#being the only one strong enough to kill those closest to you?!?

[genericdre]

Do you ever think about just how absolutely depressed Gojo is and want to bash your fist into the brick wall

[daisynik7]

you’re killing me with all this angst!! 😭 any possible unrequited but happy ending with Eren when you have the time and will? Or just anything fluffy really, just to put a dinosaur print bandaid on all the broken hearts 😭

🎶 You've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy of my dreams. 🎶

Title: Dream Boy

Pairing: jock!Eren x shy!reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: unrequited crush, fluff, college au

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Eren Jaeger for a while now. He’s the captain of your university’s swim team who also happens to be a fellow engineering major, like you. For months, you’ve admired from afar, letting yourself daydream about being his girlfriend. But that’s all it is: fantasy. Until one day, when you’re invited to a beach outing with friends, and he happens to be there too. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request, anon! Going with a common trope here, hope you don’t mind! I’ve always been a sucker for popular jock x shy nerd, so I hope you like this one! Also, fair warning, I have never surfed in my life, and I had to do some research on this, so major apologies if I got any of these details wrong, please don’t be mean to me LOL. Title is inspired by the song "Dream Boy" by Beach Bunny! Listen if you want to set the mood right. Divider credit to @/saradika.

With the weather getting warmer and the sun shining brighter, a trip to the beach sounds like the perfect idea to get away. Midterms just ended and finals are fast approaching in a few weeks. This is the only weekend when it makes sense to relax before you have to start the grind once more.  

It’s your roommate, Sasha, who originally plans this little weekend getaway. When you’re not too busy studying, you’re hanging out with her. She’s become your closest friend since you first lived with her freshman year, always friendly and making the effort to include you in all her social affairs, even when you decline so often. Through her, you met Mikasa and Annie, who have been nothing but kind to you, despite having strong personalities. You’re excited to get to know them even better by going on this trip with them.

With Annie’s car packed with all of your belongings, the four of you set out on the hour-long journey. Mikasa offered her parent’s beach house to stay at which works out perfectly for broke college students. Using your meal plans, you collectively purchased enough snacks and beverages to last the next two nights. So far, everything is working out swimmingly. 

You arrive to your destination, stoked to be spending the weekend with the beach as your backyard. Mikasa points out the other car parked in the driveway, groaning. “Oh no. Eren’s here. And he probably brought the rest of the boys.”

Sasha turns to face her. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“That’s his car. And those are their surfboards on the rack. They’re definitely here.”

Your roommate directs her question at you. “Are you okay with this?”

You smile, a little taken aback that you’ll be sharing a home with a few strangers, but fine overall. “Yeah, should be fun. By the way, who’s Eren?”

“Eren Jaeger, my brother.”

Upon hearing his full name, you do your best to swallow the strangled noise in your throat, playing it cool. Eren Jaeger? Captain of the school’s swim team? Fellow engineering student and your classmate for two of your current courses, three last semester? The guy you’ve had the hugest crush on since you first laid eyes on him freshmen year, when you used to live a floor above him? That Eren Jaeger? 

“Oh, cool,” you say, totally not meaning it. Still, you have to keep your composure. Knowing this information has you feeling self-conscious. You didn’t pack your best clothes, under the impression this was just a girl’s trip. And you realize that he might see you in your swimsuit, which you’re horrified about. Internally, you’re freaking out, unprepared for this recent development. You contemplate calling a taxi, faking an illness to avoid any possible embarrassment you’ll display in front of him. Before you can, Sasha drags you into the house, both your bags in hand, announcing your arrival. “Eren! We know you’re in here!”

Mikasa and Annie follow, carrying the rest of the luggage with them, inspecting the house. “Hey, Jaeger. Get out here,” Annie demands.

He strolls in from one of the hallways, hair down, in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, slides on his feet. Looking as cool and attractive as ever. You hide behind Sasha, cheeks already hot. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks Mikasa, placing a hair tie between his lips, fingers running through his hair to put it up in a ponytail. 

“Carla and Grisha said I could use the house for the weekend. What are you doing here?”

“Brought the boys to surf and chill. I guess I should have asked Mom and Dad first.” He shrugs, unfazed.

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “You should have told me you were coming. I have guests.”

He glances at the rest of you. “So? It’s just Sasha and Annie. What’s the big deal?”

“My roommate’s here too!” Sasha mentions, stepping aside to reveal you. “And it’s weird sharing a house with boys!” 

You give him a small wave, a weak grin on your face. “Hello.”

He steps towards you, squinting as if he’s studying you carefully. “Hey! It’s you!”

You blurt out a confused, “Huh?”

He says your full name, shocking you further, before he continues. “You’re in my class. Physics and Materials Science, right?”

You’re surprised that he recognizes you, that he even knows your name. Up until this point, you were convinced that you were invisible to him. You nod, momentarily speechless when he smiles at you. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. We can leave if you want us to.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Annie comments, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Before anyone else can speak, you say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to leave.” If you’re going to grow up and move on from this crush, you can’t chicken out on things like this. And besides, you don’t want to be the one person who ruins all the fun. 

“Are you sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just an hour drive. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

He grins. “As long as you’re okay with this.”

Mikasa, on the other hand, says, “Well, what if I’m not okay with this.”

“Fine. Then you be the one to kick out Jean. He was really looking forward to surfing today.” At the mention of that name, Mikasa blushes, not responding. The rest of you girls have an idea about Mikasa’s crush on Jean, so it’s not surprising when she doesn’t pester Eren anymore. Even Annie’s eyes light up when Armin comes out of one of the rooms, greeting you. 

After settling in, everyone gathers in the living room, planning what to do next. Collectively, you agree to head outside to relax on the beach while the boys surf. You try to contain your excitement at seeing Eren in a skin-tight body suit, holding onto the giant board, hair tied in a messy bun like a male model for Billabong. 

You lay towels and blankets all around the sand, setting up umbrellas to block out the blistering sun. Annie dumps all the snacks in the middle, while the four of you stretch out comfortably. You hide yourself under a towel, self-conscious about in a bathing suit in front of Eren, who probably doesn’t notice anyways. 

Sasha plays music on her Bluetooth speaker while you and Mikasa open your books, reading. Annie watches a movie on her phone, headphones plugged in. An hour later, Eren comes running up from the shore, dripping with ocean water, hair matted, still gorgeous. He glances at you first, flashing his brilliant smile. “Hey, do you want to try?” He knocks his fist against the surfboard, waiting for your answer.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. In fact, I think I’ll be very, very bad at it,” you admit.

“It’s okay. I can just show you how to sit on it. We won’t actually ride the big waves. You know how to swim, right?”

You nod, placing your book in your bag. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially since it means quality time with him. However, you can’t help but feel nervous, expecting to make a fool of yourself. Sasha encourages you. “You should go try it! It’ll be fun.”

Mikasa adds, “Yeah, Eren is surprisingly a good teacher.”

Convinced, you stand up, hesitantly letting the towel fall to expose yourself in your swimsuit. You avoid his gaze, too flustered worrying about what he thinks of you. He leads the way to the shore, you following close behind him. The rest of the guys sit on the sand next to their boards, chatting. When they see you, they wave, giving you some motivating thumbs up. 

Eren turns to face you, pausing. “First, you have to attach the leash.” He squats down, hands near your foot, peering up at you. “Do you mind?”

Unaware of what the leash even is, you remain calm, trying to ignore your excitement with him this close to your bare skin. “Go ahead.”

He wraps the Velcro around your ankle, fingers brushing against you delicately. He readjusts it three times, asking on the third, “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you answer, still staring out towards the sea, unable to meet his gaze.

He stands back up to explain the basics of surfing. It’s all too much to retain in a short amount of time, but you listen and appreciate how well he describes each step, memorizing the most important details. 

“We should practice getting on the board first before we enter,” he suggests, placing it flat on the sand, beckoning you to get on it. “Just lay on it, face down, and get used to how it feels against your body.” You get down, pressing your stomach to the deck, gripping to the sides. 

“Good job.” He squats again, level with you. “Once we’re in the water, you’re gonna want to move fast. You have to push the board forward against the force of the waves, then quickly hop on. It might be a little tough, but I know you can do it. The waves are strong, so if you can’t get the timing right, make sure you lift your board up with the peak and hold on tight, so that you don’t get dragged with it.”

You nod, getting increasingly anxious. With the information locked in your brain, you follow Eren into the ocean, board floating steadily on the surface, your hand on the center. He isn’t exaggerating; the waves are intense, even the tiny ones close to shore. Once you are waist deep, Eren, who’s farther away from you now, turns up the volume of his voice louder, cupping one hand around his mouth, the other pointing to the incoming wave. “It’s coming!”

It approaches fast, almost too quickly. Before you know it, the force drags you backwards, falling in. Wet from head to toe now, you resurface, grabbing the board to reposition yourself, grasping both the tail and the deck, remembering his instructions from earlier. 

“Are you okay?” he yells out, concerned.

“Yeah!” you respond, preparing for the next one. With more determination and confidence, you push forward, hopping on successfully when the wave rushes in. 

“Great job!” he exclaims from behind you. Your chest swells with adrenaline and pride. There’s no time to waste as the next wave approaches. The next task is to straddle. You get in a push-up pose, grasping the side rails. It’s not enough though; it slides out from under you, knocking you back, a stream of salty water flushing your nose causing you to choke momentarily. Eren ruses over as fast as he can, waddling in the water, worried. “Are you okay?”

You laugh, an electrifying buzz coursing through your body. “Yeah! Let me try again.”

He smiles brightly, amused by your resolve. “Okay. Hold on really tight and make sure to slide the board slightly forward as you sit up.”

It takes you a couple more tries, salt water now burning your nose and throat, until you finally manage to straddle the board. You raise your fists in the air, turning your neck to face him. “I did it!”

Beaming, mimicking your celebratory gesture, he happily yells, “You did!” When the waves come, you and the board flow with it, bobbing up and down on the water. After minutes of struggling, covered in sweat, dripping with ocean water, you finally feel at peace. You enjoy riding a few more waves, dehydration slowly sinking in, surely from all the salt you’ve unintentionally swallowed. You glance at Eren, who’s watching you from a short distance away. “I think I’m good for the day! I need some water.”

He walks over, standing next to you. “Oh yeah, definitely. Great job, by the way. That was awesome seeing you like that.” He pats you gently on your knee, grinning. 

You giggle. “Thank you. So, uh, how do I get off this thing?”

“Well, this is going to the last thing I teach you, okay? You’re going to paddle out and towards the shore. Think you can do it?”

With whatever leftover determination you have, you nod, leaning your chest down to the board. He helps you readjust yourself so that you’re facing the sands. “The wave is coming! Get ready to paddle!”

Like a dog trying to swim, you flail your arms as if your life depends on it, successfully riding the wave until it comes to a stop on the shore. Armin, Connie, and Jean, witnessing this still sat in the same spot, cheer. When you stand up, your equilibrium is all off, losing balance. Luckily, Eren runs up to catch you, steadying you. “That was awesome. You did so good!”

Catching your breath, tired from all the physical exertion and adrenaline, you breathe out, “Thank you,” giving him a weak smile. The two of you walk to the rest of your friends, Eren’s hand on your back, in case you lose balance again. As you approach the girls, they applaud, beaming with joy. 

“That was epic!” Sasha exclaims, handing you a water bottle. 

Suddenly, he’s gripping your shoulders, squeezing affectionately. “She’s the best. Never gave up, totally committed.” He turns his head to look at you, voice lower, speaking directly to you. “You were really great out there. I mean it. I never doubted you for a second. You’re the smartest person in class, so I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.”  

His last statement almost leaves you speechless. Voice trembling from exhaustion and his kind words, you reply, “Thank you. You’re a really great teacher.”

He gazes at you, seemingly forever, sliding his hands down to your elbows, lingering for just a moment longer until he lets you go. Clearing his throat, he announces, “I’m going to catch a few more waves with the guys. I’ll see y’all later.” Is it your imagination or is there a slight blush on his cheeks? It’s most likely from the sun, so you disregard it, not wanting to get your hopes up. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing beside your friends, like you had originally planned. The novel you started earlier is open in your hands, your mind definitely not focused on the words. Instead, you daydream about Eren, relishing what just occurred. All those times in class, fantasizing about different scenarios with him, always convinced that nothing would ever happen. Now, you can’t help letting your imagination run rampant. Still, when you all pack up to take the short trip back to the house, you let those fantasies disappear. There’s no way he feels anything for you beyond friendship. And you’ll just have to live with that. 

Later in the night, with everyone sun-kissed and clean from beach residue, you collectively decide to get cozy in your pajamas. Mikasa ignites the fire pit out on the balcony, perfect for the cool breeze. When four boxes of pizza are delivered, the eight of you huddle around the flames, enjoying the meal as you laugh at the stories being shared. Connie tells a hilarious tale about him and Jean streaking in the dead of night for a dare that resulting in almost exposing themselves to the university’s president. Annie mentions her roommate, Hitch, and how she slapped a creeper at a frat party, who wouldn’t stop annoying her. Sasha asks for advice on how to approach her crush, Nicolo, the young chef at the campus cafeteria who makes her breakfast burritos especially tasty. 

After a while, Eren suggests, “How about some s’mores? I brought the ingredients to make them. What do you say?”

Everyone hums in agreement. He directs his attention to you. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”

You obliged, surprised that he chose you specifically. Following him, you slide the door closed, quiet inside the house except for the muffled voices of your friends outside. In the kitchen, he reaches up for one of the cabinets, grabbing two bags of marshmallows, two big bricks of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. In another drawer, he retrieves metal sticks to roast the marshmallows. In the meantime, you search for a large baking tray, eventually retrieving it from the oven. “Maybe we can set everything up on here so that It’s easier.”

He smiles at you. “Good idea.”

At the counter, you start unwrapping the chocolate, breaking them into sectioned pieces. Eren does the same with the graham crackers, the two of you working beside each other in a comfortable silence. Halfway through, he asks, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun! Thank you again. I really had a blast.”

“I did too. It was a lot of fun hanging out with you today.”

“Maybe next time, I can actually learn how to surf for real,” you say, not thinking anything of it. 

He leans closer to you, arm brushing yours as you lay out the chocolate on the pan. “Yeah, next time.”

It’s silent again. You finish the chocolate, washing your hands clean to move on to the marshmallows. One bag in your hand, the other in Eren’s. “So, um, do you have a boyfriend or something?”

This catches you off guard. “No, I don’t.”

“Cool, cool, cool. I’m single too. In case you were wondering.” You’ve never heard this type of nervous energy in his voice before. It’s unusual to hear him like this. You’re unsure how to respond, unprepared for where this conversation is possibly heading. 

“Well, if you ever need someone to study with, I’m always available. The season is over, and I get tired of my teammates sometimes,” he says with a laugh.

“Do you want to study with me?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“I’d like to do a lot of things with you, actually.” There’s an undeniable blush on his cheeks as he pours the remaining marshmallows onto the tray. This can’t be just a sunburn, can it? 

Butterflies flutter in your belly. You look at him, smiling. You can’t chicken out now. Not when he’s giving you this chance, this opportunity. You need to go for it. “Can I be honest with you?”

He faces you, eager. “Of course.”

Sucking in a deep breath for this leap of faith, you confess. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since freshman year.”

His smile widens, brilliant teeth on display. “What? When we used to live at Reiss?”

“You remember?” Your mouth hangs open, shocked that he recalls living in the same dorm as you. 

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “You’re a hard one to forget.”

“I thought I was invisible.”

He shifts closer, tipping his head to meet your eyes. “Not to me.”

You face him, understanding that he’s always noticed you. He leans forward, lips inches from yours. “Can I be honest with you, too?” You nod, desperate to hear what he has to say.

Even closer now, lips grazing your ear, breath ticklish on your skin, he whispers, “I really like you. I’ve always been too nervous to do anything. I thought you’d only see me as a dumb jock.”

Immediately, you pull back, replying, “Never! I never thought that of you! I think you’re so smart.”

He laughs, eyes crinkled with admiration. “I think you’re so smart, too. And really, really cute.” 

You stare at each other for a moment, wishing this would last forever. Wanting to pinch yourself to confirm this is real. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” The pink hue on his cheeks gradually turns into a red.

A little too eager, you respond, “Yes!”, resulting in him giggling again, pressing his forehead to yours. The contact sets your skin on fire, body tingling with a different type of adrenaline than from earlier. With your eyes shut, you close the gap, lips brushing seamlessly into a delicate kiss. His hand slides behind your neck, sending you shivers as he pulls you in closer.

Suddenly, there’s loud banging on the sliding door, startling you two apart. Mikasa and Annie have their fists on the glass, yelling out something incoherent, Armin tugging on their sleeves in an attempt to stop them. Connie, Jean, and Sasha holler with huge grins on their faces. 

Eren laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, smiling at him. 

You gaze at each other for another couple of seconds, cherishing this special moment before returning outside to your friends, carrying the goods. They all talk at once, hyped about what they just witnessed, berating you with loads of questions and advice. You and Eren sit beside each other, politely redirecting each inquiry and comment until your friends get tired of non-answers, eventually changing the subject. He lays out a warm blanket for the both of you, legs covered, knees touching while everyone begins to roast their marshmallows.

By the time the s’mores are completely assembled, mouths sticky and full of ooey-gooey sweetness, you and Eren munch on your treats happily, holding hands beneath the blanket. 

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

On Gale and patriarchy/toxic masculinity

I really want to do a reading and analysis of Gale's character as upholding patriarchal values and expectations of toxic masculinity because this stuck out to me as I listened to the CF audiobook before bed last night. From chapter 1 of CF:

I think of Gale, who is only really alive in the woods, with its fresh air and sunlight and clean, flowing water. I don't know how he stands it. Well ... yes, I do. He stands it because it's the way to feed his mother and two younger brothers and sister. And here I am with buckets of money, far more than enough to feed both our families now, and he won't take a single coin. It's even hard for him to let me bring in meat, although he'd surely have kept my mother and Prim supplied if I'd been killed in the Games. I tell him he's doing me a favor, that it drives me nuts to sit around all day. Even so, I never drop off the game while he's at home. Which is easy since he works twelve hours a day. 

Highlighted the part that really made my ears perk up. There's something to be said about Gale's stubbornness and his pride, which is very similar to Katniss's but he always takes it another step. Whereas Katniss learns to accept others' help, to forge these connections, Gale doesn't. It's giving "I'm the man and this is my job." For someone who wants nothing more than to help keep his family alive, it's weird that he refuses any help.

At first I thought maybe he doesn't want her money because it's from the Capitol and he despises it that much but she says it's hard for him to even have her bring meat in from hunting. Which points to his pride. He wants to be the provider. The one taking care of her. And it leaves Katniss in a kinda tricky place. It's like she's walking on eggshells around him here - purposely not dropping off game at his house when he's there.

Compare that with Peeta (which as a reader, like Katniss, you end up doing when either of these two guys come up) and it's so different. We know Peeta is strong and smart etc. He's not a hunter but he's also still a provider (of bread). And he has his own pride too. But going through the Games, Peeta and Katniss have a balanced push and pull. She helps him, he helps her. She takes care of him, he takes care of her. When he's hurt, he lets Katniss help him. He's not too proud to try and do it himself. Same with Katniss. She lets him take care of her when she needs it. And this is something they learn from the Games, particularly Katniss; how to accept help from others. And we see her development in this over the course of the trilogy.

Gale is interesting in that I really think he is one of the characters in the books who really doesn't grow as such. In my mind, he's rooted in place in many ways. From his ideals, to his thoughts, to his strategies, to his actions, he doesn't really develop much. He has moments - but a lot of those moments are tied to wanting to apologise to or be better for Katniss (and still he comes up short). I'm thinking of the moment where he makes her feel bad for defending her prep team in 13 and then later tries to smooth things over in the canteen by being kind. I believe that's something he did only for Katniss. She's his motivation to be different (but turns out that's not enough still.)

I'll maybe build on this another time but this passage made me think of what he says when he sees Katniss after Prim's death. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it... That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family." Instead of apologising for helping to create such bombs, instead of asking for forgiveness, instead of crying with her, instead of expressing his sorrow and regret at what's happened, this is all he's able to say. Which is odd to me. To not even try to comfort your supposed closest friend at such a time. To say that's all you had going for you? It's this relationship of transaction. 'I take care of your family and hunt with you so you should end up marring me.' I really don't think that's far from what Gale expected.

I think there's even more to say about Gale as a patriarchal character but I've rambled on enough at this point. But his attitude and perspective throughout the book, while aligned with that of a traumatised young adult in the midst of oppression, also aligns heavily with patriarchal constructs. The way he thinks of war and people and human relationships, the way he thinks of fighting and death, and the way he thinks of doing whatever you have to do to achieve your end, no matter what happens or who gets hurt in pursuit of it. If anyone has any reading on Gale in these areas I'd be so interested in it!

[a-reverii]

▸ YANDERE KAZ BREKKER HEADCANNONS

⋮ content warning ━ ꒰ stalking ; kidnapping ; murder ; drugging ; mentions of death ; mentions of heists & thievery ; brief strong language ; no pronouns for reader ; etc. based off this request. ꒱

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When Kaz realizes his feelings for you, at first, he wants nothing more than to bury them far below the ground and to forget about them. After all, he's Dirtyhands — Bastard of the Barrel and the closest thing there'd ever to be its king. He doesn't have the luxury of exploring how much further these feeling for you go — not when his entire focus is on getting revenge from Pekka Rollins and making enough kruge to swim in.

So he keeps his feelings hidden, buried deep within the most obscure crevices of his heart. And this works, for a time. Kaz is no stranger to ignoring his emotions, and focusing on his wealth and his revenge has never been a foreign concept to him.

That is, until you get hurt — which, in a place such as Ketterdam, is inevitable.

From there on out, Kaz realizes how important you truly are to him. And, although he'd rather pull his eye out than admit his true feelings, he learns to accept them.

You're a weakness, but one he can't afford to lose.

He remembers how distraught he'd been over Jordie's death vividly, remembers it all too well. He didn't intend on you being a repeat of his brother, even if Jordie's death was only a result of the boy's own naivety.

Kaz begins to slowly remove you from the more dangerous tasks, instead opting hire other members of the Dregs to take your place on most expeditions and heists. He doesn't want you to know of his plans — not yet, and he was no stranger to waiting.

He starts to have some members of the Dregs keep track of you and tell him of your daily activities. It was necessary, he'd argue, to ensure that you remain safe if he wasn't there to protect you, and in Ketterdam, the more eyes he had on you, the better.

Kaz also begins to watch you whenever he can. Some would call it deranged, and maybe it is, but he couldn't care less. All that matters is that he knows where you are at all times, whether you yourself know it or not.

Anyone who he deems a threat, Kaz kills in cold blood, whatever the reason may be. Someone who so much as looks at you for too long may be put in peril, and he isn't past hurting, maiming, and blackmailing to get the message across that you're off limits.

If Kaz were to decide to kidnap you, it would be after much planning and careful consideration. He knows you'd be mad. He knows you'd be scared out of your mind — that you'd be scared of him. But you'd be safe; he'd make sure of that. And if you're safe, what else truly mattered?

Kaz is certain to make sure that you're unconscious when he takes you, but takes some chloroform in the case that you wake up. He isn't particularly keen on taking any chances, especially with you. If he sees you stir, he won't hesitate to place a rag over your mouth to keep you asleep. There wasn't any room for mistake in his plan.

When you awake, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. For the most part, that is. Items of yours or those that bare an eerie likeness to your own items are scattered about the room, all in a very clean fashion. In fact, the more you stare, the more you find that the room looks almost like your own. The bedsheets are the same color as your own ones, the layout quite similar, too. Though you'd never had much of a say in how your last bedroom appeared, it chilled you down to your core to think of why this one seemed to be a recreation of yours.

When you first see Kaz, you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the look he gives you makes you shudder instead. Whatever reason you had woken up in a bed that wasn't your own in a room that wasn't your own, wasn't good if he was involved.

If you're terrified of him, Kaz doesn't seem to care. In fact, he's so indifferent to your plight that sometimes you wonder if the real reason he took you was because he loved you, but you weren't in any position to ask.

Kaz isn't one for physical affection, so instead he prefers to spoil you with anything you want. His methods of getting certain items aren't always conventional, or legal, for that matter, but he's never been one for following the rules.

It's nearly impossible to escape wherever he brings you. Being the master of lock-picking, Kaz is sure to make every lock fool-proof, to reinforce every door. On top of this, he ensures that no one knows of the location to which he takes you, even if he has to bloody his hands to make sure that he's the only one with the knowledge. As it was said: Kaz doesn't like taking chances, especially with you.

Now, this being said, if you do manage to escape, Kaz will go into something of a manic frenzy. He'd done nearly everything to stop you from escaping, and yet you still managed to slip from his grasp.

From there on out he'd spend all of his time searching for you, the rest of his duties be damned. He'd made a promise to himself that he wouldn't lose you — not like he lost Jordie — and he wasn't planning on breaking it.

It wouldn't take long for him to find you. Whether you were still in the woods or whatever deserted land he'd situated the house in, or you'd managed to make it back to the city, rest assured, you'd be found.

"Try to leave again, and I'll break your fucking neck."

It wasn't true, of course. Kaz couldn't harm a hair on your head — not if he tried. But he wasn't above other measures that included hurting the people you loved and scaring you out of your wits, so it was best to simply let yourself believe his lie.

Overall, Kaz is most likely one of, if not the most dangerous person in all of Ketterdam to have an obsession with you. They say he'd do anything for money, but what he'd do just to have you couldn't even compare. He's not past killing everyone you've ever known just to make you compliant, and maybe he even finds some sick joy in it — your fear, your utter desperation. He revels in it.

But, at the very least he'll keep you safe, and at the end of the day, that's what everyone in Ketterdam wants, isn't it?

After all, he'd always told you he protects his investments.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown, round 1 of bracket one

Several different versions of Zorro were submitted, I decided to count them as one guy. I don't know enough about him to judge if there are any significant differences between those versions.

Propaganda:

For Zhou Zishu:

he has a magical sword that bends called a whip sword! he keeps it around his slutty waist! it's one of three legendary magical swords made by the (formerly) immortal "ghost hand" swordsmith! his love interest uses it to make dick jokes!

he's an unmatched swordsman that created and led a secret assasin organization and then he retired to get drunk and be gay. he's never lost a fight unless he was at ½ or less of his power (he got terminally ill for a hot second) and the only person that compares to his skill is his husband, the former leader of the ghost valley. he's so babygirl and so gorgeous and so swordy.

he's got a special little bendy sword and he's my girlfriend (don't tell his husband)

He's already super dangerous with just his hands and random objects he picks up (from a stone Buddha statue he throws at a bunch of assailants in early chapters to flinging a clothes button right /through/ a man's wrist), but once he pulls out a sword, you know it's for real. He's gonna disarm a dozen people in a few seconds - as in, literally, he cut off a bunch of people's arms because they were trying to kill his bf, - or cut a "十" into someone's throat. He's especially hot... ahem, proficient with his personal sword, Baiyi, which is a soft sword - allowing it to pass defenses by bending in motion. Very fitting for a sneaky assassin & spy like Zhou Zishu!

For Zorro:

Has been an iconic swordsman for over half a century. Ask any Spanish-speaking person and they'd tell you how loved he is. Has strong bisexual energy regardless of which version of him you're watching. His mask is very cool.

An entire arc is just him wondering about the risk/benefit balance of coming out (being able to openly be with the one he loves, but at the cost of lifelong danger for himself and everyone who associates with him). The inherent queerness of secret identities. The also inherent queerness of hiding your real self and opinions from everyone except your closest friend, only for your parent to later admit they knew about it for a long time and just waited for you to be ready to tell them. The swordiness? Being one of the best swordsmen around is fundamental to every version of Zorro. He's so famously known for being good with a sword that One Piece translators were worried their Zoro character would be mixed up with him so they changed that other guy's name to Zolo.

Zorro = Fox in Spanish

All you need is a gif of him making the 'Z' with his sword

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! I wanna request ror characters with sweet and kind reader who secretly holds then power of a powerful demon that could give any god a run fir their money.

Reader was meant to be the host of this demon and their personality and memories were meant to be forgotten as the demon took a hold of their body. But something went wrong and instead the demon became trapped while reader got its powers. Basically reader was tricked by their friend and was scarified to a cults deity but lived

Reader is basically an average person and just wants to live life gently but when the gods started to make a fuss and threatened humanity the gloves was off. Reader ends up takeing zeus odin and all the strong ones whose names I cant remember into a terror dimension and reminds them that there were many who would do anything to protect their love ones and reader is fully willing to become a demon and erase them from exsitance if the foolish gods push them enough.

-It was a secret you kept close, not wanting to lose anyone else to it, mainly because those closest to you betrayed you for the secret you held.

-You were the vessel for a very powerful demon, one whose name was long forgotten, something you had been ‘blessed’ with when you were back on earth after the gods fought this demon, sealing him away.

-They didn’t realize however, where they were sealing him, and you were blessed with the same powers and strength, and for a while, people worshipped you as a hero, as you would use those abilities to help others, which is all that you wanted to do.

-However, their adoration soon turned to fear, realizing that you were so different from them, and with fear came hatred and they drove you out.

-You traveled the world, your life prolonged due to what you housed, helping where you could, never staying in one place for too long.

-You had thought you found a safe place, people who respected your powers and abilities, and you gained friends, people you grew close to.

-Only for them to betray you just like the others, sacrificing you to the demon you held in your body. As that place that you thought was safe was a cult.

-You died and ascended to Valhalla, with the demon still a part of you, causing that cult to fall to ruin as they essentially killed the very being they were trying to worship.

-You were so happy in Valhalla, being able to live in peace, helping others, and nobody cared what you could do.

-Only a fair few knew what you could do, and you mostly kept to yourself, to not draw attention to yourself.

-When Ragnarok was announced, you were in tears, hearing how cruel the gods were, the same ones who put this demon inside of you, how they were willing to just wipe out humanity on a whim.

-This angered you, and the demon you housed, feeling your anger, offered his powers to you, willing to help you again.

-You and your demon had an agreement- you would willingly let him have control a few times a month to run around and have fun, and he wouldn’t hurt others while in control.

-He whispered in your ear, like he was there, “We can fix this- put those gods in their place. We won’t hurt them, just scare them a- just a little~” you knew his tone, he wasn’t planning on just ‘a little’ but you agreed, not willing to risk so many lives.

-When Ragnarok was about to begin, the gods who were going to be fighting had a meeting, going to discuss who was going to go first.

-A wave of power and dread seemed to flow over them and Zeus and Odin, who had been responsible for seal your partner away inside you, instantly stood, feeling that power.

-You entered, looking unassuming, looking just like a normal human and Poseidon stood, “Who dares enter this place?” your smile was soft, gentle, but your eyes were hard, “I have someone who would like to speak with you.”

-In a blink of an eye, they found themselves in a dark place, screams and terrifying visions everywhere as you approached, looking more demonic, a blend of both you and D/N.

-Your voice was no longer just your own, it was a blend of both, it sounded not only unsettling, but angry, “I have the power to destroy all of you now- thanks to your failure of making sure I was truly sealed. You have a choice- to end Ragnarok now or face your own destruction.”

-Being shown such terrifying images and feeling your power around them, nearly suffocating them, proving that what you said was true, was enough to make them quickly bend to your will.

-As soon as Zeus and Odin agreed, in another blink of an eye, they were back in the room, completely fine, and you looking normal, like a harmless little human.

-Eyes quickly went to you as you spoke, “Just because you fail to manage others doesn’t make it right for you to just get rid of them. Make it right.” With your last sentence you made the room tremble, just to make your point.

-You walked out, “Think they got the message?” the demon chuckled in your ear again, “Of course they did. Now let’s sit back and watch.”

-By lunchtime the tournament had been called off, much tot the shock of Brunnhilde and the warriors of humanity, but they seemed pleased to see that the gods were going to be gods now, proper ones- who were now going to manage humanity better.

-Many were none the wiser that you were the cause of this newfound peace. And the gods you had threatened kept eyes on you but were stunned to see what a gentle person you were, nothing unlike the demon they had fought years ago.

-You seemed to be one with the demon in your body- like you were two beings in one body, sharing it, but even if you looked like a harmless human- you were anything but, and they knew that they wouldn’t be able to fight back, even if they all joined forces and fought together- there was no chance of ever challenging you.

-However, keeping you happy seemed to be the simplest route, and they kept you happy by not threatening humanity and managing things better.

[bloodwrittenballad]

Rotten Work | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You never break a promise

Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood and injuries, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, not proofread!! first time writing for the ol’ wet rat man, i love him

Izzy didn’t want to be seen.

Scratch that, he just didn’t want to be seen by you.

After the “incident” with Blackbeard and losing his toe, there was a shift. A major one. You could see it, the pain on his face and in his soul. Though he hid his emotions well, you could still read him like the back of your hand. You two were married, after all.

That wasn’t all though, course it wasn’t. Even after all these years spent together, going to literal hell and back you still managed to pull through every time. This time, however, it felt like Izzy was giving up. Not just on you and your relationship, but himself, as well.

It pained you greatly, knowing that the man you loved more than life itself was going through the unimaginable and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Because Blackbeard wouldn’t allow it.

Because Izzy wouldn’t accept it.

Time after time you tried to get him to let you in, to let you help him, countless nights spent outside his door - the cabin you once shared, before Blackbeard decided to ruin that. He forbid you from even being near Izzy. The closest you could get to him now was to sleep in the hallway, and having to put up with hearing as his soft snores turned into hushed cries when he woke up from yet another nightmare.

You couldn’t do this any longer. He, couldn’t do this any longer. Your time with Izzy had already been cut short due to being forced away from one another, and now you were worried it was going to happen permanently.

Izzy was strong, you knew that, course you did. But what would be the straw that broke the camels back? One person can only endure so much before it all becomes too much, so what would that be?

And when?

After another near sleepless night, you had to fight tooth and nail to make sure you were on deck before Blackbeard decided to make himself present for the day. And god, when he did, well… you just wished he hadn’t. Apparently the last few days you and the crew spent raiding and slaughtering any ship you could find wasn’t enough, because Blackbeard wanted more.

Hasn’t he taken enough?

To mark the matters of the day worse, the ship you raided just so happened to be a wedding. The already impossibly tight knots in your stomach worsened, as you were forced to play a pawn in his little game and tear apart what should’ve been a special day for the newlyweds. Soon, white became splattered with red as you cruelly and savagely sliced apart the bride.

And even when it was all over, you could still hear her soul shattering screams as she cried out for her lover.

You felt sick, not being able to stomach the thought of eating right now. Blackbeard decided to take the cake, now seemingly kind enough to divvy out some for the crew. No one ate any, all too tired and burnt out from the countless other slaughters from the day before. This just seemed like over kill. Heh. Literally.

The others tried making idle conversation, wanting to lighten up the atmosphere, but what could be said right now? It was all so, so… poisonous. At least, that’s how Jim put it. Yeah, was a good word for it. Man, if only you knew how badly those words would bite you in the ass later on.

Word got back to Blackbeard, as it always did.

He wasn’t too happy in what was said. Now, as you all stood before him on the deck, desperately trying not to break when he waved his gun around at the crew when he made them all go around and state that the atmosphere wasn’t poison, it was your turn.

“And you, dear little y/n Handsssss,” he dragged on your last name teasingly. So much malice, so much madness in his eyes. “Do you think the atmosphere on this ship is poison?” Gun pointed at your head, a man you once trusted behind it, the man you loved standing behind him. Izzy. Your eyes, tearful and pained, found his pleading ones. “No,” you let out a gasp, closing your eyes and letting a stray tear fall.

It felt like ages before Blackbeard got through the whole crew, but he wasn’t done yet. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with the sight of him now holding the gun up to his own chin. You looked at Izzy, who refused to look back at you.

Until he did, a fire inside of them that you hadn’t seen in a while. “Fucking end!” he yelled, and that’s when all hell broke loose. The gun went off, so loud and so deafening. Damning. Haunting. Red, a color you began to hate so deeply, starting to stain the wooden floor beneath you. And Izzy… oh, Izzy.

Oh god, you couldn’t breathe. Izzy, now laying on the deck, screaming in pain and bleeding, so close and yet so far from you. The next few moments of your life went by in a blur, and yet you felt like you were moving in slow motion.

You’re not sure who helped you down below deck, you just remembered someone gently scooping you up into their arms as they followed where Izzy was taken to.

And that’s where you where now, where you have been for what felt like days now. His hand was tightly clutched in yours, the grip you had never wavering, even when Izzy was in and out of consciousness, muttering widely and thrashing about.

Your presence and loyalty never wavered, either. Not even when he finally came to, for real, and wouldn’t look you in the eye. Too afraid to find judgement or resentment in your eyes, but those are feelings you would never know how to feel towards him, anyways.

“Iz, please,” you tried to plea. Over and over. You needed him to talk to you, needed to hear his voice. But he just… wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was bad enough that you had to see him like this, so how the hell was he supposed to keep himself composed and not break into pieces if he trusted himself to talk?

“Izzy, please, just… talk to me.” your voice was so quiet, so gentle, but the pain was there. He couldn’t just hear it, he could feel it too. Your pain was his pain, and his pain yours. The both of you were hurting, for reasons both the same and not.

Hell, Izzy realizes. He’s putting you through hell.

“My love, please. Please,” you cried. The grip you had was beginning to falter, showing him just how tired you really were. He kept his eyes down, off and away from you. His chest rose up and down, tense with the words he wanted to say but didn’t know how. Maybe you’ll get so fed and and just leave him there to rot, as he deserved. He put you all through this mess, you didn’t need to be the one cleaning it up…

But you, being you, stubborn and hardheaded as always, weren’t going to give up so easily. He thought maybe you were, when you released your hand from his, standing up in the meantime. He closed his eyes, thinking this is it. You were going to walk out that door, where you’d never enter from again, leaving him alone to hide in the guilt and shame he felt.

Instead, gentle but firm hands cupped his cheeks, the warmth of them making Izzy open his eyes and meet yours. Finally. You looked down at your, with love and worry and… fire. “Now, you listen here, Izzy Hands. I know, okay, I know it hurts. But it’s me, you can trust me. You have to trust me, Iz. I’m here, I’m here and I love you and I’m not going to leave, even if you want me to. I am here, and so are you… and god damn it, it’s been forever since it’s been just the two of us. We’re safe, we’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’ll take care of you, I just… I need you to let me. Let me take care of you, please.”

Izzy lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes never once leaving yours as he replays the words, “you’re safe,” and “i’ll take care of you.” that was supposed to be his job, he was supposed to say that to you. Yes, you were married and yes it was a promise you both made, but he was Izzy fucking Hands, he was supposed to be the protector.

“Izzy,” you stated again, your voice still gentle but firm. Izzy’s tired, teary eyes met yours. He looked so fragile, even more so as you placed your hand on his. “I’ll take care of you,” you promised. Izzy whimpered, “you shouldn’t have to, its rotten work.” he all but whimpered, his face heavy and scrunched in pain. A part of your heart cracked upon hearing the words, because he sounded so defeated.

You shook your head, stroking his hand with your thumb. “Not to me,” you said with finality in your voice. “not if it’s you…”

Izzy’s eyes found yours once more, hating the way your voice cracked when you said that. The walls Izzy began to build up high were slowly but surely coming down, his reluctancy to let you aid him diminishing by the second. “okay,” he said softly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. A smile meet yours as well, “okay.” you nod, hand still in his as you raise it to your lips in a gentle kiss.

“We will get through this, Izzy. I promise. I meant it when I said in sickness and health.”

“I know.” Izzy replied, “and you never break a promise.”

[betweenlands]

[ID: Two asks from my inbox. The first is from @12u3ie and reads "Drop the essay, Solar /nf". The second is from @artisticgryfess and reads "wait no tell me about joe being technos hels". /End ID]

holy shit you guys i'm not even a hermitcraft or dsmp blog rn. fair enough this is a longstanding conspiracy theory of mine, though. ok, so. Joe Is Techno's Hels, the not-an-essay (mainly because i'm not going to cite SHIT, this is PURELY in the realm of headcanon/theory except if i explicitly indicate something is supported by canon)

so, the joke theory starts like this: back when hermitcraft/dsmp crossovers were first getting popular, there were a lot of crack theories about "hels!joe is technoblade" because... well, a lot of factors. they're both loosely english majors (i know joe is a history major just humor me), both slightly strange guys who operate by their own logic, both have somewhat similar (ish?) accents, both have a very deadpan sense of humor and incredible delivery on that deadpan, and most of all both of them Cannot Be Killed In A Way That Matters.

however, i am your local Hels Analyst, no like seriously there's so much weird shit about helsknight we haven't discussed yet, and one (implied? this is a theory but i feel it holds water) thing that's always been key to me about Hels versions is... they represent bad traits present in the original individual. whether or not those bad traits are the Objectively Bad ones or the traits the original self-identifies as bad is pretty up in the air right now (welsknight come off anon i just need you to tell me if helsknight likes pineapple on pizza it is absolutely fucking critical to our understanding of hels lore) but we'll be going with the latter, for reasons i'll explain later and by later i mean right now.

so! assuming there are hels versions of more players than just welsknight (i cannot stress enough how much we technically don't know this in canon -- it can reasonably be extrapolated but we really aren't sure!), that brings up an interesting issue with techno being joe's hels.

joe is not a particularly violent person.

"well solar," you say, "what does that have to do with techno being joe's hels?"

"well, strawman i have made up to make this long-ass post more visually broken-up and less formal-feeling," i reply, "hels versions of players only exhibit traits that are present in the original person." and this is confirmed canon, by the way -- wels himself has explicitly cited specific ways he can sometimes suck that are directly visible in the way helsknight acts!

so. joe is not a particularly violent person, and... okay yes listen i know there's a lot of very good writing on how technoblade isn't entirely 100% down for violence all the time and maybe wants to peacefully retire, okay. i get it. i am not calling techno a murder machine all i'm saying is that one of them enjoys pvp enough that he helped train other people and the other one is recording as he always does from nashville tennessee. i am a variety mcyt blogger and the only dsmp essay i have ever written before now is about how the tftsmp metaplot parallels redstoner. just bear with me.

imo joe also exhibits a lot of self-awareness about his own bad qualities as a character, and none of those traits are really... present in technoblade? but here's where it gets interesting.

i am no genius and certainly no master c!technoblade analyst, but if we assume technoblade trained to become a fighter and identified certain of his traits as being Not Ideal for someone who focuses on pvp and being a strong pigman, we can. kind of see those traits in joe, even if we can assume technoblade has learned enough to stop displaying those traits:

will commit to the bit even if it's inconvenient for him

obnoxious about whatever form of literature is closest to him

will start quoting from that work of literature to fit the situation even when it totally doesn't fit the situation

zero bloodlust and an active need to avoid direct conflict; a tendency towards pacifism even

malicious compliance

perfectly timed awful timing

overwhelming amounts of Just Some Guy and also English Major energy

exceedingly stubborn and would rather go through a problem than around it; will also see a tunnel through a mountain and climb over the hill instead

and. hm! yeah that feels like a joe hills description. you could make a joe hills out of this. add to that the fact that both of them refuse to die, but technoblade never dies whereas joe conquers death by dying over and over and coming back repeatedly out of sheer spite -- yeah i'd say joe could very easily be seen as the hels of the two.

and if Hels, the dimension, is the hostile and horrible place that helsknight claims it is -- where "everyone's unyielding and everyone there rebels" -- well, only one of them has a (mostly) canonical backstory that involves struggling through a hellish landscape designed by a hostile architect who wishes to cause pain and suffering. and it's not technoblade.

[theheirofthesharingan]

Hi there. I am sending this probably silly question because you are one of the few fans of both Sasuke and Itachi that I know, and this has been bugging me since the first time I watched Naruto.

So, Itachi wants Sasuke to be stronger, to kill him and go back to the village as a hero that killed an alleged Konoha traitor. But why does he tell him to kill his closest friend? I understand Itachi wants Sasuke to get the Mangekyou to get stronger, but this would surely make him a criminal in the eyes of Konoha. Also, I think it is unnecessary, since Sasuke could have gotten the Mangekyou after killing Itachi (which didn't happen in the end, but it was a possibility). I understand Itachi wanting to be sure, but still... He was risking way to much here.

It also does not make sense for Edo Tensei Itachi to "scold" Sasuke for being a "criminal" (he was not really scolding, but you get what I mean...) when he himself urged him to commit a way worse crime. So he says "I turned you into a criminal" but, actually, Sasuke never did what Itachi asked. I understand Itachi feels guilty for way more things than he deserves, and indeed he might be responsible for Sasuke leaving the village and going to Orochimaru to gain power for revenge... But anything that happened after Itachi's death was actually Sasuke's own decisions (decisions that came as a result of legit rage against Konoha for committing a genocide, of course).

I know Itachi was a child, traumatised, isolated and under inhumane pressure at the time. In these conditions, it is understandable that he did not make the best decisions, that he was not acting completely logically or thinking totally straight. I am not judging him in the slightest, I just would love to read your views on this.

Thank you and lots of love!

The rules of the Shinobi world are vastly different from those of ours. In the Shinobi world conflict is endless and lives hold different values than they do in ours. You may not face a trial for taking a life, much like you might not get a medal for saving one. Sakumo Hatake, for example, saved the lives of his comrades and ended up being shunned by the village, including the people whose lives he'd saved.

Itachi, after he killed his own parents, was leaving Sasuke in a place that had made him murder his own parents. Hiruzen was a weak shield and Danzo still lived in the village. Itachi wanted Sasuke to get strong, not only to kill him, but also to be able to protect himself in case Danzo made a move against him. An Uchiha, even with a simple Sharigan, was seen with fear. An Uchiha, with Mangekyo, would be formidable. Thinking from Itachi's POV, he was leaving Sasuke in a very hostile place, known for its belligerence towards Uchiha. What was a defenseless child supposed to do in case Danzo's Root came for him and Hiruzen proved useless? It didn't happen, but how would itachi know it wouldn't happen at all? Especially when Danzo did send Sai to kill Sasuke instead of letting a troop also follow them so they could take down Orochimaru, who had actually attacked the village.

Itachi had a flawed perception that as long as Sasuke lived, everything else he went through would be worth it, including his best friend's death. To him, Sasuke's life mattered, not a stranger's who might become his best friend. I believe he changed his mind later on when he met Sasuke and Naruto at the inn. He saw Naruto risking his own life, fighting for Sasuke despite being horrified of Itachi moments ago. It's probably after this that he made his mind to include one more objective to their final battle.

He also understood Sasuke didn't hate him at all. When he says 'you don't have enough hate', it's the truth, because when Sasuke learned Itachi was back and was after Naruto, he rushed to warn Naruto, but all he thought about was Itachi, their final day together before everything went wrong. And then he charged on Itachi, unprepared. We've known Sasuke to be calculative and in control of his emotions almost all the time. He loses it the moment he sees Itachi. Even if itachi tried to ignore him he wouldn't sit back. This wasn't the response of someone who had hate in his heart, but too much of emotional investment.

Yes. Itachi was always risking a lot. Him taking up the mission to annihilating his clan, then leaving Sasuke, and basically everything that followed - all of it was a gamble. Things could go either way. Sasuke had to be safe, for which he had to be protected all the time; but for him to become strong, Sasuke would have to train and practice, maybe go on potentially life threatening missions as well if he wanted to be strong enough to kill Itachi. Itachi's plan was always a double-edged sword. It could go either way.

Itachi blames himself for Sasuke's actions because he controlled a large portion of Sasuke's life. He did it unwillingly, in tears, in guilt, yes, but he did do it. Like I said above, he thought as long as Sasuke was safe it would be worth it. Itachi was somewhat responsible for Sasuke leaving Konoha, but not entirely. After Sasuke wakes up in the hospital, he challenges Naruto, because Naruto had suddenly become so strong. Even then he couldn't defeat Itachi. Then Sasuke, who had lived his whole life for the purpose of killing Itachi, was still no match for him. After Kakashi's pep talk, Sasuke even considers dropping the idea of revenge or at least struggles with it, thinking about Naruto, Sakura, and their bonding. Then Sound Four attack him. The rest is history.

After Itachi's death, while everything that Sasuke does is his own call, his own decisions, they still stem from the life Itachi made him live, and him not finding any closure. Yes, Itachi didn't want Sasuke to know the truth because he knew it would destroy him emotionally, and it happened exactly that way.

Itachi didn't scold Sasuke, he merely accepted where his plans failed. Itachi and Sasuke are very rich characters in terms of psychological depth. I'm no psychology student, but I love to read stuff here and there, and one pattern I've seen in both the brothers is that of 'age regression.'

When trauma impairs your ability to develop full emotional maturity, this is known as arrested psychological development. Trauma can “freeze” your emotional response at the age you experienced it. When you feel or act emotionally younger than your actual age, this is known as age regression.

Taken from this article. There's more to it, but I lifted the important part to answer this ask.

It's very common in how both Itachi and Sasuke respond. Many people say 'Itachi always saw Sasuke as a child to protect instead of a grown up' and he himself says this as Edo Tensei to Sasuke later on. I believe it's because, emotionally, he too never grew up beyond 12-13 and in some ways beyond four. To him he was never above 12 and Sasuke was never older than 7. All of his reactions to his life, however bad and with disastrous outcomes, are out of unresolved PTSD. It's the same with Sasuke and how he responds to his surroundings. Both of them were emotionally 'frozen' in the age they were traumatized. At the age of 12, even though Sasuke is too mature for his age, there's still the longing for his family and he remembers every single detail of his moments with them. Then after learning Itachi's truth too. I believe while he's a grown up now in Boruto, there's a part of him that's frozen in that moment when he found out about Itachi. Since Itachi isn't mentioned in Boruto and Sasuke's feelings for his family aren't the matter of discussion, I don't think I can prove this.

When Itachi saw what he'd made Sasuke - not a criminal or a monster - but a lonely, broken kid, he felt ashamed of himself. He feels so guilty because of his conscience. It's also because he was free from any obligation towards anyone after his death and was very flexible in face of new information that he admitted his wrongs.

Itachi, in fact, never realized what haopened to him was wrong too. His actions weren't spontaneous. On the contrary, they were the outcome of what was done to him. But unlike Sasuke and Kakashi, for instance, he did do many things wrong. Sasuke felt guilty for not being able to save his family, his clan, and then Itachi. Kakashi felt guilty for not being able to save Obito, then Rin. Even if it wasn't their fault. Itachi did a lot of things that were entirely unforgivable and he knew it too. So, his guilt outweighed any desire he might have had to acknowledge his trauma. He defined himself by the horrible things he'd done. Objectively, there would be a lot of nuances that you could consider, but fictional characters can never be objective.

When Hashirama praised Itachi, Itachi would never agree with him. When Sasuke called him perfect, Itachi disagreed with him. When Kabuto called him a genius/exceptional Itachi disagreed with him too.

Itachi felt nothing but regret his entire life, which eventually defined him as a person.

[smartycvnt]

Prince of Darkness*

Title: Prince of Darkness Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader Prompt: 1." Shh! There's people in the other room." + 6. "You look good with my hands around your throat." MINORS DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving) R WC: 842

The only way that Y/n could think to describe Finn in that moment was unfair. It was unfair how absolutely gorgeous he was as he stood huddled in the corner with the rest of his stablemates. They weren't supposed to have been at Jey's party. Jey had promised you that it was truly only people that could be trusted, and Y/n knew firsthand that Judgement Day weren't trustworthy. Every single one of them was a snake, but that wasn't going to stop Y/n's attraction to Finn. She found it unfortunate, but there was a history between them, one that had proven to be difficult to ignore.

"How long are you gonna keep staring at me, love?" Finn asked. Y/n wasn't sure how long ago she had taken her eyes off of him, but it hadn't been long enough for him to simply walk over. "Why don't you give me a tour of the place?"

"I'm sure that Jey offered you a tour earlier," Y/n said.

"He did, but I want you to show me around." Finn draped his arm around Y/n's shoulder as he guided her away from the makeshift bar she had been sitting at. Jey would kill Finn if he found out about this, but that made it so much more interesting for Y/n. That was why she had spent so much time flirting with Finn whenever she had been a part of The Bloodline. She liked the danger that came with the two factions potentially feuding with each other.

Y/n looked around to make sure that nobody was watching as she led Finn around the house. He kept his arm around her shoulders as the two of them moved together. It was the closest that she had felt to being a kept woman in a long time. Professional wrestling didn't exactly make it easy to date, and there weren't a lot of guys brave enough to go near her with her brothers around. Finn had once been one of those guys, but she had noticed a chance in him recently. He had been floundering a little bit before, but now that he had a title again, he was on top of the world once again.

The two of them moved quickly once they were behind a closed door. Y/n wasted no time in undoing each of the buttons on Finn's shirt. She ran her fingers over his abs, feeling as the muscles tensed beneath her touch. Finn bit his lip as Y/n dropped down onto her knees in front of him. He glanced down at her, but quickly had to look away from Y/n's gaze. She had always been a woman to go after what she wanted, and despite Finn wanting this just as badly, he had never felt so out of control before. Y/n was the one doing everything that Finn wanted, and yet, Finn would have done absolutely anything for her to touch him.

"Fuck, yes," Finn moaned as Y/n took his cock into her mouth. The pleasure was short lived as Y/n pulled back to shush Finn.

"Shh! There's people in the other room. You wouldn't want them to come in and see you like this, would you? I hear you've got a reputation as a big, tough guy these days. It might be hard to maintain that when they see you moaning like the pretty little prince I know you are," Y/n teased. Finn clenched his jaw and tried to keep a steely gaze forward as Y/n took him back into her mouth. He held strong for the most part, but Y/n could see the cracks forming the closer her got to cumming. Truthfully, she preferred the moans and whimpers as he tried to thrust his cock further down her throat to the grunts and growls that Finn seemed to be forcing in their place.

Finn's back hit the wall as he slid down it. Y/n backed away and took in the sight of him sitting back against the wall, the satisfied smile of exhaustion on his face. He would be back up to his feet momentarily, but Y/n would take every second she could to watch as he gathered himself up. The smile on Finn's face didn't leave it, note even as Y/n pulled him in for a kiss. She let her hands rest on the sides of his neck with her thumbs meeting in the middle. Y/n licked her lips as she ran her thumb along the column of him neck.

"Interesting," Y/n mumbled.

"What?" Finn asked as he started to sit up a little. Y/n moved along with him, allowing her hands to remain there.

"You look good with my hands around your throat." Finn swallowed somewhat nervously. It wasn't a bad nervous, but an excited one. He could practically see the cogs turning inside of Y/n's head as she thought of ways to use her newfound information.

[whumpshaped]

Been thinking about a mock execution followed by a mock resurrection in a cult setting. Like… Whumpee watched their best friend be ‘killed’ and now the cult demands all this stuff for the ‘ritual’ to bring them back and by the end Whumpee is so brainwashed they’ll play the role of being mock executed to help bring people into the cult. Deception isn’t that big a deal if it’s saving someone’s soul, and they should know- they’ve turned out fine

- @another-whump-sideblog

ok i realise this is different from the prompt because whumpee doesnt actually know theyre participating in deception..... but i think its still pretty good

tw cult setting, religious whump, murder, manipulation, conditioning, noncon drugging

There was nothing they could do. They couldn't stand up and rush over to the priest, they couldn't get their friend off the altar, they couldn't even move. They were surrounded by all their other friends and loved ones who didn't move a muscle either, didn't even bat an eye as the priest raised the ritual knife. If they had stood up and opposed this madness, they would've been shunned.

So they stayed put and watched. They gripped the edge of their seat and tried to blink away their tears, hoping that at the end of all this chanting the priest would do something symbolic instead of literally stabbing their best friend. Maybe it was a test of faith. Maybe if they stayed put, the priest would reward them by not murdering their friend.

When the knife came down, Whumpee almost saw it in slow motion. Their eyes were helplessly locked on the scene as the priest buried the knife hilt-deep inside their friend's abdomen, but they couldn't make a single sound of protest. They couldn't believe it. It just wasn't real. It couldn't be.

They watched as their friend's head lolled to the side, glassy eyes staring into their very soul. They watched as the body went limp and was carried away, and they stayed in their seat, only moving to kneel for prayer once everyone else did so as well.

Their friend was gone. What were they even praying for?

"Whumpee."

They turned towards the source of the voice, finding themself staring at the priest. The church was empty. They were still kneeling. They must've zoned out.

"I'm sorry, I... I'll leave. Sorry. I didn't realise–"

"I would like to talk to you, actually. I know you must be experiencing a lot of emotions regarding today's events."

"I... I have questions."

The priest smiled and extended a hand. "Come. I'll answer them all to the best of my abilities."

-

"They said they would be resurrected," Whumpee said quietly. "I thought... I thought it was a metaphor. I didn't know... I'm sorry, I'm still so new to all of this, I don't understand how– how they could give their life so willingly– they said they'd seen others be resurrected, and they trusted me, and I just... I don't know what they trusted me with."

"Their life, of course."

Whumpee's eyes widened. "But– was I supposed to stop it? They said not to stop it! They said to trust in you like they trusted in me! And I did, I didn't stop it–"

"Calm down, child. Allow me to explain the process behind the sacrifice."

Whumpee took a shaky breath and tried to settle down. They wiped the tears from their eyes and gestured for the priest to go on, putting on their best listening face.

"People volunteer to become sacrificial lambs for those closest to them. Your friend volunteered their life to strengthen your faith, and they trust that you won't run away from the trial. Because if your faith is strong enough, you can bring them back."

"Bring them back..?"

"Of course. They weren't lying about having seen many resurrections. They have even resurrected a friend before themself. They were just as shaken as you are now, but they decided to trust in God, strengthen their faith, and go through with the ritual."

Whumpee felt like they were being lied to. Who could even bring back someone from the dead? If anyone, it certainly wasn't them. But if their friend had also done it... and if they were now counting on them... "I've never seen any resurrections before," they said miserably. "It sounds..."

"Impossible?" Whumpee slowly nodded, and the priest chuckled. "Yes, it does. But that is part of the trial. You see, those who have never gone through resurrecting a friend or loved one aren't allowed to participate in sacrificial sermons, unless it's their very own — which is what you've just taken part in. Once you've seen something happen in front of your very eyes, it's quite easy to believe it could happen again. But believing that even something that sounds entirely impossible, something you have never witnessed before could happen because of your trust and devotion? That is true faith."

True faith... But how were they supposed to believe something so outrageous? "I, I'm not sure I can do that," they stammered. They didn't even attempt to hold back their tears this time. "My friend– my friend trusted me this much? Why? Why, when I can't– I can't imagine how one could believe in such a thing! I wasn't ready! They gave their life for someone like me, and I'm not even– I'm not even faithful enough to, to bring them back!"

"They trusted you because they believed you were ready." The priest reached out and gently took their hand in their own. "They came to consult me about it, and I told them that I shared their sentiment."

"Why would you–"

"Because you are, child. You are ready. And I can help you grow your faith in the coming three days before the resurrection ceremony. I can help you trust. And I will, if you ask me to." They paused for a moment, their determined expression softening into something more understanding. "You can also choose to walk away from the trial, of course. Nobody can stop you. I know your friend would never hold it against you."

"How can you even say that?" they sobbed. "You murdered my friend, and now you're saying I have a chance to undo it, and– and that I can walk away? Of course I can't. I can't. I can't let them die if there's another way!"

"I assumed you would say that. And your friend did too."

-

Whumpee barely slept in those three days. They were advised to fast, read the holy texts, and pray. Nothing else mattered. They told themself over and over that everything was possible for God, that the people who said they'd already witnessed several resurrections weren't lying, that if they believed hard enough their friend would come back and hug them and tell them they'd done well.

On the day of the ceremony, Whumpee was sweating bullets. They were terrified that their faith hadn't grown enough to bring a person back to life. As they walked up to the altar with their dead friend on top of it, they thought they might pass out.

"Let us pray," the priest said loudly, and Whumpee heard the sound of a hundred people all get onto their knees. They lowered themself to the floor as well, clasping their hands together with the desperation of someone who was truly suffering. "Lord, examine the heart of Your humble servant closely. Reward their faith if it pleases You, and give them the gift of life and love. Show them that with faith, everything is possible."

The crowd murmured the word 'amen', and Whumpee took a deep breath. "Amen."

Days without food had weakened their body, and they felt lightheaded as they rose to their feet again. They looked down at their dead friend, then up at the priest and the religious symbols on the wall behind them. In that moment, a wave of complete and utter peace washed over them. They knew that everyone in the room trusted the same God as them, and that they had all seen this happen before. Nothing was impossible.

"I believe," they whispered, and the priest took their hand and gently guided it to their friend's chest.

"Let it happen according to your faith."

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Whumpee broke down in tears as soon as they felt it, dropping right back to their knees while muttering words of gratutude and worship. Their faith had been enough. Their friend was alive! Their friend was alive again, because they had trusted and believed!

"Praise be," they choked out, and the priest laughed.

"Praise be!" they repeated joyfully, and the people behind them enthusiastically joined in.

-

"I can't believe I'm about to spring this on my friend," Whumpee said with a grin. "Like you did to me! That was the scariest day of my entire life, and I'm about to do it to someone else..."

"But it was followed by the best day of your life, wasn't it?" Their friend was cheery as ever, the scar on their stomach carefully covered up by several layers of clothes. "Your faith would not be as stable as it is if I hadn't done that! And now you get to help your friend like I helped you."

"You're right. Besides, I'm sure they'll do amazingly." Their smile faltered, and they stopped walking. "Were you scared? Before the big day?"

Their friend turned around to be able to look them in the eyes, but there was nothing on their face that indicated that this question was a bad one. They looked compassionate. "Yes, I was. Not because I thought you wouldn't pass the trial, just... I knew it would hurt."

"Does it hurt a lot?"

Their friend nodded a little, and absentmindedly raised a hand to their stomach. "It's over quite quickly, though. Quicker than I'd assumed."

Whumpee nodded as well, but then quickly went back to their joyful attitude from before. "Well, no need to be sad about it! It's for a good cause, and I'm happy to be a part of it!"

Their friend smiled back. "Yes. It's quite the thrilling experience."

-

The priest was quite pleased when Whumpee sought them out to talk about the sacrifice. They were eager to continue the cycle, which was always a good sign. It meant that they didn't suspect a thing.

They talked to Whumpee for a good while, answering all the questions they had with utter nonsense they made up on the spot. There was no truth to any of it, really, but all the idiots in the group ate it up. The real preparation started once Whumpee was out of the room.

They prepared a portion of their special drug cocktail, the one they used to coat the ritual knife. It had some anaesthetics in it to dull the pain, and of course something that would cause the subject to black out quite quickly. It gave the very convincing impression of seeing somebody die on the altar.

They prepared all the IVs and the surgical equipment, making sure everything was clean and in order. They couldn't have the sacrifice actually die, after all. No, they had to be kept in a limbo for three days, not dead but not awake either. The only time the heart needed to be stopped was right before the ceremony, in case someone got overwhelmed and decided to check for a pulse before they gave the go-ahead.

The priest pulled out one of the drawers, grimacing when they realised they would need to cook up a new batch of the other drug as well, the one they used to restart circulation. It was always remarkably easy to inject the sacrifice while all the sheep had their heads bowed in prayer. No one ever looked. No one ever noticed.

For all they knew, they were witnessing one resurrection after the other.

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em

[notroosterbradshaw]

Kisses #11 with Bob and maybe a pilot!reader?

PROMPT: 11. a kiss that says ''we're late for work, but let's be later''

thank you for this, nonny. Let's go!

A/N - I have another 10 or so kiss prompts. I'm going to close the requests. Thank you for your submissions, I'm enjoying writing them. Def overwhelmed but will continue with what I’ve already received xx

“You need to go that way, I need to go that way,” you mumbled against Bob’s lips, reaching for the collar of his flight suit to pull him closer. He huffed a quiet hum, your actions not mirroring your words in the slightest. 

You were about two minutes away from hearing the riot act from Cyclone, Bob was about to hear the same from Phoenix for the 200 push-ups she had coming because he was surely going to be late and well, you know, partners. Your lips had been glued together for the better part of five - 

“Uh huh,” Bob said, pulling his grip against you tighter, his big hands pressing into your hips and curving your spine to him. 

It all started innocently enough. You grinned at each other as you crossed pathways in the hallway. You have just left a morning meeting and Bob had just gone through his morning seminar, heading to pre-flight. “Just,” he lifted his wrist from your side, spying his watch over your shoulder. “90 more seconds and we can make a break for it, okay?”

“On the clock, so sexy,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. He caught your lips again. Sweet Bob, how this was turning into a daily occurrence was baffling to you. You’d met him in his graduate year, and as deceptive as his shyness projected, Bob wasn’t overly timid around those that he knew. You’d got to talking one night over a few drinks at The Hard Deck and you couldn’t get enough of his stories of growing up on the farm but also needing to break the chain of his family’s expectations for what he truly wanted in life.

He thought that was to fly but his fate brought him to the backseat, a role he relished and knew he was damn good at too. 

A few beers that night and he had you a quivering mess as he pressed his body against yours outside the bar. It never really eventuated further that. But this time was different. You had both found yourselves in the right places at the right time. Funny that.

His strong palm would wrap around your wrist, drag you into the closest classroom and kiss you ferociously until the very last second when you’d both escape before being caught. To this point... there were way too many near misses for your luck not to run out. And soon. 

Your phone started to buzz and Bob only fought harder for your kiss, his slick tongue sweet against your own. You’d learned so much from him. Like... how not to underestimate the quiet ones.

“Bob, I gotta go. It’s Cyclone, I have another meeting - ” 

He groaned against your lips. He knew he was in for it too. “Okay, okay,” he said, reluctantly and stepped away. He took his BCGs off (good lord, they weren’t meant to be attractive by any stretch... but Bob definitely found a way to make them work) and he rubbed the slightly foggy marks away against his flight suit before adjusting them back on his eyes properly, a goofy smile on his lips. Proud, pleased. Both.

Collecting yourself, you were scared the open the classroom door in case there was a gaggle of new students on the other side. You straightened your clothes and breathed evenly. “Have a good day, Lieutenant.”

“Yep,” was all he could reply as you ducked out and left him to his devices. Reading his wat, he knew: Natasha Trace was going to kill him. He was late. 

“Think this is funny?” Phoenix asked as Bob scurried across the tarmac as she inspected their aircraft a few moments later. “You wanna go on this mission, we gotta be on our A-game.”

“Of course,” Bob said, his skin flushing. 

She frowned at him, glad they weren’t spotted by any of their seniors. “I dunno who she is, Bob, but this is the second day in a row your mouth is covered in lipstick. I think yesterday’s suited you better though,” she smirked to herself, using her thumb to rid away the last of the evidence.

He nodded. “She’s everything,” he told his partner. 

“She works here?” 

He gave a single nod. 

“Say no more - tell me everything tonight over a beer,” she instructed as Bob’s face brightened slightly.

“Well, ok.” 

[in-omni-scientia]

listen very carefully bookhead I have a question for you

What do we know about Kras Mazov and communism, it is extremely important that you tell me

Here's a basic rundown of everything I could recover about communism from our mangled brain, goldmouth.

First of all, we are certainly not Kras Mazov. Kras Mazov shot himself in the mouth in his cabinet when the State Day Palace in Mirova was surrounded. He is dead and reincarnation is, probably, not real.

The Antecentennial Revolution started in '02 in Graad after a particularly bad pandemic of a prion disease called tzaarath. The pandemic provided the spark necessary to get it going; likely a dissatisfaction with the way the Moralintern handled it. Joyce Messier has also said the causes of the revolution were "material" in nature.

Kras Mazov, often called the father of scientific communism, was the Premier of the Communist Party of Shest and Graad during the Revolution, as well as head of the Eleven Day Government. See Point 1.

His closest partner was Ignus Nilsen, who had a very wide range of interests, to put it lightly. He is the founder of infra-materialism, known to admirers as the 'Evangelist of the Revolution' and was often called the 'apocalyptic shrike' or 'apocalyptic blacksmith' by enemies after a disastrous retreat from Graad to Samara where he ordered 12,000 prisoners of war impaled on sharpened spruce trees in the Samaran backcountry. He is recognised as a founding father in the People's Republic of Samara and his variant of mazovianism is called Nilsenist-Mazovianism. He also spent quite a bit of time in exile from several different places.

Another important pair are the Revolutionary Lovers, Julia Dobreva (Graadian) and Jean Abadanaiz (Revacholian), the Dual Commissars of Revolution in Insulinde. It's from them the concept of décomptage (dual-partnership) comes from. They killed themselves on the beach of a nameless island in Ozonne.

40 million people died during the World Revolution. Only two million of those deaths were not either communists or anarchists. The anarchists were piled in mass graves in Ozonne.

The two current main schools of thought are the Gottwaldian school (those who believe intellectuals cannot spark revolutionary change and must critique capitalism from within itself) and the Mazovian Economists (those who advocate for a gradual transition to communism through carefully managed economic modernisation rather than violent revolution).

Inframaterialism is a school of thought which posits one's belief in historical materialism can take the form of 'revolutionary plasm', which, when strong enough, can influence material reality around it. It has effects divided into three levels, ranging from causing crops to have greater yields, to being able to hold up a building which would otherwise collapse due to not being physically sufficiently supported.

According to the Internet... Ignus Nilsen's -- ghost-thing? -- is just following some kid around, right now? Surely that's impossible.

That's all I have time to gather right now; it's entirely possible there's information I've missed. I will be sure to @ you should I add any more information to this list.

[blue-thief]

chuuya and the very, very screwed-up dynamics he has with others (attempted bsd analysis)

"chuuya-sama is the kind of person who would never abandon those who have helped him, even if they end up betraying him."

this line from adam in storm bringer sums up the core of chuuya's character in a single sentence. over the years, chuuya has sworn loyalty to numerous people, groups, and causes, and in some cases, these connections have proven his status as a human. unfortunately, in other cases, his sense of self and autonomy has been damaged by his devotion. what sort of positions has chuuya taken in these relationships? how have these connections affected chuuya as a person? will chuuya learn anything from the constant loss and betrayal, or will he be forever trapped in relationships that ultimately take more away from him than give?

chuuya's earliest friendships were formed in the sheep. after giving him a place he could call home, chuuya helped them go from a simple support group for homeless orphans to one of the fiercest gangs in yokohama that could rival even the port mafia. there was an understanding between chuuya and the rest of the sheep that in order to repay them for saving his life, it was chuuya's duty to protect them. it was only right, after all, since he was the strongest out of all of them—his responsibility as the strong one was to help the weaker sheep. he then became the infamous "king of the sheep", a title that seemed so glamorous that even one of chuuya's closest friends, shirase, desired that status. he was placed on a pedestal by his peers, and was removed from them to the point that shirase actually forgot that chuuya was his age, a kid just like him.

"chuuya's the one who did the fighting. chuuya dealt with the pain... and it only made sense. he's powerful, and he was simply fulfilling the duty he had as someone with that kind of power.

"but he's somehow weaker than usual now... i've never seen him like that. he looks just like a regular guy my age.

"wait, no—he doesn't just look like one. he is my age. he's a boy just like me."

then he was tragically ripped away from the sheep in a deal with the mafia in order to protect them. chuuya was forced to join the mafia, and it was there that he exchanged a few words with mori. mori said that a leader, even with all the power they have, is a "slave" to it because they must sacrifice their everything towards the organisation's cause. chuuya admits that is what he was lacking as the sheep king, and swears allegiance to mori.

but was that really something chuuya was lacking? wasn't chuuya already working himself to the bone for the sake of the sheep, all because that was his assigned duty? he had already dedicated his everything to the sheep, and he was doing it again with the mafia, only this time, the power dynamics have shifted. instead of being the king, chuuya was now the servant.

chuuya became mori's subordinate because he felt as though he wasn't good enough as a leader. he did everything he could for them, and yet, the sheep fell apart because of him. for this, he harbours immense guilt over not being able to perform his duties. this guilt of not doing enough is worsened by the death of the flags.

"this is your fault, chuuya." (shirase) glared at chuuya with a smile still on his face. —fifteen

"then why did he kill them?"

"i believe verbalising the reason would be meaningless."

"answer me! ...you're a machine, aren't you?! then give me a perfect, objective answer!"

..."because of you, chuuya."

...silence.

"yeah, it is my fault." —stormbringer

chuuya still wholeheartedly believes that it's his responsibility to save and protect others because of the strength he was born with, and he constantly beats himself up over not doing enough. the thought of failing others scares him. it's possible that this trait of his is part of the reason why detective murase wished to "bring him into the light".

despite being one of the youngest port mafia executives in history, chuuya has a peculiar affinity towards the "light". this is made even more interesting when you consider that his former partner, dazai, the "demon prodigy" with blood that is "mafia black", ended up on "the side of good" by joining the armed detective agency. dazai and chuuya are meant to be foils—will chuuya eventually follow dazai to the "light"? or will they always be each other's complete opposites, with chuuya, naturally drawn to helping the weak, on the side that brings harm, and with dazai, not truly understanding the importance of morality, on the side that saves others?

speaking of chuuya's relationship with dazai, their tumultuous and difficult history may be the key to chuuya's development (that is, if he survives this current arc). despite having an unwavering "hatred" for dazai, chuuya eventually surrendered into becoming his partner, and they never would have become the infamous double black if it wasn't for their firm trust and loyalty in each other. that all came crashing down, however, when dazai betrayed the port mafia, as well as chuuya.

the fandom has yet to see chuuya's true reaction to this sudden abandonment, but people seem to have split themselves into two very distinct camps. fanon interpretation seems to be either, "chuuya completely broke down after losing dazai and was never able to function as a person ever again" or, "chuuya is a total bad-ass who doesn't need to rely on dazai whatsoever and was 1000% emotionally stable after he left".

in reality, it was probably a mix of both. losing dazai was certainly not the end of the world for chuuya, and seeing how he's still a feared mafia executive indicates that he was able to keep himself together for the most part. still, dazai was an important person to chuuya and his development as a person; he was the one constant in chuuya's life since they were fifteen, and it wouldn't be completely unfair to believe that chuuya was emotionally distraught over experiencing one more loss.

on the other hand, this is not the first time chuuya has experienced loss. time and time again we have seen him recover and get through life as well as he can. however, in the case of the death of the flags, he was pressured by the likes of adam and mori into repressing his grief.

after dazai left the mafia, though, chuuya might have handled his emotions differently. four years is a long time, and chuuya likely went through much reflection about himself and his relationship with dazai, understanding that he doesn't need him, the same way he never technically needed anyone. however, he must have come to accept that dazai mattered much more to him than he initially realised.

chuuya accepting that he can and should exist as his own person outside of his relationship with dazai may be the first step for him to realise that he doesn't have to continue being the mafia's loyal dog. many people have begun speculating that chuuya may end up joining the armed detective agency (if he lives). the armed detective agency is a place where they do not care about the usefulness of their members—instead, they aim to provide their lost members a home and encourage them to help other people. the natural progression of chuuya's arc, if he is to receive a happy ending, would be to join an organisation like the agency to amend the co-dependent dynamics he wound up in over the years. he would fit right in, especially when you consider his natural affinity towards the "light".

i would like to believe there is hope for chuuya. i may end up regretting this prediction, but i can't help but believe that dazai has a plan to save chuuya, and a happy ending is in store for him. it only makes sense that he would finally recognise his own worth, leave the mafia, and pave a better life for himself. but i guess only time will tell.

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [37] BACK

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: The group is changed. The prison is changed. However, the world is still the same.

Warnings: language, death

Song:

Words: 3,271

Everything had changed in the past six months.

The prison became a different version of the farm they lost in the past. They had their own vegetables and animals, thanks to people from the Woodbury the place became like a happy land. Everyone had their own tasks and chores, and everyone worked in a perfect harmony. Their group wasn't afraid of others anymore, which brought a breath of fresh air to their lives.

People also changed.

Rick came back to his senses. He was the one Rick she met in the quarry and she would dare to say that he was even better. He started smiling more, cracking jokes here and there, which confused Charlie at first. She always saw him as a leader, strong personality, but under this tough act was hiding a goofy. He seemed to enjoy his new role so she started calling him Farmer Rick.

Carl also became calmer. In the Woodbury were people around his age, so he wasn't stuck with adults all the time, which clearly did good to him. He found a new passion and it was reading comics - he was doing it all the time no matter what time it was. Michonne was finding them every time she was gone, so he could later tell Charlie everything. He finally got to experience the childhood again with no running, deaths, and guns - as the council (Hershel, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, and Charlie) decided that it would be the best for everyone to keep guns around just in case, but use it outside of the fences.

Charlie felt finally at peace. Demons of the past seemed to go away and leave her be. She was trying to create a new life, under new circumstances.

"Hi, Charlie," she turned around as she heard the male voice.

Daryl....

If anything could change more it was Daryl Dixon. He has become a member of the Prison Council, being responsible for the prison administration as he was one of the key members of the group. He was becoming less aggressive and deeply liking the attention he was receiving from the newcomers. As to the relations with Charlie he was very careful and after those six months he still wasn't sure if he could treat her like before. The closest they got to each other was back in the Woodbury when he was trying to comfort her. Being so distant and sharing just business conversations before going on the runs - which didn't happen often, was the only factor stopping them from truly enjoying the peace of the prison.

"Hi," she gave him a tight smile, like many she gave him recently.

"We brought you some food, sweet thing," Carol smiled and gave her a bowl.

"Thanks," she smiled but placed it away, feeling too troubled to eat.

"How's it going?" Daryl asked.

"Not good," she shook her head. "We had a pretty big buildup overnight. Dozens more towards tower three," she reported. "It's getting as bad as last month. Or even worse...They don't spread out anymore."

"With more of us here, we're drawing more of them out," Daryl commented. "You get enough of those damn fence-clingers, they start to herd up."

"So we get ahead of it, not for long," Carol sighed and then she looked at Daryl. "Sorry, Pookie."

He scoffed and pushed Carol lightly before walking away. Charlie followed him until he disappeared completely and turned to the woman who was smiling like a cheshire cat. "Can you really take over my chores?" she asked.

"Yeah. I got Patrick to change me in the kitchen," she smiled. "Don't worry and go."

He was so close to her yet so far away - that's how she felt during all of their supplies runs. They weren't too frequent. Reed wasn't a part of the Supply Group, she felt comfortable as the protector of the prison - mostly sitting on the watch tower or killing the build ups of Walkers. This time, however, the supply run was supposed to be big one. Big Spot was a store located not so far away from the prison. There were rumors that it was used by the military as a base. The group took boombox and used the music to lure the Walkers out, preparing the store for a later sweep. Charlie was in, the moment she heard about it and she moved everything aside to be a part of this.

"It's like a damn romance novel," Daryl commented as they passed Beth and her boyfriend, exchanging what seemed like a goodbye.

"I think it's sweet," Charlie said as she passed him with a basket. He just hummed not convinced in an answer.

"Let me earn my keep," said Bob once Charlie placed her things in the car. She looked from behind the car so she could hear the conversation better, before approaching them.

"You were out on your own when Daryl found you," Sasha answered. "I just want to make sure you know how to play on a team."

"We ain't gonna do it unless it's easy," Daryl said passing Charlie.

"He was a medic in the Army," added Glenn. Charlie turned her head in his direction and looked at the man. His name was Bob and he was found not that long time ago by Glenn and Daryl - with the second not being so sure about him.

"Let's give him a chance," she interrupted.

"Are you sure?" Sasha furrowed her eyebrows. "There's no room for mistakes."

"I know," Charlie nodded. "Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, right?"

"You a hell of a tough sell. You know that?" Bob smiled at Sasha and gave Charlie a small wink.

"Okay," Sasha gave up after a short while and entered a car. "But if something goes wrong..."

Charlie patted Bob in the arm and walked to her car. Once she was at the driver door she reached for the handle at the same time Glenn did. She looked at him and he shook his head. "No."

"Yes."

"I'm not going if you're driving."

"Then stay, I don't care," she answered and pulled the doors, but at the same time Glenn pushed it close. Charlie sighed, closing her eyes. "Dude, just go over there."

"Dude, you almost killed me once," he said remembering the time she was driving him to the farm.

"Don't be so dramatic! You're the man and it was just a dirt road!" she argued. "Now we will go on an asphalt!"

"With Walkers wandering on the sidelines!" he yelled. "Zac! Do you want to die today?" Glenn asked the boy that was standing offside.

"Not really," he smiled.

"And you will if we let Glenn drive," Charlie said.

"Charlie..."

"Glenn..."

"Charlie..."

She gasped and looked past him with wide eyes. The young man looked in that direction and that's when Charlie used the chance and sat inside of the car. "Every damn time."

He sighed and pointed at Zac. "Better buckle up, man. She found a license on the street."

Charlie honked at him, sticking her head out of the window. "I heard that!"

The car stopped as the bike Daryl was riding on stopped. Dixon was reporting Rick on what's the plan and where they were going. She saw Michonne with disappointed face, shaking her head as a sign her mission once again ended with no results. The official story she was telling when someone was asking where she was going was the scouting mission. However, everyone knew it was a lie. She was searching state, towns, woods to find the man who got away and was still threatening the group."Charlie!" Michonne called her name and raised a hand.

"You're back!" Charlie smiled, sticking her head out of the window.

"I am and you're gone," she smiled at her.

"Hey!" Carl called as he saw her in the car with Glenn and approached the car quickly. "You going?"

"Is that a problem, dad?" she smiled.

"You didn't say anything."

"Chill," she answered. "Do your chores. Go read your comics or a book. Patrick will be bored, too. Or go to the story time."

"That's for kids, Charlie," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh? Forgot that you're the man," she smiled. "We have to go now. See you later, little man."

Can you handle the curves? Can you run all the lights?

f you can, baby boy, then we can go all night

'Cause I'm zero to sixty in 3.5

Baby, you got the keys

Now shut up and drive, drive, drive

Shut up and drive, drive,-

"You're going to bring all the Walkers back there," Glenn said and turned the radio off.

"The mood killer's in the house," Charlie rolled her eyes. Her body was still moving to the music she had in her head as the tune was really catchy. "Shame she's eaten. Maybe she's walking as a Walker now," she looked at Glenn who smirked.

"Good girl gone dead," he joked and Charlie gasped in shock that he secretly loved the singer.

When she finally pulled over and stopped the car the reality hit her and seeing the vehicles with "USMC" - United States Marine Corps, sign on them, triggered her. She stepped her foot behind the cut fence and looked around on the tents and cars. There were still American flags here and there and the whole base looked untouched. Some corpses were left on the ground, due to the sun they would soon melt with the pavement.

Did her brothers suffered like that? That became the only question she had while walking through the base.

"Okay, I think I got it," said Zach, which brought Charlie's attention. She thought that he found something useful or rare.

"Got what?" Michonne furrowed her eyebrows when she saw he was just sitting down, probably expecting the same thing as Charlie.

"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn," he answered.

Charlie soffed. There was no way that Zac would guess that in such a short time. She was trying to guess from the first week she met him."How long it has been? Six weeks?"

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself," Zac nodded and then looked at Daryl. "One shot a day."

"All right, shoot."

"Well, the way you're at the prison, you being on the council, you're able to track, you're helping people, but you're still being kind of..."

"An asshole?" Charlie asked earning a death stare from the hunter.

"Surly," Zac corrected her. "Big swing here...Homicide cop."

Michonne laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked. "Hmm?"

"It makes lerfect sense," Michone said.

"The man's right," the hunter nodded. "Undercover. I don't like talking about it. It was a lot of heavy shit, you know?" Charlie smiled under her nose, knowing that Daryl was messing with a boy. She liked this version of Dixon, though - relaxed and chill. He smirked as he saw her smiling and looking away.

"Dude, really?"

Daryl threw him a stare and Zac nodded his head, clearing his throat. "Okay. I'll just keep trying, I guess."

"Yeah, you keep doing that."

Loud thud.

"Come on, Detectives," Charlie commanded as he saw a Walker on the other side of the glass behind Daryl and the two men raised immediately to their feet.

"Let's do it."

"All right, we go in, stay in formation for the sweep," called Sasha as the corpses of the Walkers were being dragged out of the store. "After that, you all know what you're supposed to look for. Any questions?"

For everyone the plan was pretty clear - entering, looking around, taking products that were crucial and going out. They were supposed to work fast as it wasn't sure if the place was really safe. At the end, it was a supply run, not a Sunday shopping.

"Bob, you coming?" Charlie asked the man that wanted to go with them so badly. He shook his head as if shaking something off his head and turned to face her with a pale smile. Charlie tilted her head and saw the body cut half.

The shop remained untouched which was strange. The military base and the whole accommodation overall was pretty eye catching, so if there was any other group it had to see it. Charlie was placing her feet carefully and as quiet as possible to avoid making unnecessary noise as they couldn't be sure if there wasn't more Walkers.

She was responsible to find small gardening stuff like: gloves, shears, seeds, maybe even some pots, but also stuff that would be useful not only in the garden: all sharp tools, fishing lines, nails, lines, and whatever else she could find.

While looking for the right alley she bumped on her friend, who was standing like a rock."What are you looking at?" Charlie asked as she approached Glenn.

"Nothing," he shook his head and walked away from the spot they were standing. She looked at whatever he was looking before but didn't gave it much thought. Walking away she saw a shelf with Big Cats - Carl's favorites, so she took a bunch and stuffed it in her pockets.

The sound of shattered glass followed by a loud thud stopped her from walking in the right direction.

"What happened?" asked Charlie as she arrived at the place of the incident.

"I was moving fast, man," Bob joked trying to loosen the atmosphere, while being stuck under the shelf with alcohol bottles. "I drove right into the drinks."

"Man, you lucked out," Tyreese said while trying to push the furniture off the man. "If this thing had come down on you the wrong way..." In that moment the roof broke and a Walker fell inside, stopping on whatever it was, dangling from it.

"We should probably go now," Glenn said, looking at it.

"Bob's still stuck!" Charlie called and immediately Daryl was right next to her.

"Let's get him out of there then."

Michonne nodded and looked at Charlie. "We'll get the others."

That's when the roof started breaking in other parts and more Walkers started falling into the store - this time however they weren't stuck, they were hungy and capable of moving, so they did. Charlie tried to run from the dead that already were inside, but still was careful of the breaking roof. In one of the allies she found Glenn on the ground, fighting with a Walker who was millimeters from biting his leg. Charlie saw how he's reaching for a gun and quickly shooting the thing in head, but out of nowhere a second Walker attacked him, so she was acting fast - with a swing motion she killed it with her axe. "Let's go!"

Asian man nodded his head and got up quickly from the floor, running right next to her. They were passing dead bodies - smashed heads with insides completely out. At the end of the alley they saw Daryl who was standing on couple of boxes, shooting Walkers and causing them to fall like dead flies.

"Helicopter!" Glenn screamed. "Daryl, go!"

"Let's get Bob!" Zach yelled as he appeared next to them, reminding them that the man was still stuck under the shelf.

Charlie with a disgusted face dragged the body by its legs and Daryl stomped on its head, smashing it completely. Zach raised the furniture and Dixon helped Bob to escape from under it - probably the last moment before the roof at that place completely disappeared. "Come on, Zach!" she called but instead of his steps she heard the scream.

"Zack!" Glenn screamed as everyone was just standing and observing him replacing Bob. There was no way to help the boy as the dead body was climbing on top of him and biting him on the neck.

She was taken over by panic and uncontrollable fear. It was so long since she saw a picture like that, dead bodies and blood everywhere. It was too late to help him and the only way was to safe her own life by running, but her muscles stopped listening. She was stuck and then she was dragged by someone.

"You good?" Glenn asked once they all were safe near their vehicles. She nodded and he gently patted her back.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Daryl screamed at her. "What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking of..."

"Of yourself!" he yelled.

"What I was supposed to do?!"

"You had this!" he took her little axe and then threw it with anger on the ground. "Why you stood there like an idiot?!"

"Hey!" Glenn walked towards them and stood between, placing his hands on Daryl's chest. "Let's calm down."

"You are banned!" Dixon yelled anyway. "You hear me? I will never allow your presence on the run ever again, if you have no basic survival senses! You want to solve your personal shit? Cool. But not on the run! You come here to help!"

He read her like an opened book. She didn't agree to go on that run because she was interested in the supplies. Charlie agreed on going on that run as soon as she found out there was the Army Camp on the parking lot of the Big Spot. There was an idea, that maybe one of her brother was there - they were in the Army for goodness sake. If she found them there, even just their personal belongings, she would peacefully move her life.

When she got back to her cell, she covered the doors and laid down. Charlie knew she couldn't change her past, what she did to that people she lied, was already done. However, she couldn't swallow not knowing if her family, her own flesh and blood, was dead or alive. There were days when she didn't have time to think about them that much, but since the prison became a place of happiness and there was no psycho wanting to kill them, she had more time to devote every minute to them.

And Daryl knew that. He knew the feeling of not knowing, and he knew the feeling of disappointment.  He regretted yelling at Charlie the moment she walked away and with a force shut the car's doors. And with all honesty he didn't know why he was mad at her.

That's why he acted on his feelings and carefully placed the cloth away. "Hey," Daryl stood at the entrance of the cell. Charlie looked at him without a word. "I'm sorry for what I said back there. I was just scared."

"The great Daryl Dixon scared?"

"Not so great, right?" he scoffed.

"I was scared, too," Charlie said. "I wasn't outside for a long time. I haven't seen a Walker in a wild for a while, so...when I saw it on Zack today..."

"I know," he nodded.

"Also, you were right," she said. "I did went with you thinking of myself," Charlie explained. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Mhm," he nodded. He stepped further into the cell and placed a heavy and cold thing on her laps. It was a bow that he found on one of the runs. It was much better than the one he made for her at the farm, stronger.

"Oh, God," she gasped and looked up. "Where did you found this?"

"At some house," he shrugged. "Took it off the wall for you."

"It's beautiful."

Daryl's cheeks probably turned pink from the way she smiled at him, as it was the most genuine smile she gave him in months. Her eyes were shining bright while looking at him, and he couldn't look at her for too long.

His Charlie was back.

previous masterlist next

[heranubis]

monster cod (dullahans version) ft. 141, kate laswell, alex keller, farah karim, alejandro vargas, rodolfo parra, philip graves

John "Bravo 0-6" Price

where many people mistake mactavish as a werewolf, it's actually price. he has excellent control of his wolf, and is capable of shifting at will rather than relying on the moon cycle.

all of his senses are heightened and his strength far surpasses a regular human. anyone who tries to call him "alpha" gets a growl and eye roll - he find's it annoying and only the rest of the 141 (& kate) can get away with the joke.

is capable of masking his identity of a werewolf, except his eyes will sometimes flash a circle of amber around the pupil - a sign his instincts have been triggered and his wolf is present.

his teeth are incredibly sharp, even in human form. he's not a fan of dentists nor are they a fan of him.

his wolf form more closely resembles a grizzly than an actual wolf - and he definitely uses this as an intimidation factor.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

was actually human, once upon a time. it was a mission gone wrong, a desperate deal made and soul taken away. his body was transformed into a hellhound - think of the ones from chronicles of riddick.

he actually prefers his new hellhound form to his human one! will only be human when absolutely necessary - otherwise you can often spot him prowling around in the shadows, dew claws clicking as he stalks and observes.

his neutral scale color is a faded, smokey gray. when he is content, his scales flush to a lighter, not-quite-white. it's when he's hunting that his scales take on that signature black color - though his face still retains the skull markings similar to the mask he wears as a human.

capable of canid vocalizations in either form, and capable of human speech - he just prefers remaining silent. he also rattles his scales to announce his presence around those he respects or considers pack. everyone else get's a jumpscare when they turn around and there he suddenly is.

will only tolerate pets (read: hard shoulder smacks) from johnny or price. kyle tries, but he doesn't pat hard enough for simon to register through the scales. the effort is appreciated, though.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

a seraphim - or the closest anyone will get to one. four sets of wings, all made of a metal not found on earth. he prefers folding them tightly to his back to avoid accidentally slicing someone.

please don't talk christianity or catholicism with him - he will bolt. he has no issue with religion or anyone being open about it, he just (quite frankly) get's tired of answering the same questions repeatedly.

actually grooms his feathers regularly! though made of metal, they can be very pliant and soft when his body feels like it isn't under active threat. nobody is allowed to sit within his wingspan on horror movie nights unless it's simon, whose scales can't be sliced by the feathers.

if you ask him why he left the clouds - his answer is always the same. his sense of justice was too strong - he wanted to make a change in the world, and he wouldn't wait to do it.

does not have an eternal lifespan and can be killed, but it's incredibly hard to do so. he still hates helicopters and thinks they're pointless (salty that he fell out of one twice).

John "Soap" Mactavish

a kelpie! actually a hybrid between two different species of faer, kelpie is the easiest to identify with. unlike the typical three forms, john only has two: human and horse.

his horse form is a large dark bay, almost impossible to identify it's breed at first glance. the most you'll ever see are those blue eyes and his suspiciously sharp teeth before he pulls you beneath the murky waters.

has a very strong affinity for water, and despite his love for demolitions he will take any chance possible to be submerged. not as big of a fan of salt water than he is fresh or brackish, but he'll take whatever he can get (except chlorine. that is hell and he hates it).

doesn't use his horse form on base - it has a subtle air of influence that tends to draw people in. after a few unfortunate incidences, it's more of an unspoken rule that he can only shift on leave or on field but never on base.

kyle is the only one who has ever been able to sit on his back and his skin not trap him - something about the heavenly blessings? john was a little too stunned to truly pay attention

Kate "Watcher" Laswell

a proper dragon - half of her heart, soul, and lifespan split with her wife. golden scales that grow in patches (like alex, found below) - more like snake skin than harder scales like a crocodiles.

her pupils are slit and while she does have horns, she keeps them short at her wifes request (hard to bonk foreheads comfortably if they get in the way xoxo). her tail isn't super long but that makes it easier for her to keep close and out of the way.

both wings are in tact and she is Not a fan of anyone touching them outside of her wife (and maybe kyle, since she see's him as a good friend and he knows the struggle of cleaning wings).

can absolutely breathe fire, and will do so as a warning.

Alex "Echo 3-1" Keller

a snake hybrid of some sort, specifically a king cobra. patches of scales, fangs that are capable of tucking into his gums, spectacled eyes. he can see in infrared and often finds it annoying when in cold enviornments.

has a forked tongue and absolutely uses it to mess with people. his tattoos and preference for long sleeves actually mask his scales pretty well, so it's easy to mistake him for a human at first glance. he's been known to trick people in the past by randomly flicking his tongue or even unhinging his jaw.

yes, he knows hes larger than a mongoose. yes, they still unsettle him. claims it's natural instinct (he thinks they just look... really weird). hisses as a defense when startled or annoyed, no he will not acknowledge it.

big on seeking others out and sticking close for body heat. farah, price, and kyle are his favorites because of their higher body temps.

has never elaborated on what exactly he is - will give a different answer every time you ask.

Farah Karim

suggested by my beloved noji @blighted-lights, farah would be a harpy or otherwise bird adjacent! i personally see her as some sort of falcon - small and mighty and underestimating her is your very last mistake.

she doesn't bond easily but when she does? she will do absolutely anything for you. she especially loves when you help her preen, it's something she only allows when she feels utterly safe with you.

chirps and coo's when she feels particularly emotional (positive).

she has one of alex's scales and he has one of her feathers. it's a sign of their deep devotion to each other. regardless of romantic or platonic, they are incredibly important to each other and an equal exchange of something so important cannot be ignored.

if you manage to be farah's favorite person? it would melt her heart if you fashioned her feathers into jewelry and even made matching pieces.

Alejandro Vargas

hear me out, but i think he would be a cadejo! a dog shaped creature whose eyes change color depending on it's mood - often seen as either protectors and bringers of good will or the incarnation of the devil.

he stands around the height of a cow, and though his fur is black - alejandro is only a protector of his community. rodolfo often jokingly teases him that he smells like a goat so he very much invests in colognes.

though he doesn't have any visible chains, the sound of them dragging behind him can be heard on especially quiet nights. alongside the sound of his hooves - these are the sounds of safety to the people of las almas.

very much prefers his human form and can mask himself incredibly well.

the most you'll ever see that tells against him being human are his sharp teeth and the subtle color shift in his eyes.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

another shifter, like price! his canid form is actually a Xoloitzcuintli. not a lot of hair and more on the 'traditional' side of hairless. his skin in this form is as dark as his hair as a human, which allows him to blend into shadows better.

much like price, all of his senses are heightened, though he has to be more careful due to little to no fur protecting his skin in altercations (plenty of small scars from chasing after suspects and not being super careful in avoiding obstacles)

yes, he can stand as a traditional werewolf. no, he doesn't do it often - it scares the shit out of ajelandro and while it can be funny, he'd really rather not deal with it.

has exceptional control over his shifting and honestly doesn't have a preference over what form he uses most - just whatevers convenient at the time.

has absolutely pretended to be a regular dog for the sake of an op - has since learned he's a bigger fan of belly rubs than previously thought.

Philip Graves

somewhere between undead and genuine zombie. no he doesn't know how it happened, no he doesn't want to figure it out. no he doesn't want your brains, yes he will bite if you keep bothering him.

constantly smells like rot and sulfur, and his eyes are always just a bit cloudy. his body doesn't fall apart nor does he suffer from rigor mortis, but the cold does not mesh well with him.

incapable of permanently dying - yes he can be put down, but bury him shallow; he Will come back.

please don't call him a zombie, it'll just aggravate him and that's not a fight you want to pick. shadow company is protective of him and vice versa.

has complete cognotive functions alongside physical functions - can very easily pass as a regular person if you look past the more... obvious signs pointing otherwise.