semi canon but I imagine Ursaal is the most competent of your twins and is Thragg's favorite. She just has a better tactical mind on her shoulders and isn't, uh. As horribly sadistically violent as Onaan. Like say your kids become platonic yandere or whatever, or, you have your own kids with thragg and the twins are separate but still attached to you. Onaan is the kid you find killing cats because he's jealous they get more attention than him while Ursaal is like, giving her father incredibly detailed reports and her own insight into what you've been up to, how you're feelings, things you say and do when Thragg isn't around

-so I know y'all see that image I posted with Thragg and his twins. I tried to censor, The Cape last time but I realized like, even with censoring the head it's still super obvious who that is, there's only one white furred creature in this entire show. I imagine after Thragg gets his Beast Drip that, once Throkk's daughter comes for revenge, she is also slaughtered, and her pelt becomes YOUR cape. Or maybe Thragg offhandedly mentions to you that BB Jr has vowed vengeance and you're casually flipping through a book, "is she as strong as her father, like if you had to rate it 1 to 10 with her father being 10 and 1 being a human. If the daughter is at about a 7 or below, Ursaal should be able to handle her, get herself a nice coat to match her father" and Thragg feels this warmth in his chest to hear you're actually observant of his/your children and their prowess, especially to hear you praise Ursaal in such a uh violent context, just casually suggesting his daughter could turn another sentient humanoid creature into a pelt to wear. This is another example of "living the viltrum life will eventually dehumanize you and rob you of certain empathies"

- I don't think you would actually have a title but could you imagine if Thragg decides you're like, officially his true mate, like the mate above all others, like you're the Empress in his little harem of concubines and ladies in waiting. I hc that your official title is something like Grand Duchess or perhaps if this is the twin/triplet scenario something more vaguely historical sounding like The High Mother or Regent Mother or, you get the point

-I still think "Reader turns out to be an incredibly late blooming hybrid" is a neat concept but I also don't know how they would miss that since during your pregnancy and all you're receiving medical care out the ass but like. Thragg personally training both you and the children as a family. Would be kind of humiliating honestly because it's kind of vaguely implied you should learn things before the kids do and if you struggle, here's Thragg, telling his kids in private they have to protect you and keep an eye on you and report any problems back to him

- thragg would definitely be training you in hand to hand but suddenly finds he can't bear hitting you in the face or hitting you at a certain strength. Like. Absolutely 100% you're gonna have a lot of scenarios where you're brawling or wrestling and he pins you and it swiftly transitions to you getting rawdogged from your high on adrenaline husband. Tbh that sex would probably be his favorite, where he has to defeat you in combat and then rewards himself. Can probably border from hatesex to consensual to noncon, not that he has a problem doing THAT to you either

- probably has portraits done of you and him. Idk do you think Viltrum has like enough art culture for portraits to be a thing? Most fascist tyrants have portraits. He would have several done: you and him, just you, you while pregnant, him and you while pregnant, you holding your babies, you and him holding your babies, and family shots as they grow up. Say you conquer a planet together as a family and one day you're revisiting and there's some sort of museum set up amd you find like a wall length portrait of, you and your children soaked in blood tearing carnage through the fire and flames and Thragg is beside you just nodding in approval, "they captured your image rather well"

- goooooddddd imagine you're just a normal human and you progressively start showing signs of aging. You start getting more wrinkles. Your body starts working in different ways, popping, cracking, aching. Onaan, Ursaal, and Thragg all notice and they're like FREAKING OUT HONESTLY. The children don't want to accept that their mother is actually going to be a speck on the timeline of their entire lifespans. Thragg doesn't want to accept that he has to let you go and you're never coming back. They all become obsessed with finding ways to keep you young, keep you alive, fuck it they'll clone you and transfer your consciousness into a new body if they have to! This is comic book world and these are obsessed aliens and they have OPTIONS

- something something "what if Reader isn't a viltrumite hybrid but is still like super-powered or a mutant or whatever and this isn't revealed until you like are fatally injured or even DIE die and suddenly you, pop back up". Cause I feel like this "close call" would drive any yandere literally insane because, what if there's no second chance, what just happened, can you still die, they can never never never never never allow you to get hurt ever ever ever again

Thragg just walks into the kitchen and you have the stove top red hot and you've just got your palm resting on it and you look to him kind of just shocked, all, "look... nothing happens... I just feel some of the warmth" and Thragg just puts his fist through your oven anyways, "you could've gotten hurt" and immediately picking you up and carrying you to some sort of perceived "safer place"

- this is like a specific scenario but like, can you imagine as a mom you like to brush and comb Ursaal's hair and you idly suggest she could always grow it out more and you could help braid it and things, but once it starts getting longer Thragg objects and says it could get grabbed during a fight and orders her to cut it but you step in and say she shouldnt have to, it's HER hair, and you two get into it, and one day Ursaal is brought home by her father and he's all but shaved her head after she had actually grown it out to a decent length. You and Thragg are at odds over how to treat rhe children and Ursaal begins to realize that many of the restrictions her father instills on her are because of a way of life she may not fully agree with, a life filled with violence and bloodshed with no room for love or kindness or creativity. She probably helps you from going over the edge too, honestly. If anything else through this life with Thragg, in your darkest places you may still find yourself thinking you have to keep going to try and help your children

- with others, Thragg is the kind of yandere where he's standing in the same room as you and you're both doing completely different things and he suddenly says, "so I noticed during the meeting that your eyes kept lingering on my mate" and without further warning he's beating up someone on the accusation they were lusting for his wife, no discussion, just fists , and he'll do shit like this a lot to the point people don't feel comfortable being around you and you're just further socially isolated

- I feel like Thragg would have some weird like fondness slash fetish for watching you breastfeed. Like, awww here's his cute little wife with his chubby little babies and you're giving them their nice milk, what a good mom, providing for the babies he put in your belly ❤️ part of me is convinced if you're a viltrumite or hybrid or whatever that you uh. Eventually wind up with a lot of babies. A LOT of babies. Do you think he would want a specific amount or its just vibes. Like you're over 300 years old and you've already got 50 kids with him but he sees you teaching one of your youngest sons how to throw a punch and suddenly he wants another

- all I'm saying is if he ever catches you self harming or attempting to hurt yourself he's gonna have a real extreme reaction. Like he finds you cutting yourself with a broken glass and you're immediately restrained and taken to a hospital, completely stripped, inspected for other wounds, and if there are any and especially a lengthy history of them, you're in such trouble. But I also think it would be extremely difficult to hide this from him since as time goes on you two are constantly having sex or he's inviting himself into your shower to bathe with you. You accidentally bang your arm on a counter or something and get a tiny bruise, this man will know about it and wants a detailed report on where it came from

- even when you guys aren't super familiar with each other and you've "just met" he's already protective and all that. Like you've just been brought into his home and you barely even know him still and he may even act mean and angry to you and then one day he sees you have a large bruise on your arm, "what is this?" ".... it's nothing, Grand Regent" "I asked you a question and you'll answer me: where did this come from" "... I spoke out of turn with one of your advisors and turned to leave without permission, Grand Regent" "And so they grabbed you?" "Yes Grand Regent" "who" "it was my fault, I-" "WHO" and the second you give a name or description he's wordlessly leaving the room and shows up again HOURS later with visible blood on him, "it has been handled. You are not to be harmed or punished without my permission or instruction"

- in some scenario where you leave the kids behind and try to run away, like... he isn't just gonna throw up his hands, "well I already got children out of her, she has served her purpose" and leave you the fuck alone. If anything this man would track you down just to tell you off for having the fucking nerve to disobey and defy him! I can picture an actively captured wife where you are constantly kept on some kind of restraint or have a bracelet or collar or even a LEAD THAT HE HOLDS and you're IMPRISONED rather than "I'm being monitored but otherwise I have my own agency". Thragg will make himself a throne that you can be chained to if he has to. He'll have restraints made that are decorative and complimentary of your features. Imagine he's making some sort of public appearance and while he's speaking he's got an arm around your waist and you're pulled up against him and meanwhile you've got. A bar gag and cannot speak

- really, truly, in a way, you become a symbol, but one of all different kinds. There are Viltrumites who see how their mighty Grand Regent treats his mate and they are viscerally disgusted (Kregg and Lucan comes to mind), like people who really start to question the society they are living in, questioning if it really must be so selfish and devoid of empathy, questioning if they really want to keep living this way and for their children and their children's children to live like this. Then there are others who see the way the Grand Regent controls his mate and see its as a sign of strength and permission to treat their own mates the same.

Mostly, though... the only thing that will take you away from Thragg is death. Until the day one of you dies, you're stuck with him, and there's basically no one around who's stronger than he is, period. You might as well cozy up and get friendly with your new husband, since you're going to be together for a long time and spend lots, and lots, and LOTS of time together ❤️

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 8)

Tw: noncon touching, noncon kissing, afab reader anatomy, violence, toxic family dynamics

Masterlists, part 1, part 9

Thanks for the asks about cyprus guys, it do be helping me to unclog that authors block for this stimky

Especially the ones who wanted to know more about him, got the idea from themm

"...She's sick and she has a cert' to prove it. I'll ask her to send an email after this call."

You were awoken by Cyprus's voice early morning. Softly grumbling under your breath, you pushed yourself up and rubbed your eyes. Realizing that you were lying on top of his bare chest the entire night. A calloused hand holds you in place by the ass, while the other held onto his phone that is being pressed against his ear.

"Me? I told you. I'm not coming in today. An emergency came up." The annoyance on his face evaporated away as soon as he saw that you were awake. You grunted in displeasure as he pressed an audible kiss on your very sleepy form.

You tried focusing on his banter with Jane. But everything was gibberish to you as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Cyprus gently pushed you back down onto his broad chest as he saw you swaying side to side, obviously not at all fit to go to work.

You pressed your cheek against him and closed your eyes, letting your consciousness slowly drift away again.

"You figure it out, you're the manager." He barked before hanging up on her. Cyprus stretched his arm to open the drawer of his nightstand, dropping his phone next to yours inside it.

The brunette turned his attention to you. He groped your buttocks, it made you stir a little, but it looked like you were too tuckered out to care.

"Hey."

You replied with a weak hum.

"I want to smoke."

You let out a grunt of annoyance. Struggling to push yourself off him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Cyprus pressed you closer to him.

You said that you're trying to get out of the way so he could do his thing.

He huffed. "You're supposed to stop me."

You said that he is an adult. You have no right to tell him what to do or stop whatever urges he may have. You told him that you wished he would extend the same courtesy to you.

"Oh yeah? Well, I have the urge to fuck you stupid right now." This woke you up immediately, making you push him away and creating as much distance as possible. You would have run away if it wasn't for him caging you against the bed.

You began whining and whimpering, about to break into a loud scream, until,

"Relax. I'm not doing that today." His voice took on a condescending tone. However, his fingers are still digging into your soft flesh, keeping you in place under him.

"Help me fight the urge to smoke." He ordered. "I won't let you go until you do something about it."

You frowned, forcing your brain to think early this morning.

You asked when and why he started smoking. His eyes darted to the side as he actively recalled the first time he did it.

"I started when I was twelve." He rolled to your side, but his arm still kept you in place. "My sister tried her best to keep me away from it, but I was a little shit. I stole a pack from her handbag and the rest was history."

You asked what kept him going. He shrugged.

"I looked... cool. And it calms me down, I had to work after school, to pull my own weight around the house. Juice boxes and candies weren't enough to soothe my nerves after a long night of dealing with fucking morons." Cyprus absentmindedly played with your hair as he reminisced about his youth.

You asked him what work he could have possibly done as a 12-year-old.

"You know, like. Shady ones. I would sell random shit on the streets, become a delivery boy for some local gangs, weirdos paid me to leave dead animals on doorsteps of specific people..." He trailed off.

You asked what he used the money on.

"Well, firstly, to keep the lights on. Secondly, on more cigarettes."

You asked how come the money from his mother and sister wasn't enough, that a young boy like him had to be robbed of his childhood to work. To that, he scowled, but not necessarily at you for asking such a question, but it was more like he wasn't fond of the memory.

"Looking expensive was apparently more important than her kids getting three meals a day." You waited for him to elaborate on that.

"We had a coffee machine when we couldn't even afford the right coffee. She had to outshine her so-called friends at church, wearing a new dress every week in her favorite color; gold. While we had to go insane and sleepless trying to put food on the table." He spat, feeling resentment for his mother for prioritizing her image.

"My sister was just like me, she had to juggle her studies while raising me and my mom." He mindlessly touched the back of his shoulder again. You wonder if his sister did something to him on that body part of his.

You asked if he still resents his mother for being materialistic.

He sighed. "...A little."

You asked him if she still is like this.

"Not anymore. It took me running away for a few days to sober her up. She was still shit at managing her money- my sister had to handle that on her own, but at least she knows she was a massive idiot back then."

You asked him how old he was when he ran away.

"Fifteen." A guilty look crossed his face. "My sister freaked the fuck out. It wasn't pretty when I finally decided to show my face again." You eyed the hand that touched the same spot as before.

You asked him if she hit him before.

"More times than I can count. She uses anything and everything, but it's mostly her cha- Slippers." He laughed.

You asked if she usually hit him on the spot that he kept rubbing whenever she was mentioned.

"Oh... no." He turned around to show you what he was touching. It's a long, large raised scar with mild discoloration, but it's clearly healed a while ago. You thought he had that while fighting. "She fucking stabbed me with a kitchen knife. Only once. But it hurt like a bitch, especially when she screamed that I was her biggest burden."

You offered him words of sympathy this time. He snorted.

"She didn't mean it. Because I heard her yell the same thing when she stabbed my mom in the hand. Plus, I was only 8, it wasn't my fault everything was the way it was."

You asked him if he gets to stab her as revenge. He chuckled at your question.

"Nope. My mom did, though. I stole her money and told her boyfriends that she has some sort of contagious disease instead." He pursed his lips and stroked his chin as he thought about the past deeply. "Yeah, I held a grudge against her for a while. I kept stealing her shit and laughed in her face whenever she breaks down. I have taken dodging and blocking seriously ever since I got stabbed."

You asked when you stopped being an asshole to his sister.

"About... fourteen. When I realized that my sister was more of a parent than my mom would ever be. It was awkward as hell, trying to make up for being this devil who's been sabotaging her for years."

You asked if he ran away out of guilt. He looked at you confused.

"Why would I..." He paused and thought about it for a while.

You continued, explaining that maybe he didn't want to be a burden to his sister anymore, so he thought running away was the solution?

"I ran away because I was sick of my mom leeching off me. She was the burden."

You asked if he thought about his sister when he took off.

"Yeah, I thought about how she's going to be fine without me. But I was mostly thinking about how I'm finally free from my mom siphoning my hard earned cash into her wallet."

You asked Cyprus what made him come back. He was chewing on his bottom lip throughout this conversation, possibly to try and suppress the urge to get up and smoke.

"My sister managed to find me one day and tore me a new one. She set my ass straight and put me back into school, kept an eye on me until I turned 18. Then, she told me that I'm free to fuck off and do whatever."

You asked him what he did.

"Finished university. I had some financial backing from my mom and my sister, but I still had to work like a dog to pay off my tuition fees. Thanks to them, I'm here today. Playing with my girl's cute and squishy ass."

You realized that he was fondling your rear during the entirety of this conversation. It made you slap his hand away.

He snickered when you angrily hit him on the chest.

"Oh come on, you liked it." Cyprus brought his face close to yours, to which you pushed him away with your palms.

You said that you did something about his urge to smoke. You asked if he would let you go now.

"Nope."

Exasperated, you let out a whine. Asking what more does he want.

Cyprus puckered his lips dramatically, even to a comical extent and made loud kissy noises. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, silently telling you that he isn't content just giving you kisses on the cheeks or forehead.

You told him that you're not interested in doing such things with him. But he cuts you off mid sentence by shoving his lips against yours.

You struggled, having Cyprus's unusually long tongue muffle your screams. But it only took a couple of seconds for you to calm down and grow limp in astonishment.

He is a... really, really good kisser. You grew more and more embarrassed each second you lingered, pathetically fighting back but clearly enjoying the dance of tongues. You liked the warmth, the erotic sounds he makes without the help of his vocal chords, the slickness and his rhythm. It's oddly satisfying and enjoyable.

He smelled of his body wash, a strong, earthy masculine odor mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke.

You couldn't tell what he tasted like except for the fact that he tasted nice.

You were too distracted by his skills to notice that his hands slipped under your oversized shirt that once belonged to your boyfriend. He's kneading your breasts and buttocks, perhaps adding to the pleasure train that you're experiencing.

However, despite not being a smoker, your lung capacity is much more inferior than Cyprus's. You panicked, repeatedly whacking him on the back as you tried to get him off you so you wouldn't pass out from oxygen deprivation.

He slowly pulled away from you, retreating his lewd hands along with him, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips to his full ones. You're the only one panting in the room, Cyprus was calm and collected, yet you're there greedily gasping for air with your chest rapidly rising up and down.

"Thanks for the meal, princess. Next time, I'd like to know how it tastes down..." He brushed his fingertips against your clothed clit teasingly, making you jerk your hips away and squeeze your thighs together to process the sudden exciting stimulation. "...here. I bet it'll taste fucking delicious." Purred Cyprus with a pair of grey, bedroom eyes.

He laughed as you shied away from him. "You're funny" Cyprus cooed, tickling your sides until you audibly cackled.

He sat on the edge of the bed, yawning and stretching. He puts on his glasses as he rises from his seat, stretching his back muscles and arms even more.

"Oh and, thank you, doll." He looked back at you.

You asked what for.

"i don't feel like smoking anymore." He bent down to give you an appreciative kiss on the temple. "For now, at least." Cyprus continued.

"Come out in ten minutes." He said, walking out of the bedroom door and into the kitchen. You hear him start to gather the cooking vessels, utensils and ingredients needed for breakfast.

[princess-glassred]

Au where Butch and Sonia get married and now Henry and Eddie gotta be step siblings, and they both suffer greatly because of it.

You might think Butch and Sonia would be terrible for each other, and have nothing in common, but you'd be wrong. They are actually weirdly into each other for various reasons. Butch likes a woman who will baby him and take care of him like a mom (he's traditional in the worst way). While Sonia likes a big scary police officer as her hubby cause it means he can constantly protect Eddie when he's out and about. He day drinks, she binge eats, and they both never get off the couch or stop watching tv. The only real conflict of interest between them is parenting styles, but Butch doesn't really care to discipline a kid that isn't his and Sonia doesn't give a shit about Butch abusing Henry unless he starts doing to to Eddie.

Henry and Eddie were very angry when they found out who their parents were dating, but Henry's dad doesn't give a shit what Henry thinks and Eddie's mom insists butch will be good for Eddie. Now that Henry and Eddie live together their dynamic is very Rodrick and Greg Heffley. You'd also probably assume Henry would abuse Eddie alot now that they live together but aside from typical older brother bullshit Henry leaves him alone. He prefers to bully him outside the house, mostly because, and he would never ever admit this, he's a little terrified of Sonia (she's a fucking massive 40 year old woman, and even if he did fight back Butch would beat Henry for it later).

Speaking of beatings, Henry notes that it's odd how Butch doesn't beat Sonia like he beat his mother. It appears Butch seems aware that with Sonia he's got a good thing going, and she's also bigger than him so she could probably kick his ass if he wanted, so he doesn't hit her. On the other hand, Eddie notes that the way she coddles butch is disturbingly similar to how she coddles him, but he's DEFINETLY not gonna unpack the implications of that shit.

Henry would never admit it, but a teeny tiny part of him is kinda bummed that Sonia doesn't care about him. Maybe it was a pipe dream, but for a hot minute he considers it might be nice to have a mother. Unfortunately, if you thought Sonia was a bad mother, just wait till you see her as a step mother. Even though Henry is an abuser himself, if this was cinderella he would not doubt be the one cooking and cleaning all day. At the wedding Sonia purpofully ignores him and leaves him out of all the pictures.

Eddie and Henry have not acclimated to living together very well, Eddie particularly hates when Sonia INSISTS Eddie calls Henry his brother. Because of that he'll sometimes go in Henry's room and be like "MY mother says dinner is ready, and she asks me to come get you because you're NOT my brother.". The fact they have to share a bathroom now only makes it worse, because Henry is unsurprisingly gross as fuck. His rooms a pigstye too, and his mom forces Eddie to help Henry clean it from time to time.

That's the only chore Sonia will ever let Eddie do, Butch has tried to force Eddie to help on the farm but Sonia hates it so he just lets him get away with not working. Henry finds that super unfair, but any complaints about this makes his dad threaten him so he keeps quiet until he can pummel Eddie for it later. Family dinners are super awkward, because Henry and Eddie don't really wanna talk to each other even on good days. That's fine for their parents because they constantly are so wrapped up in whatever gross flirting they're doing at the table to notice their sons silence or vehemnt digust with them. And don't even get me started on how awkward it is when they invite their friends over.

At the end of the day though, despite how much Henry and Eddie loathe each other for many valid and not so valid reasons, and their resistance to ever accept each other as family, there are a few... odd moments here and there. Fleeting moments where their parents are acting crazy, and they lock eyes, and there is a quick flash of understanding, and possibly even a bit of sympathy.

[campbenji]

*JWCT SPOILERS* very messy first thoughts

OH BOY here we go

-ben and darius's dynamic was epic. the hug. the roadtrip scenes. "is your friend okay?" "no 😊". ben getting darius out of his isolation cabin and darius grounding him in ep2. the parallels with s3ep7. "you kiss your mother with that mouth?" i'm gonna be thinking about that scene for days. their ship is still a swim to me but please they better keep whatever the fuck they have going on in s2 because it's fucking wonderful

-i love that they took the chance to give more light to duos we didn't see much in jwcc. teamups we didn't often see like ben and sammy, THE B-DUO, and darius and sammy got very special moments here

-the amount of pictures/videos from the six years in between??? the brooklynn flashbacks??? we were so well fed

-BRAND!!!!!! i got so happy when i heard him the first episode, he's clearly been checking on his brother and i'm glad he's ok

-bowman family FEAST. brand and darius talking over the phone. the pictures on the cabin. kenji saying he calls mrs. bowman once a week and all the nice things he said about her. the whole mess between kenji and darius. "we're brothers, right?" i died dead. i love this family your honor

-sammy. she's got so much going on and we desperately need to talk about it. i'm so worried about her, she's desperately trying to avoid confronting what happened with brooklynn, with yaz and her own trauma, and then they casually dropped on us that her family isn't speaking to her and never elaborated on that?? sammy, who's love and care for her family was her biggest motivation in jwcc?? i need to know what happened because it must've been big

-mateo!! i liked him a lot, he definitely doesn't want to get into any of this mess but still dabbles around a bit to help the kids, which i respect. also i hope we get to meet his daughter hiraya, she sounds really cool

-MS MICROBANGS (or the handler, or whatever name we're calling her). what is her deal. who is she working for. she's so uncanny, literally almost robotic i need to know more about her

-brookenji over i cheered. don't take this personally i've never been a fan of this ship and a part of me knew they weren't going to last long

-the animation increased in quality so much. the scene after ben, yaz and sammy get out of the sinking van is so well done it's so pretty to look at. and the t-rex with the explosion behind her? it reminds me so much of toro in the tunnels in s1ep8, and i haven't tested this out but i feel like if you put them one next to the other the improvement would be so noticeable.

-also related to the point above: that thing when a character's eyes start filling up with tears but they don't cry just yet? 10/10. chef's fucking kiss

-sure jwct has the same tv-y7 rating as jwcc, but from minute 1 it's obvious it's not the same audience they're talking to. it's not a big change in tone, like for example adventure time/distant lands/fionna and cake, but it's there, you can tell they know it's not little kids watching anymore

-BUMPY IS HAVING A BABY BUMPY IS A MOM NOW they had me shit scared for her and then they pulled a freaking egg my heart was literally pounding. anyways i hope they get both bumpy and the egg somewhere safe and that they name the new anky "speckles" (i've gotten so attached to that name in the last 24 hours it's insane)

-YASAMMY THE QUEENS THAT YOU ARE. their relationship was stellar this season, i was scared when i saw that they were apart but their issues felt organic to their relationship and i just love how they were written in the show, they are still so in love with each other and i can't wait to see where they go next season. they're everything to me

-yeah they were apart for half the season but. benji crumbs. the egg cradle scene. kenji helping ben after he got hit with the stun gun. basically all they did was act like they knew each other but idc. we are so back.

-the brooklynn reveal was... meh?? it could've been more rewarding if they waited until s2 to reveal she's still alive, but at least i hope they take their time before reuniting her with the rest of the camp fam. also i can't believe ppl even guessed what arm she was going to lose y'all have prophetic powers or smth

-bringing daniel back to kill him the same episode was an insane move btw. i would've normally complained but it's all worth it for causing the panic attack scene in ep7. kenji's reaction felt so genuine, i'm forever in awe at how well this show writes grief and trauma

-i'm so conflicted about darius's confession. i like dinostar, but i feel like it wasn't needed for darius to be in love with brooklynn to explain the voicemails and the way he was dealing with her death. she was one of his closest friends, his grief made sense even with them being platonic. on the other hand, i love how he admitted it to kenji and the fact they didn't turn it into a huge fight between them; also, "i didn't know i could even feel that way" aroace/acespec darius truthers never lose

-maybe it's just that i need to rewatch, but i'm lost as to where they're going next season?? i know they're getting on a boat but where does that go?? what are they trying to do?? there's so much happening my head is spinning

-ben... he kind of felt like the comic relief for most of the show, the first episodes showed him as being really paranoid again and struggling with being alone, but halfway through the season they just sort of forgot about it?? idk something was off

-bring back kenji's old latin spanish va idk who this guy is but that is not kenji i can't do this. i'll survive the loss of ryan potter but i won't survive this

anyways yeah i think those are most of my uncooked thoughts, overall i really liked the season, i can't believe we got to see the kids again this is still so unreal to me

[tired-reader-writer]

Best female AoB character in your opinion?

Boy oh boy do I got Opinions™ about female characters in AoB!

So the thing is that if you plunked any given female character in front of me, my opinion is bound to be at least a little bit positive on some level. Yes, even Veronica. Yes, even Detlinde. Especially Detlinde. And many, many more.

So much so that I had a very difficult time narrowing things down to answer this ask— and unfortunately for y'all I thunk™ about it too much and was ultimately unable to narrow it down to one.

So we're getting: Charlotte, Detlinde, Hirschur, and Delia.

FOUR CHARACTERS, BABY. LET'S GO!

Charlotte

Charlotte is a very fascinating character, in my opinion. Generations' worth of grudges and torment and abuse, all crystalizing in this generation— crystalizing in her. Veronica's pain (because yes she did have a fucked up childhood, doesn't excuse any of her abuse but it does put it into perspective: it shaped her and she literally is passing the pain down) passing onto her children, Georgine's pain passing onto Sylvester, Sylvester's fears and Florencia's all reaching, reaching, reaching down until it got to her. Many people were affected by this chain reaction, undeniably, but in my opinion Charlotte is the point on the map where all these lines converge. Veronica took her brother and more than likely ostracized/abused Charlotte as she did Florencia. This made Florencia try to train her to be Aub. There must've been a touch of desperation in that choice. What does it do to a child, when they know they're being raised for a larger purpose? Their reason for existing? To know everything's laid on their shoulders? Sylvester on the flipside declared Wilfried as heir because he didn't want Charlotte to go through the pain his sister went through of being raised all her life to be Aub only to be snatched away, to be allowed to have a more hazard-free life in his eyes. But his approach, even as it stemmed from love (he loves, he loves so much, his love hurts, but this post ain't about him even as I regard him as an honorary girl bc he's hated as much as many other female characters seem to be but I digress), did not help as he is blind to what his children need (his love is deep as the ocean and twice as blind)— he projects onto Charlotte, and that… makes her feel small. Useless. Unworthy. What does it do to a child, to have your entire purpose be snatched from you? To be made to feel like your father does not see you as capable or worthy?

How do you deal with the weight of all these generational chains on your limbs?

How do you deal with the devastation of walls closing in on you?

Well, how do you?

Charlotte definitely has a complicated dynamic with her family members. Even Rozemyne. Especially Rozemyne. We'll… get to that in a bit.

Sylvester neglects her. I don't think that's up for debate. I am among his most ardent defenders (though it mostly stays in DMs since… I'm not convinced it would be received well) and I can freely say this. He neglects Charlotte. I don't think he dislikes Charlotte or prefers Wilfried or anything, but his way of expressing his love is undeniably detrimental to her well-being and antithetical to what she wants and needs. He's projecting his and Georgine's dynamic onto his children, and in trying to prevent animosity and bitterness he creates exactly that. In Charlotte's eyes, her father favors Wilfried way too much and neglects her, who has been desperate for someone, anyone, to acknowledge her.

Charlotte and Florencia as well, they have a fucked up dynamic. Florencia raised her to be pitted against Wilfried. What does that do to a child.

I understand why Florencia did it but it would've fucked Charlotte up!

She was raised for this purpose, by her mother, and said mother just stands by and lets it happen when her father takes her purpose away.

There's something fascinating to be found here. So much more fascinating than whatever AO3/Discord folk try to milk out of Rozemyne-Florencia. Charlotte's sense of obligation probably has a root somewhere in her younger years.

She's not even the center of the conversation when it comes to the subject of Sylvester's parenting. She isn't! She just isn't! Rozemyne is the focus 99% of the time!

He's neglecting her. EVERYONE is. She has nobody in her corner and yet she's expected to support everyone else.

Even though she might even resent Myne (for promising to support her and then Not Doing That) she wouldn't allow herself to feel/express it bc Myne risked her life to save hers.

The guilt! The sense of obligation/gratitude! The resentment!

I think she redirects a lot of what she might feel towards Myne onto Wilfried, a much less complicated recipient. But she still doesn't, can't, express it outwards because... well. Myne. For Myne's sake.

While Myne revels in her adoration, she doesn't care about Charlotte as a person. She has no true allies, her brother and father ignore her, and her sister looks at her without seeing her.

I keep remembering the fanbook tidbit of Charlotte being an ornament to Myne. She doesn't think Charlotte is capable of anything except looking cute and motivating her. If only the story and the fandom acknowledged that… but nope! She's just there to prop up Myne and bash Wilfried.

I don't quite think she's transmasc either. Yes, I know, I said the opposite before but it was me trying to fit in and figure out her character and after giving it much thought… her storyline deals with systemic misogyny, not gender dysphoria. She wants to be acknowledged for what she is, her capabilities, I don't think she's feeling any worse for being regarded as a girl in of itself— and I am of the opinion that it somewhat undersells her struggle and sweeps the misogyny she's facing under a rug via dressing it up with a queer headcanons. At the end of the day though, people are free to have any headcanon or opinion they so wish, and I have no authority over that. Also fyi I'm genderfluid in case someone accuses me of being transphobic.

All in all, I think she's such a fascinating character because she's the nexus at which all these lines all this hurt all this cumulative trauma from so many generations and so many directions converge into a white-hot light. Gabrielle, Leisengang, Veronica (look, she's a villain and I'll never excuse her for basically choking out an entire population, but I think she had a hard childhood that few acknowledge and more try to excuse and justify), Sylvester, Florencia, Georgine…

She had such potential. And what'd she get in canon and fics? Okay this is making me depressed let me move onto the next character on this list:

Detlinde

Ooooh boy, where do I even begin with Detlinde? She's my babygirl she's my blorbo she's everything. She is to me what Ferdinand is to the rest of the fandom. I will defend her every deed to my dying breath.

So I'll start by doing just that.

She's been neglected. Like, seriously. Do you think Georgine genuinely cares for her? Gieselfried? Do you think she has anyone who's truly on her side?

To take an excerpt from a fanbook (people regard them as like, gospel, right?):

Q: Lady Detlinde spins her wheels a lot during tea parties. Is she, by any chance, a bit thick?

A: She doesn't pay as much attention to her words and surroundings as someone her age and with her status probably should. She's not entirely to blame, though. As the third child of her duchy's third wife-and a girl, to boot-she had a half-hearted upbringing and was never expected to amount to much. That's why she's so proud about her mother becoming the first wife and why she always boasts about being Ahrensbach's next aub.

(Credits to @ming-sik for bringing me this fanbook quote, he actually read through the fanbooks at people's recommendation, so! Thank you!)

Children are always more perceptive than people think— they absolutely pick up on the fact that a particular adult doesn't really care or that they might hurt them, it's just that their defense mechanism kicks in to shield them from the fact since having your sole source of protection and guidance hate you is an earth-shattering revelation for a child to confront and acknowledge.

I've seen fics justify this neglect by saying even Georgine gave up on her because she was Just That Dumb or something like that. Which, even if you subscribe to that kind of narrative, it still doesn't make it not abuse. It still doesn't make it not neglect. No child should be abandoned simply because they did poorly in academics. Yes, this goes against AoB's (admittedly ableist) “if you're not of use then you deserve any bad thing that comes your way” theme, goes against YS's standards, but I am my own person with my fully formed morals and worldview, not a Yogurtlander with Yogurtlander morals, and I shall judge characters from my perspective.

(It is also in a similar vein that I dislike the notion that Charlotte's neglect is bad because she's more competent than Wilfried, no child under any circumstance deserves abuse or neglect, in my opinion.

People somehow stop registering abuse as abuse when it's happening to a character they don't like. Detlinde being drugged and likely assaulted is her fault and she's a whore. It's her fault she got discarded and neglected by her parents anyways. Wilfried deserves to be imprisoned in the Ivory Tower. They don't seem to think it's “real” abuse if the victim did something that “justifies” punitive narrative violence, it's just really unpleasant to see.)

With all that context in mind, I think this puts Detlinde's behavior into perspective. Being conveyed to, both explicitly and implicitly, that she is unlovable, she will never amount to anything, she's not wanted, she's not useful, all those things, she copes. She copes by loving herself because no one else would— though she spins it as “they just don't realize how awesome I am because they're too dumb for it”.

Remember what I said about children's defense mechanism kicking in to shield them from the fact since having your sole source of protection and guidance hate you is an earth-shattering revelation for a child to confront and acknowledge? Same principle here.

When people around her, all around her, constantly and routinely imply and convey that she's all these negative things, when they try to shoot down her ideas (you can't tell me her whirling dress and hair was bad, you haven't seen half the historical fashion in our world, the bling, the shine, the detail— any historical hairstyle, southeast asian headdresses of gold studded with gemstones, beetle wings intricately embroidered onto garments, the absolute flair, I find it hard to fault her for wanting something pretty, YS's fashion is so very bland), not listen to her, not guide her, all that, I think her narcissism is not only a predictable kind of trauma response/defense mechanism for her to develop but one could even argue it is virtuously defiant. Whereas Ferdinand chose to embody noble society ideals (don't try to tell me he's some deviant, he's just not), Detlinde stubbornly tries to maintain an ironclad grasp on what she feels is true to her.

I do not want to hear any of you come to tell me that Detlinde sucks, actually, because I've had to sit and watch as the entire fandom trashes on her and insults her and calls her a whore— if there's anything all three branches of the AoB fandom (reddit, discord, tumblr) agree on, it's that Detlinde deserves to be hated. I have had to live with y'all's vitriol all this time, don't bring this onto the sole post in the entire internet that sympathizes with her. Good? Good.

How am I to sympathize with a grown man over a fifteen-year-old girl who didn't even want the marriage in the first place? How am I to sympathize with a twenty-something man who is such a shitheel to her in every regard, manipulates her with the intention to have her dead eventually? She was so happy. She didn't want the marriage at first but she was so happy to have someone who seemed to appreciate her. Isn't that sad?

Detlinde is the Atlas holding up the sky of her entire self. No one else will do it for her, so she must. All alone.

She's such an interesting character to me. Too bad Kazuki hates girls/women and children and Detlinde is clearly written to be a shallow, hateable villain. And the fandom? Completely fell for that! Not a single soul besides @ming-sik and I refused to regard her as a fucking demon.

I love her because she's defiantly confident. A crystal flower in a collapsing cave. So dazzling, so beautiful because of it.

Uhhhhh how to end this section— okay let's do a quick-fire round of other shit I like about her:

She's pretty. Like super, super pretty. Shame people constantly give her shit for resembling Veronica.

She's funny. She's so fucking funny. Among the most amusing characters to me for sure.

HER BLING. I know people like to make fun of her fashion but! Her whirling fashion didn't even look bad to me! Also she has my single most favorite adult updo style. It's so elegant and pretty.

She's silly. I guess this also falls under the funny umbrella but she's such a silly goose I love her.

She's just a normal girl. She likes pretty things and plushies and is bad at school. She'd KILL it in a modern setting. I can so easily picture her at a cafe or an arcade. She wasn't born for YS she was meant to be somewhere happier!! Tragic!

She forces the AoB fandom to think about a woman at any cost. They can't get her out of their heads. So many fics exist just to bash her. Someone even made up OCs just so they could write more Detlinde bashing. Feminist queen.

Now to move onto another funny character who might have some surprising depth:

Hirschur

She's such a mood. She's my silly goose. She doesn't care about being proper or whatever. Stay unbound, queen.

Hirschur is so interesting (and endearing) to me because she isn't someone who gives a shit about societal conventions. She's quite un-noble-like for a noble lady. She's kind. She's eccentric. She would stand against the world for her students. The ones who have nowhere else to go. One would think Ferdinand would see her as his savior or a parental figure considering she did practically raise him (as he stayed in the RA all year long instead of going back home) and he just ghosts her as soon as he graduates. Hirschur takes in Raimund and Ferdinand has the audacity to get pissy about it. Dude. SHE'S JUST DOING AS SHE'S ALWAYS DONE.

She helps people! That's what she does! Hirschur spins it as for selfish reasons or bc of her whims but the truth is that she is just kind. I don't think it's a coincidence at all that both students she took under her wing as personal apprentices had no one else to turn to. She frames it as “picking out interesting/promising students” but the fact remains that she shields outcasts from the rest of the world. Heck, she tells Sylvester to keep not supporting her so that she isn't beholden to the archduke to choose who she's allowed to help! She! Doesn't give a shit! About politics!

Hirschur's isolation is way more compelling because she USES it to help people and clearly conflicts with noble expectations of faction politics. She ain't got no time for this faction politics nonsense she's got research to do and students to help!

She's actually eccentric too. She's actually an interesting freak. Her eccentricity puts her in a position where she doesn't really rely on people's approval of her or her choices. She does what she wants and if you get hissy and pissy about it then that's a you problem. She's willing to accept a massive drop in her resources (FOR research at that, she's fucking poor) because it means she doesn't have to isolate a kid with no other options.

It baffles me and honestly kinda irritates me that she's not appreciated enough, not by the characters, not by the fandom. Ppl make such a big deal about Ferdinand seeing parents go to hell and back for their children and it doing smth to him but... he's experienced that. He received that. Hirschur stood against the world for him. While he's having his pity party trying to cure Myne's amnesia, he only flashes back to his father Adelbert. Dude. STOP THINKING ABOUT THE SPERM DONOR THAT LET THE ABUSE HAPPEN, THINK ABOUT THE WOMAN THAT PROTECTED YOU. Like Ferdinand, what about all the other people in your life. There are so many people who love you, why do you not care???? In hindsight, him acting like a poor unfortunate abandoned soul in the temple is just insulting. He says all of “us” were abandoned to Myne but he wasn't abandoned. He's only in here because his brother is clumsily but genuinely trying to protect him and he ghosted his support network. Sylvester's attempt was misguided and he was trying to say “You're capable and I trust you and you have a place by my side, please stay by my side” by giving him work. He was trying to— okay I'll stop now this post isn't about Ferdinand and Sylvester it just makes me fucking mad the way Ferdinand acts. Ferdinand, my guy, you want family? WHAT ABOUT THE WOMAN THAT STOOD AGAINST THE WORLD TO MENTOR YOU?????????? Hirschur helped him well enough that he was happy and “having the time of his life” during his RA years. She worked so hard for that boy and for what.

She's just. Unappreciated.

But then again a female character having the fandom's attention might not be a good idea since somehow someone will eventually find a way to demonize her too.

Anyhow her eccentric brand of kindness is much more interesting and infinitely more compelling than Ferdinand's “hard-to-understand-kindness”. He isn't kind, he's just mean.

Hirschur never even told Ferdinand that Veronica was cutting her off for sheltering Ferdinand. Because that's the choice she made and she stands by it and that's not her student's problem. She probably didn't want him to feel guilty.

ALSO another disclaimer because I know this fandom too well: I will neither entertain nor respond to any commentary on this post that pertains to Ferdinand because I just know people are going to derail the entire conversation and center the discussion around justifying this golden boy on a post meant to spark a discussion about female characters that never get discussed at length. Do not comment or reblog saying Ferdinand isn't bad actually because blah blah blah reason. We have had to read y'all's extensive Ferdinand posting all this time. Everyone talks about Ferdinand and not about any of the female characters to the same extent. Keep that blue thing off this post. You can bear for things to not be about him for once. Okay? Okay.

Other reasons I like her:

She's funny. She's so funny. She's so entertaining.

She's adaptable and open-minded. When she saw Myne's PandaBus she went “oh! makes sense!” and immediately adapts it into something that makes sense to her. This is in contrast against Ferdinand who despite being a “genius innovator” only ever acts like a stick-in-the-mud-with-no-imagination.

I've said this before but she doesn't conform. She's proudly eccentric.

Everything people like about Ferdinand is actually true about Hirschur, in my opinion. Her kindness is disguised but she does have a heart of gold, she's ostracized and poor, she's a genius, she's unhinged and eccentric, she doesn't conform, she's even aro coded.

Again, do not try to defend Ferdinand on this post, we've had to live with people misinterpreting and bashing and insulting our faves (if they don't outright ignore them) all this time, I'm not even calling Ferdinand anything on the level of “whore” or “homewrecker”. Deal with it.

And now we move onto the next girl— last but not least is:

Delia

She's so tragic. Her entire situation is so tragic. How do people hate this girl I'm gonna cry.

First of all, she's a victim of grooming and manipulation— and she is a child. She is, what, eight years old? when she first appears.

Just wanted to establish that right off since I don't think even Myne sees her as a child.

She was being actively manipulated and used by the primary adult figures in her life, she views becoming a mistress as a good fate because at least she won't be starving and surrounded by death in the dark. She was “rescued” because she was pretty. Of course she'd cling onto that!

She doesn't understand what a “family” is because she's never had one and she was never raised with love. She asks Myne, “Are things like family really all that great? I never really understood what a family is.” and Myne replies “It's where I belong. It's the one place where I feel the most at ease.” and yeah! That's an honest and genuine answer! It gives Delia much to think about, and being raised in the Temple with no love… what else would she assume but “No matter how well I serve you, you'll end up leaving me anyway. Right, Sister Myne?”

This is a situation in which neither of them are at fault— Delia asked, so Myne answered honestly, and Delia… yeah. Why wouldn't she assume that. Why wouldn't she want to turn to the “certainty” she's familiar with, rather than give her heart to someone who'll leave her anyways? With Dirk she finally understands love, finally understands what family is, and she's so desperately terrified of losing this, the one unambiguously good thing in her life that doesn't have complicated stuff attached to it. Why wouldn't she try to protect it, protect him? Why wouldn't she want to be with him all throughout? And Ferdinand and Myne, they deliberately keep shit from her! They deceive her and make it seem like they're ripping her little brother from her for no reason, of course she feels cornered and threatened! And remember what I said about certainty vs the unknown? Thinking (well, knowing, really, because was she wrong at all?) Myne would leave her no matter what she does, thinking Myne would never trust or prioritize her (I mean, she didn't, Delia never got to exit the Temple w Myne like Fran and Gil did), and Bezewanst (the one who “saved” her) promises her that he'd not only find a better future for Dirk but also allow her to be with him? What's a young desperate child gonna do? Maybe if somebody had properly communicated with her, this wouldn't have happened.

And then she gets trapped in the place she feared anyways, never allowed to leave (she never got to leave the Temple in the first place).

And then her brother gets torn from her anyways.

They just trap her there forever. She never gets to be anywhere or go anywhere.

And I'm just… supposed to be fine with that?

Yeah, yeah, mercy, mercy, blah blah blah, I wish Myne would've planned for this to be temporary and not forever unto Delia's death. But nope! Myne never retracts her decision ever! Like hell Sylvester would've known what Delia's worst fear was, she could've just lied.

ANOTHER disclaimer: my god please do NOT come at me with justifications on why Delia's fate was fine and warranted, actually. I have seen fandom discussions and such justify it to hell and back and some even say Myne should've just let her die. If you're one of the people who think Delia deserved it, GO AWAY.

The way many people talk about her, if they talk about her at all, makes me think they genuinely do not recognize that her situation is fucked, that CSA and grooming are harmful at all. So there was once this fic I read. In the dedicated discussion space for that fic, both author and audience alike were like: “she's so dumb for wanting to be a mistress she doesn't know what reality is she just thinks it's easy glamorous work so we should traumatize her to teach her a lesson about reality but also to punish her for ‘having caused the attack on Myne in canon’ as well we're so smart” via making her watch a woman in labor. Which she of course got traumatized by.

Way to miss the point.

Way to miss the fucking point.

She's so desperate to be a mistress not because she thinks it's glamorous work but because she's terrified of being trapped in a place that neglected and starved her! It's a desperation for survival! It's a trauma response! Gods above, people are incapable of sympathizing with children (especially if they're girls) in this fandom and series.

Delia is… well. She's such a tragic character. Her wanting desperately to be saved from something that she also thinks is completely normal is… it's interesting. It's heartbreaking. I must sound like a broken record by now. Her upbringing and trauma actually informs the actions she takes, and she gets to have an effect on other characters! Her choices aren't without consequence, and that makes her interesting unlike a certain blue someone whose dickishness doesn't affect anything negatively ever. People in this fandom act as though trauma and its effects are only limited to affect dumb people. (A la someone saying trauma can't be the root of a certain character's dickishness bc it's “too sentimental” for that character, ignoring how trauma is illogical and affects you in ways you might not even notice). People insinuate she's dumb and had it coming. It's just so exhausting and disheartening to see. Thankfully, tumblr folk don't talk like that, because they don't talk about her at all. Nor about any other female character to the extent everyone talks about Ferdinand. I swear to god he's the only thing anyone ever talks about.

So yeah! Four female characters I find most compelling. Probably not anyone's pick, except Charlotte though she isn't talked about and explored in-depth to the same extent as a certain other character is. She just gets mentioned as being better than Wilfried and it's all done, no need to talk about everything else about her. I hope this post was able to give a new perspective to people who might not have considered thinking this much about these characters! Pretty please do keep negativity about them off this post, I do not need to know you want to put twenty bullets through Detlinde's body or whatever.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

"I hate how they're writing Damian in Batman #146, he can't be that dumb, he's so ooc."

I mean, they're writing him almost as if he were a literal child who wants, no, needs to believe that his father's ideals aren't as fucked up as his mother's, who blindly believes in the man whom he learnt to trust despite being raised with widely different beliefs and ideals for the majority of his so-far short life.

Almost as if Damian were a pre-teen, or young teen at most (because how old can he be here, 13? 14?) who desperately clings onto the belief, onto the hope that his father hasn't really abandoned him, because his father is Batman, and Batman always has a plan, doesn't he? Obscure, complex, but a plan nonetheless, and it (almost) always turns out fine, so Damian needs to trust him, he knows he can, he knows that Batman is safe.

Logically, everyone else is older; I think the one whose age he's closest to might be Tim here, who's about 18 as usual, I guess. But Damian is a child, he's a child who's overall relatively new to Batman's antics, and he's a child who (unfortunately) rarely saw the difference between Batman and Bruce Wayne, a child who rarely got to meet Bruce Wayne at all, if you think of it.

You (you readers, not the characters in the story - because it makes sense for them to be so lost in the plot of their world that they lose sight of things) cannot blame a child for being delusional for believing with his whole heart that his father is not an evil bastard who's attacking everyone, allies included, family included. Because again, Damian doesn't really have a clear idea of how Batman and Bruce Wayne differ, he rarely got the priviledge to be with his father, Bruce Wayne, and not with his work partner, Batman.

You (readers) cannot really tell me that you're putting the blame on a child for 'snapping out of it' so late.

Of course, everyone is free to have their opinions, and if you think that this version of Damian is ooc or whatever, it's a valid, let's agree to disagree. But from a narrative pov, you can't possibly deny that it makes sense for Damian to be acting like this. He's a child, a literal child.

Expecting him to regulate his emotions as well as his sibs do is messed up. Which, by the way, they don't. Dick is a mess but keeping it together - except for the whole "punching your father senseless" thing, but good for him, I'd have done the same there. Jason is a mess and doesn't try to hide it, Steph is baffled and Babs is exhausted. The others are nowhere to be seen (and I'd have done the same pt2). Tim's the only one with a plan that's actually somewhat good - hope he makes Bruce snap out of his fear-induced little gateaway once and for all.

I know not many are fans of this run, but honestly? I'm digging it, it's possibly one of my faves. I love the drama, love the angst, love the plot-twists, like Damian snapping out of it just for Zur to silence him? Backup Robin who grins suspiciously like Jason? Tim ditching his phone - which is ossibly the most shocking thing? I'm hyped as hell.

All of this endless yapping to say that, okay, feel free to hate this or whatever, but please be humble enough to admit that Damian is being written exactly like he should be. I get it, DCAU gave us "Damian who talks like an old man, who never smiles and doesn't understand his peers" and it's cool. He's a bit like that in the comics too. But newer comics have a (very welcome, imho) tendency to write him as 'awkward' while simultaneously keeping in mind that he's a teen. And it's the best thing ever.

I, for one, needed reassurance at Damian's age. I needed an anchor and that anchor were my parents - growing up, the dynamics shifted but it's not the point. At 13, 14, or whatever Damian's age is, you're just a child who needs reassurance, because you're changing, the world around you is changing, and you're disoriented as if lost at sea. Writing Damian like that makes sense, it's not even up for debate.

He's not ooc, and he's not dumb either.

He's just a child.

Feel free to dislike how they're writing him, feel free to dislike literally every single detail about everything, this is a free world. But please don't tell me that needing a parental figure to be there for you, and that siding with said parental figure no matter what because they're essentially all you got left (rip batfam I guess?) - is ooc for a child. Damian is a child, don't forget that.

[kujakumai]

would you like to elaborate on the "catastrophic mommy issues"? I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on that lol

Thief King is a child raised by a mass of vengeful tortured souls in the ruined basement where they all died, all of whom are in effect a stand-in for family/community/parents. They are all TKB has left, and they are highly protective of him; they seem not entirely within their right minds, not capable of competent childcare, and they give him explicit instructions on how to destroy and take over the world, which he follows enthusiastically.

I think about this a lot, like a lot a lot, and while we don't see much I think its gotta be a very tangled dynamic. When writing him I tend to use "mom issues" or general references to his mom as an emotional stand in because I think she's probably the most likely person he'd remember clearly when he needs a real face, but that's not necessary. All of Kul Elna is Mom for these purposes.

There is a lot going on here, for example:

>Kul Elna does not seem to leave the temple unless accompanied, or at very least they prefer to stay there. This means TKB probably spent a significant portion of his childhood in the same ruins and possibly the same room where he watched everyone die. Cool! Great!

>Kul Elna appears to be only partially corporeal, limited in their ability to do much besides menace, and TKB says they are "in hell" (unclear what that means). I do not think they are up to the daily tasks of feeding, bathing, or taking care of a small child. I think he probably grew up as an urchin mainly in squalor.

The closest real-life analogue to this is, probably, simply a child in the care of someone who is ill or disabled such that they cannot effectively take care of even themselves without support; so you have a situation where no one has done anything wrong, and this family loves each other very much, and the only real culprit is the society that failed them. But you're still going to end up with a kid who is not getting their needs met, is in a situation that is often stressful and sometimes scary, and that will lead to a rapid Adultification where the kid takes on the role of steward without ever having a proper childhood.

>The Zork-raising instructions were given to TKB by Kul Elna. He tells us this. I am less concerned by Kul Elna's obviously Zork-influenced plan to destroy everything than I am its effect on a 16 year old boy who loves them very much because they're all he has left in the entire world. When did they bring this up? Is it recent? Has it been an ongoing plan for years--has TKB effectively been raised on the idea that he is to be Egypt's own destined apocalypse maiden? How fucked up would that be?

Fandom is hesitant, I think, to ascribe anything malicious to Kul Elna or suggest that their relationship with TKB is sinister--which, for the record, I don't think it is, I think this fucked-up little family has nothing but love for this kid in the depths of whatever humanity they have left--because Kul Elna gets such an unjust treatment in canon it makes us incandescent. Yet the same would apply to TKB--if they want the world in ruins and him at the top, how could he even think anything different? After everything the pharaoh did to them, and to you, of the life they deprived you of? Impossible to suggest something different. You can't tell him they're wrong. What's that old softer world bit; I am a pacifist, and I will be a pacifist until I die, or someone threatens my mother.

>TKB does not need survivors guilt to be an unfailingly loyal Mama's Boy to his ghost family (Ghost's Boy?) but he's got to have it. A simultaneous immense guilt for getting out when no one else did; the immense loss of being left behind, like they all went to become this without him; the weight of being the only one left, the only one who can take revenge not only for you but for them, and if you fail then no one will remember any of their names, or yours. One chance. Avenge them or die a nobody. Don't fuck this up. It's your responsibility, like it or not, because no one else can help, and no one else can help because of what your enemies did to them, which is why you need to do it. It's almost self-justifying.

If you want me to editorialize, I don't think he actually cares much about ruling the world, nor does that goal make sense. I think in the back of his little brain he thinks that if he wins he finally gets to join them somehow.

tldr; I think TKB's relationship with whatever the hell Kul Elna has going on is way, way more complicated and nuanced than even he is consciously aware of and you can love someone very much and still fuck them up immensely (arguably a major them of ygo itself). TKB's has such catastrophic mommy issues he literally tries to end the world. We are talking literal apocalyptic mom issues. Cataclysmic.

[wrinkly-fucking-qtip]

“I kind of earned my space or whatever... just don't move your shit is all I'm saying.”

If I think about this scene longer than a minute I might just fucking McLoose it. You can count with half a finger the amount of times Ian has asked for help. You can count with two hands the amount of times Ian has avoided asking for help.

"Name a single time I've let you down."

I have always loved the Lip and Ian dynamic because of how perfectly flawed it is. There's a lot of comparison between Lip, Ian, Monica, and Frank, so let me raise you this situation. Remember how in s2 Monica wanted to do better by signing herself for more days at the psychward? Trying to get her psyche under control but Frank wanted to keep enabling her in the wrong ways? Telling her that she's alright, she doesn't need the help? Well, how about Ian reaching out to his brother for a helping hand, because he is feeling overwhelmed, needing help now more than ever, and Lip just basically denies him the help... in a somewhat patronizing way?

So it's like, two people that for different reasons, and different circumstances, are seeking that help or support, and the other person who claims to care outright attempts against it? Monica always did what she wanted, never really accepting her illness and ignoring the repercussions of it, and the effects it has on her family. And the few times she tried, Frank always intervened in heinous ways. Ian has been going through a difficult time, and the one time he asks for help, it is denied because his brother, who has claimed to never let him down, achieved a status, something that inflates his already overgrown ego. Nevermind that this is his brother, and he is visibly depressed.

Ian had goals of his own, always on the lookout to achieve. Lip didn't care about that for a while, and practically forced himself to care, only to throw it all away. And I'm sure he didn't outwardly intend for it to come across as that, but it did. Ian wanted to make something out of his life, but shit hit the roof and he didn't. And I'm glad he found a job as an EMT, he really needed that job. And he worked hard for it, he earned it. Lip fucked it all up.

This is not a Lip hate post though, he's in my top 5 favorite characters, I love that mother fucker, and I hate him as well, and his high moral that only pretends to give him BDE.

But yeah. Ian needed support. And I know that each of the Gallaghers had their own shit going on this season, I know, but there is already a recurring theme of Ian being entirely dismissed by his siblings, except for Debbie in s4 and her attempts to help him in s5. She did more than was expected of Fiona to do in those seasons, given that she is the legal guardian and all.

I am also not hating on Fiona, she is a fantastic character and stepped up for her family obviously. But by stepping up at such a young age with a lack of tools to maneuver herself through this chaos, good parenting is unobtainable.

It hurts me to see that he reached this point. All he ever fucking needed was support. S6 Ian, you have my heart and soul, and I wish you weren't hurting as much.

[mossyivy]

(If u already mentioned something about this then pls ignore this)

But the dynamic between Leon, his wife, and the kids it’s giving me — his wife’s mom loves him soo much/smothers him and same with the grandkids. While the wife’s dad…whenever they’re alone there’s that tension. That “oh, so you’re the one dating —err my daughter’s husband despite Leon and his wife being married for ever how long 😂 there’s always that dynamic lol.

Imagine they’re visiting the grandparents house. Kids excited. Violet acting like she’s not (she is), Cecilia happy and kicking her feet because she knows granny makes the best cakes/pastries, and Scotty..well whatever babies do. Babble.

While Leon is out here sweating and his wife all happy seeing her parents again.

Timeline establishing moment: they met in late '07- early '08. Got married in late '10 and conceived Violet on their honeymoon (they weren't fucking around with having babies). So if we're going by current times of '24 they've been married 14ish years...

Readers parents I'd imagine we're an old fashioned couple. Her father probably an Ex military general. Like, Leon even in the Army heard stories of this guy but never got to meet him until you brought him home to your folks. Your mother was just a homemaker raising her daughter on the words of Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem. Raising a strong woman with the love/compassion of her mother and the strong will/ambition of her father.

But yes! His wife's mother absolutely ADORES Leon. Every time they visit she immediately starts fussing at him about taking care of himself too along with the family. Probably shoves food on him like a dealer trying to sell drugs. Literally will not stop giving him kisses on his head and calling him "the perfect son she always wanted". Insists on him calling her Mom which he happily obliged. She's so happy you married a good man like Leon and gave her 3 beautiful grandbabies.

Her father... Oh God... The moment Leon hears his father-in-law mutter "Hello Leon." He's immediately like misses puff...

Leon is PETRIFIED of this man. Always calls him Sir. Even when her father calls him Leonard (literally not even his name...) The only bonuses Leon has going for him is working for the government (good pay and job security), can protect his family/army training and giving them grandkids.

But grandpa with their grandbabies... COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MAN. Super gentle and sweet, especially towards his granddaughters. Constantly slips them money. Grandma is doting over Scottie, she loves babies, and taking him off their hands.

Violet is constantly acting like she doesn't want to be there, but the second grandpa shows up it's like she's 5 again she's so excited. Cecilia too, running at top speed to throw herself at him. He slips them both $20, Cecilia excited that she got money runs back to her parents... So grandpa slips Violet another $20 cause he knows she's older. Knows the worth of money and before they leave they always get a fat check for each kids college funds their grandparents opened for them as soon as they found out they existed. (Ofc grandparents spend their retirement on their grandbabies)

Cecilia gets to go home with half a cake from grandma and frozen cookie dough because as good as a baker daddy is grandma's still the best (🙄)

Violet gets her money and a new crochet hat every visit. She has a collection of them that she keeps her pin collection stuck to.

Scott gets toys, a trunk load of toys and clothes that he can grow into. Plus a lot of advice on raising a baby... Like you two hadn't already been raising 2 girls but okay.

[cierraonline]

BILLIE IS DUMB!  WORKING LIKE A SLAVE AND NOT PAID! AND GOOSEBUMPS!

1 

“I have to burp.” 

“So burp, dummy.”

2 

“Are we ordering food?” 

“Didn’t you just have a sandwich?” 

“And?...Your point?”

3 

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?” 

“Yeah…all the time when I was younger, you remember?” 

“Oh…yeah.”

Rolling…

Whatever the Fuck This Is Podcast 

Season 1 | Episode 1 

BILLIE IS DUMB!  WORKING LIKE A SLAVE AND NOT PAID! AND GOOSEBUMPS!

“Welcome to the first episode of ‘Whatever The Fuck This Is Podcast’ where we have no idea what the fuck we are doing...but it's entertaining so keep watching,” Plotted on the couch in whatever position made them comfortable on their Nickelodeon orange 87.8-inch modern velvet upholstered luxury sofa, presented the host of this new podcast, Siren Vixen and Billie Eilish.

“You already know who we are unless you...know...you’re slow,” Billie laughs. “Not that we have anything against slow people.”

“Yeah, I mean, I am married to a slow person so no discrimination over here,” Siren chimes in, causing Billie to quickly turn her head to the right to face her co-host.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Siren shook her head, turning back to the camera.

“Did you just call me slow!?” Billie’s ocean eyes widen, releasing a scoff from her mouth in disrespect.

“It’s not your fault,” Siren turns to her wife. “You were homeschooled.”

“Bitch! So were you!” The twenty-two-year-old exclaims with a humorous smile on her face. “In fact, you were homeschooled...with me...by my mother!” Billie quickly turns back to the front camera. “Don’t let this whore manipulate you to think she’s smart, because she is as slow as me.”

“So you admit you're slow?”

“No.”

“But you just said, quote on quote, ‘she is as slow as me,’ meaning you admit that you’re slow,” Siren points, using physical evidence against her partner.

“What’s ten times ten, Siren?” Billie raised an eyebrow, bringing up a time that clearly wasn’t her wife’s brightest moment.

“What’s a grape, Billie?” The brown-skinned girl fought back.

“Anyways,” Billie sighs, turning back to the camera, repositioning the microphone in her hand. “If you’re hearing a hyena scream in the background, don’t worry it’s just Finneas and Claudia laughing. For some reason, it was like our whole family wanted to watch us.”

“It’s because without us, they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves, bunch of losers,” Siren jokingly rolls her eyes.

“We are not a bunch of losers,” Maggie chimes in from her position behind the camera. “And we just like to be around you guys.”

“All I’m hearing are just excuses,” Billie smiles at her mother.

“Alright let’s start this motherfucker!” Siren yelled out randomly, causing everyone to look at her in confusion.

“Personality #2, sweetie...let’s use our inside voices, okay,” Billie pets her as if she was a cat that needed to be coaxed.

“Eww, don’t do that,” Personality #2 brushed her wife's hand off of her. “Let’s read our horoscopes.”

“Eww,” Billie gives a stank look.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Be nice,” Maggie warns. The girls’ relationship had a love-hate dynamic, meaning they were obsessed with each other (one more than the other, Billie) but they were also each other’s bullies. Everyone who knows them really just shrugs it off, but those aka fake fans and blogs who don’t, just think they are abusive to each other. This leaves Maggie worrying about the girls being portrayed a certain way and trying to censor their dynamic a little.

“Babe, your horoscope says, ‘Some vivid, intense dreams might reveal a lot about you and your motivations, which could increase your self-awareness and make everything easier for you,’” Siren reads off the daily horoscope for Sagittarius.

“I haven’t had any dreams lately,” Billie denies.

“You literally told me you had a dream about eating a burrito before the cameras came on.”

“Yeah but that’s not like a dream, dream.”

Siren had two choices: argue or leave it alone. Because what the fuck is a dream, dream that’s not an actual dream?

“My horoscope,” Siren sighs, rolling her eyes, urging the want to debate to dissolve. “Heightened intuition and ESP could lead to some interesting conversations with others who are blown away by your insights into their thoughts, feelings, and desires. ’”

“Why is yours so much better than mine,” A playful groan comes out of Billie’s mouth.

“Because I’m better than you.”

“Stop talking to me.”

“I literally have to talk to you...we’re doing a podcast.”

“Anyways, today we will be doing a storytime on how Siren started music, which you guys would’ve known but Amazon cut her scenes out of the documentary.”

“They said I was destructive...like what the fuck does that mean?”

“Bro, you literally were cursing every 3 seconds, raged out multiple times, and punched that son of a bitch,” Travis, Siren’s older brother and manager, spoke up from behind the camera.

“And they made the right decision.”

“Absolutely,” Billie nods her head.

“I was a wild child who just needed to sit the fuck down somewhere. But I’ll tell the story...well, what I could remember.....”

~~~

S I R E N.....

I get those goosebumps every time

Yeah, you come around, yeah

"Real 92.3, It's Siren Vixen and her 'Goosebumps' requested to play for the hundredth time today," Big Boy's Neighborhood host Big Boy introduces the song that's been playing all day on every hip hop station.

You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine

"Dude, 'Goosebumps' playing on every station ," Travis, my older brother, turns the dial of the radio in his car in a smooth motion, revealing that in fact, my song was actually currently playing on every hip hop music station.

"I wish something else would play," I groan, slightly banging my head against the passenger side window, watching the scenery warp from a clear image to a blur. "I'm tired of hearing my voice."

"Well, get used to it," Travis tells me from his self-appointed position as my manager.

"Why?" I move my eyes to my phone that vibrates in my hand. "I thought this was a one-time thing. It was supposed to be a joke, releasing that song on SoundCloud."

"Siren, the second you hit top artist on SoundCloud in a week over X and Ski's release is when this stopped being a joke. Your dope-ass song is playing on every radio station a month later."

"What's the difference from when basically everyone had my pictures on their phones and this?" Back when everyone was on Tumblr, I had a page called mydadisapornstar that went viral because of my looks and then my reveal of my diagnosis for Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), aka multiple personality disorder, aka like the movie SPLIT...but you know, less...creepy?

"This music shit is going to go somewhere," Travis shakes his head, making a right turn into our neighborhood, Highland Park.

Worried 'bout those comments, I'm way too numb, yeah

"Yeah, and how do you know?" I smirk at the ridiculous thought that doing music was just going to change my life. Like, come on! I only did the song because Billie was complaining that songwriting, recording, and mastering were hard. Now, if it was regular me (Personality #1), I wouldn't have said shit, but Personality #2 is a cocky son of a bitch who just had to open her mouth. And that turned into a challenge where Finneas made a random instrumental, and I had to write and do vocals. The song was done, and it was absolute trash, but everybody in the O'Connell and Vixen households thought otherwise. So, to prove to them it was a trash song, I posted it on my Tumblr page which someone reposted on SoundCloud and tagged me in. And now, a month later, people have taken this a little too far.

"Bro!! Don't make me beat your ass," Travis glares at me, causing me to laugh. "You have a music deal literally sitting on your desk from ACID & Interscope Music that you using as a fucking coaster for your Arizona. We are packing to go on tour with your girlfriend all over the fucking world. Do I also need to mention, that there's literally a fucking cameraman in my backseat recording for y'all two's documentary?!" With furrowed eyebrows, I quickly turn to the back and see a man with a medium-sized camera in his hand recording me and my brother.

"When the fuck did he get in the car?" I turn back to Travis in confusion.

"Personality #3 was here and kept weirdly flirting with him," Travis answers my question nonchalantly. This was a frequent thing in my life with having a fucked-up brain. I live my life being a host for two other personalities, Personality #2, aka Daddy, is this badass cocky son of a bitch vampire anime girl with severe anger issues, aka diagnosed with IED. Personality #3, aka Mommy, is the lesbian hentai addict and hypersexual who craves influential power to make others do what she wants...with consent. And then you have me, Personality #1, aka the daughter, the sixteen-year-old lab experiment who has no sense of reality, aka derealization disorder, born without a mother...I'm a surrogate baby. Permanent ink and piercings all over my body...because I'm a pussy who's too scared to actually bring a blade to my body.

"Sorry," I apologize to the cameraman, who waves me off in understanding? I don't know. All I know is he waved it off.

It's way too dumb, yeah

"Welcome to our crib," Travis pulls his blood rich-red Dodge Charger into the driveway of our home next to our dad's parked dark gray Dodge Charger.

"We don't really live here because we would never tell random people where we live and how to get to our home as if people don't know how to find landmarks," I sarcastically smile into the camera. "Also, did I mention I am not PG-friendly? Like, I swear like a sailor, I smoke weed pens almost everywhere, and I got my fashion sense from this one grunge hentai series character...meaning my clothes aren't appropriate for my age. So, to the editors of this documentary, I'm sorry for all the censoring you are about to be doing."

"Your parts of the documentary are uncensored and unfiltered," the cameraman speaks up for the first time.

"You can talk?" I look at him with wide eyes in shock. "Like deadass, since you've been in the car, you have not spoken. Are you allowed to?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Jeff Bezos, don't fire him, he's wonderful at his job," I look into the camera until I remember something. "So what? y'all are just taking raw cuts from me...?" A smirk appears on my lips. "I feel so bad for y'all. Y'all are going to regret this."

"Get the fuck out of my car," Travis unprovokingly pushes me, causing me to almost hit my head on the window.

"Only pussies push little girls," I shove him back, turning around to get out of the car.

"Go cry to your mom, bitch."

"Why would you say that to me?" My tone lowers, with a pout on my lip. "You know I don't have a mom. Why are you being momist to me?"

"I don't have a mother either," Travis stops walking to look at me. Just imagine two people standing outside, just staring at each other, making no movement or blinking whatsoever. Then imagine from a distance of five steps is a man in all black recording while he's probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with us.

"Damn, so you never had titty milk?"

"Nah, I have. I got hoes for that," Travis bursts out in laughter, causing me to laugh too until I realize what he said.

"You fucking pregnant bitches?" I tilt my head. Let me tell you, Mr. Cameraman could not keep his composure and choked on his laughter. I should really get his name, but Mr. Cameraman sounds cool, lowkey.

"Yoo, what the fuck are y'all doing outside?!" A loud, belligerent voice enters the air, causing us to look at the source.

"That's my father, he was a pornstar!" I smile at the camera. "He's retired though...sorry ladies or guys if you're a cuckold. I don't discriminate. "Dad, tell them about your couch audition experience!"

"Shut the fuck up, Siren, and get next door!" The Italian ex-pornstar now porn film writer shouts at me, pointing to the next house over, the O'Connells' home. Aka my boo's house.

"He loves me, I promise," I turn back to the camera. "Dad, you have to be nice to me or they're going to think you don't love me." I walk over to my father and give him a hug, like I always do when I see him. I'm a daddy's girl. And a mommy's girl if you know what I mean...wink wink.

"Because I don't," He retorts in a serious tone. In his defense, his joking tone is serious; you just gotta know the vibe to know he's joking. "You're a pain in the ass sometimes," He brushes down my straight hair with his left hand.

"You love it." I smiled. Sometimes I just like being embraced by my Dad. It's comforting, especially after an episode.

"Okay, come on, the reps and management are next door," my dad turns us in the direction of my second family home with Mr. Cameraman following. See, my father and brother would knock and just wait for someone to answer...Me? I just walk in and make my presence known so I don't walk in on Mama Maggie and Papa Patrick doing the "tango" again.

"I'm home!" I take off my outside shoes and slip on my Pokémon slippers. Outside shoes inside the house are just one of my pet peeves, which is weird since outside clothes on the bed aren't, unless you were fucking active outside and now you're dirty, sweaty, and smell like expired milk. Or if you were sitting on a bus or train.

"They're in Finneas's room waiting for you," Maggie walks out of the kitchen, giving me a hug. I might've not had a traditional mom, but I always had a mom and her name is Maggie Baird, or Casting Director #2 if you're nasty...cause you know...she was on F.R.I.E.N.D.S....as casting director #2.

"First, sign the deal," my father holds out a short stack of papers towards me along with a pen. "You're done being difficult. Negotiation is done, and everything you unrealistically wanted you got. All you have to do is sign."

"100% creative control over music?"

"And your image."

"Will I get to be with Billie?"

"We're prepared to work in a duo formation," Maggie chimes in, still having her arms around me. "You guys will do individual and group interviews, performances and tour together.."

"Travis gets to be my manager?" From what I was told, if you don't have a manager then the label will give you one, but like why the fuck would I trust them to get me a manager, aka a stranger I don't even know? Like, do you even love your mama? But this was a separate deal I had with my dad. I wanted my brother so I can have someone I trust and know will look after me. Plus, besides my dad, Travis is the only one who really knows how to deal with my disorders to the full extent, and that means from feeling low to feeling explosive. But just between you and me, it's also because Travis is my smoking buddy ... .Because he buys...Free weed pens just hits better.

"Trial run..." My dad signs from previous conversations. It's just him being paranoid that there will be a time where Travis won't know what to do if Personality #2's IED episodes are to happen. For my dad, I'm guessing it's like raising four kids and having three daughters, so he had to learn how to approach and parent each of my personalities since we all have equal time being at the surface. So with me, Personality #1, my dad is laid back and chill. With Personality #2, he's more militant, which was kind of easy for him since he used to be a brat tamer. Personality #3 brings out more of his protective side. "But you need to know this isn't a baseball game; there's no missing until strike out. This is serious and can turn dangerous quickly."

"We know," me and Travis say in sync.

"Signing bonus?" I went back to my list of demands I was jokingly asking for, but they in fact took it seriously...but they don't need to know that.

"3.5 million."

"I thought I asked for 5?" I pouted.

"You're a flight risk," Travis speaks up, remembering what was talked about at the last negotiation meeting. "They want to know if your existence in the music industry is a wave or if you're a permanent figure. Which means you have to be consistent."

"Ugh, I hate consistency," I rolled my eyes.

~~~

“I wish everyone could have watched your part of the documentary,” Billie comments. “When the documentary came out and everyone watched it as a viewer, it was like this heartfelt ‘get to know Billie Eilish the teenager and singer’ movie. But I just hate how they cut your part out, so it made it seem like I was going through this new stage of my life and depression by myself with no help. And that’s not how it was. With the person who shall not be named, depression, feeling like I have no friends, you were there for it all and did things to make me feel better. I love the film, but I just hate that you don’t get enough credit because during our last years of being teenagers, you were dealing with making your own music even though you didn’t want to make music, touring, and dealing with my problems.”

“Filming and doing the documentary was weird, but I felt like that could’ve been the place where everyone got to know me and my other personalities. But watching the documentary and seeing not even one of my scenes was mind-blowing because it’s like, what the fuck have I been doing for the past two to three years then? Why force me to film some dark shit but not show it or at least tell me when it wasn’t making the final cut and this was now a Billie Eilish film.”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Billie agrees.

“She didn’t even get paid for it,” Travis spoke up.

“Wait! What?” Billie sat up from her position, looking back and forth between Siren and Travis with eyes that read shock. “You didn’t get paid for doing the film?”

“Nope!” She pops the ‘p.’ “They were like, since it didn’t make the final cut, there’s no need to pay me.”

“That’s so not okay.”

“It’s whatever,” Siren shrugged. “But I have the film, so I might upload it one day.”

“You should,” Billie nods her head in strong agreement.

“Well, that’s all we have for today’s video,” Siren turns to the camera.

“Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe,” Billie smiles.

“And we’ll see you next week.”

| welcome to the book I write & edit when high | 

𝓡𝓘𝓟 𝓐𝓝𝓖𝓤𝓢 𝓒𝓛𝓞𝓤𝓓 

July 10, 1998 - July 31, 2023 

𝑒𝓊𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶: 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉. 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝐹𝑒𝓏. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅, 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝑜𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃.

[antirepurp]

i can't stop jotaro from living in my head rent-free his character has so many goddamn layers to it. like you're telling me that the shonen protagonist learns about the value of teamwork, makes allies and befriends them, relies on their unique abilities, and immediately recesses on that development after his best friend and important mentor died because they were involved in a fight that was not theirs to face and revolved around jotaro and his family. you give us an edgelord teenager with very few friends and a ton of age appropriate angst. you give him people who accept him and appreciate him and cherish them the way he is, people who help with a terrifying new ability he's gained that they're more familiar with, people who Want To Help Him just because they care about him. you give him two or so months of ups and downs during which he can bond with these people, get to know them, face horrors and terrors and the unknown over and over again and make it out somehow, make sure that everyone makes it out somehow.

and at the very end jotaro is not able to save everyone. he can't repay that care and kindness in the moment where it matters the most.

it doesn't end there either, because he survives and he lives and has to continue living, move on with his life after everything he went through. he has to go on with the knowledge that his stand is terrifyingly similar to that of the man he killed with his own hands, the man who murdered his friends. he has to move on and has barely anyone to talk to about these things because his best friend is gone and his grandfather lives in the states and his mother wasn't there and the one friend who made it lives very far away as well. he pursues a normal career to the extend he can and lets his own stand rot and rust because he wants to go back to the normalcy he was robbed of when he was 17, normalcy he's never going to have for as long as he lives.

for whatever reason he winds up with a daughter. a child he runs away from when he realizes the kinds of things that haunt the blood that flows in her veins, the kind of hurt his presence could bring into her life, unaware of the pain he caused by leaving her behind. a twisted sense of caring that demands he removes himself from the lives of anyone who means anything to him, because all he does is spread a plague he never asked to deal with.

and the one thing that really gets to me atm is that despite everything, despite everything they went through during stone ocean, jolyne and jotaro never truly reconcile. they never get to talk through the problems jotaro himself piled onto their relationship with his actions. jolyne may not be as angry at him in the end, and jotaro does come to her aid obviously, but the end is wrapped up in emotions and feelings and adrenaline and everything-fucking-else that's going on. there's no time to truly address the complicated hurt in their relationship, and that hurt is erased along with the universe. i think there's even a possibility that when everything ended, jotaro wasn't certain if jolyne had forgiven him. and it's very possible that she hadn't, not truly, not in a sound mindset that wasn't clouded by bloodloss and a violent survival instinct.

god i love characters that are so fucking complicated and have such fucking complex relationship dynamics with other equally complex characters im losing my mind