#anyway let this post flop i deserve it

[revengebian]

ok so this post is gonna be soooo self indulgent, it's about my favorite show revolutionary girl utena. it's pretty niche, but there's a fandom for it on tumblr, and i love the theories i see circulating here but the thing that irks me is that no one actually "headcanons" the main character utena as a girl. she's always non binary and/or trans masc. utena is like, the most insane butch lesbian representation you can ever get in a 90s shoujo, and one of the reason i dislike these trans headcanons is i guess selfish cuz i relate to utena so much and i hate the pipeline of gnc girls being trans, but also because the show is literally ABOUT dismantling the system of gender + patriarchy.

without spoiling (because i highly encourage people to watch it, this show rocks) utena's conflict is that she wants to be seen as a prince who saves other girls, but because she is a girl herself in a super sexist society, no one takes her seriously. she wants to be a prince but, as the show progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that becoming a prince doesn't actually help the people she cares about, because the system she's fighting is built on the idea that people can be princes at all. i think it's a really good allegory for how gender in modern society works; despite saying they want to abolish it, people just swap different boxes on and off.

unfortunately i can't make a full analysis on this show because it would require me spoiling the end, which i just can't do. it's okay though because im just glad i got some of this off my chest; i feel strongly enough about this show to talk about it on this blog where im still not sure how much of myself i want to express.

if you're a rad fem please watch revolutionary girl utena and tell me what you think lol

[ddenji]

okay i think this is about to be an unpopular opinion but…. these two are like 2 sides of the same coin to me. beyond the shared public safety allegiance, they both violate denji's autonomy (yoshida stripping him to his underwear, tying him up, and threating his family in chapter 132 vs fumiko assaulting him in the movie theater in chapter 136) and work against his own best interest for the sake of the government. however, while they both take action in trying to force denji to do what they want, fumiko takes a more directly active role in the space of the fanatic who can't see/ doesnt care about the human behind her idol, whereas yoshida takes the more passive role of the government drone who wont act to protect the human if it means going against orders. in previous chapters, fumiko actively runs away from denji, leaving him to fight for himself, while yoshida passively tells denji that he isnt allowed to protect himself, putting him in harms way in his own right (and there is still the underlying threat of violence there if he tries to protect himself). even in the panels from this chapter, we see fumiko being active about her disregard for denji's well being by asking for little pieces of him, where yoshida is more passive in his disregard of the plan to dismember denji with a simple "yeah" answer. i know that they also have their differences, but i just think that they share intentional similarities (that other characters, particularly in the chainsaw man church, also share!!) that overall lead to denji getting hurt.

[yellowloid]

(forbidden) love, secrets, memories and regrets in am's 'tranquility base hotel and casino'

[crazyco0tz]

I’m working on a new way to submit nsfw requests but until then I’ll gladly take this request^

{ stray kids favorite reward }

Hyung!line

Warnings: soft smut, pegging, dom!reader, fem!reader

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

*chan

Simple enough his favorite reward is def getting to cum. he loves his rewards to be simple, once he’s finally getting to cum he needs you to hold him through it whispering about how much he deserves it! (If he actually does deserve it)

If it’s been a long time since hes cum he’ll make sure he’s been his best then he gathers up the courage to ask; “Can you pleaseeeeeee make me cum miss? It’s been days…”

Very few times you pity his pathetic begs enough to actually let him but most of the time you tell him off for being oh so needy

in fact all you need to do is place your hand on top of his clothed dick and he does all the rest

But he still needs to hear reassurance from your silky voice. “So good for me” “can’t hold it anymore baby?” “You deserved every bit of this” ect ect.

He eats up every “good boy” and “I’m so proud of you” like candy~ he could definitely cum untouched just by hearing your voice.

*minho

He also likes it plain, he has made it very clear that his all time favorite reward is kisses, EVERYWHERE

after you both finish he loves being called a good boy while he flops over so you can kiss all up him back, bonus points if you have plumping gloss on, he loves the tingling feelings it really makes him relaxed especially after all the dirty things you just did to him

Sometimes hes just so fucked out that he just lays there with a smile on his face while he feels your lips pecking on every hickey and scratch you gave him. PAMPER HIMM TOO!!

Whether it be wet sloppy kissed or soft pecks he just loves to have your lips all over his body especially his face. Calling him your pretty doll while smothering his face with kisses after he made such a mess on the bed is just perfect.

*changbin

I feel like he would be on his hands and knees begging just for you to use a vibrater on him. I can just imagine him about to cum all over your hand before pulling your hand away and pleading. “No!! N-no… I wanna cum with the vibrater today.. please?” How could you say no?

He also goes crazy for remote controlled vibraters too, his favorite sensation controlled by you? He LOVES it

But just because it’s a reward doesn’t mean you can’t be a tease. “I’ll bet I can make you cum with this in under 10 seconds binnie~” his flushed cheeks didn’t deplete his confidence.

“HA! I’ll bet I can lasted more that 40 se-. AHH~ F-FUH.. Y/NNIE!” The second the wand touched his tip he was practically screaming in under 10 seconds. And he loves every second of it.

Hyunjin

Lingerie+pegging he wants to feel pretty and what better way to make him feel like a princess then to put him in some cute baby blue stockings and fuck his brains out. unlike the others he’s humble and never asked for a reward he always waits and when it does arrive it’s so worth it

“Aw arent You pretty?” You coo, he giggled in excitement  “I’m v-very pretty!” You peck his cheek before leaning into his ear “so pretty I think you deserve a little something~” he instantly hops up and runs to your shared room

His favorite position is when you hook both of his legs over your shoulders so you can hit his special spot every time.

He also seems like a “fuck me until I can’t speak” kinda guy, which you gladly do. Only 5 minutes in all that can come out of his mouth is “AHH~ AH~ AHHH~ M-MOR..MORE~” while he clutches his pretty lingerie mini skirt in his hands

But he’s always so sad that he gets cum all over his fancy lingerie by the end of it, but you can always make him feel better by stripping it off and fucking him again🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My first nsfw post LETS GO

Anyways pt.2 coming soon obvvv

Bye sweeties😮‍💨😮‍💨

[stardustcatcher]

Pretty Boy

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors DNI), swearing, needy subby-ish josh, dry humping, praise, fluff, josh being a lil sad (bc that indeed needs a warning), biting? like once, a lot of pet names cause i'm a slut for that, uhh i don't think there's anything else but let me know if i missed anything.

AN: babby posts writing?!? it's a christmas miracle! this has been in my drafts for literally ever but i kinda revised it and decided why the fuck not. idk if i'm really happy with it but i wanted to get something posted and i'm deep in josh land so this is what happened. heavily inspired by the need i have for josh to be in my lap. it's not my best and it's short but i hope you all enjoy it anyway :)

this is also my first time writing in second person and it wasn't as hard as i thought so maybe all my fics will be like that from now on, but with my inconsistency, who knows  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

taglist

You were sitting on the couch, glass of wine in hand reading your favorite book for the umpteenth time when you heard the front door slam. The jingling of keys were heard as they were set on the little hook by the door and you peeked over to where your beautiful lover stood, toeing off his shoes with a heavy sigh. Josh looked absolutely drained, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and shoulders tight with an unknown tension. Nevertheless, the sight of him made you smile. He’d been so busy recently, putting the finishing touches on the band’s newest album, and it felt like he hadn’t been home in ages. 

Josh trudged over to where you sat on the couch, his lips pursed in a slight pout as he bent down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and then planted a chaste peck on your lips. “Hey, mama,” he said with a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes and it seemed forced. 

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you asked, handing him the glass of wine knowing that he could probably use it. He sighed with a roll of his eyes and took a gulp of the red in the glass. 

“Don’t wanna talk about work,” he shook his head, running a hand down his tired face. You nodded, knowing that wasn’t true. Josh always said he didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him, but in fifteen minutes or less, he’d be venting. 

“Okay, we don’t have to talk. But come sit with me, I miss you,” you shut your book, laying it on the coffee table before patting the space beside you. Josh flopped down on the cushion, sinking into the softness before you cuddled up to his side, head on his chest and arm thrown around his waist. His hand made its way into your hair, smoothing it over and pressing his fingers lightly into your scalp. His lips left a kiss on your temple as you listened to the song of his heartbeat, his body heat warming you up. 

“How was your day? Hope it was better than mine,” he whispered, lips on your forehead. 

“Boring without you,” you answered. “I put those shelves up in the bedroom, did the laundry, and cleaned up the kitchen. Just stuff that needed to get done,” you shrugged and felt his chest rumble with a small laugh. 

“What a pretty little homemaker you are,” he chuckled.

“Shut up,” you laughed along with him, shoving his side playfully. “I’m happy you're home.”

“I’m happy to be home,” he replied with a hum. “Today was just not my day. Sam was extra late today and cranky, we found out that one of the takes for a song we recorded was almost completely unusable, Jake was being an ass, I didn’t get to eat lunch, and just to top it all off, I got a fucking flat tire on the way home,” Josh ranted, face becoming redder with each inconvenience he recalled. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you pouted at him, genuinely upset that he had such a bad day. Josh was the sweetest, kindest man you’d ever met. He deserved nothing but the most wonderful days. “I can’t do much but would a cuddle help?” you asked hopefully, pushing yourself away from him and opening your arms welcomingly. Josh smiled, the first real one you’d seen, his pearly white perfect teeth on display, looking just a little bit happier at the suggestion. 

“A cuddle always helps,” he grinned. You readjusted yourself in your seat, lifting the blanket up with one hand and patting your lap with the other. 

Josh got up before plopping himself down in your lap, straddling you with a leg on the side of each hip. His head burrowed into your neck as you laid the blanket back over the both of you. Your left hand moved to his curls, raking your fingers through them while your right hand slid under the back of his shirt, nails training up and down his spine. He wrapped himself around you like a koala, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, taking slow deep breaths and calming himself. 

With his incessant need for constant physical touch, you’d found out early in your relationship that this was the ideal position for Josh to get what he needed to ground himself and calm down. Everyone needed to be held sometimes, and he was no exception. His arm tenderly wrapped around your waist as he gave you a squeeze, his breath warm and soothing against your neck. “Is there anything else on your mind, lover?” you asked, leaning your cheek against his head as you continued to rub his back. 

“Just miss you, I guess,” he mumbled into your skin. “Feels like forever since we’ve been like this. Miss holding you, being held by you. Miss your kisses, touching you, loving on you. Just miss you.”

“I miss you too, Josh,” you sighed, feeling tears well in your eyes at the thought of him feeling so starved for attention and affection and love. “But we’re here now, and you’re off for the next few days, aren’t you?”

He nodded, hair tickling your face. “Yeah, wanna spend them just like this,” he hummed, completely and utterly content. 

After a few moments he lifted his head, moving to rest his forehead against yours. His lips gently pressed into yours  and he melted against you even more, your hands moving to hold his hips. Your lips melded together as he poured all his love into you with a kiss that said I love you, I miss you, I need you. 

Josh deepened the kiss as his mouth parted, a tiny high pitched whine escaping his throat. His hands moved from behind you to tug at the bottom of your shirt. “Want it off,” he muttered against your lips. You smiled before pulling back, tugging your shirt off carelessly and tossing it behind you as he did the same with his own. He groaned at the sight of your naked chest and you could feel him grow hard in his pants from where he sat in your lap. “You’re so beautiful, mama,” Josh whispered before reconnecting your lips, his tongue immediately tangling with yours in a sloppy kiss. You swallowed the wanton moans and sighs that left him, gulping them down greedily as his hips began to move against you on their own accord. “Fuck,” he shuddered when his hips caught a particularly good spot.

“Feel good, sweet boy?” you asked, caressing his cheek with your thumb. His face was flushed and his eyes were clazed over with lust and love and pleasure. “It’s been so long, you must be real pent up, huh?”

“Yeah,” his breath hitched and eyes clenched shut as he ground his covered c ock against your lower stomach. “I had plans, y’know. Soon as I got home, was gonna make you cum on my tongue, then my fingers. Then I was going to fuck you, slow and sweet, just like you deserve.”

“We can still do all that, baby,” you kissed his neck, sucking and biting in all the places you knew drove him crazy. “But you deserve this, and you look so fucking pretty like this, Joshua.”

He keened high in his throat, the noise needy as his hands grappled at your sides, squeezing the soft flesh. “Say that again, please?”

“You like being called pretty, baby?” you whispered into his ear as his head dropped to your shoulder, his hips grinding faster against you now. “You wanna be my pretty good boy?”

“Yes,” he groaned, biting lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Gonna be so good for you, promise.”

“You already are, baby,” you said, and he was. Josh was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen, all the time. When he was on stage performing for thousands, when he was concentrating with his tongue poking between his lips, when he was sitting as still as he possibly could while getting his rhinestones applied, but he was especially pretty like this when he was sat on your lap, grinding his hips back and forth feverishly chasing that high that was building in the pit of his stomach. You kissed his bare shoulder, loving the feeling of his naked chest pressed against yours, how his hips rutted into you without care, how his neck and chest and ears were all blushed pretty pink. Your hands held his hips firmly, helping guide his movements, to grind him down on you just a little bit harder. “You’re always so good for me, Josh. So good to me. No one has ever loved me like you do, cared for me like you do, fucked me like to do, made me cum like you do. My best boy, the sweetest boy in the world, and you’re all mine. Aren’t you?”

“All yours, all fucking yours,” he gasped and lifted his head and threw it back, an expression of pure bliss etched onto his god-like face. 

“God, I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Do you know how many people would kill to see you like this and I get it all the time, anytime I want,” you mouthed at his collar bones and moved one hand from his hip to cup the bulge in his pants. “You’re so hard, pretty boy. This must hurt. You wanna cum?”

“So bad,” he nodded, his back arching while he ground into the palm of your hand. You could almost feel him throb through his pants. 

“Go ahead, cum for me,” you leaned up to capture his lips once more. “Just like this. I wanna see it.”

“But my pants,” he whined but didn’t stop or slow his movements. 

“I don’t care, and I don’t think you do either. Now c’mon, make a mess, pretty boy.”

A broken moan clawed from the deep within his chest as his hips stuttered against you and a warm wet spot blossomed on the front of his pants, darkening the fabric. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried before slowing the movement of his hips gradually, riding out his high. 

When it finally died down, he slumped forward and pressed a row of kisses across your shoulder, breaths coming out in heavy pants. “Feel better?” you asked, hand tangling in his hair once more. 

“So much,” he smiled with an airy, fucked out giggle. “Thank you, darling. I needed that so bad, you have no idea.”

“Anything for my pretty boy,” you ran a hand over his warm face before tapping his hip. “Now get up and I’ll run us a bath, then we can order-in dinner. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven.”

=

taglist: @peachpitpearls @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature

[apopcornkernel]

dick and jason have so many cool parallels especially if jason is a villain it actually makes their relationship more interesting and meaningful. the concept of brothers in blood is so great!!! please tell what you wish was different about this story!!!

hi anon!! thank you for sending me the ask like i begged in that post shfdjshkf

compulsory disclaimer: i like working within the confines of the text, when they aren’t rooted in misconceptions of the characters in the first place. i think pre-flashpoint pre-morrison jason deserves the same treatment and so does dick's view of jason considering all the other extenuating circumstances

ANYWAYS, my main issue with brothers in blood is that jason doesn't seem to have a plan like at ALL. he just shows up and starts killing people...? i i believe that dick's jason event was not fully capitalized on and that jason's character suffers for it. like he never really comes off as a fully threatening rogue, dangerous and cunning in his own right; his main schtick is "needless" violence and that's really it 😭

unlike with bruce and mia, for bruce jason literally engineered a drug coup, he ran circles around batman and taunted him with hints and clues slowly until the revelation of his return (after which bruce goes on a hunt for evidence himself to see if it's true). jason then maneuvered him into an impossible situation where he had to choose between letting jason kill the joker or killing jason to stop him from doing it, wherein jason not only bared his soul and anger and hurt but also pushed bruce to do the same. and when pushed to make the final decision, bruce is panicking. he's shaking, he can't think straight. and when he hits falsely he's completely distraught and i know that it haunts him.

and i think that's the type of psychological anguish jason should always be inflicting onto his opponents!!!! after mia's encounter with jason, she was like this:

and that's after jason dug up her entire history and taunted her about it. and then he blew up her high school.

and guess what happened right before OYL, right before brothers in blood... yeah. devin grayson's trauma speedrun arc which culminated in the entire city of bludhaven being leveled by chemo

i honestly think that jason Would go there. and i think it would've made for a more intense fight, coupled with the resentment dick already displays in the comic! and i think it's a damn shame that brothers in blood flopped in execution when there was a lot of potential in its concept and setup :/

that's also why i don't like teen titans #29. jason comes off as just another jealous guy taking out his daddy issues on a teenager with no thought or regard for anything else but violence. his only semblance of a plan is in incapacitating the titans, and after that he doesn't really think anymore? jason's also unable to get a reaction from tim, like i said. jason is screaming out his feelings and going U REALLY THINK U COULD REPLACE ME???? meanwhile tim is just like: "mm yeah im better than you idgaf". it's really unsatisfying. i expected better from jason and in fact i do not think that he would be emotionally unstable enough to be this careless with tim. his biggest turmoil lies with bruce and even with BRUCE he's cunning. so,,, yeah

[safetycar-restart]

Soft night! I'm down (welcome back btw)

Lando post Vegas. Just got him back from the hospital after his check-up, that goofy smile still on his face cos the hospital knows he's good for the bill, so he's on the strong, expensive pain meds!

They've made him all sleepy, but also horny but he can't do anything about it cos again. Too sleepy! Just a whiny, frustrated mess! 🐇

I… I think whiney, desperate but too tired to help themselves boys are my new kink… this is entirely fault. Anyway, let’s discuss!!

Of course when he first gets taken to the hospital he’s so panicked and he has no idea what to do. He’s so scared that he might have a serious injury. He’s in a lot of pain too, so they give him plenty of pain meds before they check him out.

He’s an anxious mess until he hears the results of the tests, keeping a death grip on your hand and shaking a little.

But once hears that it’s all fine and he actually starts to accept that? Yeah he becomes so loopy!! He starts giggling at absolutely everything at first, and then he’s demanded cuddles, making grabby hands for you because you’re not in the bed with him and that’s absolutely unacceptable. He requires cuddles!! Now!!

He enters the tired, horny phase about halfway through the drive back to the hotel. You’re in the backseat with him, being driven by someone from mclaren and he’s trying his level best to get his hand under your shirt while he’s curled up against you. Only he’s not very coordinated at that moment so it’s more like hes just batting your shirt and whining.

You roll your eyes at his antics but still keep him close, knowing that if you pushing him away he’ll be whining much much louder.

Luckily the car ride ends before Lando figures out how to get a hand under your shirt and you quickly take him up to the hotel room, thanking the mclaren staff and bidding them goodnight, promising that you’ll take good care of Lando (all while Lando is hugging you from behind and trying to drag you back into the hotel room).

Once the door has closed and he’s satisfied that you can’t leave (he seems to have forgotten that doors can be opened again), he flops face down on the bed. He whines a little and then turns onto his side and curls up, lifting a hand up to you to indicate you must come join him.

That’s when you notice he’s hard, and is halfheartedly canting his hips like he’s trying to get friction. He looks down at his crotch then back at you and whines, clearly frustrated but for some reason unable to help himself out of this dilemma.

You consider refusing to help him, but then you think about how he’s clearly feeling tired and frustrated and probably still a little sore from the crash and anxious from the hospital trip and he just…. He deserves to feel good.

So he gets a sleepy hand job in your arms where he hides against your chest and clings to you and comes embarrassingly quickly but that’s more than fine with you because he deserved it.

The next day when you ask him about it, he says his memories are a little fuzzy but he knows you made him feel safe and good.

[archangelsarchway]

Venture with a depressed!fem!s/o ... needing to get help out of bed, needing to be reminded to eat, needing physical affection over the charts constantly...

Hi anon! As someone who struggled with said things before and didn't have anyone to help me through it, I know and understand first hand the struggles of having depression. It is a thick fog that tells you that you can never get out, never leave:

But for the readers of this post struggling through these things today I want you to know something that helped me that I hope will help you,

"The greatest enemy to you is yourself."

I realized that the voice telling me that I was worthless, ugly, vile and horrible was just... me. It was my own voice. I was my own worst enemy and I vanquished it. with time and effort from myself and others, and I made it to see an age I thought I'd be in a coffin by, even though I still struggle some days.

Please, I do not wish to glorify depression and this is not something you wish you have. This post is meant to entertain but also educate and inform people how debilitating it is.

Anyway serious part over let's go pine over a rock muncher HAHAHA

I see what you're putting down anon, after my whole rant I just wanna say: RAHHH LETS FUCKING GO I LOVE THIS IDEA

Heavy topics but mostly fluff :3 you've been warned!

Sloan held you close as you tossed and turned in their arms, flopping to and fro, hair mussed up and clothing dirty from sweat and from being unwashed.

"My love, you have to bathe.. You're going to get hurt this way!"

You mumble and groan how your head hurts and that you don't deserve a shower. You're too dirty, too ugly to even find a place in a shower..

"What? Ni siquiera digas esas cosas querido, you deserve the world!"

They hold your face lovingly, still cradling your frail form in their arms as they heft you too easily to the bathroom. You're placated for now as you're too tired to even comprehend them washing your hair and body, barely able to stand on two legs. You insist on washing the sensitive parts of your body alone, as they washed your arms and legs.

You walk out of the shower in a fluffy towel prepared for you and a oversized shirt with ice cream on it and some dumb rubber ducky boxers makes you smile for a bit as you put them on and pad slowly to the kitchen.

"Oh, you're finished? It's almost lunch time, I'm making something.."

There are goggles on their eyes, a kitchen knife and the pan smells like garlic and onions, the latter of which explains the goggles.

"Lunch..."

"Yes, you have to eat diamante... I know you're smart and you already know this but you have to intake nutrients to preform homeostasis..."

"Yes.. I know."

They finish up making the food and they make a plate for you as you sit down on the couch, their eyes never leaving you and a body part always touching you at all times, whether it was a toe, elbow or a hand on your thigh, Sloan was your rock in an ever turning landscape of your mind.

You finished eating and Sloan caught your eye and gestured for you to come closer. You take the bait and are ensnared in their strong arms, stomach laying against their chest as you are exhausted from just this day. Sloan cards through your hair and kisses you softly as you sleep, love surrounding you as you fall into oblivion.

[penguinkyun]

chapter 146 review

i feel a little insane about this chapter. alright not just a bit a lot oh my god we are so back everyone 

before we begin, due to the nature of this chapter including himekawa airi, csa and child abuse along with a murder suicide are going to be mentioned so if you do not feel upto engaging please click off and take care of yourself

lets start with the filming scenes then. so we start with airi trying to reassert control and get into hikaru's head by telling him taiki was his son (horrifying) and how he would return to her because no one would love him (can i strangle her can i please please i really fucking want to this absolute-). this is the lead up to what is essentially the turning point in kamiki's life and hkai relationship: the uehara-himekawa murder suicide.

its so incredibly fucked that right after hikaru asks ai if she'll love him forever (as a direct response to airi manipulating him) she doesnt outright say yes (but she admitted she was trying to be honest and that is such a huge step forward for her) and when he tells uehara, the murder suicide happens. its a string of events very heavily culminating in an absolutely horrible situation for kamiki to find himself in. you can see from that panel of kamiki screaming that he absolutely did not mean for that to happen and it weighs on him. and speaking of weights…the Cut 156: Importance of Life comes right after the scene of the uehara-himekawa murder suicide. doesn't that name sound very Very similar to a certain dialogue? 

honestly its this similarity that has me tentatively putting out an incredibly batshit theory that for some reason, before filming and the final script was produced, aqua and kamiki met and something in that conversation caused a noticeable shift in how kamiki was portrayed in film. because for a film meant to murder someone, its oddly sympathetic isn't it? even to the point ai herself becomes a little less sympathetic. almost like it isn't kamiki's sole responsibility (although he was definitely involved) of the murder of ai and that someone else was pulling the strings as well cough secret villain kaburagi-. 

the shift is obvious in how frill calls it an extremely spiteful script…but once the final script is produced, both mem and kana point out that there is some kindness in the work, and that its difficult to say whether there is hatred or not. very shrimptresting. 

this is also backed up by…how exactly did aqua know all of this? i doubt kamiki would've told anyone else except maybe ai, and the only person who would know all of this down to the exact detail is kamiki himself. 

right this is becoming a full conspiracy theory that deserves its own post so lets move on 

anyway this chapter was so good for hikaru-ruby and ai-aqua parallels because hikaru nearly begging ai to say she loves him and will stay forever is incredibly reminiscent of ruby asking aqua if sensei still likes her and not letting him go out of fear he'd disappear if she did so and how both ai and aqua deflect awkwardly in those conversations out of discomfort with the question being presented to them and out of a desire to not outright lie to kamiki and ruby respectively

sidenote: goddamn the acting in this chapter. frill deserves several many awards for this film

sidenote sidenote: in movie!kamiki flopping onto ai was so adorable askjfsks ruby flopped the same way onto ai (in the bath scene in the volume extra)

and before we get to the next section let me just- 

screams 

kana nation we are so fucking back. 

this really is the start of aqua opening up!!! finally. i wonder what shift caused this given how intent he was on Never Telling Anyone but man am i so happy its happening. aqua being happy for the first time in quite a while like…how many chapters has it been? he's happy for 0.6 seconds!!! he giggled!!! im so happy aqua is actually happy askhfsks

aqua also now has a specific wry smile when talking about his mental health (just like ai has a very specific suffocating smile when shes trying to deflect)

kana’s response to this is honestly incredibly in character in that expression of concern she has seconds before she decides to keep the status quo of bickering esque dialogue that she has with aqua (likely trying not the overwhelm him) but very clearly expressing that she doesn’t want aqua to die and extracting the promise from him that he wouldn’t do so. then proceeding to act extra silly to try and cheer him up. kana i love you

aqua dropping the “i find myself happy when im with you” inhales. please excuse me while i go scream into the void. aquakana lets fucking goooooo. and kana quietly saying it back when aqua leaves? auuuuuughhhh

and finally, the real star of this chapter: KAMIKI’S BACK WITH THE MILK THIS IS NOT A DRILL HES BACK

so many things are interesting about these last few panels because at first i thought ruby was at ai’s grave but on a closer look she’s actually at a shrine? hm. for whom i wonder. did crow girl finally get fed up and tell her to give reverence akfsjsks. 

thing is, i don't think ruby’s in danger. because back in the chapter where kamiki debuted (c.72) he…never actually expresses any hatred or dislike towards her? honestly its rather reads like he’s proud of her and also nino apparently confirmed to kamiki that she wasn’t like ai so if that is his actual motive she’s not in danger of being killed for that. akamengo are the real antagonists of this series for the break next week fr. don’t you love oshi no ko our favourite biweekly manga

so this is an interesting ground for a father-daughter conversation isn’t it? 

[yourlocalstranger123]

I know....im supposed to do other things, but I just had an idea. [Why is my quaking brain only working when I'm busy with something else? Bruh]

Also, if there's somehow a post that is similar, sorry. Like there's literally so many. People could have similar ideas, you know 👍 also I know very well this thing is gonna become a flop/fail

Warning: angst [maybe?] Idk.

Other Worldly God.

1: HoYoLAB Poster/owner:????

2: Genshin wiki fandom title: night sky above dragonspine

There we're once a world called Teyvat. The world was peaceful, quiet, and soothing. Even though their creator wasn't really there for them, everyone still worshiped them. Why? Simply because they created them.

But soon, the creator dies. The reason was that they killed themselves because they could not bear the responsibility. They say that the pain of it was agonizing. The world began to crumble, and celestials could not stop this. Everyone lost hope until a miracle happened, Teyvat was back to normal. What was happening? It will remain a mystery to the others. But those who share the memories [heh, Zhongli lol] shall remember and know the true story.

"Oh, hello traveler! What brings you to this fine evening?" [Venti]

"Tsk, don't listen to that drunken bard. Although I am curious why you are here?..." [Zhongli]

"..." [Raiden/Ei]

"Hello, traveler! Ah, the atmosphere is a little tense, but everything is fine..." [Nahida]

Well, this is awkward....

"Well, paimon and traveler was just walking around to do some commission, but we got lost and found you here! Augh, I don't think paimon can fly anymore because how awkward this is!"

Aether/lumine tried holding back their laughter from hearing paimon's little statement.

"Anyways, paimon is curious. Why are you guys standing near a......"

Paimon face went pale. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her.

"....." [archons]

"What is what, paimon?" [Traveler]

Paimon went behind the traveler as the traveler finally felt like something was wrong...

"What are you guys hiding..." [traveler]

"You don't need to know such things. This is our business, as Archons." [Zhongli]

"Zhongli is correct." [Ei]

It was weird seeing Ei not using her puppet instead to just go to this place for....what ever that thing is behind them.

"Well, shouldn't I deserve to know since I've helped you in so many things, don't you think?" [Traveler]

"The traveler is right. We can trust them since they helped us in so many things." [Nahida]

"I agree! I don't think they would dare tell a soul about it..." [Venti]

The Archons moved away to stop blocking the view. Whatever the traveler had seen made them pale. Nahida clenched her hands as the other archons looked away, seemingly looking guilty.

"What did you do?!" [Traveler]

"We did nothing! They....they were already like this!...." [zhongli]

This is the first time seeing the calm, collected archon become so...angry

The figure they saw was embedded into the ground. Their eyes held no soul. There were vines-like things growing on their arms. Making the figure more embedded than it is. It's like Teyvat is sucking them in, what's going on?

"Traveler, have you heard a story of the creator?" [Nahida/Zhongli]

Traveler shakes their head as a sign of no. While they feel Paimon gripped their clothing harder, as they see Paimon was about to tear up.

The archons let Nahida explain the story of what people believed happened. Although some parts were correct, it wasn't really the story.

Venti volunteers to sing the true story, but Zhongli stops him.

"I am older than all of you, so I should be the one who tells the story. Am I not correct?"

Nahida, let's Zhongli explain since it was true he was the oldest and experienced it in first hand.

"You see, the original creator died, and Teyvat was crumbling to its death. But the figure you saw behind us was a God who saved us. They were more powerful than the celestials, but our original creator set some limits. As you can see, the reason why they are embedded is that they sacrificed their body to become one with Teyvat. Giving support to it. Since im the god of contracts, I had seen the contract between our creator and the God who saved us. Even if our creator was dead, their soul still remained and made a deal with them. Now that kind God is here. Before they became unconscious, they told us that when an outlander reaches sumeru, they will be awakened and finally be free from the grasp." [Zhongli]

To be continued

[oblonger]

@sincerely-sofie

I wanted to write something that somehow involved the mortal mentioned in this post for a while. I personally prefer writing wholesome and angsty feels over action, so I feel like this needs a second draft. But I don't feel passionate enough about this specific one-shot to do so. Anyway, here you go!

Darkrai had won

Darkrai had obtained everything he'd ever wanted. Everyone in this world and beyond were recieving what they deserved...

Yet he was still unsatisfied.

Darkrai told Dialga, a pitiful legend at his beck and call, to allow time to flow through him, and only him.

Darkrai felt his heart began beating again. Breath entered his lungs. He could now move once more. He rose from his throne and traveled down the corridor. He could simply visit her nightmares whenever he wanted, but the sight of her true body filled him with glee.

The silence was wonderful, Darkrai looked through the massive window he had dug into this cave wall. Taking in the breathtaking scenery of a pitch black night sky. The few pokemon in view, locked in place mid fight. No doubt suffering the way he wanted them to.

Darkrai entered the dungeon he had been making his way towards. Chained to the wall, and asleep in a breathless nightmare, was Cresselia.

Well, not quite Cresselia. To be precise, it was the Audino that he brought with him when he struck her down. He never bothered to remember the Audino's name. He simply called her Cresselia as a symbol of regret, for ending the true Cresselia's life in a fit of shortsightedness.

Darkrai smiled as he entered into Cresselia's nightmare.

"Good evening Cresselia." Darkrai announced upon entering her dream, turning it from whatever endless torture he had put her in last time, into a completely featureless void. He was the only thing besides her in here.

The Audino uncurled from the fetal position and groveled at his feet. Muttering apologies and begging him not to hurt her.

Pointless.

"I'm hurt Cresselia. I put in so much effort into making the perfect nightmare for you... and THIS is the gratitude I recieve?"

Darkrai snapped his fingers and an explosion went off from directly beneath her. Launching her a fair distance from him, landing on her back. She continued to spout apologies as she looked at him with sorrow, agony and terror.

What a wonderful look for her.

"Apology accepted. Cresselia." Darkrai taunted.

The Audino flopped onto her belly, facing away from him. quietly bawling her eyes out.

"I have done quite a lot of pondering as of late Cresselia. And I wanted to get your input." She continued to cry. Hoping her lack of response would get him to leave her alone.

She knew it wouldn't, he knew that she knew that. But seeing her utterly pathetic attempts at resisting filled Darkrai with joy.

"Tell me Cresselia." Darkrai wickedly grinned. "Do you have a fear of blood?"

The Audino flinched. She turned her head back to face him.

Darkrai's smile widened. "I suppose that is a yes then, hmm?"

Darkrai used his powers over this realm to make his claws as jagged as rotting, rusted metal, and serrated as a Sharpedo's teeth. Cresselia fell from her side onto her back, and tried to crawl away while facing him. Once more asking for forgiveness and for him to not hurt her, or some other nonsense.

Darkrai used his powers to drag Cresselia closer to him. He didn't need to approach her when watching her efforts to escape in vain was so much more entertaining.

Once she was within range, she stopped crawling. Holding her arms up to her face to try and shield it.

"Oh come now Cresselia." Darkrai said in a mockingly upbeat tone. "You don't believe I shall go through all of this effort, and not let you see the fruits of my labor?" Darkrai rose a hand, and her along with it. Perfectly exposing her stomach to him, with her head locked into position to force her to watch. Her eyes being prevented from shutting.

She was crying hysterically as he raised his arm to give her comeuppance.

He began his first slash when he suddenly stopped, right before his claw reached her.

Something felt... off.

It felt like Darkrai's skin was prickling across his body. Was she trying to fight back with her powers? No. She stopped trying to use her abilities decades ago.

Darkrai was staring off into the distance. Trying to figure out why this prickling feeling was so familiar to him.

The feeling got worse, and suddenly he felt the presence of another legend near his body.

Impossible, he killed or sealed all of the problematic ones away...

Then, Darkrai remembered where he felt this feeling before. It was Celebi. But how? How did she escape her imprisonment!?

Darkrai left Cresselia's dream, not even bothering to begin a new nightmare.

His eyes shot open and he briskly turned around, just quick enough to register that there was a Focus Punch mere inches from his face.

He didn't have time to react.

The attack connected. Launching him into the wall above Cresselia. Intense waves of pain echoing through his body multiple times. The wind being knocked out of him. Darkrai fell to the ground, gasping for air. Had he been a bit weaker it would have KO'd him instantly. It had been several decades since he'd last felt pain, that his tolerance for it was at its minimum

He looked up, expecting to see Celebi with some mortal. A foolish ploy to try and usurp him.

It wasn't Celebi.

Nor was it a random mortal.

It was Grovyle.

But... it couldn't be.

He knows it cant be him because he killed Grovyle personally.

The passage of time closed behind him, the lack of blinding light allowing Darkrai to better see his assailant.

It was Grovyle. But he was different. The leaf atop his head was incredibly long, dragging across the floor. The seeds that Sceptiles have on their backs were on his. His skin slowly shifted between lighter and darker shades of green.

But what made Darkrai realize who this was, was seeing the two antenna atop his head.

The antennae of a Celebi.

Darkrai quickly stood himself up and launched forward a volley of Dark Void. He wasn't taking any chances.

Grovyle didn't even move as his fist began glowing again, charging another Focus Punch. The Dark Void opened beneath him and pulsed waves of energy into him. Grovyle stumbled forward a bit before opening his mouth and biting down on something kept within.

Darkrai recognized the distinct crunch that it made.

A Chesto berry.

Before Darkrai could hide in the shadows, Grovyle bolted forward, eyes burning with a rage that far surpassed his own, and punched Darkrai hard in the side of his stomach launching him across the room and into the side wall. Darkrai coughed blood onto the floor. He could feel his consciousness slipping.

He wasn't going to lose this fight. HE DESERVES TO HAVE THIS!

Darkrai sunk into the shadows. The darkness of the room allowing him to reappear wherever he desires.

Darkrai waited for his chance. He kept himself in the shadows, searching for an opening.

Grovyle's expression didn't change, but his posture straightened. His shoulders became slack.

Darkrai knew what he was trying to do. He couldn't be hasty. As much as he wanted to gore him right now.

Grovyle stepped towards Cresselia and with a quick slash of his leaves, broke the chains that were more symbolic than functional.

Despite that, Darkrai's wrath surged. How DARE he try and save her!

And what a fool he was! Because now that he's distracted, he can strike!

Darkrai shot out from one of the walls behind him, preparing a shadow claw. Although his pain tolerance was low, he was nothing if not more powerful, one clean strike and this fool will be KO'd, allowing him to seal him away! All of his efforts in vain! He will be trapped forever! Just like this world's Celebi!! He'd won!!! HE HAD-

Darkrai felt true fear for the first time ever, when Grovyle locked eyes with him, as he moved his head very slightly to dodge the attack. Darkrai's claw missing his unblinking eyes by a hair's breadth.

Darkrai's last waking moments were of watching Grovyle unleash an X-scissor on him.

Darkrai awoke upon his throne. Everything hurt. Grovyle was crouched some distance away, rummaging through his satchel.

Not only had he bested him in combat, but he had also taken him out of the prison, and put him on his throne... LIKE SOME SORT OF TOY!!!

Darkrai launched forward, claws ready to splay this interloper's insides across the room.

Grovyle stood up straight, closing his satchel with no urgency whatsoever. And then he ducked under Darkrai's assault. His arm shot forward and grabbed Darkrai's forehead.

In an instant, Darkrai's entire body filled with an unimaginable pain. Darkrai fell upon his back and howled in torment. It felt like every fiber of his being was being burned, frozen, electrocuted and stabbed all at once.

He could see Grovyle staring at him with an intense anger... and what seemed to be pity.

The pain was too intense. It was bad enough that he hadn't felt pain in so long that he could only barely handle his body aching from the previous fight.

Once again, Darkrai passed out.

Darkrai awoke once more in the same spot he'd been in. The pain throughout his body having been dulled, except for his head, where it felt like it had been split in half.

Darkrai tried to lift an arm, but something was holding him down. Even his eyes felt sluggish. He looked around to see grovyle standing some distance off with his back towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a different pokemon, frozen in place. Too far for him to make out.

Grovyle moved his arm to drop a used, grey TM onto the ground. Making sure it was clearly visible to Darkrai.

"You know. My plan was to curse you with everlasting pain, and then seal you away." Grovyle suddenly broke the silence. His voice dripping with hatred. "So that way, you would suffer for the rest of eternity..."

"... But I realized something." Grovyle turned to look at him. His eyes burning with a fury unmatched. "I'm too nice for that."

Grovyle slowly began taking steps towards him. "At some point, I would feel guilty for doing that to you. No matter how much you deserve it." Darkrai wanted to attack him, but only his eyes were capable of movement.

It dawned on him what Grovyle had done, once he realized that his heart only beat twice since he'd woke up.

Darkrai tried to reach out to Dialga, demanding that he needn't any precision, that he could let time flow freely as long as Darkrai can move again.

... But there was no response.

"At that point, I would just come back and finish the job."

Grovyle crouched down on one knee and lowered his head to look at Darkrai.

"Death is far too merciful for you... But I'm a merciful guy."

Grovyle lifted a hand. a crackling orb of yellow-white energy formed just above it.

Hyper Beam.

Grovyle moved his hand and held the orb just above Darkrai's head. Right over where he had cursed him.

Darkrai's eyes stared straight into Grovyle, he used his psychic powers to speak with him.

"I hope everyone you ever love perishes."

Grovyle gave a disgusted chuckle.

"Too late."

Faster than an instant, Darkrai was dead.

[sarahwroteathing]

Dear Sam (2)

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Word Count: 1615

Summary: You begin drafting your letter to Sam, and old memories resurface.

Warnings: Discussion of grief

A/N: Surpriiiiiiiiise. I once again kool-aid man my way back to my blog to post a thing. Any and all gratitude for my sudden reappearance can be directed to @indominusregina I am here to bum you out on your birthday, like a true friend. Love you, bestie

Part One

There were false starts, many of them, written in a notebook you kept in your nightstand drawer. The handwriting on each varied slightly, reflecting the emotional state of each version of yourself that risked putting pen to paper. 

The first try came out jagged. Awkward. A handwriting reminiscent of high school note taking, messy and vaguely frantic, with half transformed letters sprinkled throughout, where your hand tried and almost failed to keep up with the ever shifting message in your brain. 

Dear Sam, 

The comma started too high, an aborted beginning of a second m. Sammy, you’d almost written, before dismissing it as out of character. You’d only ever called him that in moments primed for a smile. Through a pout, syllables drawn out, dramatic and mostly insincere, in a half-hatched ploy to get your way. Or in a falsely scandalized tone, clutching at invisible pearls you’d never owned, to make him roll his eyes or double down on whatever flirtation he’d been throwing your way. Sometimes in profoundly giddy joy, the kind that sent you running to meet him in the entryway like an excitable child, throwing your arms around him and not even thinking twice about the pure, eager love you were displaying for him. 

In any case, not appropriate for now, for a form so thoroughly divorced from its proper contexts.

All I can think about is how I have no idea how to write this letter. How much better you would be at this. You were always good with emotion, with explaining things kindly and firmly, with making yourself understood. I think I got better with you, but I still feel underqualified to write something as important as this. But the point is, I’m the only one who can write it. So I’m going to try anyway. In case it helps. Because there’s a whole lot I don’t understand, but one thing I do know is that you’d want me to get better and to move on if I could. You were annoyingly unselfish that way.

You threw down your pen, a shaky exhale escaping your lungs with an urgency, like you’d been holding it for too long. Maybe you had been. It felt as though every word you wrote only made it to the paper by being ripped free from your heart. It hurts. It’s stupid, senseless. A letter written by you, for you, addressed to a man who will never read it. It doesn’t matter. But it still manages to fucking hurt. 

You clench your jaw, pick up your pen again. 

But I don’t know how to move on, Sam. I don’t know how to let you go. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’ve been gone so long that I…

You took a sharp breath, eyes burning, as you forced out the words.

I sometimes forget to miss you. And I feel like I must be the worst person alive every time. Because you deserve more than that. You deserve every tear I can shed, every second of every sleepless hour, every stolen breath, every pound of grief I can shoulder. You deserve everything. And I get so mixed up in my head about it, how I can go so long sometimes without remembering you’re really gone and then get dragged under again like I’ve just lost you for the very first time. It doesn’t make sense. I wish I could make it make sense. I wish you were here to explain it to me. I wish you were here. 

You scrubbed your hands over your face, pushed yourself restlessly to your feet. 

One lap of your apartment. 

Deep breath. 

A second lap. 

You grabbed your pen and notebook from the desk, flopped down on your bed with them, staring blankly at the small jewelry dish on your nightstand for several minutes. A leather bracelet, the name of a town you’d never been to artfully etched on the surface. A delicate chain with a small gold charm in the shape of a wing. A watch, way too bulky for your own wrist, that you’d insisted on wearing every day for almost a year. An Idaho state quarter dated 2007. 

Do you remember the night we met? In that dive bar down the street from my old apartment. It was as far from the height of romance as you could possibly get, but you made it work for you anyway. You and Steve and Natasha were sitting in the back booth, a few steps from the jukebox thats simple existence charmed me to pieces.

I remember how disappointed I was when my pockets came up short. I’m not sure whether it was my proximity or my colorful words that first drew your attention. But there you were. My knight in soft leather with a hand full of quarters shining red from the neon beer sign over your shoulder.

“How much you short by?” 

“Fifty cents,” you answered with a rueful laugh, eyes flickering between his handsome face and the handful of change. 

“Well, I happen to have fifty cents, and I’m happy to give it to you if I get veto power on your song choice.”

The corner of your mouth drifted up into a half smile despite your best efforts at his mildly flirtatious but matter-of-fact tone.

“I don’t take gifts with strings attached,” you said challengingly.  

“Alright, alright. Worth a shot. Can I at least stick around to see what you pick?”

The compromise we came up with: you picked a letter, I picked a number. And I don’t think it was a test exactly, but when I picked the Marvin Gaye song, the way your eyes lit up and the smile you gave me left no doubt that I’d passed with flying colors.

And I remember being so instantly enamored with you, with that beautiful smile and those eyes that promised a safe kind of trouble, that I stopped noticing anything else. My best friend’s song request blasting through the speakers, the sticky floors, the taste of the tequila sunrise you bought me with a promise that there would be no strings attached. And there weren’t any, of course. But I remember wishing there would be if it meant a chance of seeing you again.

And I remember the way I made my move on you, when you pressed two more quarters into my hand so I could pick my own song without interference. I remember you hooking your finger on the back belt loop of my jeans so we wouldn’t get separated on our way back to the jukebox and the way I was glad you were behind me so you couldn't see how much that made me smile. 

You barely hesitated, keying in your selection as soon as the quarters rattled home. You’d seen the song the first time, while Sam had been examining the catalog. 

It started only a few seconds later, and you turned with a satisfied little smile, watching Sam as he tilted his head, squinting slightly as he tried to identify the opening notes. 

When the first line hit, that smile was back, wide and charming and playful. 

“The night we met I knew I needed you so.”

“Okay,” he laughed, taking a half step closer, leaning his shoulder against the wall right beside you. “Hittin on me now, huh?” 

“Presumptuous,” you said mildly, not moving away. “Maybe I’m just very passionate about the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.” 

“That’s still sounding like a line to me.”

You shrugged, pushing off the wall with a teasing smile. It put you much closer, your faces only inches apart. 

“You planning on doing something about it?”

I was bolder that night than I ever had been. You had that effect on me. Made me brave, confident. Joyful. You made me so fucking happy, Sam. Right from the beginning. I was never as unapologetically and ecstatically myself as when I was with you. I don’t know how to do that without you, how to be that person again. I don’t know if I ever can. I miss her too. The version of me who walked through life beside you, who could call you anytime just to hear your voice. Who could hear “Be My Baby” and come running, follow the sound to where you were waiting with your phone held up and a goofy little grin that felt like it was all mine, get bundled up in your arms and plied with kisses until I was breathless and giggling. 

Now it just hurts. I can’t bring myself to delete the song from my playlists, but every time it comes on, I can’t help but cry. And now when I’m breathless, it’s not in that fun, giddy way. It’s more dangerous. Like choking. Like drowning. And I’m so tired, Sam. I want to stop. I want to keep all the memories I have of you, the sound of your laugh, the smell of your skin, the way my hand fit in yours. But I don’t want this pain. And I’m not sure anymore if I can have one without the other. That terrifies me.

So I guess what all this means is that I’m trying to let you go, and it’s not supposed to be against my will, but that’s how it feels anyway. I’m scared of letting you go the way I’m scared of almost everything these days. 

What if I forget you? What if I don’t? I honestly can’t tell you what would feel worse. But no matter what… 

You know I will adore you till eternity. 

Even when you’re not here to sing it with me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

I love you.

---------------------

Sound off! Who's not dead?

Would love to hear your thoughts, my loves. This story is truly a living organism with drastically changing drafts.

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 33: MADEMOISELLE REVOLUTION (2022)

1. The Introduction

Well, hello there, my dearest Citizens! Welcome back to Jacobin Fiction Convention! I missed you but, unfortunately, real life ™️ was a bit complicated yet again.

Either way, I’m back at it again, roasting analyzing historical fiction. Today’s “masterpiece” was graciously sent to me by @suburbanbeatnik in PDF form as a future review subject. And boy is it one hell of a ride.

Now, on paper, I was intrigued by a story of a Haitian biracial bisexual female protagonist, as there are many possibilities for that kind of story to unfold in a Frev setting.

Besides, it was written by an author who is promoting the #OwnVoices stories, which is a good intention in my opinion. Let’s see if the execution matches though.

(Spoiler alert: IT DOES NOT!)

Unfortunately, it looks like the book is only available in English at the moment and has to be purchased, mainly through Amazon. But maybe both of those things are for the best, since, upon finishing the book, I will be happy if it stays as contained and inaccessible to the wide audience as humanly possible.

Why? Well, more on that later.

This review will be longer than the ones I usually post, so please keep that in mind and grab some popcorn.

Also, it’s a very explicit book with scenes of sexual assault and gore. Goya’s “Disasters of War” and even “Innocent Rouge” levels of gore. So yeah, please be warned.

Anyway, this review is dedicated to @suburbanbeatnik , @jefflion , @lanterne , @on-holidays-by-mistake and @amypihcs . Love you, guys!

Now, let’s tear this sucker apart!!!

2. The Summary

The book follows the story of Sylvie de Rosiers, an aristocratic young woman born to a slave but raised by her plantation owner father as a free member of local nobility. Although not enslaved, Sylvie never felt truly accepted by the elites of Sainte Domingue.

However, following the outbreak of the Haitian Revolution, Sylvie and one of her half-brothers manage to escape to France, where another revolution is unfolding.

Intrigued by the ideas of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, Sylvie must fight to find acceptance in this new context and carve out a place for herself.

Sounds interesting so far, right? Let’s see if the story lives up to expectations or not.

3. The Story

I have to admit that the first few chapters, the ones taking place on Haiti, were actually pretty good, or at least not bad. The pacing was good, the storyline building up to the uprising made sense and the introductions of the characters and the world building were fine.

Too bad that this lasted only for about four beginning chapters. The French chapters making up the bulk of the book were awful.

The characters suffer from assassination like they’re mafia snitches, the pacing turns into a speed run, the historical context isn’t explained well at all and the story rapidly stops making sense:

First Sylvie arrives and quickly meets Robespierre and the Duplay family, then becomes an ardent revolutionary, then flip flops between loving Eleonore Duplay and pining for Robespierre, then just so happens to meet Danton and Marat, then becomes a spy, then murders Marat… No, I’m not joking.

All of this is in the book with very little justification that makes sense. The worst part? The book isn’t stated as alternative history, so the author is very dishonest and presents everything in the book as actual history that is accurate to reality when it’s definitely not.

Oh, and flashbacks. The fucking flashbacks breaking immersion like a cat breaking a vase don’t help at all.

There’s also a ton of Thermidorian propaganda as well, so yeah… Fail.

4. The Original Characters

Let’s tackle the OCs first because the historical peeps deserve a separate category here.

First and foremost, I don’t like Sylvie as a character. She starts out as a vain spoiled brat growing up surrounded by privilege and luxury and openly looking down on slaves, especially on women.

Then she witnesses the execution of a rebel and very suddenly goes: “Fuck, slavery is awful!”, renounces her old ways, disowns her father and does a 180. It’s not written well though and is more like a teenage tantrum than character development.

Sylvie keeps flip flopping like this throughout the entire story too. Yay…

Oh, and she’s a Mary Sue. Everyone adores her except the villains, she’s able to charm her way through anything and obviously plays an important role in almost all of Frev! Robespierre even calls her The Mother of the Revolution at several points, even though she did nothing to earn that title.

She also pines for Robespierre for no reason at all, except for “he’s cool and charming I guess”, but in order to get closer to him, Sylvie Sue ™️ starts an intimate relationship with Eleonore Duplay.

So yeah, our protagonist manipulates another person (which is abuse) and plays Eleonore like a fiddle, but she also flip flops between only using Eleonore and actually loving her. Is Sylvie ever called out for that? Technically yes, but it gets resolved too quickly so it doesn’t count.

Also, Sylvie is INCREDIBLY selfish. She’s fine with manipulating Eleonore, fine with Charlotte Corday being executed for killing Marat (in the book Sylvie did it) and taking the blame… Again, everything revolves around Sylvie and she never gets called out on that either and never gets better.

She lacks consistent personality aside from those traits, however. She claims to want safety yet always takes the risky option and refuses to emigrate when it would help her obtain actual safety, for instance.

Gaspard, one of her half-brothers, is a much better character in my opinion, but still underdeveloped. But at least his journey from privileged fop to a revolutionary is less clunky. Too bad he dies with the Montagnards in the end.

Sylvie also has another half-brother, Edmond, who is cartoonishly evil and tries to murder Sylvie at one point.

Sylvie also has a standard issue evil stepmother who is eager to marry her off and thus get rid of her but at least has enough decency to not be actively malicious.

Her dad is loving, but painfully ignorant.

Sylvie’s aunt Euphemie de Rohmer is a good character, always looking out for Gaspard and Sylvie. She does emigrate to London during the reign of terror though.

Okay, now let’s discuss the historical figures.

5. The Historical Characters

I know that I usually don’t discuss accuracy, but an exception must be made here.

Maximilien Robespierre seems to undergo a typical “character arc” of “actual revolutionary turned ruthless dictator”. He is also one again coded as asexual and thus shown as not giving two shits about his lover, Eleonore Duplay. He tries to marry Sylvie for political reasons only later in the book and it’s all but stated that he condones all the violence going on and is called a hypocrite multiple times. Oh, and he also kisses Sylvie without her consent… Err… DID SIVAK CONFUSE HIM FOR DANTON?!!! Okay, one sec…

(Shows up with a bloody face) Okay, let’s continue…

Eleonore Duplay is a promising artist who is fiercely loyal to Robespierre but cheats on him with Sylvie and later turns out to be a member of a women’s secret society that is trying to curb the terror. She’s on board with murdering Marat and is also friends with Olympe de Gouges and Charlotte Corday. Wtf?!

(Checks that the antidepressants didn’t cause a hallucination)

Elisabeth Duplay falls in love with Gaspard and her marriage to Le Bas is portrayed as arranged by Robespierre to “reward” Le Bas for being a loyal Jacobin, but at least she is relatively happy in said marriage. Uhm, okay…

Olympe de Gouges and Charlotte Corday are portrayed as basically saints and also part of the secret society.

Corday in particular is willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of France and Sylvie is fine with that because, apparently, Corday has nothing to live for anyway but Sylvie does.

It’s not like in reality Corday actually had a family and Girondist friends or anything so yeah, TOTALLY OKAY to throw her under the bus amirite?!

Danton, luckily, is portrayed fairly accurately as a crass womanizing brute so at least that’s correct.

Marat is a stereotypical bloodthirsty monster who is supposed to be very smart yet acts like an idiot in the presence of our dear Sylvie Sue.

Charlotte Robespierre makes exactly one cameo and acts like a total ass to both Duplay sisters and to Sylvie (who she just met). Don’t get me wrong, Charlotte was at odds with the Duplay family but not all of them and certainly she wasn’t a bitch to every single fucking stranger.

Augustin Robespierre is merry, a gentleman, loyal to his ideas but also a part of that secret society and also supports the idea of offing Marat. Nice…

Surprisingly, Henriette Robespierre makes a cameo alongside Charlotte and also acts like an ass but at least less so than Charlotte. Except she shouldn’t even be in the book because the cameo happens in 1792, yet Henriette died in 1780. So it’s either a ghost or the author doesn’t care. I’m kind of inclined to believe the latter.

Where are Camille Desmoulins and Saint-Just, you may act? ABSENT, believe it or not! No, I’m not kidding! They’re nowhere to be seen for some reason!!! I have no idea why. They’re not even fucking mentioned!!!

Anyway, let’s move on before I lose my sanity.

6. The Setting

Again, the first chapters are much better than the rest. In the majority of the book the descriptions are not that great and the world building is laughably inaccurate, to the point that, if I were told that it’s a joke fanfic, I’d have believed it instantly!!!

7. The Writing

Thankfully, there’s no “First Person Present Tense” bullshit, but the writing is still full of problems. The aforementioned flashbacks are just one problem, but there are others.

For example, extremely clunky use of French. I’m the beginning of every chapter we get a date and the months are in French. This would’ve been fine but gets ridiculous in cases like “early avril 1793”. What’s wrong with writing “early APRIL”?!

Oh, and in another instance, the houses of families are called “Chez + Family name”, like Chez Rohmer and Chez Marat. It gets weird when the text has phrases like “went at Chez Marat”. Chez already means “at” in this context, so it’s extremely redundant and a damn eyesore. Wouldn’t it be better to say “Went to Marat’s apartment”? Apparently, not for Zoe Sivak!

Also, the author describes all the brutal and gory scenes of executions and torture at an alarming length and with a concerning amount of details, to the point that I got very uncomfortable despite not being squeamish most of the time.

8. The Conclusion

Phew, it’s finally over. As you may have guessed, I don’t recommend wasting your time and money on this pile of trash.

A 13-year old here on tumblr can write a better novel than whatever the fuck this author published.

It’s poorly researched with inaccuracies that even a quick Wikipedia search could fix, the protagonist is an awful Mary Sue, the historical characters get constantly fucked over… so yeah, please skip this shit.

Anyway, on that note, let’s conclude today’s meeting. I think I might need time to recover from reading this book…

Stay tuned for updates!

Love,

Citizen Green Pixel.

[lovelywingsart]

Neverending Forces -- New Beginnings

-- Infinite the Jackal X OC (Trans, He/Him) --

Ah... well, here you go! I already posted it to AO3, but figured I'd post here too. Give y'all something else to read while Metalworks stories are on standby, yeah?

Anyway- It's been a while since I've properly written another canon character that has nothing to do with Resident Evil since that's ALL I've worked on for the past 3 years (no Saren doesn't count, I haven't actually written for him), as well as the first time I've written a canon character after only consuming/playing the game properly once yet loving the character for a while.

They did him dirty and I'm still so angry at both his poor excuse of an 'origin story' and the fact that he doesn't even last until the VERY end of the game because he flopped on the ground like a wet stuffed animal and then fucked off to who knows where. Once again, canon fucked us.

If y'all wanna see more stories for them, this may primarily be a 'ask suggestion only' series, because I'm not entirely sure how much else I'll write... So, I guess let me know, and if you wanna see a specific story interaction feel free to shoot me an ask with an idea and I'll see what I can do!

Sonic fanfiction lessgo as well as a pretty new story cover ayyyy

-----

Warnings?: Severe injury/wound, threats, a hack job of a wound dressing

Summary: Takes place immediately after the events of Sonic Forces -- While scouting the city on a personal patrol to ensure the safety of it's citizens, our secondary hero, only nicknamed 'the rookie' thus far, makes an interesting- and possibly dangerous- discovery. While the fight has ended, a new part of life has begun; and this is only the beginning.

The city was bustling rather quietly, though not in its normal capacity- rebuilding and clearing of debris had begun almost immediately after the robots in the city itself had been destroyed and the hallucinations, the 'clones', had disappeared from the outskirts. Citizens and nearby townsfolk had gathered in attempts to repair what they could before nightfall, working quickly with precautions being taken amongst the masses to prevent more injury. Though while many were on the ground, a lone figure made its way across rooftops, searching for any remnants of the battle beforehand. 'Tie up any loose ends' , he had thought to himself. Of course he stopped if he was needed, though was primarily met with praises. Humbling as it was, he didn't quite fancy the attention- he had only helped save the world, after all. It was the hedgehog that deserved the praise, not him.

The wolf hopped between rooftops with ease, his ears on a constant swivel for any yells for help or crumbling stone- only to pause as a small glint caught his eye. He nearly skid to a stop as his eyes were fully drawn to it, his head cocking to the side in curiosity. Even with all the metallic debris around from buildings and other structures, nothing had caught the sun as brightly as... whatever it was. Perhaps a light signal for help? he thought, suddenly launching forward to a lower rooftop for a better look. Someone who needed it but couldn't call?

He crouched as he landed on the concrete again, huddling to the edge. He could see the object clearer now, a pointed metallic piece on the ground, peeking from around the corner of a darker alleyway already affected by the lowering sun. It's brilliant gleam drew him closer, intriguing him to the point of movement. He jumped down once more, keeping his gaze on the object until he hit the pavement. One look around him reflected that most living souls were near the middle of the city where the most damage was- no one was around, and the sound was distant. Scents were dulled from the muzzle he wore, but his attention was once more brought towards the reflective piece as a familiar one drifted through in that direction. It was a scent that admittedly made the fur on the back of his neck raise, but he couldn't decipher exactly what it was... But it made his stomach turn.

It wasn't until he walked closer, side stepping a few feet away as the object grew larger and noticeably hollow. The shape of it was peculiar, the tip of it pointed and angled up with flattened edges instead of round. Inching closer gave it more detail, and he suddenly froze.

The object was... a mask.

A FAMILLIAR mask…

Infinites mask.

He felt his heartbeat quicken in a sudden rush of panic, his lips pulling back into an involuntary snarl under the muzzle as his eyes darted to and fro. His nostrils flared as he attempted to calm himself down. But... Infinite was dead...

Right...?

The thought crossed his mind quickly, and it eased him- but not by much. He only vaguely remembered the Jackal panicking before he was swallowed into another fight- but surely this meant he was dead.

The wolf took a breath, stepping forward with mild confidence. He neared the mask, picking it up off the ground and inspecting it. The object was surprisingly light, the once polished metal scuffed and the glass of the left eye cracked from when it was inevitably dropped. He turned it in his hands, his claws tapping along the metal. It was surprisingly well made now that he saw it up close...Well. Closer than he already had.

He held it up in front of him, his imagination running. A cold shot of fear ran along his spine once more as he looked directly at it, his vision seeming to flicker back to when he was cornered. Back to when he fought the Jackal face to face, when he met the wild gaze of the creature they had gone against. He dropped the thing once more as if it had burned him with the not so distant memory, his breaths quickening. He flinched as it hit the ground- but his ears suddenly perked as another noise drifted from the alley in response to the clatter. He looked up, the sound registering. It sounded like... pain.

He forced his fear away with a shake of the head as he walked into the darkening area, following the sounds of stifled groaning. He only paused again once another, more metallic scent hit his nose, and one glance at the ground seemingly confirmed his suspicions-

Blood.

And with the amount pooled in one area, whoever it was wouldn't last much longer.

The thought of another innocent losing their life forced him into movement, following the trail and handprints on the wall further down the dark alley. The glimpse of a white tipped tail disappearing behind the corner only urged him into a jog, nearly sliding as he rounded the corner himself. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught in his throat as his eyes focused on the sight he found in front of him.

The Jackal.

The Jackal who, currently, kneeled and huddled against the wall with wheezing breaths, one hand over his face and the other pressed to the middle of his chest. He was in pain, clearly, but the wolf kept his distance. Eyeing him for a few seconds more revealed the cause of said pain; a large wound under the hand on his chest, staining the cream fur red as he seemingly attempted to apply pressure with his palm. Even from a small distance it almost looked like something had exploded from his chest, bits of torn and ripped flesh visible even under the tufts of soaked fur. It was only then that he remembered the stone that had once been fixed to his chest, and it suddenly clicked.

The Phantom Ruby... the thing that had been the ultimate cause of his 'powers'. The very thing he himself had countered with the duplicate, and the thing who's power he had helped destroy in the end- and destroying it seemed to destroy Infinite as well. Or, at least leave him with a flesh wound in the form of a deep hole in his chest.

He took another cautious step forward. He had a feeling the jackal wouldn't fight now... If he did, it was a death sentence.

Infinites ears swiveled madly as his footsteps grew closer, a single yellow eye darting up to see the wolf approaching. The recognition was instant, and a low snarl ripped through his throat.

" YOU- " he started, only for his voice to catch in his throat as the pain from his chest flared. The wolf stopped in his tracks, listening to the pained wheezes. If the pain didn't stop him, the blood loss would.

He was silent as he watched the jackal struggle, fighting back the sudden rush of anger. The sudden rush of rage he felt towards the jackal and what he had done, what he had helped do, knowing this is what he had become afterwards.

The great Infinite, once so high and mighty before running with his tail between his legs and now dying with a hole in his chest.

His thoughts rushed through his mind, some festering longer than others in such a short time. He could have left him there... he could have walked away. Let him bleed out. This creature was once a threat to the galaxy as they knew it, it was the least he could do…

But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

He wasn't as bad as them.

He resumed his approach, suddenly reaching up to the strap of the muzzle. If the jackal was bare faced, he thought he may as well be, too. They were both new faces, after all.

He could feel Infinites eyes on him, pressing to the wall and growling like a cornered animal as the wolf removed the muzzle, kneeling down in front of him. He saw the jackals eyes move with more frantic confusion with the revealed pale fur, though his own attention was locked onto the hole his hand still covered. Blood seeped through his fingers, turning the dark grey fur a deep crimson, nearly gushing if he moved to shift away. But the wolf stayed silent, his head tilting to the side.

Infinite growled again.

" Get... aw-way... " he managed through bared teeth, but the wolf didn't budge. Instead, he moved closer, now determined to at least put a stop to- or at least slow- the bleeding.

He'd at least give him a chance.

He reached out for the hand on his chest, but the Jackal instead lunged forward and snapped his jaws at his wrist in a defensive snarl.

" D-Don't you DARE touch m- " he started, only for his voice to get cut off as the wolf lunged, himself, letting a small burst of rage take control for the shortest of moments. Whether it was a control tactic or a genuine threat to kill, even he wasn't sure. He moved without thinking.

Infinite found his back shoved against the ground with a pained yelp, scrambling to take hold of the wolf in defense before finding one set of claws around his neck while the other surrounded the wound on his chest. His ears were pinned to the back of his head as he looked at the wolf over him, miscolored eyes widening as he stared at a set of razor sharp teeth shown from a dangerous snarl, like that of a feral animal. This COULDN'T have been the same kid…

The wolf stared down at him, pale lips curled back over his fangs as he fought the anger towards the jackal. Fought the urge to claw more into his chest, to make the already deep wound even larger. But he stopped himself, seeing the realization of overpowerment in the eyes of what had once been the enemy. What might STILL be the enemy if he wasn't careful. His snarling faltered for a few moments as he contemplated, only to finally relax- but only just a bit.

" ... I could hurt you... " he said simply, the calmness of his voice unsettlingly jarring in contrast to the fangs still near the others muzzle, looking as if they were ready to tear in a moments notice. He felt Infinite freeze under him with a pained whine as he dug his claws into his chest, making sure he was fully aware of the truth his words held.

He COULD hurt him... but he wouldn't.

He stayed where he was for a few moments until finally moving his hand from the jackals throat, instead grabbing the stained bandana around his neck. An uncomfortable yip was forced from his throat as the wolf tugged it away, aware of the now burning sensation along the back of his neck from the fabric being yanked against it. Any other thought of moving was thrown out as another sudden pain shot through his system, this time caused by the wolf shoving the harshly folded bandana against the open wound to apply as much pressure as he could.

He pressed it against the jackals chest with force, soaking up blood and preventing more from pooling. His own ears went back at the resulting pained cry, feeling the others claws reach and dig into his arm in feeble attempts to get him away. But he didn't budge, pressing against the fabric and keeping his eyes on it. He waited for the jackals shock to waver, judging by the force of the claws in his arm. Wasn't so invincible now, was he?

A few seconds more was all it took, and he reached to untie his own bandana. The claws on his arm tightened as he shifted, centering it along the jackals chest while pressing it down, as well.

" Y-You- "

"Quiet."

Even Infinite couldn't help but listen, his voice hoarse and vision wavering as the wolf worked. Cloth was pressed to his chest, then his sides just under the arms- one side shoved under his back until he was forcibly rolled onto the same side with another groan, the wolf grabbing his arms and making him apply pressure, himself. He was still as the wolf tied his own bandana around the jackals chest in a tight knot. Only when he was satisfied with his work did he pry himself away, watching the once great Infinite curl into a ball with heavy, wheezing breaths and both hands pressed against his chest as if still trying to keep pressure. But even then he couldn't help but growl, the vibration sending more sparks of pain along his body.

"... I don't... I don't need... your pity..." he managed, his own teeth bared as he now attempted to fight the pain. But the wolf just stared at him, tilting his head.

"Not pity." He said quietly, earning a glance from the jackal.

There was silence between them, the wolf watching carefully. He simply backed away moments later as Infinite shifted, managing to shuffle onto his knees, yet still hunched over; then a moments pause before finally pushing himself up after taking wavering breaths, his body trembling still. The wolf kept his eyes on him, watching carefully. He was still weak, yes, but the fact he could still move now was mildly impressive, all things considered... He was starting to think that the ruby only increased the strength he already had.

He still kept his distance, though let out a huff. This was taking too long…

"You'll die here." He stated simply, and the jackals ears swiveled to pin against his head once more.

"What are you-"

"Come." The wolf said, grabbing the muzzle he wore from his side and bringing it back to his face. "Proper care. Safety."

Infinite growled again, his breaths nothing short of an angry wheeze.

" I don't- "

"Come, or die." The wolf repeated, backing away again. Another statement, as if he knew exactly what the outcome would be. The jackal stared at him, though let out a groaning growl.

He managed to steady his arms enough to lean forward on his knees, taking more pained breaths with every movement as he attempted to stand. He shifted more after each pause, using the wall to hold himself upright as he slowly stood. His legs trembled from the weakness and pain, but he pushed on, nearly stumbling into a trash bin once he tried to take a step from a sudden dizziness. But he steadied himself once more, keeping one hand against the tight bandanas on his chest.

"... Who are you..." he grumbled finally, turning to glance at the wolf who had begun his walk out of the alley.

The wolf paused at the question. It wasn't the first time he had asked, of course... but it was the only time he was willing to answer.

He turned to look over his shoulder, copper eyes burning.

"Rook." He said simply, nodding towards the road. "Come."

The jackal stared as he continued to walk, only looking down as his blood stained hands the farther away he got. He weighed his options quickly, but it was rather clear to him that he had no choice-

He had nothing else to go to, no matter if he wanted to live or not.

With a pained breath and a shuffle forward, he followed the wolf slowly, holding onto the wall and sticking to the shadows with the occasional met gaze to ensure he was still standing.

[eriquin]

Cat's in the Cradle, part 5

Wayne deals with the bad news he heard, and then with the slightly better news he hears soon after.

(master post)

Wayne got stuck in the panicked crowd at the front of the school. Everyone had been stunned by the unfortunate new weather pattern for a hot minute, then started running around like headless chickens. Dustin looked especially alarmed, and he helped the boy limp back into the school and got him to some of his friends. Dustin started talking a mile a minute at them, saying that they had to get in touch with someone immediately, and he was able to gracefully sneak away without being noticed. 

His boy was gone. He was done with this damned town. He was going to head back to that motel room, pack all his things into his truck, and drive away. To hell with anything left in his trailer. It had probably gotten eaten up in the earthquake anyway. He was going to drive as far as he could get that night, find a place to hole up, and drink himself into oblivion. 

When he got to his truck, he wrenched the door open and threw his duffel bag across the seat. It landed with a thump and a yelp, which startled Wayne out of his funk. There, curled up in the wheel well and pushing the duffel off of his head, was a little ragamuffin looking just like the day he’d come to live in Wayne’s trailer. 

“Oh lord,” Wayne managed to say. His voice cracked a bit when he did. Before he knew it, he had climbed into the truck and pulled Eddie up, dragging him across the bench seat and into a tight hug.

“Hey, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said. His face was buried in the crook of Wayne’s neck, and his voice was a squeaky thing, just revving up for those awkward teenage years. “It, uh, happened again.”

Wayne was crying again. He knew it and didn’t care. “I can see that, boy,” he said, stroking Eddie’s curls. “I’m just so damn glad to see you. I gotta tell you, I was half expecting this when you disappeared. Out there wondering if you’d popped back to being a damn toddler.”

“Waaayne,” Eddie whined. He tried to pull back from the hug, but Wayne wouldn’t let go.

“I was gonna start checking orphanages next. Wasn’t lookin’ forward to diaper changes, I’ll tell you what.” 

Eddie laughed and twisted around until he was curled up into Wayne’s side, tucked under his arm. “I still don’t know how I did it,” he muttered. 

“Don’t matter,” Wayne muttered. He straightened out, keeping his arm around his boy, and pulled the door closed. “Just glad you made it back to me in one piece. You know, I just got back from one of your friends telling me how you bit it? That boy told me how you could’ve run but you turned and fought for this damn town and I just... To hell with this town!” He squeezed Eddie tight and gave him a little shake. “They don’t deserve you, boy. We’re getting out, starting fresh somewhere new, somewhere not damned—”

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie pulled himself free and got up on his knees to shake him back. “Just listen, okay? We can’t go yet.” 

“The hell we can’t,” Wayne said. He pulled his keys from his pocket and started the truck. “I’m telling you, this place is cursed. Sit your ass down and buckle up.”  

“It’s the lab, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said. “Everything that’s happening now is because of what happened in the lab.”

Wayne turned to stare at Eddie. They held eye contact for a good long time before he looked back at the steering wheel. “All right, Ed,” he said. “You got my attention.”

“Good, ‘cause this is a long and, frankly, batshit story.” He turned and flopped down into the passenger seat, pushing the duffel down to land on top of a maroon backpack. He paused while buckling up and snorted a bit to himself. “Sorry. Batshit. That’ll be funny when I tell you how I died.”

Wayne sucked in his breath. “Did you really die, son?” he whispered. 

“I think I did.” Eddie grinned as he buckled up and took on one of his funny voices. “I got better!” 

It made Wayne laugh, which in turn made Eddie smile, showing off the dimples in the baby fat around his cheeks. He’d smiled so rarely the first time he’d been this age, after everything that had happened to his parents. Wayne was still inclined to just drive away from Hawkins, possibly not even stopping to pick up his things if it meant he could get Eddie somewhere safe. But the lab had been haunting them for a decade, so if Eddie said it was behind all of this he had to at least listen. He shifted the truck into gear and started to pull out of the parking lot.

“All right, then,” Wayne said. “Start talking. You’ve got until we get to my motel room to convince me to stay.” 

“Maybe you should buckle up too, old man,” Eddie said. “Just in case you wreck the truck when you hear this story.” 

Wayne snorted and shook his head as they stopped at the exit onto the main road. “Fair enough,” he said, pulling on his own belt. “So does this story start at the lab, or with that poor dead girl in our trailer?” 

Eddie gulped. “At the lab,” he said. “It starts with the other kids.” He proceeded to tell a long and complicated story about the first boy they’d brought to that awful place, the Creel murders, a hellish version of Hawkins stuck in 1983, and a group of ragtag kids who’d stood against it all. Of which, Eddie was now one.

“And this portal to hell... It’s in our trailer?” Wayne asked. They had to go the long way around Hawkins to get to his motel, now that the earthquake had cut gouges through the center of town. 

“There was one at each murder site. At least, I assume. I only saw the ones in the lake and our trailer.” He got real quiet, then sadly said, “I guess there’s four now.” 

“‘Cause the earthquake was Victor Creel’s son killing his final victim and opening a big... What’d you call it?” 

“Gate. Mega gate, maybe? Yeah.” He pulled his legs up and tucked his chin against his knees. “Poor Max.”

“Susan’s little girl? I heard she got caught in the earthquake. You’re saying she was caught up in the middle of this?” 

Eddie nodded and wiped his eyes. “She was supposed to distract Vecna—Henry—into attacking her so the other three could attack him while he was in a trance.” He sniffed. “‘Cept if the earthquake happened then he must’ve got her.”

“Heard she was hurt pretty bad, yeah,” Wayne said. “Bunch of broken bones. Her mom’s been up with her at Hawkins General since it happened.” 

“Wait,” Eddie said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “She’s in the hospital? She’s alive?” 

“Last I heard, yeah,” Wayne said. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie said softly. “That’s amazing. I thought he’d killed her. So... Maybe there’s still some hope.” 

They parked at the motel in front of Wayne’s room. He put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and kept him from leaving the truck. “Now, let me get some things straight. You didn’t tell them ‘bout your own time in the lab?”

Eddie shook his head. “I mean, I can’t move shit with my mind and or read people’s thoughts or open portals to hell. I can change my age, and I can’t control when I do it. It’s like I’ve got the shittiest version of Mystique going for me here. How was that going to be helpful?” 

“It’s helpful now,” Wayne said. “No one’s gonna look at you and think that you’re Eddie Munson, devil incarnate.” 

“But I didn’t do it on purpose. I tried! When they told me about the manhunt. It didn’t work. I still don’t know how it worked.” Eddie sighed heavily. “So no, I didn’t tell them, ‘cause what proof did I have? Not like I even have numbers on my arm anymore, after that first shift.” 

“And you still want to go back now? Eddie, we can leave. Just, drive on out of Hawkins. Find somewhere new, change our last name, let you start over.” 

Eddie frowned, with his nose scrunching up in disgust. “And go through high school all over again? No thank you. Six years is long enough.” 

“Come on, Ed. Be serious.” Wayne held his hands out. “This is dangerous, boy. You’re talking monsters and evil wizards. If I hadn’t seen your own little bit of magic before, I’d think it was one of your terrible games. How many times does your group actually win those?” 

“They win sometimes. They get lucky,” Eddie said, scratching his nose and looking out the window. “I mean, they only lose ‘cause I’m making it hard for them.” 

“And you think anyone’s gonna make it easy for you now?” Wayne grabbed Eddie’s arm and shook him a little. “This ain’t your game, boy. You ain’t in charge now, and you already nearly died once.”

“It’s not just me, Wayne,” Eddie snapped, pulling his arm back. “It’s my friends. They’re still fighting and they need all the help they can get. So, I’m staying, even if I have to stay here as a fucking toddler.” He gestured at himself. “Even like this, I’m not the youngest one there. Erica’s eleven and she’s ready to stab Vecna all by herself.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Wayne muttered. He pulled a pack of Camels out of his pocket and tapped one out. “Where are the parents of all these kids?” 

Eddie shrugged. “Trying to keep them at home and away from the dangerous satanic murderer on the loose, from what I hear.” He looked at the cigarette thoughtfully. “Can I have one?” 

Wayne laughed as he pulled out his lighter. “Hell no. You’ve got brand new lungs in that chest, and I’m not about to let you ruin ‘em.” 

“Damn,” he said. “Guess I’ll sit here and enjoy the secondhand smoke, then.” 

“Do none of their parents know what’s going on?” 

“Nope.” Eddie slouched down in the seat, putting his knees up on the dash. “Honest to god, I was the oldest one there. We were all following Nancy Wheeler’s lead, which. Well, if you met her, you’d understand.”

“Oh, I did,” he said. “She came and talked to me on that first day. Seemed like a real smart cookie.” 

“I think Joyce Byers knows, but she’s out in California. You remember when her boy went missing back in ‘83? Yeah, he got stuck in the Upside Down and they had to rescue him. And the old police chief knew, but he died.”

“In the mall fire, I remember.” Wayne nodded.

“Wasn’t a mall fire. I mean, it was, eventually, but it was also monsters and another gate and a fucking Russian military incursion.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Sir, I am not,” Eddie said, raising his hand with the three middle fingers up and the thumb holding down his pinky. “Scout’s honor.” 

Wayne snorted and swatted his hand. “You were never a Boy Scout, put that away. Snarky little shit.”

Eddie grinned. “Got that from you, y’know.” He played with the zipper on his coat. “So yeah. No adults. Just a bunch of high school freshmen and their babysitters against a world-ending evil. They need all the help they can get. Also, you saw Dustin. I can’t leave him thinking I’m dead dead, can I?” He stopped his fidgeting and gave Wayne a little smile. “That’s not how you raised me.” 

Wayne took a deep drag off his cigarette and stared out the windshield while he savored it. “Damn it,” he muttered. “All right. Let’s figure out how to play this.” 

He told Eddie how a bunch of suits had pulled him out of the trailer and put him up in this motel. “At first, I was worried that they’d figured out you were at Hawkins Lab. Ten years gone and thought we were free of ‘em, but these looked like agents. Then all this shit with the manhunt in town happened, and it made sense for me to lay low. Still don’t know why no one stopped it. Useless assholes.” 

“I mean, they still might be from Hawkins Lab.” 

“Oh, no doubt they are,” Wayne said. “Or whatever shady government agency took over when that lab ‘shut down’. What I mean is, I figure they’ve got the whole place bugged. I combed my truck for ‘em and didn’t find none, but there’s only so much I can do to a motel room ‘fore they kick me out for being a nuisance.” 

“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered. “So what do we do?” 

Wayne chuckled. “Can’t have them listening in and hearing your squeaky little voice in there, can’t we? You sound like your balls ain’t dropped yet.” 

Eddie groaned and gave him a weak punch in the arm. “I know,” he said. “This is fucking embarrassing. Okay, so I stay in the truck. And you?” 

“Well, after the news I got today, I was gonna pack up all my things and get the hell outta Dodge.” He finished off his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. “Still thinking it might be good to look like I’ve done that. You got a place we can go?” 

“I...” Eddie groaned and rubbed his face. “I have no idea. I don’t remember that part of the plan.”

“Well, you wait here and think of something while I go pack up.” He grabbed his duffel bag from under Eddie’s feet, then leaned over to smooth back his boy’s hair. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’t ya Ed?” 

“Yeah, Uncle Wayne,” he said, leaning into Wayne’s touch. “I’ll be here.”