#but i can’t get behind her being interpreted as a good mother

[inamindfarfaraway]

Monroe boys headcanons, with some canon facts to have all my thoughts about them in one place:

Trent: born in 2008; green-eyed and has Gerald’s curly hair; Linda’s least favourite; is learning her arrogance, intimidating charisma, boldness, ruthlessness, cynicism, ambition and desperate need for validation, which is exactly why she doesn’t like him, their relationship similar to her and Roman’s relationship when she was younger; easily bored; the worst-behaved at home; popular at school through fear and force of personality; resents all his brothers for having more of their mother’s favour than him, River most of all, whose ‘weakness’ he despises because it reminds him of the parts of himself he’s determined to extinguish; acts like an angel in front of and sucks up to adults besides his parents, partly out of pragmatism, partly out of hunger for approval that he refuses to seek from his ‘inferior’ fellow kids; skilled at tennis, badminton and archery: favourite colour is red

Seaton: born in 2009; not Gerald’s; brown-eyed; follows Trent’s lead and emulates him, having always been in his shadow; his submissiveness in that context belies a more patient, scheming, manipulative, vindictive cruel streak of his own that he saves for personal vendettas and small-scale harassment used as an outlet for his anger and dissatisfaction, happy to leave the bigger picture dominance to Trent and turn being underestimated in comparison into an advantage; the best at effective verbal abuse; prides himself on his social and strategic cleverness and envies Jordan’s academic and intellectual intelligence; secretly ashamed that he doesn’t do quite as well in his classes and feels the need to cheat to try to get perfect grades and make his parents proud; loves animals, especially horses, foxes and dogs, does horse riding and really wants a pet dog (Roman keeps trying to get him into pigs, to no avail); favourite colour is purple

Jordan: born in 2011; not Gerald’s; blue-eyed; the closest to Gerald, often found talking to him about plastic surgery; interested in science, mathematics, fashion and cosmetics; very intelligent and an excellent student, hence Linda’s second favourite; quiet, withdrawn and reflective, has learned to internalize his feelings to not inconvenience his parents and lose their love; the second most ambitious after Trent, but channels it into academic pursuits; joins his older brothers in bullying River only because they’ll turn on him otherwise for his sensitive and nerdy sides, and sometimes do anyway when River isn’t around; however, lacks internal malice (‘strength’ in his family) and is self-aware of this supposed deficit, so keeps himself useful to Trent and Seaton by giving them backup and ideas to be powerful and respected and torment people that he, at least independently, would never have the heart to act on; favourite colour is blue

River: born in 2014; brown-eyed; Linda’s favourite; kind and open thanks to his guileless innocence and being the happiest; the only one with genuine friends; though also spoiled and can be unthinkingly, accidentally insensitive to others’ feelings; creative and imaginative; loves cartoons, musicals and art, his drawings actually talented for his age and all over the Monroes’ fridge; favourite colour is green

In conclusion, they all need therapy and a healthy home environment. A theme with the older three, the eldest two most of all, is that they’ve been led to believe that love is fundamentally conditional. So River being showered in it when he ‘hasn’t done anything’ feels infuriatingly unjust and hypocritical of their parents. Somebody direct Duke Keane to the Monroes. Linda and Gerald may love each other, but they clearly aren’t good parents. I hope in one of the infinite timelines this family has a serious intervention and the boys get to grow up with good role models. They’re kids, guys, they deserve the chance to change.

And yes, Seaton is in Tim’s class (they hate each other).

[impactedfates]

Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking that because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of their extremely harsh training sessions the reader decides to run away especially after one particularly rough training session where the reader was injured after they accidentally talked back and that night the reader starts packing their stuff but they accidentally left behind their late mother's pendant and Blade found it the next morning. (I hope you're okay with writing this and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or good night ☺️)

A/N: Hihi!! Dw I'm okay with writing this, thanks for the request! I hope you're having a good morning/afternoon/night as well :) This is not how I personally interpreted Blade, however to fit in with this request, I tried my best to match it up based on said request. I hope this oneshot is too your liking, I tried my best to follow the prompt of your thing. Tbh I don't like what I've written much but I hope you can enjoy it anyways.

W.C: 1389

Warnings: Blade is a bad dad, small mentions of death (Readers Mom and some mara struck soldiers), small mentions of blood, angst ending (I think?), most definitely an ooc Blade honestly...,semi-proof read as always.

((Reader is a teen in this))

Blade's sword slashed through the mara struck beings. His eyes cautiously looking everywhere to ensure he wouldn’t get surprised attacked. Soon the surrounding mara struck enemies where no more. He was able to go back home and see his love.

He called out her name, expecting a reply back. But all that filled his ears was eerily silence…he didn’t walk too far away from her did he?

He paused a bit and called out again, still no response, he was quick to turn and speed walked in the direction he saw her last. Eyes slightly widening as he spotted who he was looking for on the ground, bleeding out. The mara struck soldier who was responsible, right beside them about to deal a final blow, Blade quickly moved and slashed it, it disappeared into dust. But he had no time to celebrate his victory as he quickly crouched down and lifted up his love.

All she could do was weakly turn to him.

“I managed to kill it the first time…b-but their revival state was much stronger than I first thought…how stupid am I huh?”

She spoke, her hands quickly lifted to her mouth as she coughed, blood coming out. Blade was beyond concerned.

“I’ll…I’ll get you to a healer…just hang on tight”

He had softly said, standing up slowly, trying his best to make his way to a nearby healer he could threaten to heal her or just go back to the Stellaron Hunters Base to get her treated.

“Bladie…there’s no need…I-I don’t think I’d make it anyways…”

“Don’t say that, I just have to be quick”

He answered her quickly, shaking his head before cursing under his breath about the whereabouts of Kafka.

“Bladie…me and you both know I won’t make it…so…can you make a promise to me?”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t going too…I won’t let it happen”

Blade's voice rang out once more, but he knew she was right but he just won’t accept it. He can’t.

“Promise me you’ll take care of our kid…make them have a happy life…even if it is in this awful world…even if I’m not there…make sure they’re able to protect themselves as well so they won’t suffer the same fate as me…promise me?”

“S-stop…y-you aren’t g-going too…” 

“Promise me”

Blade stood still from where he was, halting his actions. He stared at her for a bit before looking away. “I promise…”

.

.

.

“Dad p-please can we rest…f-for just a minute”

Your voice ran out tiredly in the training room, your hands on your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. Your eyes glance up to your father, Blade. His sword was still in hand as he looked at you. Showing no emotion like always. He slowly made his way to you, out of instinct you moved back, until your back hit a wall.

“How do you think you’ll be able to protect yourself if you cannot withstand this training?”

He spoke, his eyes narrowing a bit at your form, as he folded his arms. Your breathing slowed a bit as you looked to the ground.

“T-these training sessions…are getting too hard for me…c-can’t we for once just…go out to eat or s-something” “What do you mean by that?”

You took a deep breath in, lifting your head up, eyes meeting his.

“W-we used to go out a lot w-when mom was still here”

You start, not failing to notice the way he tightened his grip on his sword by the very mention of your mother.

“M-mom…s-she would’ve liked if I was resting…I-I don’t think she’d like it if you or I were overworking ourselves with training”

“Your mothers gone”

Blade speaks, inching forward, his arms to his side as his eyes glare at you. You knew that bringing your mother up would strike a nerve in Blade, you knew how much he loved her. But you felt like this was the only way he’d listen.

“Yes, I know b-but…she would’ve wanted us to be happy, to n-not always train too-”

“She’s gone.”

Your father repeated, his grip on the sword increasing with each word that passed through your lips. You shut your mouth for a second, breathing in. Trying to calm yourself and giving your father some time to calm himself as well. Soon your father spoke up again.

“I lost your mother…I’m not losing you just because you couldn’t protect yourself”

“You’re not even there for me anyways, why do you care!?”

“Because I promised your mother!”

“Well you’re not doing a very good job at keeping that promise are you!”

.

.

.

It was quick, maybe you went out of line with what you said, maybe you didn’t. But the next thing you knew was Blade's sword stabbed on the wall next to your head, but also the feeling of blood trickling down your cheek. Your hand had lifted slowly to check the cut, it wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t small either.

Blades heaving breathing filled the room, his eyes looking at the floor before slowly to your face. He slowly moved back a bit upon seeing the cut on your cheek. He hadn’t meant too…he just…snapped. He only intended to stab his sword on the wall, not to hurt you in any way but he failed anyway. He quickly moved away from you and looked to the side before speaking up in a quiet voice.

“…I’m-”

“I’m going to my room”

And now here you were, packing your bags. You had already patched up your wound, but you didn’t want to stay for any longer.

You double, triple checked you had everything before waiting until the dead of night to sneak out. You didn’t know where you’d be going but…anywhere away from your so-called father right?

And despite all your checking, you seemed to have missed the gift your mother wanted to give you before she died.

.

.

.

Blade couldn’t sleep, he lay in bed breathing slowly thinking about what happened…he was so concentrated on fulfilling the promise to ensure you could protect yourself that he forgot he also promised to make you happy. He knew he’d have a long way to go if he wanted to do that but…he’ll start.

The next morning comes along, and although Blade didn’t get as much sleep as he probably should’ve. He was thinking of ways to try and get your forgiveness.

Slowly he got off his bed and made his way to your room, he’ll check on you first. Hopefully you’ll be okay with listening to him.

He knocked once, twice, three times on the door. No response, the only thing was silence. He tried again.

And again.

And…again…

Each round of knocking grew louder and desperate as time went on. The same aching feeling he had in his heart when he realised his old love wasn’t responding…now it was his kid that wasn’t.

But they were just mad at him right?...That’s gotta be it.

“...I’m coming in”

He spoke, slowly opening the door to an empty room, he opened the door wider and looked around. Where were you? You’re hiding right? You gotta be hiding. He looked around.

“...[Name]...come out…this isn’t funny”

He spoke, looking around the room, hoping you’d jump out at him.

“If this is payback for what…happened…then I deserve it, but please come out”

He tried again. His eyes looked everywhere in the room, until it caught on something shining in the sunlight. He walked over, it was your mothers late pendant. His hand slowly reached for it, his thumb slowly running over the gem in the middle. He paused for a bit before clutching onto it. Making his way out of the room in silence.

Perhaps he was dumb to think you’d stick around after what happened and how he treated you. How he’d only really converse or hang out with you if it was training.

But he had hoped he would be able to fix it before you grew resentful of him…perhaps he was dumb on that part too. Somehow seeing the pendant in the empty room made him realise that not only did he lose his love, but also you. It made him finally accept that you ran away from home...from him.

And not only that, he couldn’t fulfil a part of the promise he made.

To make you have a happy life.

My friend who I asked to read through it said it was giving Endeavour vibes and I have no idea how to feel about that...maybe that's part of the reason why I don't like this fic...

[emmitaaa4]

I want to preface this little rant by saying that I am all for ship and let ship—at the end of the day none of this has any significance, and we should all get to enjoy our silly little ships to our heart’s content. Me personally I just want Elain to do whatever the hell she wants and be happy in the end. That being said, rn I just felt like getting something off my chest.

From what I have seen and understood, most of The Other Side believes that Azriel feels entitled to Elain. That he sees her as a sexual object, or at the very most as a rebound he doesn’t truly care for, nor respect; he does not think of her beyond what he can get from her sexually. They say his attitude towards her is toxic in its ‘possessiveness’; he doesn’t consider her an equal, for he sees her as a perpetual damsel in distress he must save; his attraction to her / feelings for her are a symptom of some twisted trauma response.

We know that they believe that. We’ve heard it. Over and over and over. Since 2021. Hell, everybody’s momma probably knows it, too, with the way that rhetoric is spread. But Elriels have made it plenty clear that we have a very different interpretation of the text and do NOT agree with those assessments of Azriel (nor half the things the poor man is diagnosed with, bless his fictional soul), considering what we do know of Azriel’s character and his relationship with Elain, based on the books--and yes, the bonus (see this, this, and this post). Otherwise—i.e. if we believed him an incel x fuckboy hybrid (probs the first of his kind!) who is only interested in getting her in is bed—we would obviously not be shipping them together: most of us (99% I’d say lol) care about Elain more than we do Az, or care about them both just as much.

So it is getting pretty tiring to see us shippers—the actual humans behind the screen—labelled as having a toxic/immature view of what love is, of being “too young/naive” to see the supposed red flags, of mistaking lust for love because we have not experienced a healthy relationship (?), of actually promoting toxic relationships & advocating for toxic masculinity (which someone told me on tiktok just now)(stay away from tiktok, folks). Those generalizations are wild to me, not only because they are wildly untrue and condescending, but because Elriels are a colorful bunch, you know—when you’re speaking of the fandom Villain™, you’re speaking of people of every demographic, speaking of daughters mothers grandmothers, depressed uni students (pardon the self-insert), etc... I need to get thicker skin, but those statements can get pretty hurtful in the long run. And I’m tired of feeling the need to justify myself as if we’re wrong for shipping two people who MUTUALLY want one another and lets be serious, no its not “just lust”.

I know I know, I am probably being dramatic. But it’s just weird to see a ship being so demonized and its shippers along with it, all because louder portions of the fandom disagree with our opinions and insist on toxifying ours. Just to be clear, I know that many have had unpleasant experiences/interactions with Elriels, just like many Elriels have had the same with Gwynriels and/or Eluciens. I condone none of the disgusting behaviour I’ve seen from some shippers, and in fact I abhor it. As everyone should.

To end this on a good note.

Elriels, I say we run with it. Az wants Elain for himself. He is jealous and his mind is plagued by thoughts of her. Her presence is too much to bear, for he can’t stand to be in the same room as her and pretend like he feels nothing. He is ready to beg on his knees for a chance to worship her, and it took Nesta one look to see it.

AZ IS OBSESSED AND I SAY WE EMBRACE IT.

[blackopals-world]

May I request a Maid!Yuu x Riddle Rosehearts with the classic trope of “keeping the relationship a secret until they can’t,” please?

feat. Riddles Mom as the antagonist

I could not ignore how good this sounded

The Help

"Your mother? That's wonderful, I'd love to meet her." Yuu said cheerfully as they took an apron off the hook.

"No, you don't. I don't even want to see her but she's coming to visit." Riddle said stepping behind his partner and tying the apron snugly at the waist. "You do remember what I said about my upbringing right?"

"Of course I do. But we can't change her coming so we can't worry about that. We can only remain hopeful that the visit will be pleasant. Even if it isn't being polite is important. After all meeting your in-laws is very important for every relationship." Yuu said sagely.

"...about that." Riddle said nervously.

Almost immediately Yuu narrowed their eyes. They didn't like the sound of that.

Riddle sighed.

"I dont want her to know about us." Riddle said flinching waiting for Yuu to yell at him.

Of course that never came. They would never raise their voice, especially not at Riddle. Yuu only sighed sadly, their shoulder slumped in disappointment.

"I'm sorry." Riddle help one on Yuu's hands.

"Are you ashamed of us?" They asked.

"NO! Never!" Riddle shouted quickly "I just- just don't want her to hurt you. She'd hate anyone I date if she didn't choose them. She would threaten you. She might even get Crowley to keep you from me or worse kick you out of the school."

Yuu didn't like hearing this but relented.

"Fine...fine ugh." Yuu let out a huff of exhaustion. "what's your plan?"

Riddle's plan while not ingenious it was practical. Just pretend we aren't dating. Simple and easy.

Yuu when about their business as usual as they served tea and food in the garden. They kept their head down as they worked.

"I heard you won first place in the equestrian show as expected." Ms.Rosehesrts said over her cup of Earl Gray.

Yuu's mouth twitched in irritation. They chalked it up to the choice of tea the woman asked for.

Did she really ask for the acidic bergamot Earl Grey when the spread clearly called for something less intense? The fruit tarts and chocolate cakes just don't go with that tea. Fortunately, Yuu knew Riddle's tastes well and added vanilla and cream to his cup.

"Do you usually drink such sugary drinks? I swear without me you can't manage yourself." His mother sighed as she looked at the light-colored tea compared to her dark sugarless cup.

Riddle opened his mouth to respond be he was interrupted.

"I'm apologies Ms.Rosehearts. But as the head of the Heartslabyul dorm Master Riddle must set an example. He takes his tea as the great Queen herself did. It is his cross to bear as dutifully follows the rules." Yuu said their head bowed.

The mother shifted her gaze to the servant and glared.

"And who are you?" She asked. The question was rhetorical, she was very aware that Yuu was serving them but her question was more to remind the servent of their place.

"I'm a student here. I work as a maid as well to earn extra money Ms.Rosehearts." Yuu said timidly.

"Oh, I see. Well isn't that lovely but you would do well to mind your own business. It would serve you well in your future line of work." The mother stated.

Riddle tried to interrupt to take his mother's attention away but before he could Yuu spoke.

"I understand. I will keep that in mind." Yuu said looking at the ground.

That clearly wasn't what Riddle's mother wanted to hear as she frowned.

"You understand what? Speak up child and look me in the eye. Perhaps it's too much to expect a servant even an amateur would know how to answer properly. Honestly, even poor parenting is no excuse." She continued.

Yuu nodded and lifted their head. Their face was red and their lower lip trembled.

"My apologies again ma'am. I understand that I shouldn't interpret or comment on your discussions. I also understand that I should properly address you." Yuu said their voice wavering.

"Really then? Then how can you address me as Mr.Rosehearts? You call my son master but fail to show me proper respect. You will call me Mistress as you should." She demanded.

"Mother!" Riddle cut in.

"Quiet! How dare you speak over me! And you!" Ms.Rosehearts pointed at Yuu. "I'm waiting and I'm losing patience with you!"

Yuu felt like a stone was lodged in their throat. Their face felt hot and their eyes stung.

"I-Im sorry. May I b-be excused? I should g-get back." Yuu wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Riddle's heart dropped into his stomach as he saw the fearful expression on Yuu's face.

"No, you may not! Honestly how useless can you be? This is why I never raised my son to be like people like you. Weak, sniveling, and worst of all failures!" Ms.Rosehearts lips curled in disgust.

Tears streamed down Yuu's face as they tried to keep a straight face.

"Mother! You've gone too far! You have no right to talk to them that way!" Riddle pushed his mother aside as he stood between them. "Yuu don't listen to her. She knows nothing about you, about us."

"Riddle, how dare yo-"

"Be quiet! You have said enough! You have not only embarrassed me as your son but you have thoughtlessly insulted my partner! Do you have any empathy at all? Do you think of anyone else but yourself?!" Riddle turned on his mother as he yelled in her face.

"Riddle!" She tried to yell back.

"I said stop talking! Perhaps it was too much to hope that you would act like someone with basic human decency let alone like a proper mother! Do you think this is how you should act toward someone I love? You talked alot about respect but you don’t even know what that means! You only know fear! I want you gone now!" Riddle pointed to the exit as he held Yuu close as they cried.

Riddle's mother turned bright red as she prepared to lash out at the pair. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to see no other than the college's potions professor.

"Ms. Rosehearts I had the displeasure of watching you not only make a fool of yourself but you had the nerve to insult my pup." Crewel growled "You have a lot of nerve to speak to someone else's child like that let alone your own. I hope that in the future you will rethink coming to this campus and even looking at my child."

Riddle's mother clenched her jaw as she saw Riddle comforting his beloved. She then huffed and turned to exit.

"Before you go I wanted to tell you that I got in contact with father. Don't worry about me coming home. I won't be living with you anymore." Riddle said glaring at her.

"Are you okay?" Yuu asked gently running a hand down Riddle's back as he buried his face in Yuu's chest.

"I should be asking you that. I'm sorry. I should have stood up for you earlier." Riddle said.

Yuu laughed.

"You stood up to her though. That's more than I could do; she isn't even my mother. Riddle you were courageous." Yuu said kissing Riddle's cheek. " I may not have a mother-in-law but I'm sure we can manage when we become a family."

Riddle buried himself further, his ear were bright red.

"I haven't even proposed yet. We are hardly family. I still need Crewel's blessing and you know he's hard to please." Riddle can already feel the glare the professor would give.

"On the bright side, it'll be easier than asking your mother for the family ring." Yuu laughed.

(If it helps you can imagine Crewel standing behind Riddle's mother with a chair aimed at her head the entire time. Made me feel better at least)

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

In the middle of my HotD rewatch

The gyroscope of interpretation on this show has been at the forefront of my rewatch along with now having read some of the script and read/watched cast interviews.

This one inference made by Olivia Cooke (via Sarah Hess) has plagued me for the first few episodes.

Now, now I know these waters are really muddy what with a few obvious conceptual things: "isn't this queer baiting" "if it wasn't it wouldn't be good sapphic representation anyway" "this is an actors interpretation" blah blah blah. I'm not arguing any of that.

Just that Olivia's head canon held against this scene hits SO MUCH HARDER

Because I gotta say MY GOD imagine how that strikes Alicent if at some point her mother caught them together. Before they even really knew what they were doing (objectively to the tune of they were 13/14 not fully clear on platonic/romantic love) her mother impressed upon them it was wrong. When they denied and in some way or another Alicent/Rhaenyra saying "she never touched me." Only for Alicent to hear it echoed back to her years later like this... Knowing that even in her naïveté she would recognize the truth. That Alicent’s mother, naturally, kept this contained. Which honestly plays more to truly making Alicent more complex by the way she saw what “scandal” her mother covered up for her only for her to act out some perversion of this with Aegon when she’s a mother. A learned behavior twisted in the worst way, because that's what she knew.

Listen I fully understand that this show is NOT taking this angle even though there seems to be a huge division between what some writers and actors are playing to and the editors at HBO imaginably being like "what's all this gay shit?" BUT

I think it's part of what this show missed about TRAGEDY and I mean come on you want drama???? These girlies were ready to hand it to you on a silver plater! In this context I needed:

Rhaenyra being devastated by the news that Alicent was going to be marrying her father. The sheer heartbreak of “this can’t be happening” and knowing she would have lost Alicent to a husband but not THIS. Show her with Syrax, confiding in her dragon because now she has no other friend to talk to - I’m just saying if they were going with the context of “Fire & Blood itself is an unreliable narrator and only shows certain people’s views” - then a scene like this disrupts nothing. Tell me how when they prayed together and Alicent told her to "kneel with me" that part of Rhaenyra prayed for that world where they flew off on dragon back and ate cake.

Alicent being devastated - having her heart torn in two, crying behind every closed door knowing she was going to break the heart of her best friend. The deleted scene does give a peak of that being the case - but again it could/should have been included. Show me Alicent begging Rhaenyra to forgive her and desperately saying she loves her. I think one of the things that Team Green argues the most could have been explored by this avenue, Alicent is a victim of her marriage - it would be inherently more compelling if in the process she is also losing the closest thing to a "first love" she had. Show me Alicent at her desk writing letters to Rhae once a week and then ceremoniously burning them in the braziers. Alicent leaning more into religion as a means of getting out from under her repressed desires and past actions.

Show me both women struggling in their adulthood to even remember why they held "such childhood affections" for each other. Knock the fucking wind out of me with a line like, "the worst part of it all was that they only ever wanted to love each other."

To me one of the worst parts of this production (of which there's a few) has got to be this was the apex of completely missed opportunities to explore. In the premise of "going by unreliable sources" their queerness would be suppressed information. I even think it plays into the dynamic between Rhae-Alicent-Criston in a kind of "Jennifer's Body" way where Rhae was really only interested in him as the object of Alicent's desires which I believe is made a little clearer in the books. A kind of "see this could have been us if you didn't marry my bag-of-bones father" for Rhaenyra who clearly had no aversion to consorts.

I'm sorry to go on this rant, and yes I KNOW - the counter arguments for many of these points. I would even argue some of them further such as the sapphic representation not being invalidated simply because both women do end up with men in the source material. If this was the case then why was "Portrait of a Lady on Fire" received so well? This at the very least to say if they made Alicent and Rhaenyra explicitly queer it would still be less controversial than what the queer men on that show got … Still its not even to say "it's a better way" to explore more of Rhaenyra and Alicent's characters but its at least A WAY to do it. More than we got. Surely both sides could agree on that.

Sorry, now I'm just being pedantic. As a queer woman naturally I have a bias but I still think this was objectively a missed opportunity to explore. Both girl's back stories could have been enriched and tbh a lot of HOTD fans I know also had the same complaint that the time skip came in too early. I think it also makes things less likely to be so divisive between TG and TB when you look at the central pillars of this conflict. You can truly grieve for Alicent and Rhaenyra and what they lost already while on the verge of losing it all. Anyway, I gotta go cry about my divorced lesbian war wives.

[fireycircus]

I’ve been thinking about Mother 3 a bit and I want to share some things that I think are really cool.

First thing’s first:

I Love Ionia so much

Well I love all the Magi honestly, but Ionia is like my favorite non party member character. She’s so interesting to me with how serious she is about the dark dragon’s awakening compared to the other Magi. The Magi seem very nonchalant about the fate of the islands except for her. I think this ties into how she has more relationships with the people living there. She’s a good friend to Alec while the other Magi don’t know him and I suspect she was the main person to raise Kumatora. Its stated that the Magi were given Kumatora but I don’t think a lot of them did much with her. By how Kumatora acts with Doria when she falls at her house, it seems to me they aren’t particularly close. But Kumatora is close to Ionia. The scene at Chupichupyoi temple is one of my favorites because of this. Ionia knows and understands Kumatora probably the most out of any npc we encounter. And the way Kumatora reacts to Ionia’s disappearance fucking KILLS ME. The game doesn’t let you hang onto that moment much, but it’s always stuck out to me. Previously Kumatora hasn’t really shown much sadness, only points of anger and frustration when things upset her. So to see her genuinely sad about something tells me just how close she was to Ionia.

Random Discussion Point 2: I think it’s really neat how Psi awakenings act like a subconscious defense system. I’ll keep this one brief. Every time someone awakens to new Psi it’s because of a dangerous situation, usually massive strikes of lightening or Psi being directed at them or even the fevers they get. I like the extra context behind the nature of Psi.

And lastly, some stuff about Locria. It’s really hard to feel any empathy for Locria after we’ve known them as Fassad. However, when you think about how Porky basically corrupted them first it gets kinda sad. The mouse in Locria’s house says that they used to dote over them excessively. I think it’s important to note that the detail of goodness we get about Locria is one to do with animals. We all know that what they did to Salsa was messed up. Porky made everything on the Nowhere Islands do a complete 180 and it’s fitting that he started by making one of it’s native inhabitants who is spiritually connected to the islands his first target. I can’t imagine what he did or said to make Locria change so horrifically.

*I saw an interpretation in the reblogs that Locria was always like that and they were just given an outlet to be the worst they could be. I like this idea as well, since it still gives impact to the plot while showing that some people just aren’t redeemable or have a good reason for doing bad. I wanted to share my thoughts with the person who added that but it was a tag so I added it in editing if that’s okay.

Anyways that’s all, just had to get these thoughts out of my system

[littleguyconnor]

I want to talk about spy so I’m going to talk about spy. Would you like to listen?

I’m gonna be talking about his leaving behind his family, so I want to preface this by saying I don’t have personal experience with this and I’m just looking at it from an objective point and making conclusions based on what we know.

First of all. I don’t think scout was an accident. One, because I find it really hard to believe spy would fuck up like that with his history of being promiscuous, and two, because of the very specific phrasing he uses. When scouts dying, he says “27 years ago I dropped a sex bomb on your mother”. To me this sounds like they’d been planning to have a child, or at least were thinking about it. I can’t really interpret this any other way, it just genuinely doesn’t sound like it was an accident to me.

Anyway, what could’ve happened and what I’m led to believe, is that the stress of having a child, having a family, to take care of while still being young himself got to him more than he expected. He loved scouts mom. He loved her a lot, and I think he went along with having a family purely because he knew she wanted one. But he just wasn’t ready. Love alone can’t support a family, no matter how much you try, and spy failed to be a good father. He couldn’t be. And so he left. Rather than stay and make it worse. None of this was good, none of this should’ve happened, and he knows that, more than anything. He has been riddled with guilt and shame and grief for years.

And while leaving his family (obviously) wasn’t good and fractured the way scout lived his life permanently in some aspects, I think it’s important to understand that he didn’t do it on purpose. Or that he did it simply because he was a harlot of some kind that just left his women the second things got hard. He loves people deeply and often and it gets him hurt every time.

[allthingsencanto]

It’s legit been almost 8 MONTHS since Encanto came out, and still, every time I think about why Bruno left, I get so emotional. The fact that the reason behind his disappearance wasn’t even because he was treated illy and seen as a monster by the village, but rather it was just to protect his niece and……..I CAN’T.

After Mirabel didn’t get her gift, this man had a vision about her, seeing her in front of the castia with it breaking. Even though he didn’t know what it meant, what he DID know was that everyone was going to interpret his vision as negative, because that’s what he was known for. The bad omen, the town creep, the bad luck charm. He knew that his mother was so afraid, so worried about the magic dying, and he knew that if she and everyone else were to see this, things would NOT look good for Mirabel. And so, Bruno left, and hid the vision, with possibly no plans of returning. This man disappeared, sacrificing everything, the relationship with his mother, his sisters, his FAMILY, EVERYONE, and was willing to be painted as a monster who didn’t care about his family JUST so Mirabel wouldn’t have to go through the same thing he did growing up. So she wouldn’t be painted as a bad omen, so she wouldn’t be outcasted, so she could grow up happy and live her life as a regular person without being treated like a burden. He was willing to watch his family from afar, willing to take all the blame, willing to be apart from a family he loved dearly for 10 YEARS, just so his niece could live in peace. Best…..uncle…….EVER. 😭👏💚

[ninjagirlstar5]

Protag Teruya AU - Kokoro Mitsume Design

Kokoro, I love you, but you’re also kinda messed up, and LINUJ’s writing doesn’t really help. And I’m not saying that because people with alexithymia can’t be bad people because that would be ableist and puts people with that condition on a pedestal and almost “babies” them. It’s just the way LINUJ wrote her being a bad person because of her alexithymia and not because she chose to be a bad person is…*sighs* Yeah. I’ll try my best to write Kokoro, but it really depends on my skills and the research I’ve done. Especially since she’s the mastermind in the Protag Teruya AU.

Due to Kokoro being the mastermind, she’s not going to be a good person at all throughout the story. But I want to make it clear that she’s doing this because she wants to do it and not because of her alexithymia. And since she’s a Void, that means she met Utsuro when they were both children so she’s about the same age as Teruya. I’m not completely sure what kind of Fortune Utsuro blessed her with, I just know for sure that she only gets blessed once compared to Mikado since I don’t think there would be a reason as to why Kokoro would see him again except for that one time. But the best one I could think of is one that allows her to read and judge people’s emotions better than anyone else so she could help her mother with her research better. She still needs to collect data and the context of the situation in order to understand why someone reacts the way they do, but otherwise she’s skilled enough to come across as a mind-reader. And she only improved over time with her studies as a psychologist, trying to understand cognitive, emotion, and social behaviors by observing, interpreting, and recording how people relate to others and their environment. She deals with it very objectively, though, and can come off as quite distant due to her difficulty in expressing emotions. She still can’t easily identify or describe her own emotions like other people can. The best one she can confidently identify is curiosity but other emotions need a bit more context clues and are dependent on how strong they are for her to understand what kind of emotion she’s feeling at the moment. Nonetheless, her Fortune allowed her to be in a position that improved her relationship with her mother…supposedly. She’s been pursuing her mother’s research for most of her life as it’s all she has left of her and it’s the only thing she knows she’s good at. And it’s not like she doesn’t want to do it either. It’s something she’s become…passionate about. And she will do anything to complete that research.

But first, she has to revive Utsuro. Because without that Fortune, she may lose her edge in psychology and it’s bad enough that the members in the lab that are significantly older than her don’t really like taking orders from someone so much younger than them. The only reason they follow her is because her skills are clearly above theirs and the data and research she puts out in the field of psychology makes her a fantastic asset as someone to guide the other lab members in their own studies as they work together. If she loses that Fortune, someone may notice the dip in quality in her psychology work and usurp her, preventing her from continuing her mother’s project as she was only able to access it as the boss of the lab. She can’t let that happen. She refuses to let that happen. And if it means starting a killing game underneath the lab and doing it behind everyone’s backs, she will do it.

As for her relation to Mikako, I’m thinking that Kokoro and Mikako are siblings but I can’t decide if I want to make them fraternal twins or make Kokoro about two years older than Mikako. Either way, that connection is still there. But it’s still quite…fragmented, I guess you can say.

As for her design, since she’s about the same age as Teruya and Mikako (at least before she, you know, died), I used her teenage self as a base but changed her clothes and hairstyle to show how different she is compared to her teenage self. AI!Mikado had a slight change in appearance with his cape and glitchy appearance so I thought it’d be fitting to show what Kokoro really looks like as a young adult. Since she took over her mother’s lab, she has to keep up the appearance of a professional psychologist, so no sweatpants, slippers and tank tops for her. She tries to accommodate for this by having a loose appearance that still looks professional, with her hair tied up, a vest, Mary Janes, a long skirt and a bow tie. And of course, the lab coat she wears almost everywhere. Because she’s so hard at work with her research and such, she also has bags underneath her eyes to show that she’s not nearly getting enough sleep as she should.

I’m hoping to write Kokoro well as the mastermind without making it ableist, and I think these concepts are a good start. It’s just a matter of whether or not I can execute these well. But if anyone has any pointers with these ideas and critiques about them, I’m open to hearing them. I want to write this as respectfully as possible, after all.

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!

[esotl]

Performance - Chapter 11 (Part 20)

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Characters: Hokuto, Wataru

Translation Directory

It's known as a tragedy, and yet, I can't agree with that assessment.

Location: Inside a Train

Wataru: In actuality... I've never once come across one, a person who declares "I want to be like Hibiki Wataru!"

Which is to say, I am indeed still half-baked.

Hokuto: That's because you're out of the norm... No-one can even dream of being like you.

The more I come to know you, the more I feel that distance, too.

Wataru: Eh~ even though I'm close enough for you to touch? Please do your best, Hokuto-kun!

When I first saw you, I was a bit inspired.

"Aah, he's imitating my hairstyle," I thought... "Perhaps he wants to become like me."

Remembering the previous conversation, I held an interest in you...

Your mother must have predicted that, and tied your hair in a braid.

That's why I said she's discerning.

Her preparation is flawless, she knows all about a performer's weak points. Because if you're faced with someone imitating you, there's no way you could be unhappy.

Though, with just a few minutes of talking to you, I could tell you had no interest in me at all...

You only think of yourself, don't you?

Hokuto: Should I not? I don't have time to think about other things right now, and aren't I the one who thinks of myself the most?

There's no-one who thinks of me, of Hidaka Hokuto, so... I'm the one who has to consider me, to produce me.

Wataru: Right. That's the natural and correct answer, people don't really think about others often.

Though I personally don't have much interest in myself~ that seems to be rather unusual.

I'm always thinking about the characters in works of art, and the people surrounding them.

"Hibiki Wataru" is the means by which, the point of contact for interacting with those kinds of lovely things.

Hokuto: You're pretty distorted, aren't you... Are all "geniuses" like that?

Wataru: What do you think? Geniuses, no, all people are slightly different from each other.

You can't analyse all of humanity on an individual level using inflexible interpretations or common consensus.

That's why. You, who is captivated by such things, is rather laughable.

Hokuto: Hmph... I feel like I'm being made fun of by a clown.

Wataru: What a fitting phrase! Ahaha, chatting like this is fun...☆

Hokuto: Isn't this is strangely conceptual for a "chat"?

Wataru: Perhaps it is, by common consensus' standards! You're still restraining yourself, is your braid a chain or something, Hokuto-kun?

Be more flexible!

Relatedly... I just so happen to have tickets for a play being held at a theatre near the next stop!

Would you care to join me?

It's a rather intriguing stage, quite avant-garde... perhaps your sense of values will change upon seeing it!

Hokuto: I refuse. School is starting soon, I shouldn't skip.

Wataru: Isn't it fine every now and then? Let's be bad boys together~♪

Even if you do as your parents say like a good boy, it's not like you'll be rewarded for it, will you?

Hokuto: Don't interpret me like a character from a story.

Wataru: Apologies, it's an unconscious habit! This is troubling though, I didn't imagine you'd refuse.

Even after I went through all the trouble of moving you onto a different train without waking you?

Hokuto: So you're the reason I'm going to be late for school? I thought it was strange for me to sleep past my stop.

Wataru: Apologies, I just love tricks like that!

When faced with unexpected developments, humans always reveal some sort of interesting reaction without fail!

Getting mad, losing their cool, being bewildered, speaking unfavorably of me...

They confront me without hiding their true face behind a mask, or at least, they don't ignore me.

Hokuto: Did your parents not care about you as a kid?

Well, whatever. I already studied the contents of today's lessons last night, so it won't be a huge problem if I don't attend.

Even if I'm not there, I doubt anyone would notice.

I'll accompany you, President. But only for today - it'll be a problem if I'm constantly getting kidnapped to places I don't know.

Wataru: "Kidnapped" makes it sound scandalous... But I'm glad, let's have fun watching a play together.

Both acting and viewing are lonely when done by yourself. Let's snack on popcorn and excitedly discuss our thoughts with each other.

Japan has strict theatre manners, but plays have been that sort of event since time immemorial. Like in Shakespeare's time.

Hokuto: Don't speak like you were there for it, President.

Wataru: I've been doing my research you know, Shakespeare's a classic after all.

As is the play we're going to see today, "Romeo and Juliet"♪

It's known as a tragedy, and yet, I can't agree with that assessment.

Hokuto: ? Isn't it a standard tragedy?

Wataru: If you think about it using the common rules of this fleeting world, yes. But they were surely united after death, no?

One committed suicide, the other committed murder, so they certainly both fell into hell together.

However, "wherever you are is Heaven"... is what's conveyed in the play.

Because they went so far as to repeat such a sentiment over and over, time after time, the ending is not a tragedy.

Death is not the end, nor is it hopelessness. It is proof that they were finally together.

It's a connection, a blessing. That is how I interpreted the story's meaning.

If it's not true, then... Ah, God, Shakespeare, for what purpose did you document the suffering of this man and woman?

To sneer at these pitiful two, or else, to feel self-satisfied in your pity for them?

No - "Romeo and Juliet" is a congratulatory address for the two being united for eternity!

[Chapter 10 • Directory • Act 8]

[uptoolateart]

Right so im a little bit in love with your fic ‘If I Let Myself Love You’

Scratch that- I’m in love with it with my whole heart.

It’s so heartbreakingly profound. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have original fiction published because the writing is simply gorgeous. Totally could see this being one of those under the radar fanfic to original books that id just eat up.

The character’s are just so full. It’s sweet how fast of friends Marinette and Adrien were- and just makes the fact it was too fast crushing. I’m a pile of goo just reading their stories.

I love your interpretation of canon especially. Making Felix his brother, making their bond so clear and how Felix is being so stubborn but will regret it if he can’t make up with Adrien in time. Each relationship explores the sides of grief and mourning. Adrien and Marinette have lost someone and relate because of that. In some ways Marinette is putting herself under the same pressure to be perfect that Adrien is under as not to disturb her mother or make things worse for her dad (which omg how dare you do that to him in the latest chapter)

Adrien and Felix is break down in family’s. Marinette and Alya the strain it places on friendship- the impossibility of her situation and how to help her. Marinette and Felix sharing another layer of the act of seeing someone sickly but death not taking them at the same time health is not guaranteed. Adrien being jealous of that layer and that fact he never wants for his condition to be the cause of so much pain.

It’s so complex and deep and just magnificent. From the bottom of my heart thank you for writing this.

Going to go read your other works to cope with the cliff hanger in the mean time

@sizzleissues I quite sincerely cried on a bus, when I first read this. I don't even know what to say. My writing dream has always been to move someone the way my favourite books move me. I guess I've succeeded!

I've actually been trying to write 'If I Let Myself Love You' in various forms since I was very young. There's a story behind it, which I was planning on sharing at the end of the fic. It's been emotional, putting it together after all these years and reading the comments from total strangers with no obligation to say anything nice to me. Thank you tremendously for reaching out and letting me know. I can't express how much it means to me to get a message like this. Any reply I can give is hopelessly inadequate.

Also...maybe you could tell the literary agents I'm currently contacting!!! 'Psst, she's good - take her novel!!!!' Kidding - but no, I am not published. I write loads of non-fic stuff, though, and am gradually sending my latest book to agents. It can be a demoralising process. It's easy to doubt yourself and question if you're any good. Messages like yours give me the confidence to keep putting myself out there until someone takes my book.

Again - enormous thanks xx

[harleyification]

Hey look, I finally got to write some Moon Son!!! I’ve been heavily inspired by Lollipencil to start seriously writing for this AU, and so I decided to start at the beginning…how I think it all began. However, heed the tags, because this starts really dark. This idea has been traveling around in my brain for several months now, a culmination of A. Letting Marc and the others become a fist of Khonshu early, B. Their mother being shitty and abusive like in the show, and C. The comics interpretation of Marc possibly getting DID due to almost getting killed multiple times in his life.

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence (nothing too graphic but there is a lot of blood), attempted murder, attempted maternal filicide, hints of physical and mental abuse. Please be careful reading this, and enjoy.

It’s hard to breathe. His chest hurts, with every staggering breath making his collapsing lungs ache, each one sounding like a death rattle.

Because that’s exactly what it is – a death rattle.

Marc can’t remember how he got here tonight. The memories were blurry amongst the last few minutes, quickly fading away as blood loss settled in. Red pools dragged behind him in a trail as the teen desperately tried to crawl away from the monster behind him, trying to find help. But no one is around, it’s just the two of them, and she’s still looming over him like a predator that has caught their prey. Marc can see her shadow and the knife that she clutches in her hand.

Marc doesn’t look back around. The room is getting dizzy.. He needs to hurry, he– he doesn’t want to die, please– he’s only fifteen, and his life was shitty, and he hates his abusive mom and his neglectful dad who let it continue, but he never thought that she would ever go this far. He never fucking thought that she would ever take it this fucking far.

She’s saying something behind him, but the words hardly register. They sound shocked. There were repetitions of “...my god, my good lord, what have I done…”, but Marc doesn’t turn back around. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s so fucking scared, one hand clutching onto his wounds and the other grasping the wooden floor to slide himself away.

All of a sudden, the chattering from the monster came to an end. There was resolute silence for a mere second, the only sound being Marc’s labored and pained grunts. Then, the sound of shoes walking away, leaving him to die slowly and... alone.

But he doesn’t look back. He fucking can’t.

Not when the doors and the phone and help was so, so far away, and he’s losing himself rapidly.

“Help…” he calls out, but it sounds far away to him. One hand forward, pull his body with it. One hand forward…and pull…reach forward… and…

He’s slipping. He can feel it. It should be scary, but more than anything he is exhausted.

He comes to a rest at the foot of something hard. Gazing up tiredly, his blurry vision makes out the stone mask of some kind of bird-faced humanoid. It was small, miniature, meant to be a decoration for wherever they were. Funny enough, despite its uncanniness, Marc can’t look away. It was better to look at it than at his lonely surroundings, he kind of thinks…

He will close his eyes for a minute. Just for a minute…then he’ll…ask for help…

—

"Hmm… a little young to be a fist. A bit too young, maybe. But it has been centuries, and I require someone, anyone, to take up the role at last. What do you say, child? Would you like to live and get away from the ones who have hurt you most?

….

All I ask in return is that you shall fight in my name and do the bidding of the night. Protect travelers who walk underneath the stars, in every way that you must, no matter the deed. Whenever the shadows demand it, you must heed their calls. Protect the lost ones, as you were once before.

…

Good. Very well. This will be very interesting indeed. Now, sleep child. Your body must heal. I shall guide you to safety."

—

Wary eyes blink open to minimal light in a sea of darkness. He was dizzy, his eyes swimming momentarily as his hand reached up to rub his temples. The teen looks around, eyeing his surroundings with open confusion as everything registers around him.

He was in an alley. A dingy, fucked up one too, as it had trash everywhere and there were mysterious stains on the concrete not too far beside him. The sources of light were coming from street lamps that lit up the asphalt streets and illuminated the boy’s uncomfortable hidey-hole.

He gets up, grunting as his aching limbs protest. “What in the bloody hell…?” he mutters to himself as he cautiously steps out into the open, seeing no one in sight. The streets were empty, the city was silent, and there was no moon or stars to be seen in the smoggy sky.

And just as suddenly, the quiet was destroyed by the sound of distant gunshots. The teen looks towards their direction and makes a mental note to not fucking go anywhere near there anytime soon.

The boy steps further out into the light, and almost screams when he sees the sight of his own bloody hands and clothes. They were fucking caked in red, making the teen look down the front of his shirt to see where it was he was hurt.

But…there was nothing. He pulls up his sleeves, and his skin was still unharmed.

That just makes it worse though. He gulps, shoving his hands into his pockets as if it would hide the crime scene that he practically emits. If the blood isn’t his, and if he can’t remember where it came from…then that just makes things a hell of a lot harder to figure out.

Steven has woken up many times before in weird settings and situations, but waking up has never been like this before.

There was the sound of sirens now, police and ambulance alike. There was the gleam of a needle on the building’s corner that glowed in the streetlight, prompting Steven to walk even faster. There was even the distant resonant sound of hair-raising cackling, as if through a speaker.

“Sheesh. With this commotion, you’d think I’d somehow wound up in Gotham…” Steven grumbles as he hunches himself down lower, trying to be inconspicuous.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, or what’s going on, or what his plan is exactly, but…but there is always one thing Steve knows that he is good at and can rely on.

He can figure things out. He’ll be able to get through this and make his way back home, surviving on the streets if he has to. He’s sure of it.

[disastergenius]

Details from the Deaf West Spring Awakening pt1

Alright because apparently I’m falling back into my Deaf West Spring Awakening obsession again, here is my running list of favorite details that are in the most beautiful show I’ve ever seen. based on the Wallis version which is my favorite version i’ve seen (to be added to in future)

·       Because ive only seen the bootleg, I hadn’t ever seen the dress/guitar pass at the beginning of the show until I watched rehearsal footage, but it’s so simple and good to establish the show.

·       The enraptured way that all the cast signs/sings through Mama Who Bore Me with Wendla. Everyone else being allowed to move except for Moritz.

·       While Wendla sings Mama Who Bore Me, her mother washes her hands and I don’t really know what this is meant to symbolize but it feels like it should have some deeper meaning about wanting to communicate and still being unable to

·       The “her whole…heart” joke with Wendla’s mother beginning to sign ‘vagina’ and then moving it up to make ‘heart’

·       I always forget Patrick Page is in this because he like, never talks about it and no one ever asks him about it when they go through past shows he’s been in. I guess he’s got a very long career with more iconic roles than Adult Men in DWSA but I’m sad he rarely gets to talk about it.

·       This setting where the Voices are all relegated to sitting where you can barely see them is another very good establishing moment

·       Melchior signing when the teacher isn’t looking so his deaf classmates can follow along in the conversation as well, even signing a bit behind his back

·       What do you think they’re writing on the blackboards during All That’s Known?

·       While Moritz and Melchior talk about his dreams, and they talk about their fellow classmates; Otto isn’t paying attention so he doesn’t notice, but Georg does and gives the best “wtf” face in the background

·       The tapping the table for timing cues when Moritz starts Bitch of Living

·       the JUMP off the desk! YES Alex Boniello!

·       The lighting of this show is obviously extremely important in both a interpretive way to give meaning and as lighting cues for everyone to note, but I think Bitch of Living is where this becomes most apparent

·       The minor inclusion of Sean being Bobby Mahler in his khakis

·       Otto’s little roll under the table

·       Ilse on the balcony during the start of My Junk is so sad. She can see them but can’t join them.

·       Everything about the Desdemona scene is funnier, it’s so clever for them to literally give him a hand

·       Otto and Ernst covering their eyes when Frau Grossenbussenhalster and Georg

·       Ernst’s voice circling Hanschen on the bicycle despite him being surrounded by the girls previously, good foreshadowing

·       Also the little spin he does with Ali Stroker is cool staging

·       “It’s as if the whole world is obsessed with penis and vagina” what an ace mood (to be clear, Melchior is very much not ace but what a relatable sentiment)

·       I loved listening to Alex and Daniel explain the way that jokes get lost in translation because of course they would, especially the timing, but it’s something that doesn’t really make sense until you see it and it’s very smart of them to figure out a way to make sure it plays every time they do it

·       The cigarette pass between Moritz and his voice

·       This isn’t technically show specific, but thankful for the Seth Meyers performance for being the closest thing we’re going to get to a proshot and they did it the correct way by not focusing on the singing actors but by focusing on the signing actors

·       The circles being so personally drawn, then rubbed away in haste and embarrassment

·       Oh the ship

·       I really like that they put the 3 guitarists up on the overhead balcony for this part, you can’t see it really well but that’s a neat thing for staging

·       Also cannot imagine having to carry the double bass around that stage all the time

·       The pairs and symbolism has already been dissected but it’s beautiful every time

·       Frankly one could write an essay on this musical and a whole separate one just on all that they put into Touch Me

·       The tree is actually very cool to me in the way that it is constructed and the callback later in the graveyard where they are then individual trees, apart from each other

·       the different places they put the sign for bruise on each other, such good symbolism

·       Moritz not hugging Hanschen, good for him

·       I love how they imply that one of the reasons Moritz is not passed even though they have the space is because of him being Deaf, especially with the Milan Conference decisions hanging over the school plotlines. They never have to say it and yet it is crystal clear just why the teachers don’t care

·       The Dark I Know Well is another song you do a lot of analysis on. My personal interpretation has always been that the girls (+Ernst) are representing either experiences they have had or ones they are in danger of. Sort of in the way that 1/3 women experience sexual harassment/abuse, so literally everyone knows someone who has or has been a victim. The boys are both the perpetrators, reaching out and still appearing like a threat (circling the bed, grouped together with arms outstretched, not lovingly but grabbing). The adult man could be trying to stop them but he does the same movement, showing he is just as guilty (reminds me of the idea of, they know people who have done this but if they don’t speak out against them it doesn’t matter)

·       The hand on the ankle is a signal for Marta to start her verse with Ilse but it ends up being slightly terrifying in this interpretation. Like she’s literally never free from this experience of someone touching her

·       The beating scene is so weirdly fascinating in this version, I love the staging but it still plays weird to me

·       The gun being the same gun moritz later uses is so so sad

·       I love the decision to make Moritz’s father deaf as well because the communication theme ends up being about parents and children (the original). We don’t need Moritz’s father to be disappointed in him because he is deaf and failing, we already have that in the school. They have the same problems as everyone else in many ways

·       Frau Gabor never once looks at Moritz during And Then There Were None. She looks towards him, she looks around him, she walks by him. She never looks at him. He is pleading with her, signing at her, begging her to notice him struggling

·       Mirror Blue Night what a weird song: staging is gorgeous though, although I understand the confusion from a deaf audience who would have no idea what is happening, the good news is that the hearing audience also has no idea

·       So very happy they didn’t go for the animal masks

·       Oh the consent angle for this entire hayloft scene is so so interesting but I do not have the ability to discuss that without yelling

·       The very obvious religious imagery they use with two of them dressed as alter boys swinging their lanterns is a good costuming choice

This got very long so part 2 incoming

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[thegeminisage]

john abused both dean AND sam, just differently. in this essay i will

prove that the abuse manifested in different ways for each of them because that’s how abuse works in real life. this is based on the fact that john saw dean as mary’s surrogate but once he found out about the deal and sam having demon blood he blamed sam for her death. ok let’s fucking go

dean as mary’s surrogate

there are loads of parallels made between dean and mary in early season spn and late season spn. in season 12 dean directly calls himself sam’s mother, but even earlier than that we see him doing the cooking and child rearing. compare that to all the parallels made between sam and john (both of them losing their blonde woman significant others in a ceiling fire) and it’s clear that dean was meant to more resemble mary. it’s not a stretch to say that if we can see it as viewers this is how john saw it in his actual life. i do think john loves dean for being dean but he loves him more for being mary.

sam as the reason behind mary’s death

i think once john learned that sam had demon blood, some part of him must have always been waiting for the other shoe to drop with sam, not ever fully believing this kid was human, and maybe not even knowing if this kid was HIS. a popular theory back in the day was that YED fathered sam (something they had to actually address in season 4 to stop the speculation), and if WE speculated that hard, surely john must have too. i’m sure he loves sam as an extension of mary, and keeps and raises and protects him BECAUSE he’s mary’s, but similarly (or maybe inverse) to dean, i don’t know if he ever fully gave himself permission to love sam for being sam. in fact, i imagine john harbors a lot of self-loathing for failing to save mary. if we directly parallel john and sam, that means by some extent he would also hate sam.

john trusted dean with far too much, and sam with far too little

dean knew about monsters; sam didn’t. dean had memories of their mother and the night she died, and shared that trauma of watching her die with john; sam didn’t. dean knew when john was supposed to be home and who to call if he wasn’t; sam didn’t. dean was given the money and the guns and the CAR ITSELF; sam wasn’t. dean was taught to drive; SAM WASN’T. 

dean was expected to do everything john was supposed to have been doing in his absence - he was to be a mother and father to sam, he was supposed to protect sam from evil, he was supposed to see to sam’s meals and homework and getting to school on time. and he was put under an EXTRAORDINARY amount of pressure not to screw this up even a little bit, despite the fact that he was only a kid. sam on the other hand was kept on a strict need-to-know basis for his entire life, right up until season 1 when they reunite at last. john didn’t trust sam with ANYTHING, and sam knew it. this contributed to his lifelong anger issues because he didn’t DO anything to warrant that kind of mistrust and probably got gaslit about it a lot of times either by john himself or dean (unknowingly, by parroting/believing the things john said). even in the pilot sam says very casually of his mother “she’s gone,” because her memory doesn’t hold the same place of reverence for him - best guess is that john didn’t talk about her much to sam because he didn’t trust sam with emotional stuff either. in s14 we learn that dean was the one who told sam stories about mary, including her terrible casserole - and their attempt at recreating it infuriated john to the point of him throwing the entire concoction in the trash.

john relied on dean for everything, and refused to rely on sam for anything

canonically dean was the one who comforted john after a bad hunt, looked after and fed his brother when john wasn’t around. dean knew how to use a shotgun; sam didn’t. dean knew who to call in an emergency; sam didn’t. dean knew about monsters; sam didn’t. this was done under the guise of “protection for sammy” but turn it around and it’s also protection FROM sammy. think of how angry john gets when he learns sam has been having psychic visions. he’s not just angry that dean didn’t report it to him, he’s angry that the demon’s plans for sam are coming to pass, and that sam is becoming less human. again, he can’t TRUST sam if sam’s not human, and it proves to john that he was right all along to keep sam in the dark as much as possible.

john gave dean too much freedom, and sam no freedom at all

“watch out for sammy.” sam was under constant supervision by either dean or john; john made sure of it. again, it’s protection FOR sam but also protection FROM him, in case he did something inhuman or evil. dean on the other hand was left alone without any supervision at all for days or even weeks at a time - he resorts to stealing bread and peanut butter and (according to jackles) turning tricks for money. he had to make it work and got up to whatever the fuck he wanted when john wasn’t looking. sam had to LITERALLY run away from home before he got the simple pleasure of eating pizza and having a dog by himself, independently. dean was given too much independence and freedom but sam was kept on such a short leash he had none at all.

john made dean feel unworthy, and he made sam feel unclean

when dean fails to protect sam from the shtriga in the season 1 flashbacks, he says his dad looked at him differently after. he also implies that john physically beat him when sam ran away in flagstaff. whether he meant to or not, john made it abundantly clear that his love for dean was not unconditional; it depended very much on how well dean performed the multitude of tasks john assigned him. dean grew up believing that his only worth was in what he could do for other people. he demonstrates this an an adult over and over and over, from letting his possessed family members beat him up to refusing to take care of his own needs, emotional and otherwise, and snapping at people who try to talk to him about his own feelings.

on the other hand, sam talks in season 8 about how even at a very young age he felt impure and unclean, even before he knew that he had demon blood, even before he knew that there was any such thing as monsters. kids aren’t stupid, and sam picked up on the vibes john was putting off - that john didn’t trust him, might not have loved him, and might not have considered him human or even his own child. without even knowing why, he spent his entire life feeling unclean and inhuman, not worth of being loved by his own family. even dean, who we all know loves sam unconditionally, admits in season 14 that he often took dad’s side on arguments because he had “his own stuff,” further leading to the alienation that was sam’s constant companion growing up. 

AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY:

JOHN’S ABUSE PITTED SAM AND DEAN AGAINST EACH OTHER

john saved dean after their shared trauma of mary’s death. dean says in season 1 that the reason he stopped talking was that he was scared. iirc john’s journal implies he was mute for over a year, and dean in season 2 says that when he was 6 or 7 his dad took him shooting for the first time. if mary died just before dean’s fifth birthday, the timeline works out to dean talking again because john took him shooting. i believe that dean hero worships his father because after mary’s death, and dealing with the terror that something like that could come in and take his family away by killing them horribly at any time without any warning, john learning to fight back against the darkness - and teaching dean to do the same - is what gave dean his voice again. BOTH of them saw and carried the memory of mary burning on the ceiling for the rest of their lives. “watch out for sammy” and “get the thing that killed mom” were dean’s reasons to get up in the morning, because they were john’s reasons to get up in the morning. these things were LITERALLY his reasons for living. john gave dean a way to fight back against fear and gave him a cause to keep him going. abuse or not, dean never stopped being grateful for that, and he was the only other person in the whole world who understood the unique horror of what john went through that night. even all the way into season 10, he tells other people that john did right by him. it’s borderline brainwashing. part of dean’s self-worth will always be based on how good of a son he was to john.

on the other hand, knowingly or not, john did everything possible to alienate sam. he kept him on a short leash while also keeping him at arm’s distance. he didn’t trust sam with emotional things like the memory of mary, he didn’t trust sam with the truth about monsters and what they did for a living, he didn’t trust sam with his plans, he didn’t trust sam with the truth about demon blood. canon STRONGLY suggests john knew YED bled in sam’s mouth as a baby, but instead of telling sam or even dean about that, sam had to learn about it in a horrible flashback recreated by YED himself. when sam wanted to go to school, john told him no, and when he left anyway, john told him not to come back.

this is an equal but opposite kind of abuse. john totally fucked up BOTH his kids in complete inversions to each other.

which means that, no matter what john did, it caused sam and dean to fight. this isn’t an interpretation. this is straight up canon.

again, dean says in s14 that he frequently took dad’s side in arguments because he had his own stuff to deal with, and he was trying to keep the peace. dean, a victim of emotional (and implied sometimes physical) abuse himself, was not able to shield sam from all of john’s bullshit. he could stop sam from getting hit and having to see john during the worst of his drunken rages, but he couldn’t trick sam into thinking john loved him unconditionally, because john didn’t love either of his kids unconditionally.

when john acted in a way that was not befitting of a parent, sam rightfully took exception, which forced dean (who was ALSO BEING ABUSED, almost brainwashed) to jump to his defense. that led to john getting to do whatever the hell he wanted and sam and dean arguing about the effects. when sam ran away in flagstaff, DEAN was punished, leading dean to resenting sam for that incursion, even though sam was perfectly right to want to get away from an abusive household. when sam did a normal thing wanting to leave for college at age 18, he left, and dean resented him for that because that meant he was alone to bear the brunt of john’s anger. 

sam repeatedly made logical, emotionally healthy choices in attempting to break the family dynamic, but because of JOHN’S BEHAVIOR, not sam’s, those choices wound up causing dean harm. JOHN HIMSELF was the ultimate wedge between sam and dean growing up and beyond.

and let’s not forget the biggest sin - john spent 22 years impressing upon dean that taking care of sammy was EVERYTHING, and then without any explanation at all, he asked dean to kill him, and then he DIED, which meant dean had to carry that weight by himself (because again, he’s been trained not to trust sam with things). like of COURSE sam got angry when he found out - that’s fucking fucked up! once again sam is being treated like a ticking time bomb for absolutely no reason - he didn’t ask to have demon blood or psychic visions or a dead mom or an abusive father. nor did dean ask to be saddled with the upbringing of an entire human at four years old who he then might have to kill. because dean will always feel gratitude towards john, and sam will always feel resentment, and because based on john’s treatment of them BOTH OF THESE FEELINGS ARE JUSTIFIED, john continues to cause fights between sam and dean long after he’s dead and gone, and that will never change.

on a final note: i’d like to bring this around to season 13.

after cas, mary, kelly, and crowley all die (or are presumed dead in mary’s case) in the season 12 finale, season 13 opens with nobody but sam and dean and jack. dean directly blames jack for these deaths. he says so multiple times. he says where jack can hear him that he knows jack is evil and impure and cannot be saved and calls jack a freak. when jack tries repeatedly to kill himself dean says to jack’s face not to bother, because WHEN jack does go bad, dean will be the one to kill him. dean does NOT see jack as castiel’s child - he sees jack as someone who brainwashed cas and kelly both and got them killed. dean does not even see jack as a human person worthy of life. from the get-go, all he wants is to put jack down. jack is born into a world shaped by pain and grief and anger, where people hate him simply for what he is and who died to get him here. 

and again, sam identifies hard with jack. he justifiably protests dean’s treatment of him. jack is a kid and didn’t ask for any of this. jack is terrified of dean. sam reminds dean that john said all these things about sam that dean is saying about jack. john is still causing a rift between his sons over a decade after his death.

eventually, after jack uses his powers and brings back cas from the empty, dean pulls his head out of his ass and admits that he was wrong. he calls jack his kid more than once, and jack refers to dean as one of his dads. but the damage has already been done. jack struggles multiple times with his powers, accidentally hurting people and then wishing himself dead after. he also struggles without them; even when using his powers means using up pieces of his soul, he does it, because dean taught him that he’s only worthy of being loved and trusted if he’s “good.” even when he has NO SOUL, when jack does something bad he panics about it and seeks to undo it at any cost. that’s how deep the damage runs.

i see a lot of people remarking that in the arc of 13.01-13.05, dean became john, and i agree that he did. but dean didn’t do to jack what john did to him. dean did to jack what john did to SAM.

[spn masterpost]

[movedtodykedvonte]

If you’re not busy how bout a headcanon for how the four lords would react to their s/o, a doctor/field medic, somehow healing them of their cadou parasites and returning them to their normal selves

If you can't afford medical treatment just get your doctor S/O to do a quick surgery. It's legal and fun!!

Here's a cut cause this bad boy is long

Alcina Dimitrescu

You two had discussed it and agreed that it needed to be done. The girls would be in constant danger from BSAA/Blue Umbrella if Alcina was still such a strong bio-weapon.

She had worries; would she be weaker? Would she need to worry about her blood disease again? How would she protect her daughters? You assured her that you two would figure it out, that you would never do this if you thought it would do more harm than good.

The girls protested, saying they could handle whatever was thrown at them but Alcina hushed them, explaining that it was for her sake as well. It was only so long until BSAA stopped letting her get away with literal murder, no matter how necessary.

You had explained the most likely and best outcome, that she'd be cured and all the effects reversed, that she'd need regular infusions of blood and may feel weaker. You tried to treat her like a regular patient, the coldness of being a medic, but the worry loomed over you.

It was a quick procedure, the cadou just as it had smoothly integrated with Alcina, had been slipped out, the changes almost just as quick.

Her skin became humanly pale, no longer a porcelain white, wrinkles showing the age she was when infected, her height dwindling. You didn't account for her to wake up as quick as she did and had to dive to catch her as she wobbled of the operating table, not yet used to her smaller size.

"A mirror" "Are you sure, Alcina? Maybe you should-" "I want a mirror now" She was demanding, but you understood how justified that was. You only had a small one for operating on you but it would have to do.

She pulled at her face, a look of disdain as she inspecting the face of a mortal woman instead of an immortal lord. Seeing this you came up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist like you were never able to fully do before, and planted a kiss on her cheek, now noticing how warm it was compared to her previous form

"I look horrid" "You look beautiful" The comment drew a smile from her, but you could still sense the doubt in her.

She stayed in her room for a while, you being the only one allowed entrance to tend her: Infusions, getting her used to human food rather than humans for food. Alcina insisted she fully recovers before her girls saw her as to not incite panic.

It was tough on her to be distant with her girls, but tougher on them to not see her after such a harrowing surgery.

When the girls first saw her it was as if they were interacting with a valuable and fragile vase, none of them wanted to get close in fear of hurting her, but they desperately wanted to inspect their mother.

"I'm not made of paper, an embrace won't kill me." It was lovely seeing them perk up at their mother's usual sass and even more relieving when they practically dove into her arms, bombarding her with questions on how she felt.

There were many things to still discuss, but for now, everyone was happy.

Donna Beneviento

Donna surprisingly brought it up to you first. You were having tea having a calm conversation with Angie for once. The mood felt off for that alone but for the whole day it felt off, now you knew why.

She wanted a normal life with you, one free of the mold and her dependence on her dolls. It was all a crutch and she wanted to start to walk without it.

You asked if she was sure, the dolls, especially Angie, meant so much to her, you didn't want to do it unless she was positively certain

"We've made our mind up, Y/N. We want this." Angie's serious response and Donna's nod were a startling confirmation. You set a date and prepared the tools for the procedure

Before all of that, you set up a party for Donna and Angie, placing all the dolls for one last goodbye. "Surprise!" You pop out with all the dolls, you suspect she knew as the dolls came to life to yell as well but she was crying tears of joy either way.

She said goodbye to all the dolls individually, thanking them for being there for her as she shut down her cadou in each of them. Donna told you that Angie didn't want to go until she had to. You understood completely.

On the day of the procedure, you knelt down to Angie and hugged her. She was always a little bit of a pain to you and she found you a bit dull but in the end, you cared and you were going to miss her rambunctiousness. You spared yourself the tears of a verbal goodbye as you placed her on the operating table next to Donna, she feigned unconscious to mimic her sedated friend.

It was slow and grueling to remove the cadou carefully from her face and skull, you wanted to leave as little scarring as possible. Donna had just stopped wearing the veil and you had no desire to be the reason it came back on

The procedure was no less easy as every amount removed, you noticed Angie appearing even more lifeless.

When it was done, she woke up, her working eye blinking under the bright lights of your operating chambers. She did not address you but immediately turned to Angie. You had not an idea of how she knew she was lying next to her

"Angie?" There was no response and you could see the tears forming as she slowly reached for her best friend, caressing the inanimate face. You took her other hand and squeezed it, before lifting it to your lips and planting a kiss.

Recovering was less physical than mental. Occasionally she'd ask her dolls a question, you'd catch her staring sorrowfully at them as they stared back unblinking. It was even worse when you heard her call for Angie, knowing it was impossible for her to respond.

Sometimes you'd find her staring out the window, holding Angie as she took in the horizon.

"It's difficult... She was always there for me." She stared at Angie, brushing the veil from her face as the setting sun leaked in. You sat next to her, leaning in close so you could support Angie's slumped head... Donna smiled at the action. "But, I suppose there's a lot else for me too." Donna rested her head on your shoulder, now looking at the broad horizon before you both.

Salvatore Moreau

It hurt you like nothing else to see Salvatore live in constant pain and suffering. You had done wonders for the hurt of loneliness but physically he was still in agony.

He has insisted not to burden yourself with him and that he was used to it, but the more he assured you the less you actually felt comforted. It came to a head one day that all he was doing was vomiting. You were sure you saw red at some point

"Stop saying you're fine!" "I'm used to it, Y/N" "Well I'm not!" You were a medic, it had become an instinct to stop people from being in pain, and Moreau made it flare up.

He refused to be operated on, making up excuses or insisting it was not a big deal to him after all these years. Clearly, you could tell it was something else, something he wasn't telling you but he refused to let it slip. It became a strain on your relationship. It felt bad but you had to threaten to leave if he was not going to be honest. He owed you that.

You felt even worse when you found out. "I'm scared it would get worse!" You realized that the last time Moreau was likely on an operating table, it turned him into what he was now. It was beyond inconsiderate to try and force him through it again.

For a while, you dropped it, letting the waters calm... until another vomiting fit happened and you thought you might lose him.

Luckily you didn't and unluckily for Moreau he had to see you're tear-ridden face the whole time, unable to assure you he would be fine due to the wretching. A day later he agreed to let you try.

You were relieved but now it went on to how you were exactly going to do this. You were unsure if removing the cadou would be enough to rid him of the tumors or if you would be on that too, you had no intention to make things worse like he feared.

A while passed as you collected the tools and set up an area in the reservoir to operate, everytime you made progress Moreau strayed farther from the area.

You finally finished and Moreau was off lurking in the waters, much like a child hiding from getting a shot. "Are you ready?" "Yes." "Are you lying?" "Yes." You were happy he found humor in the situation but you needed confidence.

You practically held his hand the whole way to the table, both to keep him from escaping to the water and a half for comforting, his grip did not slip until you had fully sedated him.

The procedure was more difficult than ever expected, the tumors were gelatinous and blocked the way to his cadou. You had to be careful not to burst one as well as not to accidentally paralyze him due to the proximity to his spine. It was slow and meticulous but eventually, you got it all.

Nothing happened. He laid unconscious on the table, cadou thoroughly gone, you made sure... but nothing happened. Did you fail? Was there another one? You pondered the possibilities but quickly stood up as the tumors began to swell, becoming enflamed before one burst, an acidic substance barely missing you and melting part of the floor. As more popped you took cover as not to get burned.

The grotesque sounds of bursting meat slowly faded, becoming less frequent until they stopped, but you waited, ensuring you did not accidentally get splashed by a straggler.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name from a familiar deep but the somehow less nauseous voice made you peer from around your cover, a man all too foreign and all too familiar sat dazed-looking on the table.

"Salvatore?" {Insert your own description of Moreau, I don't want to intrude on anyone's interpretation.} "Y/N!" He immediately tried to get off the table to come to you before you quickly stopped him, remnants of acid a very real danger. You covered a path and made your way to him, stopping at the edge of the table. "Did it work?"

Something about the question seemed laughable as you assumed the feeling would be completely different, but you still pulled a mirror close and let him marvel at a face he had long forgotten.

"Did I make it worse?" It was a snarky remark at his previous fears, probably a little insensitive but at the moment he smiled, suddenly pulling you into your first full kiss in your relationship. "Not at all."

Karl Heisenberg

You were helping him in the factory one day, decommissioning the more specialized soldats at the request of BSAA. You being less tech-oriented focused on the less mechanical soldiers while Karl took on the scrap heavy ones.

Having used some Cadou in them, you had to carefully remove that too, to ensure they would not resurrect after the metal was removed. It took no time for Karl to piece together who else that skill could be used on.

"Make space for me on your schedules, Y/N" He lit a cigar after the sentence, not explaining further. "Excuse me?" "You heard me, sweetheart." He ripped a core from another soldat before putting it on the belt to bring it towards you. You stared in disbelief.

"You want me to remove your cadou?" "Yep." "But I thought BSAA was." "I don't want those dick heads snooping in my body like I'm some labrat. You do it." The conversation was quick and honestly, it should have been expected.

Karl had joked with you before that you could take away his cadou. Just snip and a rip and it'd be done. You explained it wasn't that simple and he would chuckle out an agreement, but you could tell that the jokes had an air of seriousness around them. It had been his goal for a while to reverse what had been done to him

Picking a date was the biggest issue. Karl wanted to do it as soon as possible, get it out and be rid of it. You had to explain you needed time to prepare as the place was delicate and a risk. You knew it was out of excitement and anticipation.

When you finally made time, Karl was on the table before you had even put on gloves or disinfected it. "An eager beaver I see?" You tried to bring the humor Karl often did to scenarios like this, but you could see a sense of series on his face, even the glint of his glasses seemed steeled. "I want every trace of that bitch gone."

You nodded, pulling out the syringe to sedate him as you laid him down on the table. Removing his glasses you looked directly in his eyes, there was a trust in his that made you that much more determined. "You ready?" You asked as a medic protocol. "Just stick me doc." You rolled your eyes as he smirked before relishing in the slight scared look he gave the needle when you lifted it before him

The silence of it all unnerved you. Karl was always making wisecracks or jokes to alleviate the dreary mood of the factory. Having him laying silently before you, face still somehow serious while completely relaxed, made it all the more discomforting.

You worked diligently, careful to find all traces of the cadou and to remove them into a jar you had set aside. It was long but you did it with dutiful ease, Karl had waited so long for this and you must do it right

When it was all finished you took the jar, disgusted at the somehow living organism inside. How could she put this in someone she considered her child. Bitch, was too kind a word Karl used for her. You took the jar to a furnace, throwing it in and watching the thing wriggle frantically before burning to a crisp.

Coming back to the table you found Karl stirring awake, groggily holding himself up on his forearms. "So, how'd it go?" "You tell me?"

Karl looked around the room, his hammer resting in the corner. Focusing on it he waited for the item to float toward him, yet it remained still. After a minute of nothing he stopped, a slow chuckle emerging from him, melding into a proud laugh.

"Well, I'll be damned, Y/N. You've outdone yourself." He began patting himself in search of a cigar. You pulled one from the side table and offered it, snatching it away before he could get a grasp on it. "No smoking until you're fully healed."

He shook his head, chuckling a little more before sitting up and pulling you close. Tilting your head up he locked your lips together. Pulling apart he smiled, "Whatever you say, doc."

I completely forgot that Moreau was a doctor and honestly I should've added something about medical knowledge but its super late and I have a job interview to get up for.