#but instead of inflicting real damage they just make you cry over them instead

[southsideofchicago]

collecting favourite (traumatized) aftg characters like im collecting pokemon

[sepublic]

Anyhow, in lieu of a recent post, I kinda wanna apply it to another fandom and say this is the reason why I don't think Emmanuel is gonna redeem himself next season, not necessarily at least. Like yeah sure he FEELS bad but to him this is a test from God or whatever so that justifies everything.

He thinks he's someone who accounts for the long-term, unlike these revolutionaries who think only about improving their short-term mortal lives, and thus forsake their long-term afterlife in heaven in the process. Emmanuel think he's long-term and he's gonna outmaneuver Erzsebet, who will be so caught up in using his night creatures to crush the rebellion that she'll fail to account for what happens afterwards when Emmanuel can just turn on her. He thinks he's fucking Solomon with the ring that can control demons.

Emmanuel is just gonna bitch and moan and weep about all the sacrifices he's making but it's the GOOD kind of suffering, like how Christ had to suffer and make sacrifices, because it's a test from God. He compared himself to Abraham and he was even rewarded with a ram in Tera for his devotion!!! So he could absolutely interpret this as proof he's on the right path and double down.

Emmanuel is such a mediocre father. It's heartbreaking that for all of her teenage rage and rebellion, Maria still earnestly cares for him once she finds out he's her dad, she risks it all in trusting him because surely her own dad will come around for her, and she cares!!! She cares for family!!! And then Maria is burned so hard for that trust, she saw Emmanuel weep about sacrificing her and then do it anyway. Maria lost her own mother, a parent who actually cared, because she dared to assume her dad had the same basic decency as Tera did. She's gonna know better, the poor girl... But at what cost?

And Emmanuel is gonna be Oh Woe Is Me!!! when he sees what his beloved has become. But in the end his Christian savior complex matters more than anything else, even if he DOES care for other things. Because if he truly cared for Maria from the start, he'd have quit his position to focus on raising his daughter. But instead he continued to neglect her, and then endanger her with his night creatures, and then finally outright sacrifice Maria. Because being the Christian savior who saves everyone's immortal souls, at the low cost of their mortal lives, matters more. Like god he must've had a savior complex about providing Tera hospitality when they first met.

"You're not gonna spare them, are you?" Shut the fuck up Emmanuel you're gonna cry yourself to sleep over this and then the next morning decide that you've fulfilled your daily Catholic Guilt quota and can go back to being a dickhead because you feel bad so obviously that proves you're a good person right???

And from a meta standpoint, I suspect Emmanuel is the show's version of Shaft, who was a major villain who died resurrecting Dracula and successfully inflicted real damage against the Belmonts for like two hundred years. The similarities between Emmanuel and Shaft are too many and obvious, and it'd be redundant to introduce Shaft when Emmanuel is right there as the evil priest. I suspect they changed his name because Shaft has juvenile connotations in English that the Japanese creators who came up with Shaft weren't aware of, especially when pulling from the German language.

Granted, Isaac changed quite a bit from his game counterpart, as someone who DID die resurrecting Dracula in the source material; But otherwise, the creative liberties is further support for Emmanuel being Shaft in spite of the differences. I don't think Emmanuel will start worshipping Dracula as a coping method; The show kinda burned the bridge with Dracula as a villain, and there isn't really a meaningful connection nor reason for Emmanuel to latch onto that guy in particular.

More likely, he'll latch onto the demon (probably Galamoth) who gave him the forgemaster machine, and that demon will read Emmanuel like an open book -an even easier read than the instruction manual for the machine it provided- and feed into his savior complex, into his self-perception of himself as a tortured and misunderstood genius or some shit. The demon will stroke Emmanuel's ego as salve after the humiliation of S1's finale, and Emmanuel is gonna snort it like copium until he's convinced this demon is an asset sent by God to assist him; Just as Solomon's demons were. He's gonna be played like a fiddle by some higher demon AGAIN be shocked about it. Again.

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 26

Third POV

Swaying. Leaves crushing. Smell of wet tree bark. Eboni can feel herself begin to regain consciousness, but she knows she's no longer in her room. She can feel that she's bound by her hands and feet with rope, tap covering her mouth. They must've gone through her BDSM box for the rope. The teen keeps her eyes close and body limp, knowing someone is behind whoever is carrying her - watching for any sign that she's awake.

Now that the adrenaline has died down, Eboni can feel the damage inflicted by these three women. The pain of her hand is beginning to be unbearable, blood still dripping from her fingertips. Her lip is clearly swollen, one of her eyes is swollen shut, and her jaw is bruised. Her ankle may be broken. She isn't sure yet but can feel the pain all the same. And her ribs, ach so much.

Eboni is enraged. She hates losing fights, but she knows that her overconfidence got the better of her. She isn't in shape and barely has any muscle. She's gotten lazy, gotten comfortable, and she knows this. But right now, she plans to do whatever she can to make it out of this alive - or at least until she gets to see Jeff again.

"Fuck, this bitch is heavy! Why do I have to carry her?!" Jane questions, in frustration.

"Because you still have functioning shoulders." Clockwork snaps back, clearly irritated.

"Why would Jeff mess around with an unfit fat whore? I don't get it!! All those sex toys!? She's clearly fucking other guys! Jeff doesn't share anything!" Nina shouts, walking behind Jane and clockwork to keep her eyes on Eboni.

"I don't know, Nina, and I really don't care. I hate Jeff, but not to the point that I'm going to figure out why he does the shit that he does." Jane huffs.

"He's a piece of shit anyways. The real question is why this bitch gave him the time of day to begin with instead of calling the cops?"

"Ugh! Maybe she works for zalgo and used like a spell or something! She bewitched my Jeff!" Nina cries dramatically, making the other two women roll their eyes.

"Zalgo? What the hell is a zalgo?" Eboni thought to herself, making a note to ask Jeff if she makes it out of this.

"Whatever it is, we'll just beat the answers out of her." Clockwork grins.

"Finally! We're here!" Jane cheers, ready to drop Eboni the moment they step inside.

Nina limps to the door, opening it quietly. She peeks inside, smiling at the fact that no one is in the living room. "Coast is clear!" she whisper shouts pushing the door wide enough for the two of them to enter.

Jane is the first to walk in, throwing Eboni onto the ground. The teen had to hold back her cry of pain, having landed on the side of her injured rib. Eboni can tell the room is dark, with no light on at all. It's quiet for a moment before the sound to footsteps begin to fade away. The teen hears water running for a few minutes before it switches off. The footsteps return, a bucket of ice cold water pouring down onto Eboni.

The teen jolts upward, trying to gasp but can't due to the tap over her mouth. She flutters her eyes, trying to clear her vision. She shakes her head, realizing her bonnet is gone and her hair is completely soaked. Eboni's haur getting wet only fuels her anger.

"Ah, good idea, Jane. That woke her up quick!" Nina giggles.

"That's for being so dang heavy."

Eboni responds with rolling her eyes, earning Jane to grab her hair and toss her into a corner near the staircase. The back of her head hits the wall, a groan leaving from Eboni - but that didn't stop Nina from stepping in and grabbing Eboni's hair.

The two hold a glare off, the fire behind both of their eyes baiting - but Eboni's fire is growing much hotter than Nina's, making Nina punch her square in her nose - blood gushing but Eboni refuses to flinch.

"What the hell did you do to my Jeff!?" She shouts, the grip on her hair getting tighter.

Eboni doesn't answer. She can't with tap covering her mouth. So she deadpans, raising a brow at the female smiling killer. Nina frowns, ripping the tap off of her mouth and then slaps her - making her lip bleed even more. "Answer me!"

Eboni gives Nina a lopsided grin before spitting in her face. Nina gasps, body shaking with rage, "you little -"

Clockwork steps in, nudging Nina out of the way. She kicks Eboni in her ribs, causing the girl to scream in pain. The teen slumps over, holding back her tears. She refuses to cry in front of these women. She will not show any weakness no matter what they do. What does she have to lose? Her life? That's fine with her, but Eboni knows it won't be fine with Jeff. Eboni has to hold out until he returns here.

Clockwork laughs at Eboni's form, leaning down to look at her face to face. "That's for my shoulders, ugly bitch. I dare you to spit in my face."

Eboni, being Eboni, laughs hoarsely and raises her head, spitting point blank onto Clockwork's face. The killer's face turns red from anger, and she slames her boot onto Eboni's head - the girl screaming out from the impact of the floor and Clockwork's boot.

"Starting to see why he toys with you. That fire! We're gonna enjoy burning it out." Clockwork laughs, applying pressure onto her foot.

Eboni screams out again, the three of them laughing at the girl's misery. That is until the light switch clicks upward, revealing two figures standing on the last step. Eboni moves her eyes to see who it may be, recognizing them from her research. Eyeless Jack, the cannibal & BEN DROWNED, the demon look alike of Link.

"What... the hell are you three doing?" EJ is the first to speak, BEN zapping to the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

"Heard screaming through my headset, thought I was hearing shit again." BEN shrugs, making eye contact with Eboni - his eyes widening.

EJ moves near BEN, putting two and two together rather quickly. ".....oh shit you three are royally fucked."

"Oh? So you two knew about Jeff's little play thing?" Jane asks, a bit surprised.

"And didn't tell me!?" Nina screeches, face red in frustration.

All of them begin to bicker, Eboni getting a chance to asses the situation. She pulls at the ropes around her wrist, feeling that it's a bit loose. Sighing in relief, she uses her fingers to try and figure out what kind of knot it is.

"Bowline is the base...finished by an overhand line..." Eboni thought to herself, staying in her position - despite clockwork removing her boot from Eboni's head.

"She's a fucking bitch just like the others he killed, nothing about her is special!" Nina shouts, about to attack Eyeless Jack.

EJ is growing frustrated, and so is BEN. These women have no idea how much Jeff cares for Eboni. No, he doesn't voice it, but they've known him long enough to read him. Something there is developing. They aren't sure what, but if he sees Eboni in this state, they are all as good as dead. No one wants to be between Jeff when his extremely violent rage fits takes full control - everyone knows this, so why would -

Three sets of foot steps make their way down the staircase as the front door is kicked open. All parties involved are in a state of shock - all but Eboni as she locks eyes with her smiling killer. The teen smiles at him, slowly sitting up and slumping against the wall.

"Jeff...."

".....it's about to go down."

[dreamdripdistance]

I'll always love a good Dizz tag rant about how much plastic fabrics suck ass <3

FVDSHKFBHDSUGDEWHJKFBZXJK im glad i have a brand!!! because like if someone doesnt need polyester for a specific purpose for its specific properties, why WOULD you prefer it over a natural fibre for an everyday use????

like. ethically sourced leather (which is a byproduct of the meat industry, cows are always going to be killed or will die for one reason or another, wasting their skin when it could instead be a Really good textile is STUPID and ILLOGICAL) or wool (something that will always be available as long as sheep roam this earth, and DOES NOT harm the animal and actually is integral to their survival!!) or cotton or linen or silk or whatever will always be a better, more ethical and healthier choice!!!!!

like just off the top of my head, linen is always going to be a better choice for bedding than anything else, especially in the way its literally a Stronger textile when wet, and its breathablity and antibacterial properties. all things you want when using and caring for your bedding????

cotton is GREAT for underwear and clothing kept close to the skin because of its breathablity. by the fucking way, ppl with vaginas? if youre wearing polyester underwear Every Day, i hope you know youre literally just inflicting yeast infections upon yourself??? like wearing cute lacy undies is great once in a while, but pleaaaaase. wear (loose fitting) cotton underwear to sleep, especially.

and also, wool is the greatest insulator that you could possibly get, and is key to making sure you dont also sweat (which can be dangerous and also gross even when its extremely cold), and is a great thing to use in your doonas if you can afford it (WHICH I CANT AND I CRY EVERY TIME)

like, yeah theres ethical issues regarding natural textiles, like leather dyeing processes (and that its an animal byproduct, which im not gonna talk about indepth bc idgaf), and the historically (and currently) evil practices being used to farm cotton, and the widespread fast fashion-ification of Everything rn even with natural textile garments.

but like. think about it in comparison to the mass manufacture and discarding of polyester fabrics, and the microplastics going loose in every single wash, and how polyester waste is literally just PLASTIC waste, so when your PU leather coat disintegrates, thats just going to go in the bin, where as a coat made of real leather is going to last for however as long as you can keep it conditioned and protected from damage (which can be fucking DECADES)

also, synthetics are Fine. like they have a time and place especially in the medical field and in situations where you reaaaally dont want anything coming in or out of what youre wearing. nylon was fucking revolutionary as the first entirely synthetic textile so like. i dont hate polyester? but again it has a time and place!!!

like, polyester is cheap as fuck, and if polyester or "cotton rich" (aka poly blend) bedding or clothing is all you can afford or find, then cool! im sorry about that, but i have no qualms about it! ive bought polyester clothing, like, my work pants are all polyester, because they were the cheapest dress pants i could get at kmart that were my size after trying and failing to find smth in an op shop! but like !!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGHGHGHGHHGHGHGHGHHHHH IF SOMEONE HAS THE MEANS TO BUY ACTUAL LEATHER (WITH NO QUALMS WITH REAL LEATHER OR W/E) AND THEN GOES TO DROP HUNDREDS ON A PU LEATHER (AKA PLASTIC) COAT, IM GONNA MAUL THEM!!!!!

anyways in conclusion, as i always say:

[lotusmonkey]

brain is exploding, tumblr box taKE MY THOUGHTS-

Long Shadows LMK au-

Basically, when Wukong got dragged to the Celestial Realm to be executed? Yeah, Macaque- mostly referred to as Liu'er or "Liu"- got dragged with him.

The Celestial Court tried to execute Wukong in many, many ways. They failed.

Liu, however, was not seven times over immortal. They... "succeeded."

Wukong was forced to watch as his best friend was executed right before he was stuffed into the furnace. Due to his weeping eyes as the king had been crying over the body of his friend, the resulting steam inflicted far more damage than in the original story we know.

In fact, instead of gaining his true sight, Wukong was terribly blinded.

Not that that stopped him from going on a rampage through the Celestial Realm, or inevitably being stuffed under a mountain. (Wukong could not see to escape Buddha's hand, and ended up crashing into his fingers.)

So, blinded and grieving, there Wukong laid.

...and then he slowly thought himself becoming mad, as with each passing day he could hear his best friend's voice in more and more clarity.

However, he was not going mad. For you see, Liu, in an act of sheer desperation, stuffed the entirety of himself within his core to survive the murder of his physical body. He became an actual living shadow of himself, and it took some time before he had enough strength to actually speak or interact with things outside himself.

Eventually strong enough to remove the seal keeping the mountain in place, Liu freed Wukong. (Which was the moment Wukong knew he was actually real and not some figment of his grieving mind.)

Together, one a literal shadow of himself and the other a blinded, broken king, they made the very, very long journey home to Flower Fruit Mountain.

Which is where they stayed to heal and recover and just live, until a certain Mercy Goddess came knocking to request Wukong's aid in helping a certain monk. She promised that if he completed this task, she would leave him be.

Reluctant, Wukong agreed. Liu, naturally, tagged along without anyone but Wukong aware of him.

As they travelled, Wukong became rather attached to the group despite his efforts to NOT become attached. Liu had no such problems, and in fact somewhat came to resent them due to how they would treat Wukong.

Due to being blind, Wukong could not make eye contact nor could he read. However, way back when Wukong had initially become blind, Liu and he had crafted a glamor as to lower the chances of getting attacked on the way home. (It also gave Wukong a little bit of a sense of control after having his sight ripped from him. After awhile he kept it more for Liu's own peace of mind so enemies wouldn't target his lack of sight.)

So, unaware of his blindness, there were a lot of not so kind jabs to the lack of eye contact and just generally avoiding reading and the such. (When forced to "read" or "look" at something, Liu would just whisper what it said to him or otherwise describe it for him just as he does to help guide Wukong so it's not very obvious that he's blind. If he needed to write, Wukong would carefully hold the writing utensil in a way that it shadowed so Liu could write for him. No one knows what Wukong's own handwriting looked like- or if they did it's been several hundred years or more now- and so no one ever questioned Liu's own distinct handwriting.)

After Wukong (and Liu, bc Liu functions as Wukong's eyes and is just a great help all around) had saved the group from a certain little girl-who-was-NOT-in-fact-a-little girl, and was ripped into for it, Liu decided he was done. This had gone on long enough, and he was tired of tolerating it. Of watching Wukong tolerate it.

This, of course, eventually devolved into an argument between them. A big one. One that resulted in them separating for the first time since the whole Celestial Realm Incident(tm).

A terrible idea, really.

The "little girl" wasn't so defeated after all, and Liu found himself being hunted without Wukong to give him a boost of energy.

Meanwhile, Wukong himself found himself without any sense of vision at all. His staff subtly functioned as a walking stick, and sure he'd trained blindfolded before-

But being entirely without someone else who could describe the things around him was a different kinda animal from being simply blindfolded.

Then, of course, the group gets attacked. Because they get attacked literally every other day to daily.

Long story short, neither Wukong nor Liu fare well and end up crashing back into each other. They quickly agree to sort things out later and once again become an unstoppable team and defeat the ones attacking them.

One, however, gets away to lick her wounds and attack them again later. (You all can probably guess who.)

After that entire fiasco, the monkies swear to never separate again and, while they are both unhappy about each other's opinions on the group, they put aside their differences and continue to travel with said group.

Timeskip to present day, there are very, very few people who know about Liu. But they've all heard the tales of how Heaven's Equal's shadow dances and doesn't always mimic it's source, and how the darkness thickens around the sage like a living thing, and how the king seems to talk to himself at the most oddest of random times. How the Monkey King never looks someone in the eye, and oh, how the myths and fables run wild with that, spinning false truths of all the things that could happen if he DID for none know the truth.

Sun Wukong is blind.

So begins the Lego Monkie Kid show. Let's see how it goes, shall we? :]

[nyashykyunnie]

Might as well hope on the bandwagon. May I please request a Father Xiao scenarios? Maybe his child can be a half-adeptus like ganyu (Child auto-corrected to Childe when I was typing this xD)

A/N: took me awhile to think of a Xiao hc cuz I was tryna choose between some scenarios AHWHEGW Also SAME, MY PHONE AUTCORRECTS INTO CHILDE ALL THE TIME AHAHAGAGSG AND YES XIAO HAVING A HALF-BLOOD CHILD EEE NGL HE GONNA BE EXTRA PROTECTIVE AHADHJADGS I’m so excited for this ehehh. Also tyvm for the req!!! I hope you enjoy this anon!! Btw this was supposed to be for three charas but I got carried away with xiao so ahah,.... Woops =w=;;

𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛! 𝕏𝕚𝕒𝕠 x 𝙶𝙽! 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

.     　﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸.    ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　 ｡　☆　　　ﾟ ＊ 　 ｡　☆ ✦˖

Having a child, with his own blood running through your veins, you being the spitting image of him- Was the last thing Xiao could ever imagine ever happening to him.

It’s understandable that he was really shocked to know you are his. Xiao is, after all, the Conqueror Of Demons. He is more than used to being in battle, always being on high alert and ready to slash any enemy down since it isone of his duties as the Vigilant Yaksha who protects Liyue.

Xiao was very cautious around you. With your small and fragile body, he feared that even touching you was enough to kill you. The Wangshu Inn keeper had to teach him ‘how’ to hold you because Xiao’s fear of holding you might just make him stay ten feet away from you at all costs.

He watches over you from afar, always ready to strike at whatever dares to bring you harm.

Though, most of the time, the yaksha is always leaving you to Verr Goldet’s care so he can fulfill his duties. It was fine at first- Until Verr had to talk to Xiao about it. He told him that he shouldn’t be too focused  on that job. 

She told him the possibilities of his constant negligence of you, she told him you might grow “Deprived From Fatherly Affection”. Xiao was shocked of course, he didn’t really know that. 

He felt guilty, he was so blinded by not wanting to inflict any form of harm on you, he didnt expect that it’ll inevitably lead you to growing some unwanted mindsets and habits.

Xiao isn’t really one for affection, there’s no need to explain that. Majority of his skills are more on the ‘slaughter’ and ‘exorcise’ expertise.

Regardless, he is not just a protector of Liyue now, he is a ‘father’ now. Specifically your father. This new responsibility isn’t something he will run away from.

Don’t expect much from him though. Xiao is still hesitant to some extent, he’s trying to figure out how he will interact with you.

 Unlike him, you’re fragile. More fragile than glass. He’s afraid of exerting accidental force that will lead him to hurting you. You’re just too small- so small can’t even reach pass his knees(Please this yaksha is just overthinking too much)

Baby steps, that’s what he���ll do. Slow and steady so he wont be too overwhelmed.

He starts off by simply talking to you, maybe even playing with you for a bit with enough begging. Xiao slowly got used to handling you as time went by. Verr was even suprised at one point when she saw Xiao handling you during your tantrums. 

Xiao made good progress with you. He didnt even know that he was unconciously getting attached to you, he didnt know that he adored your presence. He didn’t realize that he gets a little frustrated when he needs to leave you behind. Xiao developed his ‘father instincts’ to such a level to the point that he sometimes wished his Yaksha responsibilties were less demanding.

When you are trouled with nightmares- Xiao will put some stuff to wardoff evil. Though, he also heard that child mortals are more effectively comfoted if they are sung a lullaby, so he’ll do that. Just... Don’t tell anyone else or that will be your last (maybe)

The immortal sometimes even comes home with new clothes since he knew that children grow and he wouldn’t want to see you struggling with the small fit ofyour clothing. He also makes sure to put some spells on them too to ward off evil.

 Xiao unconciously spoils you, his mind always drifting; ‘Maybe they’ll like something like that. Mortal children I’ve seen are fond of those stuff’.  Naturally, he’ll make a way to afford that small gift for you. If he cant, then he’ll just learn how to make it himself.

He loves you, he just doesnt know how to convey that. Being an adepti, being raised as a machine for war- Love wasn’t something he is great at. But even if it’s that, he’ll still strive for you secretly. Xiao will no doubt make the most descreet efforts to adore you. He still doubts himself even after all the progress he’s made in becoming close to you.

“Silk Flowers!” You squeel in delight as you spotted a bouquet of it from afar. You dash off from Xiao’s side, making the adepti startled and call out your name.

But still you were a child, of course you just kept running and running until the ground beneath you rumbled at what seems like caused from footsteps. Your feet wobbled and almost knocked you off of your feeting. Then it stopped, a huge shadow looming over your small figure. You look up only to have the color of your face drained.

“D-Daddy!” You cried out in absolute horror, falling down to the ground. You were terrified, how could you not? Monsters were real, and one of those monsters was about to murder you in cold blood. “Daddy! Help!”

Just at the beast was about to swing it’s flaming axe towards you- The  wind shifted, as if slicing through the air and knocking back the mitachurl.

“How dare such filthy demon dare to even make their presence in front of my child, let alone even dare to strike!” Xiao growled, his eyes flaming gold from raw fury as he walked with the air dancing violently around him. “ I’ll make you pay”

Xiao’s voice was flooded with resentment, his primodial jade radiated as it felt it’s master’s sudden abundance in power. He spun it as his Yaksha mask formed in his face. At the roar of the enemy, Xiao leapt forward, striking the demon in overwhelming speed. He moved so fast it’s too the point the mitachurl wasn’t given any chance to react. But was it done? No, not even a little bit. That demon frightened you to the point your voice faltered in calling him. He has seen you in tears but never to this extent. Xiao was fuming as he plunged down, his anemo spears stabbing the enemy with no hint of sympathy. 

When he finally finished the kill, Xiao’s mask disintegrated and immediately walked to your crying state. He clicked his tounge, feeling a huge pang in his heart as he saw you this disheveled.

“Da-daddy!” You wailed, reaching your arms out for him desperately as your tears clouded your eyes. “Waah!”

He wanted to scold you, he really did. But the sight of you crying like this made the words stuck in his throat. Xiao instead lifted you in his arms, letting you bury your face on the crook of his neck and sob freely. You soaked his shoulder and Xiao didn’t complain, he just rubbed your back to let you know he is there.

“Does anywhere hurt?” His nonlachant voice rung in your ears softly, stealing your attention. “If there is, better tell me now or those wounds will cause  further damage in you.”

“[Y-y/n] is bad.” You hicupped. “[Y/N] is so bad daddy is now ou-ouchie. Daddy now hates [Y-Y/N]”

“Hate? You mortals have odd ways of thinking” Xiao sounded a little rough, making you flinch. “Don’t be ridiculous, I would never bear such hostility towards you. Moreover, I’m not hurt. I’ve lived for thousands of years, pain is something minimal for an adepti such as myself.”

He scoffed.

“On the other hand, your life is counted by only one hand. You have yet to experience what life will truly bring you.” Xiao’s voice started to soften bit by bit as he softly squeezes your small body towards him more “However, I am your father. If darkness decides to crawl at your feet and even when you are frigthened of what’s ahead- Call out my name. I’ll always be there.”

“Da-daddy promises?” You look up to stare at his amber orb. “Daddy will make monsters go bye-bye?”

“Yes” He simply answered. “Now stop your noisy crying, we’re going back to eat.”

He appears cold, his way of talking always straight to the point, but still he loves you. Adeptus Xiao, the guardian yaksha, his power will not simply be used in order to slaughter the darkness creeping around Liyue. With his Vision and might as Alatus, the Golden-Winged King,... He will protect you at all costs and raise you no matter how he is troubled regarding his difficulty in making much of emotions.

You are one his greatest gifts, a treasure he will sincerely hold in his heart forevermore. It doesn’t matter if his karmic binds attack him, he will venture out of it for you. 

A/N: AIGHHTT AAAA ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITTING FOR XIAO HNNN, Did I do good??? AAAA I DUNNO AHDKSGF. I hope you all liked it hngghhhh ;___; Also I’m sorry for being inactive a lot AAAAA, school is starting to get mre and more demanding. I have more hcs upcoming so dw! I wont end up completely turning into a dead ghost!

[animepopheart]

Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 7: The Scars to Prove It (or, Love for the Moms, the Cutters, and the Drunks)

Wonder Egg Priority (WEP) has felt like the successor to Puella Magi Madoka Magica in many ways throughout its run, but in episode seven, it almost went full Madomagi by driving the stakes to their utmost height—to the death of one of the main characters. But as has been consistent with WEP, what it did instead, after some moments of true worry, is to instead deliver hope in the face of pain, resolve against overwhelming circumstances, and strength in weakness.

The series returns to Rika Kawai’s story in this episode, which starts with her turning 14. And on her 14th birthday, after leaving her hungover mother halfway asleep at the bar she works at and which they call home, Rika opens up to the rest of the girls, explaining that she doesn’t know her father (it could be any of five possibilities, or even more) and her mom won’t reveal any further information about him. As she trashes her mom, Neiru and Momoe are incredulous, which only drives Rika away from them. And though Ai goes to comfort her, Rika is in a terrible state of mind as she enters her next fight.

This was a difficult episode to watch. They’ve all been somewhat hard since the series never shies away from brutal and violent situations impacting young people, but I found myself squirming especially here as Rika’s cutting takes center stage. At one point, she decides to cut herself and it seems certain she will, before her turtle-like partner, Mannen, prevents it from happening.

Challenging, also, is how strained Rika’s relationship is with her mother, who’s life revolves around drink—alcohol both pays the bills and helps her forget how miserable her existence is. And in the midst of all the bad behavior in this episode—the usual Rika talk, her mom’s alcoholism and neglect, and the selfishness all around, one begins to feel deeply sorrowful for the Kawai women. Yes, Rika is often obnoxious, but her family life is in shambles, and she still exhibits goodness, including a curiously gentle relationship with Mannen. And Rika’s mother is a tragic figure, used by men and quite on the road to an early death, it would seem, unable to lift herself out of the gutter as she tries, in her own sloppy way, to protect and reach out to her daughter.

It’s in this hopelessness that Rika turns again to cutting, and then finds herself tempted by something even more dangerous. Her foe this time is a religious leader who led the egg, a follower who continues to believe in him, to commit suicide as a way of “connecting” with the universe (Heaven’s Gate, anyone?). Rika decries the ghoul as a charlatan, but is confronted with her own weakness when the egg shows her own scarred arm to Rika, revealing that she can tell that the latter cuts just like she did. And then she explains that Rika can be released from this pain.

The scars, evidence of what Rika does to cope with her pain, now become the weakness that they truly are, revealing how hopeless she feels, and how powerless she is against the mechanizations of her family life. And defeated, she’s about to allow herself to be killed when a surprising savior comes along—a turtle. Mannen attacks the spiritual leader, to Rika’s surprise as well, until she remembers that he has imprinted on her. Rika is Mannen’s mom, and as he did when he prevented her from cutting, Mannen is again protecting his mother.

The conclusion that Rika reaches is unusual but inspiring. She understands, in this moment, the need to protect one’s mom, finally admitting to herself in a de facto way that maybe her mother is in need of love, too. It’s funny to consider the need that mothers have for love since culturally and socially, they’re always seen as the providers of it. But of course, they need it in return, especially when they falter. My own mother is sick right now, and I think of the support I need to give her and the lack of that I’ve provided through the years.

Warning: Screenshot involving cutting after the jump.

My mother was a good one, however. Rika’s, on the other hand, has struggled with the charge, which reminds me of a story from one of my favorite books, The Ragamuffin Gospel, about another bad parent—a far worse one, in fact, and a real one. I’ll quote part of the passage from chapter seven:

“‘Our daughter Debbie wanted a pair of earth shoes for her Christmas present. On the afternoon of December 24, my husband drove her downtown, gave her sixty dollars, and told her to buy the best pair of shoes in the store. That is exactly what she did. When she climbed back into the pickup truck her father was driving, she kissed him on the cheek and told him he was the best daddy in the whole world. Max was preening himself like a peacock and decided to celebrate on the way home. He stopped at the Cork ‘n’ Bottle–that’s a tavern a few miles from our house and told Debbie he would be right out. It was a clear and extremely cold day, about twelve degrees above zero, so Max left the motor running and locked both doors from the outside so no one could get in. It was a little after three in the afternoon and…’

Silence.

‘Yes?’

The sound of heavy breathing crossed the recreation room. Her voice grew faint. She was crying. ‘My husband met some old Army buddies in the tavern. Swept up in euphoria over the reunion, he lost track of time, purpose, and everything else. He came out of the Cork ‘n’ Bottle at midnight . He was drunk. The motor had stopped running and the car windows were frozen shut. Debbie was badly frostbitten on both ears and on her fingers. When we got her to the hospital, the doctors had to operate. They amputated the thumb and forefinger on her right hand. She will be deaf for the rest of her life.'”

Max—a real person, mind you—was a successful, well-liked man, but his drinking problem led to an unconscionable decision and profound failure as a parent. And yet, this book is about grace, an idea which to humans feels unjust, but  which has the power to change hearts and tear down walls, sometimes literally.

Could Max be given grace? Could Rika’s mother? If not directly, she’s done her own physical damage to her daughter in the form of those cutting scars (difficult and perhaps triggering images below). As mentioned earlier, the egg that she’s helping knows her pain and insists that letting go of everything, including life itself, is the way to peace. After all, to a young, suffering girl, what else could these scars mean?

But in the midst of giving up, in the moment that she actually capitulates (and this episode takes you 99% to the edge, both in the cutting scene and in the apparent death scene), Rika experiences something powerful. She experiences grace.

Have you ever been challenged to forgive someone when you don’t want to, when you feel completely in the right? Maybe it’s easy for you, but perhaps it isn’t. The girls surrounding Rika experience differing degrees of this with her sometimes maniacal and often hurtful behavior. Ai forgives easily. Momoe gets fired up and then equally seeks to make peace. And Neiru…well, Neiru holds onto “justice” more than love (setting up what I imagine will be the most powerful transformation in the series of all, in true Homura fashion). But in the moment that Rika is about to give her life, the girls yell out their love for her, even Neiru, and then more profoundly, without any hesitation, Mannen puts his own life on the line to stop the death from occurring. Rika has already given up, but this turtle hasn’t—not for his mother, whom he loves very much.

And experiencing that love from a different angle, Rika is changed just a bit. She begins to see her weakness as a “mother,” failing her turtle-child, and thinks of her own mom who is overwhelmed by hurt and a failure as well. And if just a little—for as the final scenes indicate, it is just a little—the path toward forgiveness begins.

But a little bit of grace is like a little bit of a flood—its power overwhelms, and it defeats the enemy, whether that means bitterness, a physical person (or manifestation of one), or the devil himself.

When Rika returns from the event, having killed the cult leader monster, it’s interesting to note that she isn’t a wholly different person. She’s changing little by little. And her scars remain. In fact, as she admits, she probably will cut herself again. But strangely enough, those scars now represent something different. They show someone trying—failing, yes, sometimes considerably and maybe very often—but trying, and only able to try because love was shown her, and through that, she is now able to show love as well.

You may have such scars in your life, physical or emotional, battered by the world and by people. I hope that you can develop relationships that help you heal as well, and that you’ll also remember that there are other scars which are meaningful to you, but which you cannot see on your person, scars that were borne out of a desire to heal you. Christ took the piercings, on his head, hands, feet, and side, so that while your heart and flesh may be cut, your soul need not be. And through his wounds, you may be healed.

The grace offered through Christ is one that, as he explains about everlasting water at the well to the Samaritan, for now and through eternity. The egg seeks peace forever by dying, but Jesus, unlike the cult leader, died for us so that we may not have to. He took the nails, the cross, and the spear so that we don’t have to inflict pain on ourselves and receive the punishment of our actions against him and others. He is our scar.

That’s grace. That’s the power that it has. And it can reach anyone—even a terrible dad, an alcoholic mom, a tempestuous child, and, and most significantly and personally—you.

If you’re suffering and in pain, maybe self-inflicted, we encourage you to explain such to a parent or trusted adult and ask for help. It’s a difficult first step, but one that will help you begin recovering. And we also advise that you turn to Christ for help—in prayer, community, and scripture. He provides people to us that will aid us in our times of need, as well as himself and the Holy Spirit if we are believers.

Additionally, there’s a scene in this episode where triumphant, Rika concludes that cutting is okay. That’s said in the context of her moving forward bit by bit and forgiving herself for her failures, even the upcoming ones. That’s an important lesson, though we must certainly be careful not to let it be a license to continue cutting with impunity.

Wonder Egg Priority can be streamed through Funimation. Read more of our articles by signing up for our weekly newsletter.

[gohyuck]

pairing: best friend!mark x reader; some neighbor!jaemin x reader

genre: university!au, angst, slight smut

word count: 4.7k 

warnings: unrequited love ft. oblivious mark, sex that ends in crying, general heartbreak because what else would it be

playlist recs: heather - conan gray, cayendo - frank ocean, i found - amber run, fools - troye sivan, from here - kafka tamura, drive safe - rich brian

I still remember Third of December Me in your sweater You said it looked better On me, than it did you Only if you knew How much I liked you

“I fucking hate frats,” You grumble, dabbing furiously at the front of your shirt with a crumpled napkin. There’s red - remnants of what you think must be jungle juice - scattered across the yellow cloth of your top, and you just know it’ll remain stained for eternity. “This cost, like, ten bucks at Walmart! I don’t have that kind of money to throw away, you know.” 

“That’s just an hour’s worth of wages from the bookstore.” Mark, your best friend, points out, handing you another napkin when you exhaust the one in your hand. There’s mirth in his eyes and the threat of a laugh underlying his tone, but the warning glare you throw at him has him putting his hands up in surrender instead of making fun of you. 

“God,” It’s only when someone pushes past you, opening the door behind you to get inside the cursed party house you’d been so quick to rush out of, that you realize just how cold it is outside. The warmth emanating from the inside of the house you feel against your back is short-lived as the door slams shut, but the damage is done: you’re already hyper-aware of what you don’t have. “God, it’s freezing, what the hell?”

“This is literally an end-of-semester party,” Mark, ever perspicacious, points out, adding insult to your injury without a second thought. “It’s early December. Be glad it isn’t snowing.”

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You only whine in response, ignoring everything your friend has said. The night hasn’t gone your way, and if Mark wasn’t here with you you wouldn’t have come at all. Unluckily for you, Mark Lee is popular amongst fraternity circles on account of being Jaehyun Jung’s hometown neighbor and friend, so you find yourself attending parties intermittently. If you could say no to Mark, maybe you wouldn’t smell vaguely of vodka and artificially flavored fruit punch right now.

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You repeat, ignoring any and all thoughts of your best friend you’re having, as always. “And it’s wet which is making me even colder. I hate it here.” 

Mark only rolls his eyes, though you’re surprised to see him shrug off his windbreaker before pulling his black sweater over his head to reveal a thin white shirt. He hands it to you wordlessly before pulling his jacket back on and zipping it up, and when you only stare at the piece of clothing he’s given you, he has the audacity to laugh. 

“I’m tired of your complaining,” He explains when your gaze meets his, though he jovially knocks his shoulder against yours when your eyes narrow momentarily. “And besides, you always look better in it than I do. Before you ask, I’m not cold anyways, so it’s all good.”

You don’t miss the comment about you looking better in it than he does. For a moment, just a moment before you pull the proverbial wool over your eyes and black polyester over your head, you imagine that he actually means it. He does let you borrow it an awful lot, after all: it’s in your dresser half as often as it’s in his. 

“I wasn’t going to ask,” You huff out a lie, putting an arm through before pulling the rest of the sweater on. You’re immediately met with Mark’s cologne, and you pull his sleeves over your hands into sweater paws on habit. His clothes are always just a little long on you. “You’re like a human furnace.”

“Whatever dude,” Mark rolls his eyes again, though there’s fondness evident in them. “Come on - I’ll walk you back to your place.” He loops his arm through yours in a way you’ve gotten dangerously used to, dragging you away from the Nu Kappa Theta house. 

He keeps his word, leaving you right in front of your door. When you go to take off his sweater, he stops you, telling you that there’s no rush to get it back to him. A quick hug and a short goodbye later, Mark is walking down the hallway, hands shoved into his jeans’ pockets. You watch as he gets to the stairwell, so desperately wanting him to turn back.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t - you aren’t Heather. You fall asleep in his sweater hours later, still drowning in his cologne. Come morning, you fold it neatly and place it in the bottom drawer of your dresser, out of sight and out of mind. 

But I watch your eyes, as she walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

You still remember the first time you’d seen her. It was mundane, really - she’d sat next to you during your first Computing class of the semester, and you’d introduced yourself to her and found her to be a sweet girl, the kind of girl people like being around. There wasn’t anything past that - the two of you went on with your lives, sometimes making idle conversation in class. You hadn’t thought much of your meeting with her until later.

Far more importantly, frankly, you remember the first time Mark had seen her, even if he doesn’t remember it himself. You’d been lounging under a tree, Mark’s back against the bark while you had your head in his lap. He’d been rambling on and on about something Donghyuck had said during their intramural dance team’s practice when he’d stopped speaking mid-sentence, forcing you to turn your head to see where his eyes were leading him. 

Heather, in a pleated skirt and a beige sweater over a pristine white button down. She’d looked positively radiant while standing in the grass and laughing with friends, the sun shining brightly directly behind her. Mark, feeling your eyes looking up at his slack-jawed expression, had unfrozen eventually, raising a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck out of embarrassment. He’d been about to launch back into his story - this time likely punctuated by glances over at the other girl - when you’d interrupted him before he could begin.

“Her name’s Heather,” You’d told him, mentally kicking yourself even as you spoke. Who tells the love of their life the name of someone they’re obviously ogling? You hate the value you place on your friendship with Mark almost as much as you hate the fact that you’re in love with him. “She’s in one of my classes. She’s really nice, if you’re into that.” 

“Of course I am,” Mark had muttered then, ears burning red. “Why wouldn’t I be into nice people?”

“You spend all your time hanging with me and Hyuck.” You’d pointed out, reaching a hand up to poke at his chin. He’d flicked your fingers away from him, though he’d immediately grabbed your hand right after, holding it tight for a moment on impulse and as if to show you he’d never really hurt you. 

You’d wished the constant Mark-inflicted ache you’d felt - feel, still - was physical. 

“You’re nice, dude,” Mark had insisted then, finally looking down at you. You’d felt suddenly insecure then, realizing that the angle you were at wasn’t the most flattering. There was no way you could compete to Heather, not with your disheveled hair and eyes that pierced through Mark like arrows. You’d wrapped your arms around yourself in insecurity and Mark had thought nothing of it, only continuing to speak. “You’re nice enough, at least, when you aren’t kicking my ass. Hyuck is… a thought best left for another day.” 

You’d laughed then, and Mark had responded in kind. The rest of your break between classes had been spent like that: talking and laughing with your favorite person, irreplaceable by all accounts. 

If he hadn’t chanced glances at Heather throughout it, you might’ve been able to consider that he found you irreplaceable in the same way you found him. 

Mark hadn’t been subtle then.

He isn’t subtle now. 

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were Heather

Mark asks for the sweater back the day before you leave for winter break. Your flatmate is staying back - has research to work on through Christmas - so you’re free to visit your parents back home, and although you dread all the questions you’ll be asked, you can’t help but feel the slightest bit excited. 

“I’ll drop by and pick it up before I head out, then,” Mark says, voice still warm as ever even as the phone makes him sound the slightest bit tinny. “What time is good for you?”

“I’ll be at the bus stop by 5,” You respond, phone between your shoulder and your ear and heart between your mouth and your chest as you pull his polyester sweater out of your dryer. “Come by any time before then.”

He drops past your place a little before 4, eyes sparkling when he tells you that Heather only lives about a half an hour away from him, so he’s taking her with him on his drive home. You muster the brightest smile you can when you tell him how wonderful that is, all while handing back the sweater that smells like your own detergent for now but you’re sure will soon smell like Heather’s perfume. 

A week after seeing Heather for the first time, Mark had, by chance, joined your university’s Literature Club, not knowing that the girl who’d stolen his breath was a member. He’d had the same sparkle in his eyes when he’d regaled his first conversation with her to you, talking for ages about her opinions on The Picture of Dorian Gray and Slaughterhouse-Five. They’d clicked immediately, in his words. Two fitting puzzle pieces. 

You’d bawled like a baby into your flatmate’s arms once your best friend had left your apartment that night, feeling entitled to the tears after so many hours of half real (you truly were happy for him) and half fake (you truly were sad for yourself) smiles. 

It’s been three months since then. Heather and Mark aren’t dating just yet, but they’re an inevitability. You remind yourself of that after Mark leaves, sweater in hand and a promise to text you once he gets home sliding off his tongue. 

He messages you a picture - a selfie of him and a smiling Heather - five hours later, a ‘we’re home safe!’ text accompanying it. It isn’t a surprise to you that she’s wearing the black polyester sweater in the photo, but it still stings nonetheless.

Mark had said you look better in the sweater than he does. Heather looks far better in it than you do. 

When you reach your own home, you’re not alarmed to see Jaemin, your next-door neighbor who’s home from his own school for break, sitting at your kitchen counter and eating grapes out of a plastic bowl. His parents and your parents are great friends, and you’ve always gotten along fairly well with him. His hair is dyed a light blue, gelled back slightly to show his forehead, and he smiles the same cheeky smile he’s had since his sophomore year of high school at you. Jaemin’s always been breathtakingly handsome, always been as good looking as he is just good. He’d been a decent friend to you when you’d lived here, close enough to tell secrets to but not so close that he’d reveal them to anyone. 

Jaemin had been your first kiss way back when, had been your first time barely after that, and you allow yourself to see the purely sexual tension that still exists between the two of you. You feel nothing but friendship - maybe just acquaintanceship - for him, and he for you. It’s perfect. 

When both sets of parents go out for dinner, unable to drag the two of you out with them, you pull Jaemin up the stairs to your childhood bedroom to ride him frantically as if you’ll never feel this good again. He coaxes not one but two orgasms from you, cool hands roaming your body and nails raking gently over your thighs. Jaemin fucks up into you when you can’t move any longer, when your thighs shake from overwork, and he doesn’t complain, not once. 

He pulls you down to him, bites your shoulder hard when he cums, spilling into the condom he’d managed to get on in the rush to be inside of you. When you don’t pull off of him afterwards, instead only beginning to sob quietly into his shoulder, he’s kind enough to run his hands over the span of your back to soothe you. 

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, not letting you go. His hands are warm now. You shake your head adamantly even as you know he’s kidding before muttering a ‘it’s not you, it’s Mark’ into his skin. 

“Did you just ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ me?” Jaemin questions, this time more confused than anything. You shake your head again, your tears glistening against his collarbone as you pull away enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Mark. It’s Mark,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never voiced it aloud before - that it’s Mark. That it might just always be Mark. Jaemin’s okay, though - Jaemin won’t tell. How could he? He doesn’t even know Mark.

Your childhood neighbor stares at you, though not unkindly, for a long moment before nodding slowly in understanding and pulling you into his chest once more for a tight embrace. He doesn’t ask any questions - you assume he just gets it. 

Jaemin manages to finger you to one more climax like that, with you curled up in his lap and your head against his chest. He murmurs sweet nothings that really mean nothing into your ear as he does, and you find that you could get used to this. You won’t, but you could. When you cum again, you only whimper and moan, incapable of forming words. 

Mark’s name is on the tip of your tongue, and even though Jaemin would understand if you say it, you don’t. You can’t tempt yourself with a reality that isn’t available for you. It would be too cruel.

By the time your parents and Jaemin’s parents get back home, you’re wearing a sweatshirt you hadn’t been wearing earlier, mainly to hide Jaemin’s bite mark. You hug your neighbor goodbye, and he whispers a ‘it’ll be okay’ into your neck before pulling away, giving you a soft version of his devilish grin and waving before leaving with his mom and dad. 

Maybe it will be okay someday, but for now, God, how you wish you were Heather. 

You only text Mark back right before you go to bed, a quick ‘damn, guess i’ll have to hire a better hitman next time. for you, not for heather, she’s lovely’ before you rest. Is she at his house, her head against his chest as they talk about books or movies or whatever they talk about? Or is she on her way home right now, wishing for more time with Mark? 

Your sleep is dreamless that night, despite the thoughts of Mark and Heather, Heather and Mark that run through your mind constantly. It’s the one stroke of luck you have. 

Watch as she stands with Her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder Now I'm getting colder

You sleep with Jaemin intermittently during your break, finding quite quickly that he’s very willing to solely be a receptacle of your pent-up urges catalyzing. It’s hard to have sex with people at school because you’re always aware that Mark could be waiting at your apartment with food when you get back, or that he could be texting you while you’re getting laid. With Jaemin, you can truly push Mark out of your mind, if only just for a moment.

It’s good that you find a momentary respite in your childhood neighbor, because once you’re back on campus, it feels like the universe is purposefully tugging your stars out of their alignments just to torture you. 

The weather still leaves much to desire, and although it isn’t as cold as it had been in December, you still carry a hoodie around with you wherever you go. They’re easy to pull over long-sleeved shirts and sweaters; after all, Heather’s always pulling Mark’s favorite forest green hoodie over the familiar black sweater that she wears. 

Before, it had just been you, Mark, and occasionally Hyuck getting together and hanging out. At restaurants, you and Mark would sit on the same side, sharing appetizers while Hyuck actively guarded his food from your roaming hands. Now, when you go out to eat, you sit beside Donghyuck, Heather right across from you with her perfect smile and kind eyes while Mark sits right beside her, leaning back with his arm thrown over the booth behind her easily. 

She’s genuine: when she asks about your hobbies, your likes, your dislikes, she truly wants to know. It’s good of her: after all, you’re one of the most important people in Mark’s life. You figure she must know that, the closer she gets to your best friend, the closer she should get to you. 

You appreciate it. You also hate it. 

When Heather gets up mid-lunch to go to the bathroom, parting from the three of you for the moment with a dazzling grin and an airy laugh that makes Mark visibly redden, the boy she’s wooing turns to you and your other friend, eyes full of hope. Donghyuck arches an eyebrow even as he knows what the other man is about to say. 

“Man, isn’t she literally the best? There’s something between us, right? I should ask her out?” Mark’s running a hand through his hair as he speaks, a nervous habit he’s had the whole time you’ve known him (freshman year Intro to Film, he’d spilled his cold coffee all over you and panic-offered you his black sweater to wear as a cover-up and, the rest, as they say, is history). 

“She’s on the higher end of the cool spectrum, yes there’s something, and it’s your life, dude, I can’t tell you who to date or not date.” Donghyuck responds before you can, and you catch him darting his eyes over at you in mild concern as he speaks. You haven’t told him about how you feel about Mark, but you’re sure he’s known for some time. He’s nothing if not deductive. 

Mark rolls his eyes, mutters something about Hyuck always being the bare minimum amount of helpful, and then looks you directly in your eyes, waiting for your verdict. In that moment you know that he’ll seriously consider whatever you say, that if you don’t like Heather, he’ll do his best to dislike her too. Friendship above all else.

The word friendship leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, even if you value it so highly. 

“Ask her out,” You finally say, the corners of your mouth quirking up together. The smile you wear doesn’t reach your eyes, but Mark’s too elated to notice. Under the table, Hyuck gently rests a warm hand against your knee for a split second, a show of ‘I’m here’ that you’re grateful for. 

Before you can continue speaking - what would you even say? - Heather is sliding back into her seat, back from the bathroom. You can’t very well talk about her while she’s there, so you close your mouth inconspicuously, watching as Mark puts his arm around her shoulders rather than against the booth this time, pulling her just a little closer to his side. 

You’re wearing two layers of clothing, but the air suddenly feels freezing. Donghyuck casually hands you a fry off his own plate, not keeping his food all to himself for the first time ever. 

You accept it, even though it’s cold by now. Bleakness added upon bleakness changes nothing.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda Wish she were dead, as she Walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

He asks Heather out a week later with a bouquet of flowers you help him pick our just hours before his trek to her apartment. Donghyuck comes over the night of your florist trip - your flatmate had left for a trip the night earlier, leaving you a tub of ice cream and a pile of 80s movies as a placeholder for human comfort - and holds you for hours, not saying anything as you sob through The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Stand & Deliver. 

“I w- I wish she didn’t exist,” You hiccup into your friend’s shirt as he rests his chin on top of your head. “And then I feel awful because she’s just so nice. She’s always so nice. He likes her because she’s so nice.” 

“It hurts worse when they’re nice, especially when you’re also nice,” He murmurs into your hair, pulling you closer into his chest. “Because then you can’t plot ways to get revenge without ending up being the asshole.”

“The jilted ex,” You agree, though it only causes you to cry harder. “Except I’m - I’m not even an ex.” 

“Someday, you’ll be glad that you aren’t one of his exes.” Donghyuck assures you, and you know he’s right so you say nothing else, only wrapping your arms tighter around him. The healing process for your heartbreak starts then, as you stain your friend’s thin shirt with your tears and he rubs soothing circles into your back. Your heart might just sew itself back together. 

The single stitch holding the halves of your heart together rips easily when Mark brings breakfast to your doorstep the next morning, obvious hickies dotting his collarbone once he pulls off his white pullover. The sight alone makes you feel like your lungs are airless and will forever remain so, and you realize that you’ll have to start healing all over again. 

Still, you welcome your best friend into your apartment for breakfast like you do every Sunday morning, right before he goes to Church. Mark’s bought bagels today, from the café at the end of the block, and once he’s prayed like he always does before eating he spreads strawberry cream cheese all over one half of his bagel while talking about how well his ask had gone and thanking you for your floral expertise. 

“I just thought they looked pretty,” You shrug, mentally begging for him to stop relating you to any aspect of his relationship. “No need to thank me.”

“I’ll always thank you, dude,” Mark says with ease, licking cream cheese off of his thumb. “You’re my best friend.” With this, he finishes off his breakfast, stands up from his chair at your breakfast nook, and wears his pullover again. 

“Gotta pick Heather up, she said she wants to come to Church with me,” Mark says, and your heart twinges at how quickly she’s been introduced to the more intimate aspects of his life. You say nothing, only smile and nod, and Mark thinks nothing of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We literally have a class together.” You scoff, doing your best to banter with Mark like you always do. He rolls his eyes at your statement, though his grin never falls from his lips. 

“I’ll see you,” Is all he says, before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. He’s halfway out your door before he turns back - turns back like you’d always wished for him to - and calls your name. 

“Yes?”

“You really did do me a favor by helping me with the flowers,” Mark says, giving you the most grateful smile you’ve ever witnessed. “She said the bouquet had all her favorites. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a lifesaver. Love you!”

With that, he’s out the door, and you can only watch as it slams shut behind him, trapping in his last two words as they curl around you like currents, pushing you deeper into the water that’s drowning you. It’s platonic, of course it is, it always has been. Still, you believe that if you never hear those two words together again, you might be all the better. 

The bouquet had all of your favorites, too. 

You need to stop wishing you were Heather.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better I wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather

It’s a little less than three months later when you’re out shopping by yourself at the local mall, in desperate need for some winter clothes before the next year’s winter starts. Everything’s on sale now, and you’re not one to pay extra money for no reason at all. You’re sitting through a rack of jackets when your phone vibrates, and you fish it out of your pocket to find that Mark has texted you four images, accompanied with a message asking ‘which one should I post O.o’. 

They’re all of Heather in that black polyester sweater - the one you used to wear often - at an ice skating rink, and you assume Mark’s just gotten home from a date. She’s grinning brightly at the camera in the first picture while finishing tying up her skates. In the second one, her back is to the camera and her head is turned to the side, her hand holding onto Mark’s as she leads them across the rink. She’s looking right at the camera in the third one as well, eyebrows raised sportingly as she sips hot chocolate from a styrofoam cup.

You tell Mark to go with the fourth one: a candid of her just stepping on to the rink, eyes wide but smile even wider. Her head is turned, though she can’t see that her side profile is being captured. She’s beautiful without effort in a way you refuse to find in the mirror, and you know the fact that Mark has even taken a picture of Heather without her posing means he wants to cherish every memory with her. It’s sweet, and you tell him so. 

You pocket your phone before reading his response, doing your best not to let his earnestness affect you. Mark is a good man, and Heather is a good woman. They’re good for each other, and you’re good for both of them as a friend. 

As you turn around to inspect another set of for-sale winter clothes, this time on a table rather than a rack, you realize that, over the past few months, you truly have done your best to try and move on. It had been slow at first, yes, but by throwing yourself into your studies, taking time for yourself, and hanging out more with Hyuck and your other friends - though not less with Mark - has done you good. The ache has weakened, the stinging has stopped, for the most part. You’ve killed almost all of your Mark-related hangups or fixations, almost all of them except… 

You rest your palm on top of a light blue sweater - cotton, not polyester - and run your thumb over it, exhaling slowly and blowing air out through your barely-parted lips as you do. It’s pretty, and your size, and you’re in need of one, and the one sweater you used to wear the most isn’t available to you anymore. 

Jaemin’s words from months ago echo in your mind: ‘it’ll be okay’. You grab the sweater and make your way to the cashier’s counter, suddenly not needing to buy anything else anymore. 

The breath of air you take upon leaving the mall, sweater in bag in hand, feels like the first one you’ve taken in a while. As you settle into your car and turn the ignition key, placing your purchase on your passenger’s seat, you’re hit with a realization that you didn’t think you’d ever have. 

It’s all okay...

And you’re starting to no longer wish you were Heather. 

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were.. 

[krabmeat]

heyyyy, just wanteddd too seee ifff youu cooulddd writteee sommmeee karlll x time!travel readerrrrr, itt coouuullddd beee flufff orr anggssttt. whateeeveerrr youuu wantttt :] (morreeeee iiinnnffooo: reeaddderrr allsooo hasss the abillitttyyy to time travelll and karlll and themmm manageeedd tooo bump intoo each otherrr innn the innbetweeeennnn. bothhh offff themm telll storries aboutttt theiir adventuresss tooo one anotherrr and arreee having a gennuinely goooddd timme! tttheeeyyyy meeet agggainn in theeee lllooosssttt cittttyyyy offff mizzzuuuuu annnnddd youuu caannn dooo whatteeeveerrrr affftteerrr thhhatttt)

sorrryyy fooor myyyy tyyyypingggg ssstyyyleeeee (cccaaaannnn i beeeeeee "beeeee annnooonnnnn" bbbutttt wiithouttt theeee draggged outtt letttterrrssss? I ussseeeeeee beeeee/aviannnn/hiveeeee/boottttleeeesssss prrroooonnnnnouuunnsssss)

𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚡 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Karl(Isaac), Ranboo(Charles), Dream(Ranbob), BadBoyHalo(Benjamin), Quackity(Cletus)

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: brief mention of suggestive content, death, murder, explosions, glass breaking, cursing, weapons, water

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS HOLY CRAP!!! firstly, welcome "bee anon" (bee/avian/hive/bottles) to my account! its lovely to have you here and thank you so much for the request! i hope this adds up to what you imagined and i hope you stick around! :]]

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

The In-Between. Any entity that normally roamed around there knew the place well. If you visited there, you visited often. Karl regularly roamed around the in between. The only face he saw there was his. Karl’s from different timelines traveled to the In-Between as well, but ever since he had found those ominous books that told him to steer clear of the “alternate Karl’s”, that’s exactly what he did. So seeing a new face there while roaming the brick-white palace startled him.

The stranger didn’t even get the chance to introduce themselves when Karl briskly grabs them by the arm and starts running to the room under the tree. 

“Woah-! Wait are you-“

But before the mystery person can finish their sentence, Karl cuts them off as quickly as possible.

“SSHHHH! Please hold on a second, I’ll let you know when you can talk.”

The mystery person nods and stays silent as they make their way under the big tree.

Once they arrive, Karl flops to the ground exhausted from the running.

“It’s the safest down here, no one can see what we’re doing. But that’s besides the point! Who the heck are you and how did you get here?!”

The mystery person slides down against the wall and onto the floor besides him. They think for a second, trying to recall how they had arrived. 

“I’m Y/n, I’m a time traveler and somehow I got HERE instead of the place I was planning on going to. I was walking around and I saw a bunch of the alternate versions of you around the place but I figured that if one of them were to- yknow, drag me away and under the tree, that’d be the one I’d need to talk to that isn’t a fake.” 

Karl nods in understanding before he realizes. 

“Wait- how did you know about the safety room being under the tree? Or the ‘alternate’ me’s not actually being from other realities?”

Y/n looks at Karl with a deadpan expression and leans back into the wall. They swing their arms out in front of them for dramatic effect.

“Well duh, I have an in between! You aren’t the only one, yknow. Did you get a bunch of those creepy, contradicting books from all around the place? The one that told me the useful information was in all caps, and the other one was talking about how great the place is and constantly used smiles. Not the traditional one though, like, it used the brackets instead of the parenthesis.”

Karl shoots up in surprise, they had gotten those too?! He was never aware that there were other time travelers that existed, let alone were able to get into other peoples in between! He nods, eager to ask them questions.

“So, where were you planning on going? You said you didn’t mean to come here, right?”

Y/n nods, remembering where they were trying to go previously.

“Yeah! I forgot the name, but I know that it’s some place underwater. An abandoned city or something. Enough about me though, one of the main reasons we both time travel is to tell stories, right? So tell me about the places you’ve been! Also, what’s your name? You got mine but I never got yours.”

“Ah, right- I’m Karl-!”

Karl turned around and flipped up his hoodie to show his light gray initials embedded onto the white hoodie. Y/n had a long, white robe with vine-like accents on the hems. The ends of the sleeves had Y/n’s initials on them as well.

“Well… the first place I’ve ever visited was this place I like to call….’The Town That Went Mad’! Ever play the video game ‘Town Of Salem’? It was basically that and I was like the host of it, sorta.”

Karl proceeded to explain the different personas and people to Y/n, there were people like Cornelius the Wise, Helga, Miles Memeington, Mayor Jimmy- Helgas husband, Robin the Orphan, Bob (he’s a builder, yknow), Catboy (very deep voice, no one knows why but it’s a strange contrast to the ears and tail. Mutant or furry??), and Jack the Farmer. He explained from how the orphan had tricked the entire town that he was a murderer when he was instead the Jester, to explaining what the word “dunderhead” meant in Helgas context after explaining how she ruthlessly and openly got her husband executed and then soon proceeded to sleep with Bob. 

Both of them were crying tears of laughter, listening and recalling their own stories. By the time Karl had finished telling his story, Y/n was on the ground wheezing from how funny they thought the story was.

“And your telling me they all just, DIED?! That’s so anticlimactic, I love it!”

It’s been maybe 3 hours or so of them discussing stories and laughing. As much as these two travel across the fabrics of the universe, they would have never imagined being able to finally tell someone about their travels and experiences! 

Y/n then started talking about a Sky Dynasty that lived up in the clouds in a kingdom called The Kingdom Of Synnefa. When they had dropped in, they would have fallen straight through the clouds if a kind man by the name of Galen hadn’t found them hanging off a building ledge for their dear life! Galen let Y/n drop into his wagon and he took them to get Skywalkers, shoes specifically make for walking on clouds. 

Y/n had then explained how a very old looking man who looked to be a pig hybrid approached them, asking them if they were new. Apparently the old pig man was the guardian of the Grand Library, saying how he adored the Kingdoms Greek history and fables. The funny part is that his name is Icarus, a very unfortunate demise that Icarus had in the past but apparently that was a sensitive subject for Icarus and he would get very upset if anyone brought it up.

Another 3 hours went by of this time Y/n telling their stories of their travels to The Kingdom Of Synnefa! Both Karl and Y/n were having a wonderful time chatting with one another about both the confusing rivalries between the carnivores and herbivores of the kingdom, as well as how the kingdom was slowly dying due to the mass amounts of pollution damage the “ground dwellers” have been inflicting on The Kingdom Of Synnefa.

Soon though, Y/n had to jump into their next travels- as well as Karl. They said their goodbyes to each other, both obviously upset about having to stop the fun and interesting chat. 

“Look, when I leave I’ll figure out how I got in, okay? If I don’t figure it out, it’s been a real pleasure Karl Jacobs. Anyways, off to the abandoned water city I go!” 

Karl nods and waves his hands frantically at them, eager and hopeful for Y/n to visit him again. 

“See ya around Y/n!”

Y/n then proceeds to take out a small book and pen from inside their robe. They open it and quickly scribble something down before closing it and putting away. Y/n gives Karl a last friendly smile before disappearing in a snap. Before that, they manage to give him one last message.

“Hopefully!”

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

Isaac wakes up in his bed by the sea docks. Meeting what seems to be his friends and roommates, Benjamin, Cletus, Charles and Monroe. Distant arguing can be heard from the docks. One of the voices sound oddly more familiar than the others to Isaac. Isaac walks over to the dock and finds two people arguing. 

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys arguing so early in the morning!”

The two people stand up and point at each other.

“MONROE DOESNT GIVE ME BACK THE F*CKING FISHING ROD!”

“BECAUSE THE LAST TIME YOU CAUGHT A FISH YOU KILLED IT, CLETUS!”

Monroe? Their voice sounds oddly similar to someone else’s, but Isaac can’t quite put his finger on it. He looks down ignoring the minor situation, when he sees a small leather book- then it clicks. Monroe is Y/n! But before Isaac confronts Monroe (Y/n), he picks up the small leather book. It isn’t the one that Y/n had when they left Karl’s In-Between, but it instead had what looked like the directions and coordinates for The Lost City Of Mizu!

“CHARLES! GET THE F*CK OVER HERE SO YOU CAN GUIDE US TO THESE COORDS!!”

Charles walks out of the shared dockside house alongside Benjamin, I hand him the book and start heading for the boats when Monroe stops me. They whisper loud enough so that I can only hear.

“Karl? Is that you?”

“Y/n?! You recognize me!”

We get on the same boat while the others get on theirs as well, and set off following Charles to The Lost City Of Mizu.

“Okay first, we call each other Isaac and Monroe, okay? Don’t break character.”

“I don’t even know HOW I remember! Usually I don’t until I leave!”

“Well that doesn’t matter right now, just try to act like Isaac and not Karl.”

And that’s what they did. Karl was Isaac and Y/n was Monroe. 

Once they found The Lost City Of Mizu, they met a man named Ranbob. Ranbob was the last resident of the city, and offered to show the group around. Rooms and rooms of full on history! It was like a huge museum filled with information of a place Ranbob called The Dream SMP, and Karl and Y/n were eating it up. Ranbob had suddenly disappeared, but the group didn’t pay much mind of it as they were trying to get into the Tree Dome. 

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

The Tree Dome room was as marvelous as it was big. The tree was absolutely beautiful, and was also the supply of oxygen for the now abandoned city- though the tree still looks to be thriving tremendously. The group spots a chest on the tree and nominates Cletus to go and retrieve it. Branch after branch and he’s finally up there! But soon after fallen and blown into oblivion because in suddenly appears Ranbob with loads and loads on TNT. Placing it all around the tree and the room, all he says is

“No one survives when they come here.”

And 

BOOM!

He sets off the TNT in the tree, Cletus. Before he died, Cletus luckily tossed the group the book he essentially died for so before reading it, the group ran out of the room and shut the iron doors.

The rest of the group had also found a book that had a key to a “Secret Room”, and very soon after they were making they’re way down a certain “Secret Room” only to be met with another book and a room to the side full of lava parkour. Apparently the last person to try and make it past the lava parkour failed, but they know the key or next clue HAS to be there, so Benjamin is nominated to do the lava parkour, failing and falling into the lava on the final step. Bravely after watching his friend die, Isaac (Karl) decides he’s gonna take a go at the parkour, and succeeds! He gets the key and directions to the final room before they can escape and heads to the final room with Monroe and Charles.

The final room is...strange, to say the least. Black brick walls and flooring, the walls lined with diamond armour and weapons. At the end of the small hallway rested what looked like a terrarium. One of the walls were made of glass so they could look in, and what they saw wasn’t what they were expecting. A normal flat biome with grass blocks, a mini cave in the corner that had a few gold ores in it if you looked hard enough, and the strangest of all was the statue of a looming, smiling, green figure in the very center. 

“Everyone had a person they idolized.”

Ranbob suddenly appears, interrupting the 3 taking in the room.

“Ranbob? Dude what the f*ck?!”

Y/n reaches for one of the diamond axes lining the wall, when suddenly Ranbob unsheathes a netherite sword. 

“Don’t touch anything.”

That’s enough to get Y/n to back up from both the weapons AND Ranbob. 

“How are you even here? We thought you DIED!”

But Ranbob didn’t seem to be bothered nor wanted to be bothered by such minuscule questions, and instead walked towards the glass of the terrarium. 

“This is my idol. His name is Dream.”

“Was he a good person..?”

Karl questioned hesitantly. He didn’t wanna anger or irritate Ranbob after seeing what he said to Y/n.

“Hmm, yes, he’s a good person. Depending on what you think.”

Karl walks up to the glass and shatters an opening with his elbow. He, Charles and Y/n step into the terrarium, observing the statue and its habitat more closely. But they didn’t get the chance to say much more. Ranbob unsheathes his sword for the last time, trapping everyone inside the terrarium. 

“No one makes it out alive.”

GASP!

“What the- where are we?”

…

“Y/n…? Y/n! Your back!”

[norahastuff]

Why do I love Cas’ arc but am so profoundly frustrated with it at the same time? Well from my understanding, for Cas’ arc, there was a 3 pronged resolution that needed to happen - that the show had set up to happen:

1) Cas’ guilt over all the damage he’d inflicted on heaven 

It’s been a running theme for years that all the angels hated him and felt like he had destroyed heaven and had abandoned them, not to mention all the rumours that flew around about his relationship with Dean (that they perhaps knew each other in the biblical sense - that’s barely even subtext, it’s just what all the angels and demons assumed.) That’s not something Cas every wanted, to be hated by his own kind, but I think what truly shook him to his core was his conversation with Naomi in 13x19 (a phenomenal scene by the way, maybe my favourite of the entire season) where he discovered that there were just nine angels left in heaven. Cas was devastated, and from that moment on it was clear that whatever else happened, Cas would have to play some role in restoring heaven. 

Now technically he did get to do that. That’s something right? Yeah sure...a 10 year arc that’s always been one of the primary conflicts for Cas as a character, that’s driven so much of his story, affected his relationships with Sam and Dean in very significant ways, a conflict that was very clearly being set up to be resolved as part of Cas’ character arc in a very tangible way since 13x19, was wrapped up with a two word acknowledgement: 

“Cas helped.”

So yes, that part of his arc was addressed but it was so thoroughly unsatisfying and not given any sort of narrative weight, it almost feels insulting. Those two words are the only allusion to Cas having any kind of agency or being a real character that existed on this show for 12 years. He deserved more than those two words.

2) Cas understands the power of love

Oh boy this one. Well we all know about this one. Bobo did a phenomenal job with this. As did Meredith Glynn, it’s her and Bobo who have been setting this up since s14 at the latest (if we’re talking about when I think they started pushing for an explicitly textual love story) but in my estimation since s12. You can disagree with me if you like but I’m just going to yell “mixtape” at you and run away. Anyway I’ve rambled about this enough in the past so instead of writing another 600 words on it I’ll just link to the last time I did that. The main point is to look at how much Cas had changed over these 12 years. His run on the show may have ended like it started, saving Dean Winchester, but Cas most certainly did not end up the same being that he was when he started. All those years ago he saved Dean for duty, this time he did it for and with love. The power the simple act of loving another person could have? The power in allowing yourself to fully feel it? Nobody understood that better than Cas.

This was satisfying. This made sense.

3) Cas gets to hear that he’s loved

And then we get to part three. How long have they been setting up this particular plot point for? How far back do I have to go? Ok to be fair, let’s stick to the Dabb era. How about when Cas told the entire Winchester family that he loved them? When Dean gave him a mixtape that Cas sort of kind of maybe but not quite recognised the significance of? When The Empty told him it knew who he loved and how there was nothing for him there? When Dean lost all ability to function without him and Cas knew nothing about it? When Cas wonders why he was brought back and Dean tells him it was because “we needed you back” and Cas concludes that he was brought back to prepare for war...when the truth was that Cas was brought back purely because of love? He was brought back because of Dean’s love, because of Jack’s love, but that’s something Cas is never made aware of. How about when Michael in Dean’s body tells him that Dean doesn’t care about him and only tolerates him because he feels he owes him for saving him from hell? Or when Michael continues to twist the knife and talk about how all Cas has done since then is make mistake after mistake? Or when in a moment of anger Dean says the same thing? And I don’t think I’ll ever forget when Jack says he know Cas loves him and he wants to love him back but he can’t, and Cas responds with “You can’t yet.” Did none of that feel like it was setting something up? 

Cas’ arc wasn’t just to learn that he could love without expecting anything in return, it was also to learn that he was loved without being expected to do anything for that love. He was loved for him. He wasn’t just needed, he was wanted. 

Cas got to resolve 1/3 of the main story threads that were set up for him, 1.5 if I’m being generous about point #1, which is still a hell of a lot more than any of the other characters, but it’s a far cry from being in any way satisfying. There’s definitely a point to be made about how by not letting Cas hear/learn that he was loved and valued (explicitly romantic or not) they did a true disservice to Dean and who he was a character and how deeply we know, and have been repeatedly been hit over the head with, he feels for Cas, but that point has been made many times in the past few weeks so I’ll just leave it at that.

Anyway, I know I’ve been contradicting myself since the finale about how I feel about how Cas’ story ended, so I figured it was worth it just to put it all together in one post to kind of make sense of it all.

[cripplingaddictions]

Haikyuu boys when you get injured while playing your sport

Kuroo, Bokuto, Sakusa, Akaashi, Suga

Summary: What some of my fav boys would be like if you hurt yourself playing your sport! 

A/N: This was kind of rushed so please forgive me if this sucks. And the Sakusa one was longer than the rest because I’m biased 

Kuroo:

He’s so supportive of your successfulness playing tennis

He tries his very best to understand but always gets hype during your games

You were competing in doubles with a partner you never liked playing with

They always blamed you for everything and never called to say if it was their ball whenever it was in the centre

You were in the final set and the other players were about to win the match 

Kuroo was there on the sidelines, noticing how you were slowly losing your patience bit by bit

He called out to you when the other players scored another point against you once again

You found his eyes for a moment

“Just go for it, baby! You’ll get it this time!”

You forced a smile back at him, trying your best to mask your worry and hopelessness 

He saw straight through you

The other player served, perfectly placing it towards the box belonging to your partner’s half of the court

The ball bounced in the corner closest to you

Your partner showed no sign of running towards the ball and you fought the urge to go hit it for them

They had to learn to run for the ball

But if you didn’t hit this ball, you’d lose the match

Letting out an exclamation of anger, you ran forwards and swung your racket

However, the top half of your body had moved forward a lot faster than your legs

A burning tug, more maybe even a tear, flared up your hamstring

Pain shot up your leg, but you kept going, successfully hitting the ball back over the net

You went to step back onto your side of the court as you glared at the other player on your side of the net when the shocking pain came back

It caused your leg to buckle and you fell to the ground

The pain was unbearable, you dropped your racket and clutched the back of your leg

You hissed just as the ball that was still in game was hit back over the net and bounced by your head

Damn it

“Y/N!” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting back the tears caused by both the pain and the humiliating loss

“Y/N”

Kuroo knelt down next to you, rubbing your back

He had jumped the fence and run onto the court, ignoring the strict rules in place about spectating

“Tetsuro, you’re gonna get in trouble for that”

He hushed you, picking up your racket and holding it under his arm

“Come here”

Threading an arm around your upper back, Kuroo slowly began to lift you to your feet

“Pulled a hamstring?”

You kind of chuckled, still trying to hide the fact that you had let a couple tears fall down your cheeks

“Maybe even a tear”

“My sweetheart doesn’t deserve this, do you? After playing so brilliantly? Can you try standing”

Rising to your feet, you lifted your weight off your injured leg

Kuroo kissed the top of your head, leading you off the court

He had taken you to get a scan straight away, immediately finding out that you had indeed torn your hamstring

You were disappointed that you couldn’t play tennis until it was healed

Your boyfriend certainly made up for it, tending to your every need

He even wanted to carry you around the school instead of you having to use those painful crutches

He may have been calm and teasing on the outside during your recovery period

But on the inside he was incredibly worried for you

Despite this, this boy took great care of you and you recovered in no time 

Bokuto:

Extremely excited and supportive of you playing sport!

Especially because it was volleyball and he could help you practice

You were a middle blocker, and a fairly good one at that

Your team had a reputation similar to Date Tech’s because of your blocks

One day, you were training with your hyperactive boyfriend, Akaashi, and Konoha

The rest of the team had left and you had stayed behind for some extra practice with Bokuto

Akaashi and Konoha were only there because Bokuto had practically begged them

You were playing 2v2, you on a team with Konoha

Normally, you would have argued that the teams were unfair, but Bokuto hadn’t completely sprung back from his most recent mood swing and you feared making it worse

It wasn’t too competitive, the four of you trying to get some long rallies in

That was until Akaashi set a perfect ball for Bokuto

He’d become really fired up due to the fun nature of the practice game

He was so proud whenever you did a good play and it put him in a good mood

You smiled, seeing the massive goofy grin on his face as he ran and jumped to meet Akaashi’s elegant and precise set

Sensing that Bokuto was about to hit a straight shot, you jumped up to the net

Bokuto’s hand smacked against the ball in a powerful spike

You were in perfect position, but you had forgotten just how strong your boyfriend could hit those poor balls

The ball bent one of your finger back painfully far, and you winced

It spun off to the side, giving Bokuto and Akaashi the point

You landed on your feet clutching your aching finger and rested your hand on your chest

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Y/n! Did you see that?”

Your boyfriend exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air

However, his hair immediately drooped down and his grin was wiped off his face when he saw how your teeth were gritted

You examined your fingers, noticing the purple swelling of you ring finger 

“Y/N, are you okay? Y/N? Baby? Honey? You look hurt”

Hissing, you nodded

“Yeah, my finger hurts a lot”

Bokuto immediately ducked under the net, running to you

You carefully lifted your hand to display your puffy purple finger to your boyfriend

“Did I do that?”

He asked, grabbing you by the shoulders to urge you to look at him

“The ball did, Bo. Don’t freak out”

“ARGH AKAASHI, I BROKE Y/N’S FINGER”

“No, Bokuto-san. It’s not broken”

“BUT I STILL DID IT!!! I’M SO SORRY, HONEY. FORGIVE ME!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle slightly

“Konoha, could you please fetch me some ice while I tape my fingers up?”

Konoha nodded, immediately leaving the gym to find some ice

You hurried over to your bag and pulled out the tape you always keep with you for emergencies

Sitting on the floor, you slowly and delicately began to tape your fingers together

“THEY WON’T EVEN LET ME HELP THEM, AKAASHI! THEY HATE ME! I GOT TOO EXCITED AND I HURT THEM!”

“Bokuto-san, they don’t hate you”

You smiled to yourself

“Of course, I don’t hate you, Bo. I love you and your amazing ability”

“Really?”

“Really”

After that, Bokuto wouldn’t stop hugging you all the way home

You didn’t bother getting it checked because it was only your finger, but mainly so your overdramatic boyfriend wouldn't freak out if it was any worse than just a sprain

He carried everything for you, even if you could just hold it with your other hand

Don’t bother trying to tell him it’s not a big deal because he will cry while getting into an argument about how he did this to you

Constantly reassure this big baby throughout your recovery period and he’ll feel less guilty with time

It’s a different story if someone else injures you during a real game

Akaashi has to hold him back before he could inflict any damage on the culprit 

Bokuto only wants to protect you

Sakusa:

You played soccer as the goalkeeper, and Sakusa has no idea what is happening the entire time

But that doesn’t mean he can’t tell when you made an incredible save

Playing in a fairly large league meant that you play in a small stadium with a mini grandstand 

He’d sit right up the back in the furthest corner away from anyone

People who didn’t know he was your boyfriend probably thought he was some creep, hiding behind his face mask and dressed in all black with those piercings

Your team was really good, but you were the backbone 

The attackers were certainly swift and flashy when they scored goal after goal

But you were the one to stop the other team from catching up

As much as Sakusa thought you looked really cool whenever you saved a goal, he’d never show it

It takes you a quick glance up to his spot in the stands and see how his eyebrows would soften ever so slightly for you to know that he was secretly praising you

The way his expression shifted never failed to put a smile on your face

When you turned back to the game, you could sight of an attacker on the other team dribbling the ball straight down the centre

You stood poised, trusting the defenders to make the first advancement

But they didn’t

Instead, they stood there, blocking your view of the ball

“Guys!” 

You shouted to get their attention, and a few heads turned your way

“Move out of the way or make an approach!”

Before they could do either of the things you ordered, the opposing player shot at the goal

You recognised the player as the one you had been marking all game for having a powerful kick

The defenders still stood in the way, so you couldn’t see how the ball how curved

Taken aback, you tried your hardest to run and at least punch it away

But the ball continued to curve... right towards your face

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the full force of the shot on your nose

Your hands flew up to your face as your head fell back due to the force

The crowd whined as you fell to the ground and held your face in your gloved hands

You could tell almost immediately that the bridge of your nose was not in the right place

Hesitantly taking your hands off your face, you found a pool of blood staining you goalie gloves

The referee’s whistle blew and the game paused as your teammates gathered around you

After your team and worriedly asked questions and the player who had taken the shot apologised to you, your coach escorted you off the field

You sat on the bench, a medic pressing a wet cloth to your nose to catch the blood

“Hey, Y/N”

Recognising the voice, you took the cloth from the medic and searched for Sakusa

You found him leaning over the fence, eyebrows slanted slightly

You stood up, the pain rushing up your face as you met him by the fence

“Did you break it?”

“Definitely, it hurts really bad. But I think I can play the rest of the match with it taped”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am”

“I’m taking you to the hospital, right now”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am”

“No, you’re not”

“You’re almost as annoying as Atsumu”

You chuckled, hesitantly lifting the cloth off your nose to take a look at how much blood had soaked into it, and to give Sakusa a look

Almost the entire cloth was dyed scarlet 

Sakusa flinched slightly at the sight, and even though he wanted to cup your face in his hands, he didn’t want to touch the blood

“Does it look gross?”

You asked, poking your face closer to your boyfriend

At the way he shrunk back, you took the answer to be a yes

“Am I still cute?”

Sakusa rolled his eyes, brushing your mattered hair off your forehead and quickly retracting his hand

“Don’t ask such a stupid question”

That was all it took for you to let him take you from the game early to the hospital where you got an x-ray and your nose taped

Sakusa wouldn’t admit it, but there was something about the cute little bandage on the bridge of your nose that make you even more adorable to him

He’d get repulsed again soon enough, if your nose ever started to bleed 

During your recovery, he made sure you never overdid it and gave yourself a headache

He always helped you clean yourself, afraid you might “smack your nose or something ridiculous”

Sakusa had always thought you were amazing at what you did for a sport, but he became a bit more reluctant to let you train or play after you had fully healed

You convinced him that it wouldn't happen again, but never promised

You were also guilty of liking how openly worried he was for you, not minding if you were to be put into that situation again

Akaashi:

Out of all of them, Akaashi was the quickest to understand the points and rules of your sport

He got really into it, keeping a close eye of the table to see how your team was compared to others

Both of you were well aware that waterpolo could be a dangerous sport

You could get kicked, punched, scratched, probably even knocked out, and even dragged under the water

He always reminded you of this before every game

This week you were playing against the team that had a reputation of being rough and dirty players

Akaashi had heard of them, explaining to you to be prepared for anything

You kind of shrugged him off, confident in your abilities as to not drown

The game was going well so far, but the other team had been given multiple fouls which was to be expected

You hadn’t encountered too many rough players, only having to shake off people who held onto your swimmers 

That wasn’t to say that many others on your team hadn’t been kicked on purpose or the like

Akaashi liked watching your games from afar

But still close enough that he could call out to you if he wished 

Also, he’d proceed to pass away if you knew this, but he likes being at the perfect angle to see you in those swimmers

Don’t tell no one though

You were currently marking a player, desperately trying to swim in front of them in order to prohibit them from receiving the ball

The other player’s arm wrapped around your front

Normally, you would simply push them off, but what they did next took you by surprise

They dug their fingernails into your chest, clawing at your skin in order to push you out of the way

You pushed away, only for their nails to scratch you right across the chest

The messy red lines stung in the chlorine, but the adrenaline from the game urged you to keep going

Akaashi certainly noticed the player’s dirty move

As far as he knew, it was encouraged to cut your nails before you played a game 

What did he expect from the dirtiest team?

The game finished shortly after, you clambering out of the pool and grabbing your towel

Dabbing the towel over the scratches hurt, but you ignored it, wanting to go to Akaashi to celebrate your win

Hurrying up to his seat, you waved at him

“I think I played well! What do you think, Keiji?”

He didn’t answer your question, instead, he made his way over to you and pulled a clean tissue out of his pocket

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw how that other team played”

He took the tissue and carefully dabbed the small drops of blood that began to trickle from the edges of the scratches

The contact stung, causing you to pull away slightly, to which Akaashi gently held your nape to keep you in place

“Sorry if that stings”

“It could be a lot worse”

You owned up, allowing Akaashi to stop the blood

When he had finished, he pulled the towel that you had loosely wrapped around your waist up over your shoulders

“Don’t get cold”

The two of you headed home, treating the scratches with antiseptic

The deepest cuts were covered delicately with bandaids, as you insisted that there was nothing else wrong

Akaashi was smart enough to realise they were only minor injuries, he never stopped kissing them and making sure your clothes didn’t rub against them until you were fully healed

Suga:

Suga was chaotic and honest enough to say that he didn’t really understand the appeal of basketball

He certainly understood how the points worked and all the rules, but he was confused as to why you loved it so much

You’d playfully argue back with him, but your height did not help your case

He’d say things like “Why do you play when you’re so short? It’s like volleyball in that right, right?”

You’d snap back with an argument about Hinata and his passion

In reality, it is all harmless teasing

Suga loves that you have something you are passionate about, and he relates to it

He’s certainly supportive, comes to every single game, and regularly picks you up from practice

Is also known to have shown up earlier to pick you up than necessary just to watch you practice with your teammates and shout encouragement from the sideline

At this point, your entire team knows who he is

He’s just so friendly and charismatic like that

His permanent smile was wiped off Suga’s face when you got hurt during practice, but he wasn’t serious for long

You were playing a practice game, coming up against the tallest player in your team

They were a lovely person, certainly, but they had no coordination with their long limbs

You had the ball, desperately trying to outstep them

When they attempted to swipe the ball, you stepped back and passed it over to someone on your team on the other side of the court

“Great job, Sugar!”

You smiled over to Suga 

The tall player turned around, trying to sneak around behind you

However, you were trying to walk backwards, not expecting their leg to still be right behind you due to where the rest of their body was

You tripped over them, falling directly onto your tailbone 

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry!”

Your teammate called out to you

“It’s okay!”

You replied, ignoring the enormous amount of pain in your tailbone

Suga’s laughter could be heard from the sidelines, causing you to feel slightly humiliated too

Surely, you laughed it off with him, but when you stood up, your tailbone felt incredibly numb

It hurt to walk, each step you winced at the pain

Not only that, but you felt stupid

This had to be the lamest thing that had ever happened, you couldn’t believe you were tearing up over falling onto your ass

But, maybe that meant that there was something wrong

You called out to your coach, telling them that you wanted to sub off for the rest of the practise match

You immediately headed over to your boyfriend, aching with each step

Suga’s laughter had seized, in fact, he could tell better than anyone that something wasn’t right

“Suga, I think I broke my tailbone or something because it really hurts”

You whined 

“Aww, baby. Come here”

Suga pulled you into a hug, helping you strip off your bib to give to the coach

“Should we get a scan? I’ll take you to the hospital right now”

You nodded, Suga running over to gather your things before helping you to his car

Turns out, you had fractured your tailbone

You had to be careful with how you sat for ages, either having to sit on a special pillow or not sit at all

It was so inconvenient, especially when it came to school

You didn’t go, Suga sending you the notes and visiting every afternoon to study with you to make sure you didn’t fall behind while lying on the floor on your stomachs

It was a slow and painful recovery, and of course Suga was the biggest help

But, once you began to get a bit better, the teasing ensued

This was the perfect time for many inside jokes to be made, and when you made your recovery, you both enjoyed confusing Daichi and Asahi about them

They both found it weird, as they all had something to do with your ass

All in all, this angel brings the light out of everything, even when it’s when you can’t even sit in peace

[journalxxx]

Repetita Iuvant

The room was almost perfectly quiet. The barely audible buzzing of the medical equipment and the occasional squawk of a bird outside were the only noises Izuku had heard in probably hours. The chair creaked when he moved, his shoes squeaked on the white floor. He had already grown used to the pungent smell of disinfectant. No one had come to check on either of them in a while. There was nothing whatsoever to distract him from his thoughts and from the enormity of the consequence that his recklessness could have had- could still have.

How very obvious All For One's plan had been, in hindsight. Driving Izuku to drive himself to the brink of exhaustion and to detach himself from any semblance of support. Sending few lone agents first to inflict some physical chip damage and a much more substantial amount of psychological warfare. Leading him to walk, alone and unprepared and worn-out, straight into the real trap.

Even without Endeavor's fire propulsion or the perceptive wings of the hero who was always just a little too fast, All Might had been the first one to reach the fight. Izuku knew that his words weren't going to dissuade him from trying to follow his student, but he'd thought he could manage to outspeed him, to keep the danger just a little ahead of him at every turn. How arrogant and simple-minded.

All Might hadn't wasted a second. With what little combat gear he had at hand, he had immediately provided cover fire and diversion, dodging and hiding and inching his way towards Izuku as the horde of strategically placed snipers and brawlers kept him too busy to track his mentor's approach.  All Might, who, Todoroki had told him, even after losing every last ounce of his power, had once unhesitatingly thrown himself in harm's way to protect a wandering bystander from collateral damage. All Might, who had once again thrown himself in harm's way to protect his disgraceful successor from a potentially lethal blow.  Izuku had recognized the villain who had charged forwards. There were two whole pages about him on one of his old notebooks, probably number 7 or 8. A convict with a sunlight-fuelled power-enhancing quirk who had regained his freedom during one of the many breakouts following Tartarus' fall, a villain that All Might himself had brought to justice a few years back. Izuku had seen the cruel grin on the criminal's face when he had realized who his attack had landed on. Izuku had seen the sadistic glint in his eyes as he instantly stopped caring about the target of the operation in order to exact his revenge on his captor, and started pummelling the frail, stumbling figure savagely. Caught in the crossfire of the battle, it had taken Izuku ninety seconds to separate the rampaging brute from his victim. Ninety seconds was a tremendously long time in the raging frenzy of a battlefield. The sight of All Might's bloodied, battered, unconscious form was the last clear memory Izuku retained of the whole accident. After that, it was a blurry sequence of hits, dodges, movement, explosions, noise, made even more chaotic by the arrival of other heroes. After that, a mad dash to the nearest hospital. After that... Time. Nothing but time, hours and hours, with the sole company of his regrets. Endeavor, of all people, had had a few words for Izuku when he had reached the hospital as well. Not very heartfelt or unexpected ones, but undeniably warranted. Endeavor, who was just about the most unsociable, standoffish and selfish hero in the industry, and an unspeakable parent and husband to boot. Endeavor, who nonetheless had opened up his own agency, had sidekicks, subordinates, support, a proper network of associates, and was demonstrably not above accepting help when he obviously needed it. Not even Endeavor could have messed up so badly. Hawks had just shaken his head and spared Izuku any tirades, for the time being. He had kept watch, and later said that Recovery Girl was on her way. Izuku had genuinely no idea how many hours (days?) had passed since All Might had been admitted to the hospital. He had let some doctors examine his own wounds, done whatever he was told to do and answered whatever question he was asked with the most appropriate monosyllable. He had slept, not by choice but probably because of some medicine someone gave him at some point. He had washed and put on some fresh clothes provided by Jeanist. He had eaten, barely. He had waited. Stared at walls. Paced. Let his brain dissect in every detail the harrowing series of unforgivable blunders that had led to the current situation. Despite the doctors' initial opposition, they had allowed Izuku to enter All Might's room after Hawks had interceded. The noticeble lack of reassurances about the man's conditions had worried him, but, unlike in Nighteye's case, no one had warned him of his impending demise either, which was as good a sign as he was going to get. Since then, no one had showed up to tell him to leave, so he hadn't. He had tried to be rational about it, at first. He had analyzed the fact that All For One's goons seemed hell bent on taking advantage of All Might's weak point. The first noumu had done it, Wolfram had done it, the latest assailant had done it as well, if the extensive dressing covering the entirety of All Might's left side was of any indication. It was wicked and cowardly, but it was also a bit of a blessing in disguise. Most of his vital organs in that area had long since been eradicated, and it stood to reason that any damage on the opposite side, for example to All Might's sole remaining lung, would be more likely to prove deadly. He hoped his foes would never get that memo. He noted how scattered All Might's injuries were and reflected that, if the villain had focussed all those hits and raw strength on the hero's head alone, he would have turned it into mincemeat in a matter of seconds. As it stood, most of All Might's head was unscathed, with some padded bandaging covering about a third of his face, but relatively little damage to the cranial lid itself. Another instance of cruelty turning to their advantage, Izuku guessed. Unfortunately, instead of getting used to the sight of his mentor's wrecked body, Izuku was only finding it more and more distressing as time went by. There were too many bandages, too many tubes and machines and cables laid out around and all over him. He was too pale, his features too sunken, his appearance too similar to a corpse, his chest rising too shallowly with each breath to give him any measure of comfort. Izuku crumpled forwards in his chair, hands in his hair, face resolutely pointed at the floor, unable to stand the sight any longer. He was gutless, unworthy and criminally short-sighted. One For All probably shared that sentiment, since he hadn't heard a peep from any of the vestiges since the fight. He resumed, for the millionth time, revisiting the events of the last months, letting guilt engulf him like a poisonous cloud. He was snapped out of his reverie by a fierce grip on his wrist, and the sudden blaring of one of the machines. His heart jumped in his throat and he looked up to see All Might reaching out to him with his good hand, awake and tense, rushed breaths fogging the oxygen mask he was wearing.  Izuku's eyes flew back and forth between the man and the beeping monitor. Was he reading it correctly? A heart rate spike? Something worse? All Might was definitely awake, but not altogether... there. He had a haunted, distant expression that made Izuku's stomach constrict painfully.  "All Might?" He called, utterly failing to suppress his increasing dread. He tried to pry his teacher's hand away from his arm so that he could run and alert someone, but those bony fingers clawed him with such strength that no man in his condition had any right to have. "What's wrong?" The question seemed to help him get his bearings, somehow. Tension became confusion as All Might's gaze roamed all over Izuku, then the room, then what little he could see of himself from his lying position. Eventually the confusion waned too and exhaustion took its place as he closed his eyes and ventured a few deeper breaths.  Izuku tentatively stood up, but All Might, despite loosening his iron grip, didn't let go of him.  "Are you in pain? Shall I call someone?" He asked, still frazzled. A negative nod. As if in agreement, the monitor spontaneously ceased beeping. Izuku felt as if any decision-making ability he had ever possessed had been crushed alongside his mentor's limbs. Should he call someone, just to be sure? Weren't they monitoring patients remotely anyway? Should he- All Might opened his eyes again, and met Izuku's. The light that normally brightened them, a flame that had nothing to do with quirks and that Izuku had thought inextinguishable, was subdued and meek. It made the boy's breath catch in his throat. "I-I'm..." He couldn't say it. Apologies couldn't cut it, not this time. There were no words that could even begin to atone for the catastrophe he had nearly caused, for the pain he knew he had inflicted to the one person that had always, unerringly trusted him. His traitorous eyes burned and his vision blurred. Izuku squeezed them and bit his lip, hard. He would not cry. He didn't have the right to, especially not after months spent playing the stoic vigilante, and it was a damnable weakness he should have weaned off long ago, and All Might barely tolerated it in the first place. All Might tugged at his arm. He was regarding him gently now, with that deep warmth that one never expected to match those haggard features of his. He pulled again, until Izuku returned to the chair and scooted a little closer to the bed, close enough for All Might to move his hand to the boy's hair.  "It's okay." All Might finally spoke. His voice was disturbingly different from his usual stentorean timbre, like the rumbling thunder of a distant storm even when it was at its lowest. There was a breathless, wispy quality to his tone now, and long pauses stretching between each sentence he uttered. "It's okay to cry... I should have told you... a long time ago..." Izuku's throat clenched painfully. There was so much he had to say and explain and apologize for, so much he had to tell him, but he couldn't. He couldn't. A pitiful whimper escaped him as he brought his own hand to cover All Might's. To stop him and pull it away, or to grasp it and hold it closer, he didn't even know. "Repeat after me." All Might said in English with that odd accent of his that didn't quite sound as natural as an American's, but that nonetheless seemed to roll off his tongue so easily. Those words hit Izuku almost physically, summoning a memory of roaring waves under a starry sky, of a joyful run along an immaculate beach in a time when the future looked so much brighter, and so much more hopeful. "It's okay to cry." "...It's. Okay. To cry-" Izuku managed to force out haltingly, and suddenly it was as if a dam broke inside him. Gross sobs escaped him uncontrollably, making him gasp aloud and flinch beneath his mentor's calm gaze as some part of him took those words in stride with frightening promptness. "Don't push yourself too hard." All Might was smiling now, of all things. Where he found the strength, the will, the reason to smile so softly at him here, now, Izuku had no idea. It took the boy a few moments to realize that the hero was still expecting him to reply. "Don't push yourself too hard." He echoed shakily. He thought of Musutafu, of the USJ, of Kamino. He wondered to whom, exactly, these words were aimed at. He abandoned that line of thought immediately.  "You deserve to rest." "You deserve-" He stopped. He could not say those words, not like this. It sounded way too much like a farewell, like a request for a parting blessing. Which was unthinkable, because All Might had vowed to keep on living and he would never go back on it. But Izuku's mind conjured notions of eternal rest, tragic visions that may or may not come to pass, irredeemable mistakes- All Might's hand slid away from under Izuku's. The same hand that had once shattered buildings, created whirlwinds, held an entire nation's hope in its raised fist, trailed down Izuku's temple with unimaginable tenderness. It cupped the boy's cheek in its palm, it wiped away stray tears with its thumb. All Might mouthed something, more of an exhale than actual words, that Izuku couldn't quite catch over the sound of his own gasps.  "You deserve to rest." The boy finished. All Might was still smiling, more serene that Izuku had seen him in months. "Let's talk more later, hm?" He sighed as he closed his eyes, his hand slowly falling back on the bed. Izuku clasped it back between his own in an instant, panic flaring up in his gut all over again, fearing the unthinkable.  But the equipment kept buzzing quietly and undisturbed, the birds kept squawking, his chair kept creaking and his shoes kept squeaking. He focussed on the firm pulse beating under his fingertips, for as long as it took for his own mind to still.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Viewing Disney’s Peter Pan Through the Eyes of an Adult

Recently, I’ve seen several posts floating around talking about how Disney’s Hook is difficult for people to take seriously and is much too comical for what Barrie had intended. I grew up with Disney’s Hook. He was my first introduction to the character and the reason why I became interested in reading classic literature, writing fanfic, and seriously delving into the analysis of complex villainous/antagonistic characters, so he has a very special place in my heart and I’m prone to be quick to defend him. Rather than writing a long-winded reply to these individual posts, I decided to just make my own explaining why Disney’s Hook can be viewed as just as tragic and sympathetic as any other version. (You can also read some of my earlier posts defending Disney’s Hook here and here.)

*takes a deep breath* *cracks knuckles* Buckle up kiddos! You’re in for a long ride!

My view of Disney’s Hook as a tragic character lies primarily in my sympathy for him when he switches from a proud, elegant, dangerous character to a shivering mess of a man when the crocodile comes around. Let me attempt to elaborate--but first, a bit of a necessary digression.

Every film/book/play, etc. can be viewed from several perspectives. Typically, there is one character that we are meant to like and who becomes the primary focus of the story. Anyone who opposes that character is automatically an antagonist, if not a villain. Usually, even if the point of view is omniscient, we can still tell that it is not, perhaps, entirely objective in its portrayal of certain characters. This sort of situation happens all the time on the evening news--the interviewer is, in theory, supposed to be a neutral reporter on an incident, but it is often obvious that they favor one side of an issue over another, and as a result, the public's view of the situation and those involved is skewed. The lens through which we view a certain character tends to do the same thing. For instance, in Les Miserables (another favorite story of mine), Javert is viewed as an antagonist because the book is primarily concerned with the redemption story of Valjean; however, if the story was flipped and instead focused on the inspector's character and his transition from a strict legalist to a man so broken by the idea of morality that he commits suicide, he would, perhaps, be viewed instead as a tragic HERO instead of a tragic ANTAGONIST. Javert likely does many GOOD things in the name of the law as well during his career, but we don't see most of them because he isn't the main focus of the book. Similarly, I think Disney’s Hook can be more greatly appreciated as TRAGIC instead of COMICAL when we consider the lens through which we are viewing him.

Disney has always been geared toward children, so naturally, when they tell a story, they want the material to be attractive to a younger audience. This means not only that certain more frightening or upsetting elements of a story may be left out, edited, or altogether changed, but also that WE VIEW THE CHARACTERS THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD. (For example, in The Little Mermaid, King Triton's opposition to Ariel going to the surface world is presented in such a way that he seems extremely harsh when, in reality, he is father trying to keep his daughter safe. True, he DOES overreact, but remember, Ariel is only sixteen--not even LEGALLY an adult--and wants to run off with some guy she hasn’t even had a conversation with. But kids can relate to overbearing parents who, in a moment of disagreement, seem like they are being "mean," so that is how the audience sees Triton.) Peter Pan, especially, with its protagonist(s) as a child/children, really magnifies this perspective to the point where, unfortunately, some of the characters become almost caricatures of themselves. When children are legitimately afraid of something, they react one of two ways: Either they run from it/avoid it altogether, or they make-believe that whatever is frightening them is actually a lot less terrifying than it is so that they appear brave. I remember when I was younger, I used to be TERRIFIED of Monstro, the whale from Pinocchio. I couldn't watch the film without getting nightmares. But I didn't want to be afraid of watching the movie, so with my overactive imagination, I decided that I could fix that by turning him into a less scary version of himself and making him into an imaginary friend who more closely resembled Willy the anthropomorphic opera-singing whale from Make Mine Music than the terrifying creature we see in Pinocchio. Anyway, getting back to the point--I overcame my fear of the character by choosing to imagine that he was less scary than he was. This is what a lot of children do, and I think it's why Disney's Hook comes off as being comical.

The first time we see Disney Hook on screen, he actually comes across as pretty terrifying. He literally shoots his own crew member just because he didn't like the guy's singing! Rarely do we actually see Disney villains successfully kill another character on screen, but Hook does not even five minutes into his introduction. Immediately, we get the impression (or at least, a child should get the impression), that Hook is a genuinely dangerous guy. He also seems to regard his loss of a hand as "a childish prank," which further gives us the impression that he apparently has a pretty high pain tolerance and isn't afraid to do horrible, gruesome things to his enemies. If chopping someone's hand off is "childish," then what sort of serious damage does he inflict on his victims? However, this is Disney, and rather than having Hook gut someone or do something else which might scar a kid for life, we soon see he has a weakness...the crocodile. At this point, the Darling kids have been watching Hook for several minutes from their perch up on the cloud and are, probably, starting to have some second thoughts about fighting real pirates when they seem so scary...so what do they do? They do the same thing I did and turn him into a less-scary version of himself. They find his weakness and latch onto it. And since we're viewing things primarily from their perspective, that's how WE start to see Hook too. Hook's fear of the crocodile becomes comical for the audience because the Darling kids are trying to focus on that aspect of him so that they are can forget how terrifying he really is. We see this more frightening side of Hook come out a few more times, such as when he plans to blow up Pan's hideout...and at this point, we even catch a brief glimpse of the more sinister part of Smee when he asks Hook if it wouldn't be more humane for them to slit his throat...AND THIS IS SMEE WE'RE TALKING ABOUT HERE!!! The LEAST frightening of the pirates in ANY version. But I think Disney throws this in just to remind us that Smee is still a pirate, and if HE'S willing to do something THAT bad, Hook is a thousand times worse. However, for the most part, Hook still remains a rather softened, comical version of himself because we are viewing him through the child-lens. Remove that lens, though, and things become more complicated.

Forget, for a moment, that we are supposed to be rooting for the Darling children and Pan, and look again--not as a frightened child who is trying to laugh in the face of danger but as an adult who can feel Hook's pain. I remember one time when I was driving back from the airport in a busy city in the dark and the road was icy...I'm not used to driving in ice, and I'm a naturally nervous driver...At one point, I skidded into the next lane... I literally spent about the next hour hyperventilating, practically rocking myself back and forth, praying, and trying not to cry because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to see the road. It was horrible... Take that sort of feeling, and I believe it's what Disney Hook is experiencing when the crocodile shows up. Through the "child-lens" it may be funny to see a frightening character in a vulnerable situation, but viewing it as an adult who understands just HOW helpless and terrified one feels in such a situation, you can't help but empathize with Hook. Every move he makes, every tremble in his voice, every look of absolute horror in his eyes tells you that he is not mentally or physically really functioning at the moment. He's on autopilot--he's in survival mode like a wild animal that freezes in hopes that it won't be seen by the approaching predator. Take away the crocodile's obviously silly "theme-music" and Hook's slightly overdone expressions, and you're left with something similar to what we see Hook experience in the novel near the end of the chapter, "The Pirate Ship." ("Very frightful was it to see the change that came over him. It was as if he had been clipped at every joint. He fell in a little heap...he crawled on his knees along the deck as far from the sound that he could go...'Hide me,' he cried hoarsely.") Now we can start appreciating him for the tragic villain that he is supposed to be.

Viewed through the eyes of the Darling children, Hook represents all that is frightening and bad about the grown-up world. If Peter is ice cream parties and summer vacations and catching fireflies in the dark, then Hook is cancer and broken dreams and being worried about being able to make enough money to put food on the table. Barrie, however, tells us that there is much more to both characters than that. Peter has a dark side--a selfish streak that forgets all pain at the cost of never learning from the past, never growing from his experiences and becoming a better person. He is stagnant not only in physically growing up but also in mentally facing reality, which is just as damaging as Hook's attitude of regretting a childhood apparently gone too soon. Hook, too, has a lighter side that loves soft music and flowers and other such things (representative of the good things about being an adult--falling in love, pursuing one's passions in a professional sense, having children of one's own). Disney, of course, doesn't quite do this to the same extent as Barrie since we're given a skewed view of the characters, but it DOES still make a few points which, when stripped of the "child-lens" effect, gives off a similar impression. Peter, for instance, brags to the mermaids at one point about cutting off Hook's hand and feeding it to the crocodile. Though we never get to hear him finish the tale, it is rather unsettling to think that Disney's Pan is capable of such horror. (Personally, no matter WHAT the circumstances of the situation were, I think any real-life child who took such great pleasure in slicing off a body part of another person and then having the presence of mind to feed said body part to a dangerous wild animal would probably be considered a psychopath in need of some SERIOUS counseling.) Disney, of course, glosses over this little inconvenience by having Hook show up before he can really get any further into the story. Again, the child-lens is going up; Wendy doesn't want to see this side of Peter, and neither does the child-based audience, so they choose to look away. However, we see a brief glimpse of this side of Pan again at Skull Rock. First, we see it resurface when he hands Smee a gun and then flies up directly in front of Hook--knowing that he can move out of the way in time. Again, through the child-lens of the audience, it seems funny to watch Smee doing his best (and failing terribly) to aim at Pan...but when you think about it from an adult's perspective, it's actually pretty disturbing. Peter legitimately wants Hook dead and doesn't care if it happens to be at the hand of one of his own crewmen (and arguably, in the Disney universe, Hook's only real friend). When Hook "dies," Peter simply takes the hat and says nonchalantly, "What a pity, Mr. Smee. I'm afraid we've lost the dear captain." It doesn't even phase him that a man might have just died and poor Smee is probably feeling absolutely HORRIBLE because it was (sort of) his fault. Even Wendy's child-lens falters a little here... While Peter is celebrating Hook's death, she at least, has enough of an adult's heart to have compassion on their fallen enemy and turn her face away with an, "Oh, how dreadful!" It happens again a few moments later when Peter is getting ready to kick Hook's hook off the ledge so that he falls into the waiting jaws of the crocodile. (The captain, at this point, is of course, squirming like--to use Peter's phrasing--"a codfish on a hook.") Again, Pan has no sympathy, but Wendy, who is starting to gradually open up her eyes to the truth that maybe staying a child forever isn't all it's cracked up to be and maybe adulthood isn't entirely bad, is losing her "child-lens." Not entirely. Not to the point where she doesn't continue to view Hook as comical to keep from being afraid. But enough to know that what Peter is about to do is wrong. She expresses this verbally when she shouts, "Oh, Peter, NO!"

It is at this point, shortly after the crocodile chase, that we start to see Hook become more of a legitimate threat (and a legitimately sympathetic character) again. Why? Because Wendy, as the protagonist and the one whose eyes we are looking through even more so than Pan, is starting to grow up and face reality for what it is--scary or not. As she sings "Your Mother and Mine" and tells her brothers that they NEED a mother--that Neverland has been fun but they NEED to go home--Hook is throwing Tinkerbelle in a lantern and planning to kidnap the kids and blow Pan to smithereens. And then we get the "slit his throat" reminder (mentioned above)... Also, as a side note, when Hook is ill after the crocodile chase, we hear him lamenting how Pan has made him look like a fool yet again. This is also something that I think we can appreciate more as adults. All Hook's crew wants is to go back to haunting the Spanish Main, but Hook refuses to leave Neverland because he feels that he has to remain there until he can regain his pride...which in and of itself is admirable, since many people who have been played the fool simply hang their head and walk away in shame. Here's this guy who has been bested by a child no more than twelve or thirteen--and possibly much younger... How must that feel? I have been in an emotionally abusive relationship where I was constantly reminded how I couldn’t do anything right, and it felt SO degrading. I literally just wanted to go hide away in my room and cry because I felt so incompetent and useless and just plain stupid. So how does Hook feel? Probably the same way. But he doesn't give up. If there's one thing we can say for sure about Disney Hook, he's a fighter. So, I guess you could say that, in part, one reason I find Disney Hook so sympathetic and tragic is because I can identify with him in his crippling reaction to fear and admire him for his bold attempts to reclaim his pride.

Anyway, getting back on track with the storyline... As we near the end of the film, Hook once again appears to lose face at the final showdown. At first, this doesn't seem to make sense if Wendy is, in fact, beginning to lose the child-lens. However, although Hook is defeated, we are never actually shown that he dies (and obviously, from the second film, in the Disney universe, he doesn't). I remember reading somewhere that when they were originally working on Peter Pan, Walt Disney chose to keep Hook alive and just have him "going like hell" rather than actually dying because, "the audience will get to liking Hook." And by this point, we have...those of us still looking through the child-lens love to hate him as a character we can laugh at, and those of us who are more grown-up love him for being just like us--an adult who is STILL growing up, in some ways, who is STILL afraid of certain things and hasn't always learned his lessons and isn't perfect but also isn't willing to give up even when everything is against him and everyone is laughing at him and nothing seems to go right.

Now, I said that at first, it doesn't seem to make sense for us to view Hook in a comical light in this scene if we are viewing the movie primarily through the eyes of the Darling children--particularly Wendy, who is starting to grow up and realize that adults are supposed to feel things like compassion for one's enemies. However, Wendy is still a child. She IS still afraid of growing up. In fact, she's terrified. And that comes out when the kids are all mocking Hook. He's still frightening to them. They still need the security blanket of pretend sometimes, of focusing on his more comical, vulnerable side...but they don't defeat Hook by killing him in this version, and I think that's significant. As representative primarily of the "scary" parts of growing up, Hook is temporarily cast aside and shoved to the back of their minds, but he IS NOT DEAD. The kids (and even Pan) know he may come back. They know he isn't gone for good. One day, they will have to face adulthood. One day, Hook--in the guise of mortgages and taxes and wars and sickly older parents--will return. But for now, they have defeated him...not just by pretending but by choosing to accept the responsibility of growing up eventually, in their own good time. Even Peter starts to reflect this theme by beating Hook, "man to man" without the use of flight. Wendy, who wants to be the good grown-up but who isn't quite ready to let go of childhood, warns Peter against it, thinking that it may be a trap. She even goes so far as to shout at him to fly when he has the chance even though he has promised not to. But Disney Pan is a bit more mature than some (maybe Wendy's better judgment is wearing off on him), and he keeps his word. He beats Hook "like a man" NOT like a boy. Pan's victory here symbolically reflects the Darling children's decision to face adulthood by going back to London. Thus, Hook is defeated because adulthood is no longer an obstacle which causes a fear is so crippling that the kids can't face it. When Wendy returns home, we get one last glimpse of this truth in Mr. Darling--the real-world representative of all things frightening and frustrating about growing up and, as I'm sure you know, also (significantly) voiced by Conried--who has done some "growing up" himself. Mr. Darling, it seems, is willing to allow Wendy a bit more time to enjoy life as a child, remembering his own childhood fondly, even as Wendy has chosen to accept the responsibility of growing up. Mr. Darling, who much like Hook, was viewed previously by the kids (and by extension, the audience) as a bit of a bully and an object of ridicule, is now the object of Wendy's affection as a mutual understanding is reached. Adulthood is frightening in many ways, but Wendy has also come to realize that it is necessary to take responsibility for one's actions and feel compassion for others just as Mr. Darling has realized that sometimes, it's okay for kids to be kids and enjoy the moment. Essentially, what I'm saying is--borrowing the idea that Hook and Mr. Darling are two sides of the same coin--Hook in Neverland, chased away by the crocodile, appears as comical in the last scene only because he effectively gets one last serious scene through his London counterpart, staring wistfully out the window with a loving wife and child by his side. Wendy isn't quite yet grown up, so she still sees through the child-lens on occasion, but she is learning, gradually, to embrace that which she once feared. She no longer needs Hook, an imaginary figure, to personify that fear. She now has her father back, and though she now RESPECTS what he stands for, she is no longer so terrified of growing up that she can't appreciate the GOOD side of the future (such as having a husband and a family of her own someday) and look forward to it.

[uponrightful]

Hi! I’ve just finished Welcome Company-it was so good, your writing is amazing! I have a question about one of the last scenes if that’s OK? Partly about Pups point of view, because a lot of what happened to her post Order 66 is clearly in her mind, but seems to read differently emotionally later if that makes sense? I’d also like to know why you decided to include the scene of Pup having to fight one last time. -RebelMedic99

“Wolffe! Please!” She sobbed through the pain and fear, whimpering when the kid pulled her own arm around her throat, locking in a chokehold she was unable to break from. He laughed dryly in her ear, yanking on her broken wrist to elicit another scream.

“He’s not coming back you little slut.” He fell into another fit of laughter, “And even if he did you’ll be so used he won’t even want to look at you.” His evil words cut right through her. She was already broken, and yet another piece was about to be taken, and smashed on the floor right in front of her. She felt the pain of his remarks, feeling just as useless as he’d appraised.

She wanted to fight anyways.

The pain in her wrist didn’t subside, but it wasn’t going to stop until she got his filthy hands off her. And without that blaster, she really didn’t have a chance at getting off the ship, or keeping the ship safe until Wolffe got back. She struggled to keep her breath even, fighting to pull her broken wrist out of his grasp so she could get free.

Think fast…

Get him off guard…

“You really want me?” She choked out, wincing from the abrasive words cutting at her tongue. If he was that young, there was a chance he’d fall for it and drop the -hopefully- act long enough for her to grab the upper hand.

“You’re a fucking slut! Already turning towards the closest man you can get in your pants!” He snarled, yanking her wrist again. The girl held back her cry, again repeating the question for him, praying it would make a bigger impact this time.

“I’ll behave. I promise.” She faked convincingly enough through her tears. The kid’s grip faltered just for a second before retaining its unflinching need to inflict pain again. Yet, by miracle, he released her wrist and stepped back with the blaster dropped down at his side. Miraculously, his anger suddenly disappeared, and a look of disbelief came over him.

“Pick me.” He ordered harshly, as she turned to face him.

Everything moved so quickly.

Commentary Track for Welcome Company

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I’ll give my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character’s- when I wrote it!

*send one in here*

This one is challenging, but we'll see if I can explain it without sounding like a complete dumbass... 😅

***

We'll start with addressing her emotional shift towards Order 66 first, and that will help set up the reasoning why she had this "last stand" at the end. (This won't be from her POV, it'll make things a little simpler.)

Pup's true knowledge of what Order 66 is comes in small bits and pieces after she flees Coruscant. It's obvious right away that something changed, but it's not for a really long time that she finds out that there might be something "unwilling" about the whole situation. In this time frame -of a couple years- she's actually left to her own devices and thought-process to make sense of it all. And a couple of years can really take a toll on someone's perception of what is really going on.

There is talk of manipulation, and how 'robotic' the clones are. All of it culminating in a bunch of half-assed theories as to why they suddenly have this unbending will for the Empire when they fought for the Republic for so long. (The bar fight Wolffe was in, is where I tried to explore this a little bit with the Cerean.) But Pup only hears rumors, and those weak excuses aren't enough to dissuade her fear of seeing troopers again. Because ultimatley, there are hundreds of them who'd been to her home, and in her mind, it's possible that they could come after her and punish her for that. It's not a realistic fear, but if you combine it with her last experience with a clone, it's one that would easily create a serious emotional trigger.

I meant for it to be a tad bit confusing when reading her emotions. Pup wants to love the clones -and she still does- but seeing one of them in real life would be fucking terrifying. Their sweet memories are always there, and she does her best to only think of those. However it's easy to be reminded of why she can't still see them, when she's living on a backwater planet to try and reassure herself that she'll never have to risk seeing a clone again. Because all of the love that they'd given her -in her mind- is completely gone the second she's shot by one.

And her entire being is damaged assuming that Wolffe is no different than the rest of them. Pup knows all the clones are acting this way, and Wolffe is really no exception. So even though she loves him dearly it's really scary when she sees him for the first time after all these years. Is he safe? Is there something still wrong with him? Does he want to take her with him, back to the Empire? These are all questions she has, because she's never seen a clone after Order 66 without a functioning chip.

The reason her change of heart is so sudden, is because Pup didn't let go of the good memories she had of her troopers. That integral part of her character is to forgive and be patient -even if she's been damaged by something or someone. Yes, she keeps it bottled up. But that was because she couldn't get rid of her base traits. You can't wholly change your personality very easily, and Pup never really wanted to in the first place. She was just forced to create this harder persona so she could survive. Then after Wolffe comes back, and he's painstakingly careful in trying to prove that he's not under influence any longer, it makes that desire to care for him -like she's always had- come back much smoother.

(It's a continuity error that I never gave a proper scene dedication to it; But I did have a draft that included an Order 66 conversation with Rex and Pup during that scene in Chapter 14.)

I chose not to include it because I wanted someone to focus on Pup's traumas faced during the transition period of planet-hopping. It might sound cruel of me to not include his struggles, but they've been covered so many times in other fics, that I gave the assumption my "Initial Implementation" scene and "Chip Removal Scene" would be emotionally sympathetic and exploratory enough of how Wolffe felt during and after, without needing to express it to you directly. Not to mention, after Pup and Wolffe are reunited, she's not stupid enough to not infer that it was against his will. She quite frequently notes throughout that his guilty looks and hesitancy to make physical contact with her are very noticeable and telling of how he feels about his time with the Empire.

All of this said, now her fight scene:

Right before they leave the cabin, she's feeling a little loss of home. But really, Pup never had too much of an attachment to her house on Takodana in the first place. What's really getting her emotional at this point is the realization that she finally has Wolffe back. It's security she's wanted this whole time, and although the boys aren't letting her help with the bounty, she's willing to do whatever they want because she understands that they've got the experience here. Plus, she's really not physically able to do a whole lot after her slight hypothermia exposure.

I wanted her weak for this: Emotionally, physically, mentally. It had to be that way for a reason.

Until this point, Pup hasn't ever shown a real motivation to fight for anything, other than making the trip to the outpost to save her friend. BUT. That's risking herself to save someone else. Pup has never done anything for her own benefit, without it being equally helpful for someone else. Even when she got Wolf, it wasn't just for herself. Iahcen was getting something out of it as well.

I know it's cliche, but her last moments alone on that ship waiting was where her character development needed to reach and end. Because I made the overarching plot of fighting for love, but I needed that same lesson to be learned in-story, as well to round it out. It had to be Pup, because she's been running this whole time. Wolffe can't learn it, because he's been fighting the entire time.

The kid is a symbol of kindness not being returned. This is key, because Pup has always been nice -even when she didn't need to be. And he attacks her for that. He comes in as the tool to show her that being kind doesn't always work; And sometimes you have to stand against something, instead of running or letting someone run over her. I also made certain to have the kid attack Wolffe's character. This was essential, because Pup has nothing else she wants to fight for. Wolffe has always been her one essential thing, and he was what made her realize that being a little selfish and desiring something isn't a bad thing. This kid is a product of her sympathetic nature, and he's willingly insulting and threatening her chance at having the one thing Pup has always wanted.

Pup needed fight or flight, and the only time her 'fight mode' kicks in, is when she realizes there's something she wants. On Coruscant, she had nothing, so she ran. Pup wanted to live for Wolffe, in the hopes that he might still be alive, and that was the first time her fight response kicked in. Then her friend was in danger of dying, that was the second time she chose to fight.

Her love and security in Wolffe was being threatened, and that was Pup's final character development, and why she needed this fight scene without Wolffe -or anyone else's assistance- in the matter.

***

I hope this wasn't garbage 😅 and I explained it decently... If not, please let me know. I'll do anything I can to answer your questions!

Much Love, Rightful 🤍

[magaprima]

Okay, maybe it’s my knowledge of history, maybe it’s the fact I did studies years ago into human trafficking where similar instances happened, maybe it’s knowing people in my family’s countries have had to do similar things throughout history, maybe it’s the fact I remember my lit tutor saying ‘how a person reacts to a fictional character’s plight is revealing of how they would behave in reality’, but I am getting so fed up of people condemning Lilith for what happened to Adam, or worse, mocking and belittling it like ‘omg she straight up murdered her kid lmao wtf’ which was actually a real comment I just fucking deleted off a GIF set I made. See, this is why I’m seeing these idiots, because they feel the need to comment on a GIF they’re NOT EVEN REBLOGGING. But whatever, I digress. My point of this post is:

 LILITH DID NOT MURDER ADAM. SHE DID NOT KILL HIM IN PETTY REVENGE. SHE DID A HEARTBREAKING THING THAT MADE HER WANT TO DIE WHEN IT WAS DONE IN ORDER TO SAVE HIM FROM THE HORRENDOUS CRUELTY AND ABUSE SHE HAD SUFFERED FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. And this is without the added consideration that the trauma of such a painful, unnatural birth and post-natal exhaustion and other hormone/chemical issues would have effected decision making and problem processing. 

Okay, so listen; mothers killing their children to spare them from horrors is not an invented concept. It is horrendously true and has happened throughout history. Primarily, to stop their children being taken into slavery, being raped by invaders, saved from sex rings or taken for whatever miscellaneous yet horrendous situation they’re in, which has included abusive fathers. I am speaking as someone who is Irish, where Cromwell swept the land throwing children into slavery (my great-great-so-on Uncle was a child who was taken, but he survived, and we have relatives out in the Caribbean due to this, which is also how a great-great.great-grandparent met his wife. But again, I digress) and knows there were instances where those, unable to hide their children, killed them rather than submit them to the absolute horrors Cromwell’s men were inflicting (they raped a lot of women, murdered the men, raped and/or stole the children. Whole villages were decimated) and as someone with Mexican grandparents and knows how ancestors were treated so violently and cruelly by invaders that killing children to spare them was by no means an uncommon reaction (and an entirely understandable one).

The most famous incident of this happening, possibly because she was already a slave and therefore considered ‘property’ rather than an unnamed native person being dragged from their home, and it was recent enough for official news reports, was Margaret Garner. She was a runaway slave, and, when surrounded by slavers to take her back, she cut the throat of her 2 year old daughter, and planned to kill her other three children and then herself, but the slavers got to her first. They then told her she was property and not a mother at all, and they weren’t her children, but the slaver’s property and therefore she’d damaged property. The horror of that story is undeniable and Margaret’s actions undeniably understandable and cry for sympathy and empathy....and YET, there are still people who condemn her today. Really. So it shouldn’t surprise me there are people condemning a woman in a fictional story too. 

More recently, there have been cases/stories coming forward of human trafficking victims, getting pregnant through no fault of their own, and, knowing the child would be trafficked too, have smothered them in their sleep before they could be taken. 

Lilith is an abuse victim. Severely abused. She is treated as a slave, Lucifer even says ‘you belong to me and only me’ considering her to be his property, ‘Lilith knows her place; to serve’, ‘there is no escape to Tibet or anywhere else’. Lilith, really, in part 1 and half of part 2 has fucking Stockholm Syndrome; she has no reason to be loyal to Lucifer, we see how afraid she is of him, yet she sticks by him and is grateful for the scraps of approval he gives her. She has suffered so much abuse for thousands of years and lived through it that she had been entirely mentally conditioned by it. It took a huge amount of inner strength, and developing relationships with others (namely Sabrina and Adam 2.0, but also the likes of Theo Putnam, Mrs Meeks) for her to break free of that mindset.

But Lucifer is her abuser. There are countless instances of where we see her absolute terror; look how she begs for mercy after Sabrina’s failed Dark Baptism, how she flinches and covers her face when he comes near her, think of the terror in her eyes when he says ‘and you know what I’m like when I’m bored’, think of her sickening fear in part 3 when she realises the Dark Lord is free, how full of panic and fear she is trying to find out where he’s hiding, of how she desperately tries to hide at fucking Mary’s to get away from him, how she’s dragged out by her hair, think of the fear she has on her face when she chooses to face him and watch the horror on her face as she realises what he’ll do to Adam, and look at the fear and broken spirit of her when she realises she can’t stop him. 

Lucifer has abused Lilith for millennia and convinced her that it was love that he was ‘lifting her up’ and ‘making her worthy’, classic abuser language. He even used her own freaking familiar against her. She was treated as property, treated however he chose in that particular moment, and by her own claim she’s done ‘unspeakable things’ to help him, believing she loved him. THOUSANDS of years of abuse and she’s only recently broken free of that, before she’s forced back into his arms, metaphorically-speaking. She is now, however, aware it’s abuse, and she knows what she’s suffered, and how cruel he is, and how he made her into something else, how he used that abuse and cruelty to mould her into what he wanted (think how differently she behaves when she’s his ‘loyal servant’ to how she behaves when she’s free from him and independent. We see a very different Lilith). She knows what Adam will suffer, because she’s suffered it herself. When Lucifer says he’ll suckle on a hell hound and ‘toughen him up and all that’, the expression on Lilith’s face is heartbreaking; she knows exactly what he means by toughen him up. It’s the same as ‘make you worthy’. And the thought of her son going through everything she went through, and then constantly having to fight for his life, fighting against Caliban or Caliban’s children, suffering everything Lilith has, but never having known anything else, never having anyone who loves him truly, no one who could help him escape...it fills Lilith with fear. 

And, she’s seen the Dark Lord get his way over and over again. She’s seen how even Sabrina accepts him as her Father now. She knows the Aunts offered to protect her, but even Hilda is only suggesting they leave, like they can’t actually physically fight him, only do their best to keep Lilith safe. And Lilith knows he’ll find her eventually; her experiences and her severe abuse mean she sees it as inevitable, because she’s ‘learned’ it’s inevitable. Lilith cannot see a possible way to keep baby Adam safe. She knows the only way she can protect him from the Dark Lord is to kill him, and destroy the body (or devour the body, however you wish to interpret the bloody scene) so he can’t resurrect him after he’s killed her. Because, yes, Lilith intends to die. Like Margaret Garner, her plan was to die WITH her child, but she was stopped. Lucifer knew that was her intent, that that was what she wanted (she does openly beg him to kill her) and that is exactly why he makes her immortal, so she can never be with her son, but by cursing her with humanity-- to age and rot etc-- he’s making sure she will only get weaker and not have the power to get back her son by any means. 

Lilith continues to try to join her son throughout the next episode, to the point of getting a hold of the only blade that can kill an immortal, and it’s only when Marie gives her her son’s spirit, placing it in something solid, meaning-- with magic-- Lilith does have a chance to bring her son back, that instead of wanting to die, she decides to destroy Lucifer instead, as she has nothing to lose. Either, she destroys Lucifer and takes all her power back and gets her son back, or she fails and she dies. She essentially becomes a woman with nothing to lose, and they’re the most dangerous people, because there’s nothing to make them hesitate. As Lucifer learned in a very hard way. 

[summonerscenarios]

If you do angst, can you do hcs on Ophion, Oniwaka, and Zabiniyya in this scenario. They get kidnapped. The 3 guys are then shown loops of them and MC falling in love, but it shows that those loops end with them betraying and killing MC. Luckily, they get saved by MC and Co. How would they feel toward MC after being shown all of that?

ooooooh okay so this one has been a long time coming but I think it finally came out okay!!! Apologies it may have come off a bit more serious than intended but I do  hope that it’s okay~!

--------

Ophion

The kidnappers have definitely got either extremely accurate Intel or got extremely lucky to have managed to find the great Ophion in a moment of supposed weakness. Inevitably his overconfidence in his own abilities that gets him captured — he underestimated his opponents by assuming that their strength was merely in their numbers. And it is because of this that he’s unable to see the incoming onslaught of attacks, forcing his guard down long enough for them to charge in and bring him to his knees.

Ophion’s kidnappers make no attempts to hide their location — their movements would seem sloppy to anyone else as they transport him back to their destination, however by the time they arrive at the location in question it’s clear that it’s on purpose. They want someone to come for him, meaning that they plan to make this quick and that’s a dangerous game to be involved in. His restraints may keep him bound for now but he’s already testing them for weaknesses, waiting for the right moment to snap them off as he’s tied down in one of the building's many rooms.

Though he’s enraged over his capture he’s smarter than to waste his breath angering his kidnappers; instead he tries to get as much information out of them as he could, and surprisingly they’re more open to his questions than he’d first thought. They let slip about an orb and memories and it is then that they seem to decide that they have waited long enough. The orb comes into view, cradled in the leader’s arms as it is presented to Ophion, however the dragon has little time to observe the weird sphere before something begins to force its way into his thoughts.

The memories that begin to seep out of the crevices within his mind are new, or so he thinks — he recognizes the places and faces of those he’s seen before, and knows somewhere deep within himself that these memories are his own, and yet they couldn’t feel more foreign to him even as they click into place. Many come and go through this bizarre slideshow, but the one who shines above them all is of course you, his beloved spouse. He watches these moments that have passed yet don’t exist; of taking you into his arms, hearing you laugh as you relax against his broad chest, a content look of pure adoration on your face. Your skin feels real beneath his hand and lips as he relieves these memories of intimate moments you’ve shared together, recalling the eager smiles, the long nights and the quiet times of mutual understanding between you - it’s more than what he could have ever desired...

Your first death comes without warning. The moments leading up to it are lost under a sheer wave of memories as they filter through the correct ones to show him, and suddenly Ophion is now acutely aware of their intentions as he looks down at you unmoving form from his own eyes. You’re curled up as though mid crawl at his feet, one hand wrapped around his ankles and nails digging into the scales unwilling to release even in death. If it wasn’t for the pain he would have cast it aside as a lie, a mere illusion to wear away his spirit, but as the memories begging to pour in, further and further burrowing into his mind he realizes this is not a one time occurrence.

 More and more blood is spilt, it stains his golden scales a burning scarlet and his claws still hold remains of your flesh; every battle ends in a similarly brutal fashion seeing through to your demise at his own hands. You put up a fight till the very end, even mortally wounded you don’t give up, a testament to your devotion to a better future; in any other circumstance seeing you fight would light the fire of pride deep within his heart, but now? As he hears you cry and scream and beg and fight? It pierces deeper than any blade could hope to touch and it twists.

Ophion is appalled at his own actions - what could possibly have deluded this old self of his into believing that your death was just? What could it have possibly fixed? He isn’t privy to such answers, a move that he knows is intentional and suddenly the rage within him bubbles once again at the thought of his kidnappers. It is this that finally breaks him out of this death cycle, and he comes to alone in that same room, but not for long. 

You’re the one to find him first, and at the sound of your voice calling out to him Ophion’s head snaps up to meet your own; it only takes a few tries at his restraints before he’s free and almost immediately he takes you into his arms, ignoring the squeak of surprise it pulls out of you in favor of holding you impossibly close. Of course you laugh it off as his usual eccentric tricks however this time it’s anything but - his hold is firm but now keenly aware of how fragile you can be and his main focus is hearing your heartbeat, feeling your pulse and watching the rise and fall of your chest to assure himself that the you before him is truly alive — alive and unharmed.

He does his best to take these new memories to heart — they are valuable lessons of the errors which he was foolish enough to make and they are not ones that he will allow to take place again so long as there is breath in his lungs. However he does not come out of the experience mentally unscathed. In moments of silence his mind brings back these memories, the voices and screams being the most prevalent to worm into his thoughts. Ophion also finds himself hesitating to touch you; it’s as though your very body is glass beneath his claws, cracks blossoming across your skin visible to none but himself in his mind’s eye. It angers him more than anything to realize this hesitation, but he’s unable to shake it long after this event, as though his body waits for those memories to repeat themselves once again...

Oniwaka

Oniwaka is pissed. He’d barely even let his guard down for a minute and look where it gets him! He’s been in his fair share of scraps and knows that anyone with the balls to try and corner him in an alleyway is looking for a fight. The trouble is he’s so sure that he can take them on no problem that he doesn’t even realize just how badly they’ve got him pinned until he’s surrounded with his back to the wall. Obviously he’s not going to take getting kidnapped lying down and quite literally fights tooth and nail, dealing out some pretty heavy damage against his attackers before they finally manage to knock him down and out cold. 

By the time he comes to it’s clear he’s been moved somewhere else. He’s bound tightly enough that each attempt at deep breaths hurts and he doesn’t recognize the area; though it’s so suspiciously clean, sterile and well kept that it sets red flags off in his head almost immediately. It also doesn’t take him long to notice that he’s not alone in the room. The only other person in the room is looking at him without saying a word, which is even more unnerving than if they’d been openly mocking him about the situation. There’s a few minutes where there’s only silence. That damn, stretching silence that’s long enough that he’s on the defensive the moment that his kidnapper finally stands up.

He’s fully preparing himself for some kind of interrogation, waiting for the weapons to be drawn and blood to be spilt. He’s snarling at them trying to get them to back off when they reach back for something, pulling out some kind of black orb and before he can even snap at them asking what the fuck that is it just hits him.

Something’s tugging at the back of his mind, unlocking an empty space in his head and filling it up with information that feels like it should have been there all along. Oniwaka sees you. He remembers times spent together with you that he shouldn’t, times where you’re smiling and holding hands and pressed impossibly close where all he could touch and breathe was you - they’re times of love. And he remembers none of it. He knows that these are his memories but he can’t wrap his head around what he’s seeing - the two of you were together, in love even, and watching this all play out makes something in his chest swell that he can’t describe...it almost feels nice to know that you shared this kind of relationship, and could even share it again this time around.

The pleasant memories don’t last for long however, they’re all too soon ripped away from his mind and suddenly there’s betrayal and blood scarring his every thought when he realizes the outcome of this loop. You die, cut down by his very own blade and bleeding out right in front of him and he watches himself...do absolutely nothing. The ...other Oniwaka just watches you as your breathing slows and then your chest stops rising...your tears stop falling...the whimpers grow quiet...and just like that he’s alone...until it resets.

And that’s not the only time either. He sees it again and again, your death played out in so many different ways and places that he loses track, but all of them end with one glaring similarity - your death is his fault. It tears him apart from the inside out seeing the replays. He can feel your flesh breaking open beneath his weapon, feel you clawing at the hands wrapped around your throat, see the look of utter betrayal begging him for answers —Why? Why are you doing this?! Maybe it’s the kidnappers’ intentions all along or just pure misfortune but those answers don't come with these memories and this is probably worse than any other pain they could have inflicted on him- and the whole time this is happening that’s all he can ask himself. 

Why? What led to this point? Why did he betray you? Ruin your trust? Kill you?!

There’s no telling how much time passes between the first wave of memories and his rescue. By the time that you and the Summoners find out where he is and come to save him the kidnappers are long gone and his head is still reeling from the relentless assault of new(old?) memories. Oniwaka is uncharacteristically quiet, tuning out most of what is being said as he’s cut free; he’s glad that he can breathe easier now but the room still feels stifling with the weight of what happened there. When Oniwaka sees you approach him he tenses up and immediately steps around you, stating bluntly that they need to get out of here and walking right on ahead, much to the concern of you and the other Summoners.

You try to talk to him but you’ll get nothing aside from one worded answers and the occasional grunt. All attempts at conversation end up at dead ends and even though it kills him to see the hurt look on your face he knows that he’ll probably end up snapping at you if he tries to answer.

He completely cuts contact with you all for a long while after that, but checks on you from time to time when you don’t notice him. Oniwaka’s going to try and work through the memories that he’s got to deal with on his own and is torn between his promise of protecting you and the worry over what he could do to you if he gets too close. He’s seen it first hand what getting attached to you can lead to and he doesn’t even know what triggers it. Every time that he looks at his hands he can see your blood staining them no matter how many times he’s tried to scrub it away. The only thing he really hopes is that those Summoners can protect you more than he can, because he’s struggling to even trust himself around you from this point onwards. 

Zabaniyya 

Out of the three of them Zabaniyya would very likely be the hardest to capture. The flames he commands and the strength of his rule is perfectly tailored to his days of being a torturer and it would take many enemies, time and sheer luck to wear him down enough to be able to take him. He had only stepped away from the Aoyama guilds territory for a short while, having just seen you off from your visit and was on his way to return back when they had accosted him, swarming in abruptly and keeping him cornered off in a space small enough where his flames would not be as effective.Clearly they were waiting for this moment and had timed it carefully to leave room for little error, however he could not afford to let these people do as they pleased.

Zabaniyya doesn’t feel the hit that takes him out — and finds himself waking up chained down and restrained in a place unfamiliar to him some time later. It’s crude work but strong enough that his limbs are stiff and beginning to numb. There’s little time to wonder over the kidnapper’s purpose for taking him when the door on the far end of the room opens up and someone walks in - though from his position anything from the waist up is hard to make out. Their footsteps are calm but cautious; they’re smart enough to realize that even restrained he’s still very much a danger to them, yet the fact that they still continue to approach as though confident in their safety causes an unusual feeling to settle within him...apprehension perhaps? 

There’s a moment where the transient wonders if this is how those tortured by his flames had felt - waiting for an inevitable blow to come no matter how prepared they allow themselves to believe they are. Surely the reason for his capture has to do with his ties to you, as few would go through this length to use him as leverage against his own guild when there were many others easier to take. It is with this mindset that he resolves himself that he will not break no matter the pain that these captors intend to inflict on him. The only words he hears his captors speak is the hushed words of “Gotta make this one quick” before the orb comes into view.

The memories come suddenly. There is no warning, no command that starts the presentation of past loops but nonetheless they are there, worming their way through his mind and weaving into the missing gaps until the memories start to take shape. Feelings, touch, taste, noise - they all come along with the images of forgotten moments, and many things begin to click into place watching them play out before him. He’s surprised to find you so tightly woven into these sets of memories, and it jarrs him further upon realizing that it is clear the two of you have a relationship far deeper than a tool and a summoner. These newfound moments of intimacy stir up something within him; it’s greedy and fiery and it makes his fingertips ache to recreate what he sees before him. Seeing you smile and weave your fingers between his own, watching your mere presence that can light up an entire room focus directly upon his previous self as though he is the only one on your mind. It’s selfish but it’s something he finds himself wanting desperately.

However it is then that this train of thought is all but shattered once the endings begin to play. There is no happy ending, no pleasant outcome to allow him to fantasize about your perceived future together. The first time he held your dying body in his arms felt too horrific to be real; you were scorched, beaten and every breath is a struggle and yet you were still kind to him. You’d looked up into his eyes and told him you understood, even though you were hurting, scarred and scared. His previous self had enough decency to prevent you from suffering any further, but it was only the beginning of many. 

Each betrayal followed a similar pattern - the periods of bliss between them fluctuate from days, to weeks to mere hours before an event triggers the fight that sparks between you.It appears as though you are the only one caught in the crossfire, the other Summoners fortunately spared yet seemingly absent when you would need them most. Your deaths were almost always swift which he finds a twisted blessing, but the cumulative pain that you must have experienced over and over again at his very own hands no less destroys Zabaniyya more than any form of torture these kidnappers could have subjected him to.  

Zabaniyya only comes back to his senses once he hears voices, knocking him out of whatever stupor the orb had left him in. He recognizes it as Toji and Ryota, hearing them getting closer right as they open the door to find him, surprise washing over their faces before Ryota rushes forward to check on him and Toji calls out to the others that they’d found him. While still trying to gain his bearings he’s able to shuck off what’s left of his shackles and get to his feet by the time the other Summoners make it inside the room. He’s attempting to ease Ryota’s worries about being hurt as the boy swarms him in near tears when he feels a comforting hand pressing against his shoulder. There’s a single moment where he forgets what he’s witnessed as he looks up to meet your gaze, but as he watches your face melt from concern to relief it’s as though that warm hand scorches his very flesh and he tears away as though burned.

He’s failed you, that much is clear to him. Even if he were to argue that those versions of himself aren’t the person that he is now the fact that it happened in the first place is irredeemable enough in his eyes. He isn’t able to look you in the eyes the whole time; every time he looks at you he’s haunted by the stench of your charred flesh and those warm eyes looking at him in worry only aid in sickening him further remembering them hollow and void. The moment that you go your separate ways he’s steeled himself in the resolve that he refuses to allow these loops to ever repeat themselves. He still desires to be your spear, and devotes himself to the role of a tool for your use should you ever need it, but in every other sense he is completely closed off from anything beyond that. The reasoning of ‘if he doesn’t allow himself to fall prey to his own emotions then he will be able to keep you safe’ is the only way of thinking that he allows himself to entertain and in this he isn’t going to waver.

In the end he doesn’t tell you or the Summoners what he saw — he knows that he should, you deserve the right to know what exactly happened in those past loops, and yet every time he considers confessing to you his chest tightens at the thought of you looking at him as some kind of monster when you inevitably learn that he killed you. Surely you could never forgive him? Even if you did he’d never forgive himself; and so he keeps it from you as his own sin to bear, one that he will never stop punishing himself for.