#he was fucking willing to give up his body for the goal of killing you

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick

Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.

Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:

Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.

And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.

Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.

Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”

Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.

There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.

~~~~~~

Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.

The local birds:

~~~~~~

Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.

Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.

~~~~~

Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.

Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.

Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?

Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.

~~~~~

Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.

Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.

Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.

Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.

Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.

Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.

~~~~~

Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.

~~~~~

Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.

Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream

~~~~~

Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.

[suiana]

yandere general x traitor reader

"..why?"

"how could you expect me to love an empire who took everything away from me? even moreso the guy who made my life a living hell?"

being the sole survivor of a fallen kingdom was a hard thing to accept, especially when you had been forced to become a slave to the monstrous empire who did this to you. you, a member of a royal family had been forced to become a slave in a matter of five days.

it was shocking at first. in fact, you refused to accept it. you still believed that your family was alive, that you were a cheerful and happy royal member of a prosperous little kingdom. yet the constant beatings, insults and mockery from the victor empire dragged you out of that delusion.

the embarrassment, shame, and guilt you had to bare was insulting. to think that a royal member would be reduced to such a status of cleaning horse shit... death would've been a much better option.

he should've killed you. he really should've. why did he even spare you? it made no sense at all. because why would a war general, known for being heartless and cruel, even spare a member of the royal family they were sent to kill?

the emperor wouldn't even question it! just accepted the general's actions and went along his merry way! fuck, you were honestly looking forward to getting beheaded at the possibility of getting killed off... but the general just had to be so trustworthy that the emperor would allow him to do as he pleases. and the fact that he was from a powerful duchy didn't help either.

and so, you had to clean up shit for a while, sleeping in rags and getting beaten up by people of the opposing nation. it was humiliating. you had considered ending yourself on multiple occasions, yet the cautious eyes of the general you had been forced to work for prevented you from doing so.

whenever you tried something dangerous, he'd always be there to stop you. it was as if he were watching you, carefully monitoring you like a specimen. worse of all! he didn't beat you up or berate you for attempting suicide! he did the exact opposite! gently tending to your wounds, kissing your forehead while washing your now frail body... he treated you more like a lover than a slave.

initially, you were confused by his caring actions. didn't he spare you just so he could torment you? but when you observed how his eyes would soften, how you had preferential treatment, you couldn't help but feel the need to use him.

he did whatever you wanted him to. getting rid of those who bullied you, giving you the status of a servant rather than a slave, money, information. he gave you everything you asked for. all he asked in return was your love. but how could you give it to him when he was the one who changed your life for good? luckily you were an amazing actor.

you played him like a fool, dancing around him like this were all but a silly show for your entertainment. and it truly was. for you were secretly gathering a rebellion against him and the empire. thankfully the empire had lots of enemies, so many were willing to join you. it took lots of effort and patience but you had finally done it. and now it was time for the final act to begin.

fire, murder, death. the plan was simple enough. give the empire what it deserved. you had to attribute majority of your success to the general, really. for if it weren't for his foolishness this plan would've never worked out. I mean, who would in their right mind fall for the one who ruined their life? the general had too much of a fantasy that you'd willingly accept him. so much so that it was a little pathetic.

the night hadn't gone as smoothly as you wanted it to be but nonetheless, the main goal was accomplished. murder the royal family and tear down the empire. sure, it was cruel. but they had it coming for them. after all this was the kingdom who did as they wished. starting wars for no reason, invading lands that did not belong to them... this was merely retribution.

you laughed heartily, staring at the destruction around you as you prepared to leave. yet, one person stood in your path. the general who wanted nothing but your love.

tear stricken and heartbroken he stared at you like you had committed the worst crime. but you couldn't really care. you tried getting your horse to speed away from him. however, he wasn't the most feared general for nothing. within a few seconds the positions were reversed and he had the high ground.

you laid on the cobblestone streets, his sword beside your neck as he cried silently while the empire burnt to ashes. no! you couldn't fail! not when everything had gone smoothly! you tried squirming away only for him to stop you by caging your body in between his body. his sword had been discarded and he had resorted to using his body to keep you with him.

and you couldn't stop him. not when he was twice your size with strength rivaling a god's.

"I... I am very disappointed."

you rolled your eyes at his sentence. however, you remained completely still in his arms as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. whatever, you'll just run away when he stands up and things will be all back to plan. you just have to deal with his antics for a little while longer.

"I never thought you would act out. not when we were so in love. I guess... I'll just have to teach you."

you sighed. what was he onto now? he had lost his duchy, his empire and-

"let's die together, shall we?"

he smiles at you, tears completely dry as he brings a small dagger up to your cheek. your heartbeat started to race, eyes widened as you shook your head in fear. wait was he serious?!

"don't worry darling. I'll kill myself after I kill you. then we'll be together for all eternity..."

he continues smiling as the sharp dagger caresses your neck, threatening to draw blood.

"I love you so much, my dear. It's just a shame you had to act out like this. I truly wanted to live a happy ever after with you! if only you hadn't brought ruin to the empire...."

he mumbles sadly, pressing the knife against your throat harshly, drawing small beads of blood that stained the dagger red.

"I'll see you in hell in a minute."

slice!

and the world fades to black.

[whoreforhorror]

Slasher with an S/O who self-harms

Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair

Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood

Billy Loomis

Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed. 

He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.

You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?

Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.

He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.

You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.

He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment. 

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”

Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.

Hannibal Lecter

The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?

Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.

“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.

And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.

He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.

Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.

He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.

Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?

Rusty Nail

Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.

“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.

He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.

When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.

As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.

He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.

When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well. 

He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.

Michael Myers

Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.

Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.

When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.

He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock. 

Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.

Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.

Bo Sinclair

It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?

Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out. 

“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you. 

“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.” 

You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. 

He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.

“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself. 

In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.

After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.

Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill. 

Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself. 

[maybe-moonchild]

CH1 summary: you might have won but you’re still the biggest loser. WC: 5.7K

⋆˙𓋼𓍊 ⋆⭒𓆣˚.𓍊 ⋆𓆙

“The fuck was that Kaston?” you called out the moment your feet touched the grass. You had a white knuckle grip on your broom in one hand, storming across the pitch towards your teammate. Not even the cheers and screams from the Slytherin section could remedy the crackle of anger in our chest. 

Elias Kaston lolled his head in your direction over his shoulder, a smirk only growing at the sight of your pink cheeks and clenched teeth. Alder and Jordan snickered behind him as they folded their arms over their chest in an attempt to play his groupies. 

As Slytherin’s captain, you should’ve been ecstatic over the win. You had been the one working your ass off all year to secure the 1976 Quidditch House Cup. 

Except you had spent the entire game trying to score while also dodging the bludgers Kaston had intentionally sent your way.

It had been intentional in order to- what? Knock you off your broom? Kill you? At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had been hoping you would snap your neck before halftime. 

You’d managed to evade most of them, still going after the quaffle and shooting at the goals as they whizzed past your head at the very last second. All of them, aside from one that you hadn’t seen from behind, whipping around at the last second as it connected roughly with your shoulder. The momentum sent you flipping over your broom and nearly plummeting fifty feet. Thank Merlin you managed to keep a grip on the handle and haul yourself back on over the cheers from the crowd. 

“Got a problem?” Kaston barely put any effort into feigning innocence. Why would he? He wants you to know that he’s so determined to get rid of you that he’s willing to sacrifice his own team's win to do so. He stands a bit straighter to emphasize his lack of fear. 

“Yeah! You.” You closed  the distance without hesitation, coming to stop at his feet. If you weren’t seething, all consumed how disheartening this season had been even with the frequent wins. 

A few heads turned in your direction but most of the Gryffindor team was reconvening around their captain. The students in the stands were too busy shuffling towards the stairs, disappointed in the outcome of the match, and not even interested in staying  to cheer while others outright booed. 

You didn’t care. Not when you’re practically boiling under your uniform in animosity for the slimy asshole that has a head on you in height. 

“Seriously Kaston,” Keith scoffed, jogging to catch up as back up in the form of his fists. “Someone could’ve gotten seriously injured.” 

At the sound of his voice, Lance glanced over from his spot with the Gryffindor team, frowning wearily at the scene unfolding. You were sure the last thing that Lance wanted was to break Keith up from a fight right after Keith had been one to catch the snitch. 

This time, you would happily and personally punch Kaston himself. 

You’d been fighting with your teammates all year since Slughorn had named you captain at the start of sixth year. Things had never been particularly warm between you and your team, but you had always made it work the best you could. The other chasers eventually would give in and pass you the quaffle during a match to prevent losing. 

This year, it seemed that they didn’t mind losing at the expense of undermining everything you did. Half the team showed up on a given practice; those that did barely listened to you.

Your clothes had been stolen from your locker multiple times following a morning practice which made you have to return to your common room to shower, therefore were late to class. You’d received some broom handles to the ribs, quaffles to the head, and the occasional full on body slam. 

It didn’t matter that you were captain or that you had managed to get your team to win the cup, all you would ever be reduced to was your blood status; muggleborn. 

“What?” Kaston pouted, head cocking to the side. “Would’ve thought you’d be able to handle yourself.”

Stiffening, you barely let him finish, “You almost threw the match!”

 If you weren’t so pissed, you would be impressed at how you don’t back away, standing chest to chest and unrelenting in holding his eye. You were done being intimidated. “If you would've just played like you were supposed to, then I wouldn't have had to do your job out there."

"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," Elerin cut in, shooting you a pitiful look that made your face even redder. You were as good as you thought you were, maybe even better. You had spent the entire game scoring the most points and evading bludgers without assistance.

"Maybe you should back the hell off," Keith snapped. His shoulder bumped yours as he stepped forward, a reminder that you had backup from one of your best friends that had also been your only teammate to listen to you. 

You were quickly gaining the attention of the players on the field. One of those players was Lance, who sighed at the realization that resolve wasn’t going to magically appear. He shook his head in disappointment, tearing himself away from his own team, jogging towards the altercation. 

“What? Can’t fight your own battles?” Kaston smirked. “Gotta have the blood-traitor fight them for you?”

You didn’t miss a beat as you stepped into his space. “Want me to show you just how well I can fight my own battles?”

"Woah, woah, woah," Lance attempted to satiate as he approached. Given Keith’s more ‘hot-headed’ tendencies, Lance placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it. All Keith did was shake him off. 

You didn’t even pay attention, refusing to break under the leering look Kaston was ecstatic to give. Clearly he had been waiting for you to snap all year. 

"That so?" Kaston didn’t back down either as he leaned even closer, making sure you didn’t miss the amusement in his eyes as yours were set hard. It was a challenge. 

One you weren’t backing down from.

“Absolutely.”

You willed him to hit you. To lay one single finger on you which would let you punch that arrogant little look off of his pinched face. You didn't start fights, but you’d sure as hell finish this one.

"What's going on?"

"Kaston sucks at quidditch,” Keith chirped to Lance's question, making sure it didn’t fall on deaf ears. 

"Don’t forget that he's also an asshole," you spit back. Something lit up in Kaston’s eyes, something that would've seemed like excitement if it didn’t seem tinged with poison. It seemed as though everything had become more and more tinged with poison each ear. 

"You think you're better?" His friends snickered behind him as he barked out a laugh, his breath tickling your face. "Maybe you're not as good as you think. Maybe you're just a filthy little mudblood."

The word cut through the air. 

Your shock showed in the way your eyes widened a fraction of the inch and your face softened. You weren't the only one, most of the students that had moved closer to watch, seemed stunned at the bold use of the word. 

For six years war had plagued the wizarding world, the same year you began at Hogwarts. The peers that had been sorted the same day you had become more opinionated as they neared adulthood. Their parents' ideologies shaped their offspring's opinions to bring hatred towards muggles into the castle. 

People were getting bolder. It was one thing to hear ‘mudblood’ whispered behind your back, hissed in your ear from someone sitting behind you in class. 

This was… something just seemed to change right then and there. 

Kaston, seemingly satisfied at your reaction, straightened and you could no longer smell his sweat still clinging to his jersey. The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the sounds of the few whispers making it around the players, some of the lingering students in the stands taking note of the scene. 

Everyone would know about what happened within the day. 

Keith recovered first, stepping up so he was standing at your side. Yet again, Lance tried to cool him down with a hand on his shoulder. That was all he did, opting to keep his mouth shut because of his own blood status and not even you could blame him for that. Maybe you would’ve said something if you could have thought of anything to actually say. 

Just one thing, one word to pretend you didn’t feel like the bludger had successfully knocked you from your broom, sending you to land in a heap of crunched bones and flesh. That would’ve been less mortifying. 

Luckily, Coach Weaver shouted from where she was hurrying to break up a fight before it could begin. She had been the keeper for the Holyhead Harpies for years before retiring after a successful career, becoming Hogwarts’s current quidditch coach and professor. 

"Hey! Hey, what's going on here? Kaston and- Oi! Back it up. Both of you!"

Neither of you moved but it didn’t seem to matter when she was pushing both of you away from the other. You bumped into Keith, his hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you. You didn’t forfeit the stare down. 

Alder nudged Kaston who stepped back. The smug smiles on both of their faces were enough to make you wish you had said fuck it and decked him right in the face anyway.

“I’m serious you two, deal with it after you’ve cooled down.” Glancing between you two, it was clear Madam Weaver chalked it up to being a petty fight about a play or a missed goal.

When it was clear that Kaston did not plan on leaving the pitch first, Lance tugged at Keith to move, which in turn, made him tug at you. You stayed rooted to the grass, wanting so badly to stand up for yourself or shove the asshole just so you could relieve some of the pressure of the emotions building in your chest. 

Instead, you begrudgingly let Keith pull you a few steps until your feet worked. You pushed past your friends, letting them hurry behind you towards the locker room. The feel of everyone's staring at the back of your head made your eyes sting with embarrassment. 

Yet again, you were humiliated by the very same people you had just carried to winning this years cup. 

Lance worriedly chewed on his bottom lip, avoiding directly making eye contact with either of you as you put away your things. His elbows rested on his knees in an attempt to keep himself from hanging his head. Everyone knew that it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened again, making him a target. 

"Such bullshit," Keith grunted as he yanked open the door to his locker. He was fuming, body all rigid and tense as he yanked his jersey off. Keith had plenty of his own problems that involved being a Slytherin blood traitor from a family openly in support of The Dark Lord which was why he spent his summers running away from foster homes. 

If you opened your mouth, you might've yelled. You kept it clamped shut and opted to shove you padding and broom away. It was easier to pretend you weren’t absolutely mortified at being called…that in front of everyone. To pretend that you were just pissed at spending the whole match playing a bludger target.

It might have worked too if James Potter wasn’t so... James Potter.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You found solace in the kitchens.

At least, you really truly hoped to. 

Your shower had been quick in an attempt to avoid bumping into any Slytherin girls. Actually, it had been in an attempt to avoid anyone. You’d managed to duck out of the common room, damp hair still soaking into the collar of your sweater, before Keith could intercept you. Of course you loved your friends with your whole heart, but you didn’t feel like pretending not to notice their wary glances checking on you the rest of the night. 

They would understand when you saw them tomorrow at breakfast. 

House elves had proved to be better company; after they dropped a mug of hot chocolate in front of you, they didn’t pay you much mind as they returned to cleaning up dishes from dinner. Eventually, you would have to leave if you wanted to continue to avoid students who came looking for a late night snack. 

You looked like the picture of defeat, ice pack pinched between your cheek and shoulder so you could prop your head in one hand. The other traced the wood of the table and occasionally pressed too harshly into the surface when a flash of Kaston, his smug face and leer, invaded your thoughts.

One more year. All you had to do was finish out the last month of sixth year, spend your summer at home with your family, and then finish out seventh year with your head down. 

James hovered in the doorway, debating whether or not his company would only exacerbate your foul mood. 

Here was the thing, you and James, while not exactly friends, did spend a significant amount of time around each other. 

The sixth year Gryffindor boys dorm was home to Remus, Sirius, Peter, James and Lance, one of your closest friends. Neither you, Lance, nor Keith were very fond of hanging out in the Slytherin common room (for obvious reasons). That made the Gryffindor common room, or sixth year Gryffindor boys dorm room, the frequent hangout spot. 

It was never uncommon for The Marauders to stumble in their room while you and Lance were sprawled on his bed, trying to finish the DADA homework without Keith’s help. The four boys usually came in tripping over themselves, exuding an air of nonchalance and laughing until they were breathless. You didn’t mind their company when they were at least able to keep things entertaining. 

You actually enjoyed Peter’s company when he asked to join you in the company, usually looking so stressed that you couldn’t not help him with his homework. He was good at drawing, doodling little pictures on the corners of his parchment and turning beet red when anyone complimented them. Occasionally you hated the way it seemed that Peter was always tagging along, trying to catch up with the others so he didn’t get left behind. You went out of your way to make him feel included when he was sitting near you in the dining hall even after you realized that he was just as much of a Marauder as the others. 

Remus was dryly funny, making times you were seated next to him for class much more entertaining. He was more reserved at first glance, seemingly more mature and above his friends' pranks when he was constantly instigating things to go one step further. While he was less likely to ask to sit next to you out of nowhere at the library, Remus could remember a comment you had made in passing weeks later and maintained scarily impressive eye contact. Three seconds later, he could also kick James’s chair out from under him at the last second without so much as turning his head. 

You found Sirius’s company less enjoyable but he did have redeemable moments. He was flirty, obnoxious, and a bit invasive, whether that be throwing an over your shoulder out of nowhere to lean his weight on you or take the butterbeer right out of your hand for a sip. There was the time in third year that Alder kept pulling your hair when he passed you in the halls. When Alder took a sip of his pumpkin juice one morning, screaming when his hair would not stop growing, you almost hadn’t noticed Sirius trying to meet your eye from across the room. When you did, he gave you a wink which you returned with a grateful smile, Alder tripping over his hair that dragged on the floor as he ran to the room. 

If James Potter was the sun, no one at Hogwarts could be deemed worthy of a comparison to the moon. 

That was it. James just glowed.

If he ate shit and wiped out, tumbling down an entire flight of stairs, he had the ability to laugh and make an onlooker embarrassed for witnessing it.

That had actually happened in fifth year.

You faltered at the top of the stairs, staring at the way he threw his head back and laughed. His glasses had still been askew on his face where he laid in a heap on the snow covered pavement. You had to blink a few times before scoffing out a laugh. The whole thing had been mesmerizing.

He’d been attempting to convince you to let him and the others into the Slytherin common room later that evening. You’d barely managed to turn him down after witnessing that. 

Normally, the two of you maintained a witty banter that bordered on bickering. Well, a better description would be you bickering with James for being annoying, while he easily turned the conversation into banter with his quick mouth and smooth talking. 

Your head raised at the sound of a chair scraping against the stone floor, watching him warily as he sunk into the seat with a grunt. It was a familiar sight, something he had done frequently when he had no one else to bother. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, I suppose you were right after all about demolishing my team this year.”

You raised an eyebrow which didn’t deter the cool look he wore. With an ease no one else seemed to possess, he shoved back his dark hair, even darker from his own shower and gorgeously messy. While red tended to be his signature collar, he looked stupidly good in navy blue, the sweater loose on his frame while still managing to show off his shoulders and strength. 

He flashed you a cheeky smile that seemed softer than usual, tentative in a way he normally wasn’t. It satiated you enough to relax and not be entirely on guard. 

“Thanks,” you sighed without any excitement. “Demolishing seems like a bit of an over exaggeration. You guys did good too.”

James's gaze softened as he took in the sight of you, the evidence of the game still present on your face in the little bruise on your cheek. You could’ve gone to Madam Pomfrey’s for bruise cream but the pain was a nice distraction for the squeezing feeling that had been occupying your chest since Keith caught the snitch. 

He shrugged, “Maybe… but I don’t think that’s the most pressing issue.” 

You didn’t bother to put any effort into your voice to seem convincing. “What issue? There’s no issue. We won. What could possibly be an issue?” 

You knew that he had seen it, been right there watching a few feet away with everyone else on the pitch. Even if he hadn’t been there, news of Kaston and what he called his own quidditch captain without shame had certainly circulated around the school by now. 

“Come on, I’m not that unaware,” he snorted, a finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Kaston was gunning for you all game. Nearly sent you into the dirt with how he was sending those bludgers your way on purpose.” A conflicted look crossed his face, studying you carefully as he tried to navigate the elephant in the room. “Or what he said after…”

Well.., he certainly had the subtlety of a erumpant. 

“Oh.” You sounded disinterested as you sank lower into your seat. “That issue.”

Of course you had known what he was talking about, you just didn’t want to talk about it. 

James raised a brow at your response, but didn't comment on your reluctance. He waited in silence, his gaze unwavering as you dropped the ice pack onto the table. His eyes raked over your form, taking in the mess of your hair, the slump of your shoulders, the disheartened look in your eyes. 

For once, he couldn't think of a witty jab or sarcastic comment to make.

So he didn't. Instead, he glanced at where he’d watched the bludger connect with your arm during the match. 

"How is your shoulder?"

Instead of answering right away, you just shrugged again, regretting it with a wince. You were certain that there was no break of your collarbone but purple had already begun blotching your skin when you inspected the area during your shower. 

“Normal match injuries I suppose.” After a long moment of quiet, you kind of felt like an ass for being so sullen. “No broken collar bone though.” 

You tried to smile at him for emphasis but gave up quickly when not even you found it to be remotely convincing. Fire crackled in the hearth, licking the cauldron that held the stock for tomorrow’s meal, making the entire room feel like a blanket. James could be much worse company at the moment considering it could have been Sirius- it could have been James and Sirius. 

Merlin, the pair of them together at this very moment would have driven you to serve detention every night for the next month until the school year ended. 

"No broken collar bone," he repeated, eyes brightening in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "You're lucky I'm not Madam Pomfrey, or you'd be spending the night in the infirm.”

Your attempt to hide your amusement was futile when you no longer were inadvertently scowling. You stared at him for as long as you could before smiling somberly. 

“Lance already checked it after the game,” you lied. “Just bruised and sore. Not much to do about it without a broken bone.” 

What had really taken the hit was your ego, splintering under the force of the word Kaston had spit at you. Quidditch had been everything to you the past five years, working your ass off each day to prove that you deserved the spot as captain of the Slytherin team. It wasn’t just about skill, which you clearly had, it was about leading, making plays and executing them; getting others to execute them. 

Each year, younger students replaced the older ones, shifting the ratio of those with mild prejudice regarding blood status with those that were extremists. 

Professor Slughorn had seen your determination and awarded you appropriately at the start of this year, the little pin you got to wear on the front of your jersey feeling like it took all of the weight off your chest. It just didn’t take long for the first practice to be a disaster which continued to snowball each day. 

His eyes found yours, and he gave you a hopeful look. "Well," he said slowly, trying to sound nonchalant, "I guess that means you'll be back out there in no time, ready to beat me once again."

The words made you wince; the idea of repeating your captain's experience is difficult to play off as you look away. 

“Maybe… I don’t know,” you shrugged as dismissively as you could manage given your injury. Your brows pinched together and you opted to fidget with the ice pack to look unbothered. “Maybe quidditch isn’t as for me as I’d thought.”

James nearly fell out of his chair with how quickly he sat up straighter. You stood, ignoring his usual flair for dramatics when his mouth hung open. A house elf appeared in your path, holding out their hand to collect the warming ice pak and scurrying away as you thanked them. 

"No way!" He exclaimed, unable to hide his shock and indignation at the idea of you no longer on the field. His hands braced the surface of the stable as he pushed himself from his chair, earning an eye roll from you.

“Might be good to just focus on classes next year, figure out life after Hogwarts.”

James’s narrowed eyes followed you when you collected your mug and brought it towards the sink. Something seemed to be working in your favor because no one stopped you, allowing you something to multitask with. 

He just followed, "Seriously? You don't mean that.”

“How do you know that I don’t?”

His eyes darkened, “Is this because of Kaston?”

“No,” you shot back, scowling as you dumped the drink out, letting the remnant of chocolate that hadn’t quite dissolved slowly drip out. Looking at that was a lot easier than looking at him directly. A part of you was certain that the lie was obvious on your face and you opted to keep your back to him. 

“It’s not just about him.”

His expression softened, matching the new defeated tone of your voice. 

All of Hogwarts loved James Potter,  most of all his Gryffindor house and his adoring team.. Not only did they listen to him as their captain, but they wanted to be victorious together rather than simply win.

It wasn’t fair. There was nothing fair about any of it. You didn’t mean to resent him but it was inevitable anyways. His obnoxious pranks, obnoxious friends, and obnoxious personality still made him loved; not even you could truly hate him when he was so stupidly bright like the sun. 

You were probably nicer, certainly much less distracting but anyone who saw the green tie was still wary after six years of classes together. So maybe you were destined to not fit in anywhere here, neither in your house or out of your house, but rather in the space you and your two friends had made. 

Maybe you had come to terms with the fact that your spot as captain had been injudicious on Slughorn's part.

He approached you slowly, well aware of his chronic habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

"Well, who cares what they think?” He urged with confidence that came as naturally as breathing. "You shouldn't care what they think of you. What does it matter if they don't like you? You're good at what you do. You've done well, you've won a lot, and you've led the team. Why give that up over something petty like what they think of you?”

You didn’t respond, facing forward and setting the mug into the sink. His optimism was tangible, nearly suffocating. You gripped the edge of the counter in frustration. 

“Who cares what your team thinks of you when you’re the one leading them to the win?”

“I care, okay? I care what they think of me!”

The admission snapped out before you could stop it, whipping around with a throw of your hands in the air. You press your lips tightly together to keep you from speaking anymore deep, dark insecurities into the heated air of the kitchen. 

James seemed caught off guard, his conviction faltering enough that he isn’t quite sure what to say. His empathetic look started to feel more like pity, making the pressure in your chest grow sharp shards that were difficult to swallow around. 

You shook your head and scuffed the toe of you shoe on the stone. “No one listens to me. No one gives me credit for the wins but they make sure it’s clear that that it’s entirely my fault if we lose. I spent half of today’s match dodging bludgers because my own teammate was trying to send me plummeting fifty feet into the ground.”

Hearing it out loud hurts more than you thought it would.

Being angry was better than being fearful, something that you were more and more each year. The war raged on, muggleborns and their families vanished, and opinions were more vocalized in the walls of Hogwarts. Chalking the whole thing up to Kaston just being an asshole rather than an asshole with a powerful family with strong ideologies about blood purity and the ability to do something about it, that was easier to stomach. 

For a moment, you leaned back against the counter, picking at the edge and letting your confession hang there. He watched you carefully, eyes wide and concerned beneath the frames of his glasses. He wanted to get it, to under stand; he really did but, how is a boy that grew up a Potter supposed to understand anything of what it means not to have everything. 

Without the egregious inheritance he sat on, privilege was in his blood. 

Both literally and metaphorically. 

Adrenaline and privilege pumped through his veins each time he played a prank on someone like Snape. It was as vital to who he was as magic or his last name, acting like a shield that kept anyone revenge on the mild side. If you or Lance would have played a prank like James and his friends then it would be your names in the paper, followed by the names of your family members and the word missing. 

James got to keep his head held high because he didn’t have to continuously look over his shoulder. 

Hesitantly, he stepped closer, ducking his head in a desperate attempt to catch your eye. “I… I didn’t know it was that bad.”

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to scoff or roll your eyes. If you tried, you knew the sound would crack on the way out of your mouth just at the feel of your eyes burning. So instead you just shrugged so you could have a moment to collect yourself. 

Crying in front of James Potter? You would never live that down. 

“It’s just the way things are right now.” The way things were sucked. As you ran a hand down your face, your thumb brushed against the  bruise on your cheek and reminded you all over again about how shitty of a day you’d had. 

James had never been particularly good with words in these kinds of situations, so he went with his next best idea.

In hopes to console you, he stepped forward again, ignoring how you stiffened when his arms wrapped around you.

There was a timidness in the way his head settled on yours, his muscles all stiff as he held his breath. Your first instinct would have been to shove him off if you weren’t so gob smacked. 

You opened your mouth to scoff, fingers twitching at your sides to shove him off because this was so weird, but you couldn’t seem to do either. Maybe that was why you’d truly been avoiding Keith and Lance the past few hours. That the feeling cracking around in your chest has become so convoluted so you could pretend it was not the urge to cry.

And you knew that you really couldn’t control it as you gripped the bottom on his sweater. Your face pressed into the fabric of his sweater, the softness of the material a subtle reminder that it likely cost a ridiculous amount even as your tears soaked in. 

As you leaned into his embrace, James felt a wave of surprise wash over him. He relaxed first, the tension slipping as he readjusted his hold on you. Part of you expected him to crack a joke but you were glad that he didn’t because you didn’t think you’d manage to make yourself laugh. Your shoulders didn’t heave, you didn’t let out loud sobs against his chest or collapse in his arms because you didn't quite have that in you.

This was just... a moment of succumbing to the weight of everything that had been occurring since you received your Hogwarts acceptance letter in the mail years ago.  

The two of you stayed like that.

Time passed as house elves paid you little to no attention, moving around you to continue prepping meals for tomorrow and clean the kitchens for the day. If you had told yourself that golden boy James Potter would ever be the one to comfort you, you would have laughed so hard butterbeer could have come out your nose. 

It wasn’t so bad in the moment, working the tangle of emotions out of you and releasing some of the pressure. All you knew was that you felt a little better. Not great, but it was something. You wished you could’ve placed why a silly hug from a boy that you barely considered a friend did the trick. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, the sound watery in your throat as you pulled away first, using the sleeve of your sweater to swipe at your eyes. You hoped that you could dismiss the moment as his hands seemed to hesitate between falling to his sides. Smoothing your hair, you hoped it made you look more put together; or maybe your fingers just itched for anything to do. 

“Sorry. Normally I’m…”

‘More collected? Too clever to be crying to a pretty boy in the kitchens? A bit more off putting to others?’

You settled on, “Thanks, I, uh… appreciate it, Potter.”

A faint smile appeared with the relief that you at least seemed a bit better, making him brighten with pride at what he had managed to accomplish. 

“Yeah, yeah,” James teased, “you’re a real badass that never cries.” 

James managed to convince you to leave the kitchens eventually. The afternoon had trickled away to evening while you’d been hiding, darkness pressing against the glass of the windows. Straggles filled the halls, most students already beginning their Saturday evening plans. Some would be attending the celebratory party in the Slytherin common room or opting to drink in the Ravenclaw dorms instead. 

At least you knew the mood in the Gryffindor common room would align with your own, wallowing in their loss of this year's cup and you wallowing in your own self pity. 

“You nearly took my head off with the quaffle-”

“Oh please, I absolutely did not.”

“-did a corkscrew and just whipped it at the goal, didn’t even care if you killed me. There would be hell to pay.”

“Such a drama queen.”

James placed a hand to his chest, mouth hanging open comically in offense. “There would be an uprising. I am Hogwarts’s sweetheart, you know that right?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled to yourself as you kept instep with him. He seemed oblivious to the occasional glances sent your way, thankfully not malicious but  just as embarrassing at the reminder that clearly news had spread quickly. You’d be getting curious looks for the next few days until the buzz died down. 

“You, James Potter, are something alright.”

story page here

[the-music-maniac]

Zoro has rapidly become my favourite character in One Piece and so I felt the need to write this after seeing one too many people misinterpret him as this alpha male type of dude purely because he's muscular and likes fighting. Don't do my boi like that, I actually think Zoro is a very good example of non toxic masculinity, and I will fight people over it. I've seen someone call Zoro a red flag. I will find you.

I've seen this happen quite often when it comes to characters with certain body types and defining traits, especially in shows with large followings like one piece, where people just tend to equate muscular + likes to fight + likes to drink to a certain archetype of personality without looking at the nuance? In reality, Zoro is a very likeable guy in my opinion (once you get over how terrifying he can be as an opponent).

Disclaimer: I haven't finished the entire show so feel free to write any rebuttals if you think I got anything wrong! Fandom debates can be quite fun.

I also mention Sanzo/Zosan very briefly so feel free to skip over that part if you're not into that ship.

The biggest thing I think people tend to forget is that Zoro is kind. And this one I don't understand how anyone can forget, because it's like an integral part of his character. Sure, his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman is not a path that's without bloodshed. He's not kind in an all encompassing, indiscriminate way, he's kind in a practical way, especially in the world he lives in with the type of life he leads. He doesn't have qualms about killing when necessary. But the motivation behind those actions are never cruel. He wants to be the greatest swordsman, but he's not amassing that skill because he wants power. He's doing it for love of that weapons style and for the childhood dream both Kuina and him had. Does he like fighting? Yeah, but I'm pretty certain it's purely for the competition of skill. And Zoro shows his kindness with how willing he is to help those who need it, in that he usually doesn't use his strength to take what he wants/hurt others but to protect. Even when he was a bounty hunter and earned his moniker of Demon of the East, he was just trying to survive. I'm not sure how people forget that he's a kind person when our initial introduction to Zoro was him agreeing to get tied to a post for a month without food or water to save a little girl and her mother. He's kind in the little ways as well, in that mundane everyday living type of manner, not just in the big, heroic "risk your life" type of way, which I think is important to acknowledge. He didn't have to tell that girl that her food was good. And Zoro is pretty damn good with children - we see that with Chopper, and we see that with that filler episode with Zoro babysitting and - I think there are some more examples but I can't recall them right now. That's a very big green flag in my opinion. The little gestures can matter as much as the big ones. As far as I'm concerned, those traits couldn't be further from the "alpha male" stereotype.

I've also seen people characterize Zoro as just a cool, quiet, man-of-few-words type of guy, and sure, I can see how he would give that impression if all you saw of him was random edits of when he gets serious but honestly, the man is pretty fucking sassy. He's also just - SUCH a 19 year old with all the antics he gets up to with the rest of the crew, and I'm aware he gets much more serious after the timeskip (I haven't gotten to that point yet in terms of watching but I don't care about spoilers so I know the reason behind it), but like. I don't think he lost his snark from some clips I've seen. Zoro is funny, and I think people ignore that too often for the cool guy type of characterization. Not that he isn't cool - Zoro has his moments but that's not all he is. The man gets lost running in a straight line???? He once almost got frozen in wax and decided his priority was to ensure he died in a cool pose. That type of willingness to be silly is not something you find in a stereotypical alpha male type of personality. Like, who are you kidding, he's lame af, unashamed of it, and it's fabulous.

Another thing, granted this is not a common opinion by any means, but on one instance I've seen someone act as if Zoro's some lady killer or some shit and I actually had to pause and stare at my screen in disbelief. Could I see women being attracted to Zoro? Yeah sure, I mean the one example I can think of right now is Hiyori (another example may or may not be me. But then again you knew that didn't you, considering this post is just one giant love letter to Zoro). But does Zoro purposely try to attract women? Uh no? I don't even think the man is straight. He's either aromantic/asexual (very ace of him to not give a shit about romance but leap up in two seconds upon hearing the word "sword") or just gay, cause he exhibits very little interest in romance, or very little indication that he finds women attractive. And I pinpointed attraction to women specifically just cause people tend to assume Zoro is heterosexual and have the audacity to get mad at you if you try to imply otherwise. Which to me is clearly heteronormativity speaking because where. Where is he straight, I don't see it. And sure is there a possibility he may be heterosexual and just unwilling to act on attraction because he has a different goal in life? Yeah sure, but you can't act like that's the only valid interpretation for him. But regardless, no matter what sexuality you headcanon him as, he's still very very far from "manly man with ladies swooning left and right into his muscular arms" type character. I mean if someone swooned into him I'm pretty sure he would catch them on principle without registering any romantic connotations whatsoever. (Note that these opinions do not stop me from being a Sanzo/Zosan shipper, but that's more because I find the concept entertaining. An argument could also be made that Zoro does pay the most attention to Sanji, even if it's to fight him). So yeah, another strike against the whole alpha male type of characterization. Zoro doesn't really give a shit about romance and even if he DID, I am convinced he still wouldn't treat a potential romantic partner as anything but an equal, doesn't matter if that s/o is a man, woman or non binary. And this segways into my next point.

Because Zoro has some very refreshing attitudes about gender, both his own and of other people. This doesn't just tie in with the sexuality/romantic partner thing, it ties into the willingness to be authentic/silly thing, and the "likes to compare skills through fighting" thing. I very much think that Zoro just doesn't really register gender roles much, or he does and he just doesn't care about it. And I'm aware this partially stems from a position of privilege he has as a guy - he doesn't need to care about gender roles and how people view him because he's a man. He wouldn't be short changed for anything if he doesn't notice. While the same luxury is not extended to individuals like Kuina and Tashigi, who were in a field of practice that looks down on them purely for being women. Having said that, Zoro literally just doesn't give a shit who he's dealing with, man, woman or any other gender. If you challenge him, he'll fight you. And the level of effort he gives that fight is usually dependent on ability and the situation. If you annoy him, he'll annoy you back. He has no qualms about snarking and yelling at Nami the same as he would with a male member of the crew. People in the past that have pointed out to him the difference in the way the rest of the world perceives men and women - like with Kuina and Tashigi for example - is met with confusion. And again, this is partially because Zoro has the privilege of not noticing, but honestly even if he did notice, I don't think his personal actions would change. And I find that refreshing. I love Sanji as a character, don't get me wrong, but his whole refuses to fight women schtick is something that annoys me (even if I do headcanon that it partially comes from a place of trauma). And moreover, Zoro gives me the impression of a person that doesn't give a shit if his own masculinity is "compromised", going by the stereotypical definition of the phrase. He does shit cause he feels like it, not cause it's the "manly" thing to do. Yeah, he happens to like drinking, working out - things that are considered traditionally masculine, but I get the sense that if he did have hobbies that were not traditionally masculine, he would just go ahead and do them regardless of what people think of him. His antics pre-timeskip wasn't exactly the epitome of manliness, it was silly and goofy and he has no qualms about it cause it was authentically him. And he wouldn't feel threatened if he were to do anything not in keeping with a "manly" image, even if he wouldn't do any of that of his own volition. Like the babysitting filler episode? The man was in a crop top that said "mama" on the front. I fully believe that if he lost a bet to Nami and had to wear a dress or some other traditionally feminine piece of clothing, or if for some convoluted reason Luffy ordered him to put on a disguise like that for some mission or whatever, Zoro wouldn't give a shit as long as it was comfortable and didn't obstruct his ability to fight. If someone made fun of him for it, he would probably bite back depending on how insulting the person is trying to be, cause not caring about wearing non masculine clothing doesn't mean he would be okay with someone looking down on him, but he wouldn't automatically equate the two to each other without that interference, and that association wouldn't be permanent. Would he choose to wear a dress on his own? Probably not. He does still have clothing preferences and they tend to be simple, practical and comfortable, and with certain clothing pieces, in keeping with his culture. Would he fly into an insecure rage about not being a girl? I don't think so. And that's so far in attitude from the whole alpha male thing that it's not even funny. The whole concept of an identity centered around being an alpha male reeks of insecurity, and Zoro is very secure in who he is as a person.

And this is also why I think Zoro would act differently in a romance than how "alpha males" would act, even if it's with a woman (I still don't think Zoro is straight btw, but just for conjecture). For one he respects people based on ability and if not that, determination and heart, so right off the bat he's not gonna treat his partner as lesser than him by virtue of being a woman. And I've noticed that a lot of heterosexual couples (not all, mind you, but a lot) seem to care more about dating a gender role than dating an actual person. By that, I mean individuals who pride themselves on being a model of masculinity however they define it - usually look for a partner to compliment them in that regard. I find this counterproductive, because your partner is not meant to be a tool/accessory to maintain your image, and also because being the perfect man or woman is too narrow of a definition, and it doesn't exactly leave you a lot of room to live comfortably as a human - with all your fallible moments that don't fit comfortably in little boxes. It's impractical and illogical. If you value maintaining the status quo and assigning responsibilities and roles based on arbitrary rules assigned by society instead of ability, if you care about that more than you care about helping your partner and maintaining a functional life, I don't think y'all are gonna last long. That's just my two cents. But for the reasons listed before, Zoro barely even registers gender roles, and he's a pretty "get shit done" type of person. He's not gonna give a shit. He'll do what he's able to do for the relationship, and he wouldn't feel insecure when his partner does the same, even if it doesn't fit into traditional roles. And considering Zoro's love of sparring/fighting I don't think he would get with a partner that isn't able to give him a run for his money anyways. Another thing that sets him apart from the alpha male stereotype, those guys are terrified of anyone challenging them for their position of "authority", however dubious that position is (and however stupid it is to care about notions of dominance for a relationship. Have y'all seen those interview videos with guys who actually believe that? "I can't date a girl that bench presses more than me cause that means she becomes the dominant figure in the relationship" excuse me what.)

This post is getting overly long so I'm going to end it there. Thanks for reading!

[cybertron-after-dark]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, here's how I think the tfa Decepticons would handle a Human Error incident (suddenly turned human with zero logical explanation)

-Megatron ain't doing great. God dammit he's fucking TINY. Just when he's gotten his body back after god knows how long of being a severed head on the floor, he's vulnerable AGAIN. He's still up and functional, doing whatever needs to be done and not letting his present weakness interfere with his goals, but he's in full on paranoia mode. He trusts nobody and he's not going outside if he doesn't have to. Too many things that could go terribly wrong while he's a pathetic creature of flesh with no fucking armor plating and no rotors to fly with. Doesn't give a fuck about trying anything he could only do as a human, he's too busy trying not to die. He'll only eat the nightmare that is organic food if he's in a human body long enough to nearly starve. He'll never admit that it actually tastes better than energon. His pride would never allow it.

-Starscream is miserable and will LOUDLY bitch to everyone present whether they care or not. Unlike Megs, however, it's less in a "I have no armor plating, anything could crush me" way and more in a "EW EW EW WHY IM I SQUISHY GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF OH PRIMUS IM HIDEOUS" way. He's grabbing the nearest paper bag and putting it over his head. He's not risking ANYONE taking pictures of this little incident to blackmail him. He's especially angry that he can't fly. What do you mean he has to walk everywhere like some kind of monoformer??? What the fuck??? He'd normally try to off Megatron while he's vulnerable, but slag that, he's vulnerable too, and he doesn't even have his null rays to slag him with anyway. Convinced human food is going to be disgusting, pleasantly surprised when it's not. Gets a little obsessed with garlic bread, but we've all been there.

-Blitzwing has lost not one altmode, but two, and given how reflexive his transformation is, he's going a bit stir crazy. Doesn't help that he's lost his wings either. To try and cope, he's got the zoomies something awful, and tries running around the mountain base, jumping off whatever high surfaces he thinks won't kill him for a taste of altitude again, laughing his ass off as Random when he hits the bottom (very uncomfortable for him that he only has one face, too). However, in spite of his physical discomfort, and how generally overwhelming the situation is, he is at least a little excited that he can partake in human culture without consequences. He gets swept up in an arcade for a couple hours and has the time of his life, and tries as much earth food as he can. He's generally the only reason his teammates haven't starved yet because he's the only one willing to go out and get it. He has decided he really likes pizza, beer and chocolate. Genuinely a little sad he won't be able to eat it in his normal form.

-Lugnut is a bit disappointed that he's been given such an unworthy form incapable of serving his liege. How can he aid the GLORY of Megatron and the Decepticon cause when he is so small, so weak, so... Organic? But, he picks himself up and vows to do everything in his power to remain useful. And that starts with testing his limits to see how much use he can be. When he sees Blitzwing jumping off cliffs, he's certain his comrade's had the same idea and joins in, determined to find the threshold for his new body's pain tolerance. It is not as high as he would like. He can't really see as well now that he has one eye instead of his usual five, so he kinda keeps falling off high places anyway even after he's done doing it intentionally. Eventually tries organic food because he needs to fuel up to be of any use, but still loudly condemns it as inferior to energon. He kinda gets a kick out of knowing it's made from organic beings, though. He feels like he's turning some of the life on this useless planet towards a good cause by using its energy.

-Shockwave was already having a really weird day, falling through the space bridge and ending up on earth of all places. But as nice as it was to eschew his cover for a bit and catch up with his true comrades, it was kind of undercut by being suddenly even tinier than his usual disguise and significantly less durable. Not too fond of losing his extendable reach, either. Though he may not be too thrilled, he's still determined to make himself useful. More useful than the two idiots launching themselves off a cliff, anyway. He does a bit of research into basic self care and how to not die in general, as well as trying to figure out what did this to them and how to reverse it. Not opposed to trying earth food, he admits he's curious, if a bit intimidated by how varied it is. Learns he's got a bit of a sweet tooth, ends up mildly addicted to baked goods. Especially cheesecake. Once this whole humanity business is over, he starts a small side project on an internal filter that makes some organic matter edible just so he can keep eating it.

-Nobody takes their newfound humanity worse than Blackarachnia. She already hated being partially organic, but now the detestable, disgusting side of her makes up 100% of her frame. It feels like the final nail in the coffin. She's completely shut down, she just can't take what she's become, unsure whether this nightmare will ever end. She's not holding out on Shockwave being able to fix the issue. It never got magically resolved the first time it happened, why would it now? Her only cold comfort is the other cons have to suffer with her. She's not eating human food. If she starves, she starves, but she's not stooping to that level. She didn't before, and she sure as hell won't now.

[tai-janai]

ok continuation of the protector au

most of the voices can no longer see any good in the princess, because the Protector (reminder that he's the Hero) already planted in our brain that she truly cannot be trusted.

The princess, whether you take the blade or not, does plan to end the world.

"The world put me down here. If you help me out, you will be spared when I do end it."

and your choice comes there.

The Voices all keep the same core aspects, but have different goals or motivations. The Arms represent the ways the Princess has left her effect on You. With almost all of them, instead of sending the vessel to the shifting mound like they usually do, they completely want to kill her.

The Paranoid becomes Repulsed by what the Princess becomes, afraid in a way he wasn't in the source material. He is more willing to attack her, but less confident in it. The Protector has to encourage him to help the body kill her.

The Cold becomes the Aloof, one of the least trusting of the Narrator because he still doesn't like the "reward" they are given, but the Protector doesn't hate that we ended ourself, so he is less standoffish towards the others because he isnt judged for how he feels. After all, it is a defense mechanism, and the Protector can recognize that.

The Stubborn becomes Enraged because the princess defeated him along with her. (She still says 'this was fun' but in a much more sinister way) He wants to kill her, but he plants the thought in our head that she can only be defeated if we die. His doubt affects reality. the Protector initially supports his enthusiasm, but becomes hopeless when he realizes that it is all in vain.

The Opportunist becomes the Plotting; cruel and twisted. He takes the Protector's words and twists them how he sees fit, wanting the princess to suffer as much as possible by befriending her before backstabbing her. The Protector is kind of afraid of this one. He may want the princess dead, but he doesn't wish harm upon anyone.

The Contrarian becomes the Errant, and wishes for something different. You know its fucked up when the Contrarian equivalent becomes the voice of reason. Unfortunately, the Protector isn't a big fan of this option until the Errant does show up and shows a way out that seems the most safe.

Unfortunately for the Skeptic, nobody here is willing to give him any answers. The Narrator has his Rules and the Protector knows what happens when the Long Quiet becomes aware of the situation. Most voices accept this, but the Skeptic becomes Vexed. He actually becomes similar to the Cheated, where he believes he deserves what everyone else has, but has no way of getting it.

The Broken doesn't change much. he will still fawn over the princess, believing her to be much more powerful than anything, and completely inevitable. He just doesn't want to be a part of it once it is gone; but that isn't an option for the princess. she needs the long quiet to reach her full potential. She wont show "mercy" to the Dismal.

The Smitten becomes fully blind to the Princess' blaring red flags, committing himself to her fully as long as she shows any sort of returned affections. In the Damsel route, i think id have an end where you ask her too many questions, and she attacks you, but the Hapless is blind to her danger, and lets her. She is only getting close enough so that you let her use you to enact her plans.

The Hunted becomes less of prey than he had been, enacting purely on instinct so that she cannot win against him continuously. From hunted to Ferine, he will keep the body moving and standing. The Protector is also kind of afraid of him and his determination. I think, in this Beast route, there would actually be a branch where you can defeat her.

Last but not least, the Cheated becoming the Steadfast. He becomes the closest to the original Hero, urging us to improve ourself, though his extent is unhealthy. Like before, he just wants one of the worlds to be safe. At some point, he has to beat the princess. The Protector tells him that they're doing more harm than good... but it isn't a win, so it isnt enough. Not until the Protector cuts them all off.

[angelic-writer]

Running Through Your Veins (Cut Down the Altar)

Isaac is faced with the possible death of Joshua. Has their luck run out?

CW: Torture, poisoning, cardiac arrest, broken bones, panic attacks, nightmares

Prompt by @serickswrites and @artisticdemon

Story by @missr3n3

It all started with a letter. Leah and Madeline have come back to the whole apartment being ransacked. It was like when Cairyx had kidnapped Joshua, but this time, both him and Isaac were gone. After frantically searching for the two boys, Madeline found a note on the bed beside the plush rabbit she got him. What she read made her blood run cold.

"Thank you so much for making my job easier. Because of your video, I was able to track down and take the nameless devil and your friend. I'm willing to let them go if you follow my demands. Give me all the information you have about the devils and I'll let them live. Do not send help."

It was a mistake. It was a mistake letting Joshua reveal his identity. They should've known that people would hunt him down. There were a group of people that had been making the rounds recently, calling themselves Devil Hunters. Their goal was to exterminate all the devils that had been invading the world.

From the moment Joshua uploaded that video, his fate was sealed.

Isaac struggled against the cuffs and chains keeping him attached to the wall ring in the corner. He had to get out. Had to get to Joshua.

Joshua stood in the standing cuffs, his body stretched taut as his arms were pulled tight high above his head. His faded, brown hair was slightly covering his eyes, his horns out at full display. He stood at attention, desperately trying to keep his feet on the ground lest he put too much weight on his shoulders. He was trying hard to put on a brave face, gritting his teeth, letting his fangs show. However, Isaac could tell that he was scared. By the way his body was quaking, he couldn't deny that fact.

For him, he was back at the Nightmare Sand Pit, being tortured into nearly giving up his identity. He won't let it happen to Joshua. Not again.

"Well, well, well." One of the devil hunters said with great flourish. "This is a moment I have been so longing for."

He was a tall man with long, black hair tied into a ponytail. He had a sinister look to him with the way he smiled to the way he looked at the two boys with his bright, green eyes. He called himself Sebastian Bachman or Seb as his hunter colleagues would call him.

"What do you want now?" Joshua snarled.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. That's no way to speak to a stranger now, is it?"

"Fuck you." Isaac growled as he glared at Sebastian.

The devil hunter gave a sideways glance at the dark skinned man. "I have no interest in that. No, the only interest I have is your pain, Izzy."

"What pain? You haven't really done anything to us. You think your faux tough guy look is gonna scare us? Please, the only thing you'll do is bore me to death."

"Joshua, shut up!" Isaac hissed.

"Oh, is that what you think? Well, I'm not like those puny demons. Besides, I know all about your little excursion to the Nightmare Sand Pit. How you nearly let yourself go. I cannot imagine the pain you're going through. Well," He grabbed Joshua's chin. "I'm here to make you feel better."

Joshua spat in Sebastian's face. "Get away from me, you creep."

Sebastian wiped his face, glaring at the Cael devil.

"You better not hurt him or I swear to God, I will make your life hell!" Isaac shouted as he struggled against his restraints.

"Aww, you're such a killjoy." He unfastened the whip on his belt. "You really don't understand, do you? These devils killed people. It killed that poor girl's sister, that innocent police officer - It even tried to kill you. Where did you think those scars of yours came from?"

Isaac gritted his teeth.

"The point is, the devils are a threat to humanity and the only way everyone can be safe is when we kill all of them."

"But why kidnap Joshua? He's a Cael devil! The most docile out of all of them! He's not gonna hurt any of you! Didn't you listen to the broadcast?!"

"The public will say anything to not make everyone panic. You never know what those things are capable of. I'm surprised your friend hasn't killed you yet, although it's only a matter of time before he does." He pulled his knife out. "I'm doing you a favor."

Sebastian grabbed Joshua's clothes and cut them with his knife, stripping him to his bare chest. Joshua flinched and tried to kick him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You're disgusting!"

Seb didn't say anything. He only smirked. "I'll be rid of you soon, Nameless."

And so the torture began. Isaac could only watch and scream as Sebastian whipped Joshua, tearing open his skin, creating new scars that had already been healed. His screams and cries were in tune with Isaac's, creating a chorus of anguish. However, Sebastian kept on smiling, his mouth contorting into a crescent moon.

Brackish blood splattered all over the stone floor as Joshua continued to scream. If he could, he would break out of his chains and tear him to shreds, but he was too weak. He couldn't break out if he wanted to. Isaac tried to pull himself free, but the cuffs were worn tightly around his wrists. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't free himself.

A few hours later (How much time had passed? Isaac didn't know.), Joshua had become a bloodied mess once more. He was panting, even coughing a few times, but he still held his ferocious glare.

"Hm. You're a tough nut to crack. I'll admit, I expected you to be a bit more submissive. Well, you won't be looking at me with those eyes for very long." He pulled something out of his pocket. Isaac's eyes widened when he saw that it was a needle.

"What are you doing with that?! You already said you were interested in my pain, right?! Well, string me up! Let Joshua go! You can hurt me here! I'm already restrained!" He screamed.

"Why? You're an innocent civilian, Izzy. That would go against my code. We can't hurt humans. Besides, it's way too boring. Where's the fun in that? Why put my hands on you when I can do this to the one thing threatening humanity?" Sebastian plunged the needle into Joshua's bicep. "Now, I wonder what this will do to you disgusting creatures."

"NOOOOOO!!" Isaac roared, straining to the ends of his chains. His wrists threatened to pop out of its sockets, making him bite his tongue in pain.

Joshua hissed through his teeth as Seb depressed the needle. "Jesus shit fuck damn..."

"What did you give him?!" Isaac growled. Once he gets free, he was going to end this fucker's life.

"Digitalis. Sometimes it makes your heart beat too fast. Sometimes too slow. You never know until you try it. Let's see how you do with this small dose, Nameless." Sebastian walked away, slamming the door behind him.

Isaac's mind was racing. Digitalis. He remembered the effects it had on the human body from the very few times he paid attention in health class. It was like Sebastian said. It could cause arrhythmias in the heart, sometimes fatal ones. He had no idea what this drug could do to Cael devils like Joshua, but since he had regeneration, there was nothing to worry about, right?

Joshua began to droop, his feet slipping on the ground. "I... don't... feel so..... good.... Izzy...." He mumbled as he scrambled to keep his feet on the ground.

"Talk to me, Joshua. Tell me what's wrong. You're okay. You're going to be okay. I'm going to get us out of here."

"Mmmmm...." Joshua hummed as his eyes drooped closed. He struggled to stay awake, but he was so tired. And it felt like he couldn't get a good enough breath. His heart beat incredibly slow in his chest, the reduced blood flow to his brain making him light headed.

Isaac tried to keep him awake, telling him stories about their time as kids. How they would listen to rock albums and the different drugs they would try out. He saw him crack a smile a few times so he could tell that it was working.

Sebastian returned hours later. Joshua had mostly normalized, his heart beating closer to its regular speed. Isaac had kept him awake and talking, kept him awake through the fatigue, through the nausea, through everything.

"How was that? Did you relax a little, Nameless? Hmmmmm?" The hunter said as he pulled out another needle. "Maybe a bit more is what you need."

And before Isaac could scream in protest, Seb had injected Joshua once more. This continued for hours - days? - and Isaac was powerless. He could do nothing but watch. He couldn't do anything but talk Joshua through.

Sometimes, Joshua's heart pounded, his limbs shaking and sweating as he hyperventilated, unable to calm himself. Other times, he slumped over, losing his footing and crying out in pain as his heartbeat slowed.

And still, Isaac was powerless to do anything. He couldn't slip the cuffs. Couldn't hold Joshua up. Couldn't release him. Couldn't escape. Couldn't do anything except sit there and talk to him and pray that it would all stop.

He wished for Jessie to come through the door right this second. She was there for Joshua in his darkest moment. Surely, she would come for them this time, right?

"Inject me!" Isaac begged when Sebastian returned. "I'll let your poison run through my veins! Hurt me! Hurt me!!"

Sebastian only gave him a cruel smile. "Oh, but I am." He injected Joshua once more. "This will hurt the most, Isaac. I couldn't think of a better way to punish you. You make friends with dangerous creatures, you pay the price."

"You..." Joshua wheezed. "When I get out, I will end you..."

The hunter cupped Joshua's cheek briefly. "It will be over soon. For you, at least." He chuckled as he left the room.

"Joshua, talk to me. I'm here. Tell me what's going on."

"C-C-Can't. F-F-Fast." Joshua panted.

"Breathe. Just breathe." Isaac urged, trying not to let the concern creep into his voice. Joshua reacted faster this time compared to the other times. How much had Sebastian given him?

"H-H-Hurts...." Joshua gasped as his feet began to slip once more.

"It's okay. You're okay. You're going to be okay. Just stand up. I'll find a way out. Just hold on, Joshua. Hold on."

"Hhhhhnnnn.... Fwaaaaaaah...." Joshua huffed as he threw his head back. He took several gasping breaths of air, shifting his feet, trying desperately to keep upright. All the while, his heart continued to fumble in his chest, his body trying to counteract the high amounts of the poison.

Isaac could see Joshua's shoulders pull tight as he struggled to stay upright. "It's okay, Joshua. You'll be okay. You can do this. I'll get out of these cuffs, I swear! Just hold on for me! Please!"

With a loud gasp, Joshua dropped his head forward, eyes unfocused. His heart had entered a dangerous rhythm now. The stress and the poison was all too much for the Cael devil. His regeneration wasn't fast enough.

"Look at me, Joshua." Isaac urged. "I'm right here. Look at me! You're going to be okay! I'm going to get us out of here, I promise!"

Joshua slowly, painfully slow, turned his gaze to Isaac. His eyes were hazy and beginning to glaze over. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Nonetheless, it formed the words "I'm sorry."

"No, Joshua, stay. You have to stay, please!!" Isaac cried out as he watched Joshua sigh. He went limp in his chains, his head lulling forward, arms pulled tight above his head. His body swung on the chain slowly as his feet slipped out from under him.

"JOSHUA! JOSHUA, SAY SOMETHING! JOSHUA!! NO!! GOD, NO!! PLEASE!! JOSHUA!!!" Isaac screamed as tears ran down his face. He ducked low, praying that he was wrong. That Joshua was merely unconscious.

But as he stared into Joshua's half-lidded gaze and waited for his lungs to fill once more, Isaac's own heart seized in his chest. Because Joshua was still. So impossibly still as he swung. His chest was unmoving. The only movement within him was his heart quivering uselessly in his chest with nothing around him to restart it.

"NOOOO!! NOOOOO!!" Isaac screamed when he realized what had happened. "PLEASE GOD PLEASE!!"

"Music to my ears." Sebastian said as he entered once more. "Your pitiful, mewling cries of misery, Isaac. What a delight."

He stopped as he was even with Joshua. The hunter took the limp devil's chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifted. His lifeless eyes stared into nothing as Sebastian inspected his head.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!!" Isaac screamed as he lunged forward, the cuffs pulling tight against his wrists, threatening to pop.

"What? It's not like it's not gonna hurt him anymore, Isaac. The nameless devil is dead. Just look!" Sebastian shoved Joshua so he swung out towards Isaac. His head lulled on his limp neck, arms pulled tight above his head. "This is your lesson. To not make friends with creatures beyond human comprehension. You should've left him in that house. You should've kept your mind intact that night."

Isaac shut his eyes tightly, unable to bear the sight of Joshua's body swinging on the chain. "Please don't touch him..."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You still don't understand, do you?"

He stopped Joshua's body from swinging further. He stared at his limp hands for a moment before unhooking the chain quickly. Joshua dropped in a heap on the floor.

"What are you going to do to him...?" Isaac sobbed as he stared at his friend.

"Me? Absolutely nothing." Sebastian said as he pulled the chain between the shackles on Joshua's wrists. "I'm going to do nothing except leave him right here." He dragged him closer to Isaac. Just out of reach.

Sebastian kicked Joshua until his body rolled on its side so that Isaac can look directly into his eyes. He sobbed harder as he stared into the empty eyes of his best friend. The person he swore to protect. The person he failed to save.

"I want you to look. Look at him for what he truly is. A disgusting creature that brings about the suffering of mankind. You should be thanking me, really. Imagine if your lady friend was here. She would've been thanking me for killing the devil that killed her sister. Hell, even that police officer would've been kissing the ground at my feet! Why aren't you thanking me? Why are you crying and acting like a baby?"

"He was nothing like them... He was far better than any of you... You're cruel... Far worse than any demon..." Isaac whispered.

"How am I cruel? I was trying to save you." He sighed. "Whatever. I'll leave you with him. Besides, this is a far better form of torture, don't you think?" He whispered as he leaned forward and cupped Joshua's cooling cheek. "Because this one lasts forever." And just like that, he left the room.

Forever.

That word rattled in his brain as he stared at Joshua, the tears refusing to stop. Sebastian said that he was doing him a favor by killing him. What favor? He could've killed any devil in the world. Hell, he could've gone after the most dangerous ones. But no, he had to go for Joshua who had done nothing wrong. He had done nothing to deserve any of this. The reversion, the Nightmare Sand Pit, all of it because he tried to exist as his own person.

Isaac made a pact with himself that night when he got him out. He would risk his entire life for that man. The person he had known since he was a kid. Even after the fight they had where he left him for dead, he still cared for him. After all the shit they've been through, he wanted to give him a normal life. But... as long as he was a devil, he will never be able to achieve that.

Never again will he hang out with him during their downtime. Never again will they go on these late night drives and get high. Never again will they listen to the newest rock album releases.

Never again will his presence bring Madeline joy, Leah peace and him comfort.

Never again will Jessie see her son alive and breathing again.

No.

No, this can't be right. None of this is right. He doesn't deserve to die.

There was a fire burning in his veins. A fire that he hadn't felt in two years. He knew what that feeling was.

Rage. Complete, uncontrollable rage. The kind of rage that didn't care who it had to hurt.

He began to pull against his binds again, this time, not caring if his hands would be torn out of its sockets. He had to get to Joshua. He had to get to him now!

He's dying! Do something!

His tendons were almost stretched beyond their breaking point, like when you stretch a balloon too much. An instinctual part of his brain was screaming at him to stop, but he didn't listen. All he had on his mind was Joshua. He occupied his mind.

There was a loud pop and Isaac screamed louder than ever before. The first thing he noticed was that one of his hands have begun to throb. His fingers were tingling and when he tried to move them, he could barely move them a couple centimeters. But there was a significant improvement in that he could now wriggle his hand out. He slipped out of one of the cuffs, gritting his teeth, trying to bite through the excruciating pain.

Joshua was still out of his reach so he tried to look for something to pick the lock or something to drag him closer to him. He spotted a rock lying a few feet away from him. He didn't care what the consequences are anymore. He could no longer think clearly.

Joshua. Joshua Joshua Joshua Joshua.

With his barely functional hand, he grabbed the rock, lifted it high in the air and slammed it into his other wrist onto the cuff. The metal cracked, but it still held. He continued hitting it again and again, the metal cracking more and more until it finally shattered. Isaac fell to his knees, almost landing on his injured wrist before he scrambled towards Joshua. Turning him onto his back, he slammed his fingers onto his neck, but even he knew he didn't have a pulse. Who knows how long he wasn't breathing for.

It could be too late.

No. He cannot think like that.

Finding the right placement on his sternum, trying to remember what he learned about first aid, Isaac started to pump his chest and oh god, it hurts! It hurts so much! He shouldn't be putting any pressure on his injured hand, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered to him at that moment.

"C'mon, Joshua... C'mon... Don't leave me..." He panted, tears streaming down his face from the pain. However, that was nothing compared to the fire roaring in his veins. Joshua didn't go through all this shit just for him to die from some crazy guy poisoning him.

Joshua's body shook, his eyes staring into nothing as he continued. Memories of him being covered in blood flashed in Isaac's mind, making him shudder. He wished he could be in his place right now, having the poison run through him so Joshua would be spared. But what would the others think? Leah wouldn't want any of them hurt in any way.

He could almost hear Joshua's voice in his head. "Don't let me die here."

I won't let you, Joshua. I won't let you die.

"Isaac?! Izzy, are you in here?!" A familiar voice echoed from outside.

"L-Leah?! I'm in here! Help me!!"

Leah and Madeline ran in a second later, both of them gasping when they saw the grisly scene. "JOSH!!" Madeline screamed.

"What happened?! How long was he out?!" Leah shouted as they ran to the two boys.

"F-F-Five... I think, minutes? One of the hunters... He injected him with something. D-Digitalis, I think. H-He's not dead! He's still warm! I can feel it!!" Isaac stuttered, trying not to cry out.

Madeline held Joshua's hand, covering her mouth as she tried her best not to sob. Leah looked and noticed Isaac's wrist looking deformed. "Oh shit, your wrist! H-Hold on! We got Jessie! She's right outside!" She turned to Madeline. "Madeline, help Izzy up! I'm gonna carry him outside!"

She nodded and tried to touch Isaac's shoulder. "Izzy-"

"NO!! I won't give up on him! He doesn't-"

"We're not giving up on him! You're too injured to continue! Jessie's gonna help us, okay?"

Isaac paused for a moment before stopping compressions. Only then did the pain truly set in for him. He gripped his wrist tightly as he tried to take deep breaths. Madeline helped him up to his feet as Leah lifted Joshua onto her back, hooking his still shackled arms over herself. The three of them ran out of the room, leaving behind the memories of Joshua's last moments.

A few minutes later, they were finally out. Minutes that should've been spent trying to revive him. They didn't encounter anyone, not even Sebastian. The place was eerily empty. None of it mattered. Joshua was the only thing that did.

Jessie was already helping Leah lower Joshua to the ground as Isaac and Madeline sat on the steps. "Jessie, do you have some ice?! Izzy's wrist looks really bad!"

"I have some in the trunk! Hurry!" She was already starting chest compressions with great fervor, sinking her hands deeper than Isaac. Everything was a blur as he watched. He barely felt the cold when Madeline pressed the ice packs to his hands. He barely heard Jessie shouting commands at Leah. All he could do was stare at Joshua's lifeless face.

He's gone. Oh god, he's gone. We were too late.

"Hey," Madeline squeezed his shoulder. "He'll be fine. He's gonna be fine."

"I-Is he...?"

"Yes. I'm sure of it."

How could she be so sure? Sure, he's dealt with worse, but his heart actually stopped. The worst case scenario actually happened. "W-What if we don't...?"

"We'll get him back, Izzy. We'll make sure of it."

Isaac said nothing else.

Leah had grabbed the AED and slapped the pads onto his chest. The machine monitored his rhythm and confirmed he was still in v-fib. "Shock advised."

"Alright, stay back!" Jessie commanded. Leah stepped back and she pressed the button. Joshua's body jolted, but it wasn't enough. Jessie started compressions again, feeling his ribs cracking a few times. It'll heal. She just needs her son to breathe.

A few more minutes of aggressive resuscitation passed. The two women didn't know if the CPR was doing anything. His grey skin made it hard to tell, but Leah swore she saw Joshua's fingers twitch a few times.

"Analyzing now. Stand clear."

Everyone stood back. Isaac held his breath.

"Shock advised."

The machine charged up.

"Stand clear. Push to shock."

Jessie pressed the button. Joshua's body jumped.

Everyone held their breath, waiting.

Joshua took a stuttering breath, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Josh!!" Madeline shouted in joy, tears running down her face.

"Thank god..." Leah whispered.

Isaac let his shoulders sag. He's okay. He's alright now.

"Hold on! His heart rate is too fast. We need to shock it back to a normal rhythm." Jessie said.

"But he's breathing again. Wouldn't that just hurt him?" Madeline asked.

"Sometimes, a fast heartbeat can cause the heart to stop again. Cardioversion is one of the ways to get the heart beating normally. There's also adenosine, but I don't have that. So this is the only way."

Leah nodded. Jessie tapped some buttons, then charged up the AED. "Okay, this is a lower shock so it won't hurt him as much." All eyes were on them as Jessie prepared to shock him.

God, I hope this works. Isaac thought.

Jessie pressed the button. Joshua jolted, a yelp of pain escaping him. The officer pressed her fingers to his neck. "Heartbeat's stable."

The tension that was there immediately eased. Jessie took the pads off and lifted him up. "Help me get him in the car."

Leah opened the door and Jessie carried him to the back seat. Madeline led Isaac to the car as the weight of the situation began to sink in.

He's alive. He's gonna be okay.

--------

Isaac and Joshua laid in their beds, knocked out from today's events. Isaac's wrist was bandaged up and put into a splint. According to Jessie, it'll take a while for it to completely heal. Unlike Joshua, Isaac doesn't have healing abilities so it'll be more tough for him.

"So what exactly happened?" Jessie asked.

"Well, we came home to the entire place being ransacked. We tried looking for Isaac and Joshua, but they were both gone. That's when Madeline found a note next to Lynnie."

Madeline nodded and gave it to Jessie. After reading the note, she asked "And did you follow his orders?"

"Yeah. We arrived at the location where this Bachman person was. We were prepared to give him all the information we had. But he just looked at us with a smirk on his face, like he had already won something." Madeline answered.

"Yeah. I asked him 'Why are you smirking like that? We already did what you asked so when can you let them go?' He just told me, 'There is no reason for that anymore.' That's when we realized. He never intended on letting Izzy and Joshua go. That letter was just a distraction so he could try to kill him. That's when we called you and went to the abandoned hotel." Leah explained.

Jessie pursed her lips together, her hands gripping the paper. That bastard tried to kill her son...

"I mean, I don't know what we expected, honestly. That guy was a devil hunter. Of course he would use trickery to delay the rescue!" She sighed. "But Joshua is safe now. We got to them just in time."

Madeline nodded.

"God, I can't believe this happened again... I thought we were already done with this." Jessie muttered.

Leah nodded her head. "Yeah. He was just getting comfortable with his identity too. No doubt that is a major setback."

Madeline held her hand. "But we'll help them get through it, right?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, we will."

--------

Your fault. It's your fault, Isaac.

"Stop..."

Joshua is dead because of you. You couldn't protect him.

"Stop it, please..." Isaac clamped his hands over his ears.

You're fucking pathetic. You couldn't even save his life. I knew you were pathetic, but holy shit, I didn't know you were that pathetic!

You shouldn't have left him in that house. You should've stayed with him. But you didn't and now he's gone.

The hateful gazes of Leah, Madeline and Jessie all pierced into his soul. All the people he failed... He failed all of them, but most importantly, he failed Joshua.

The Cael devil appeared in front of him, limp, cold and dead, his vacant eyes staring blankly at him.

"Please stop..."

His body began to bleed. His eyes melted and Luce appeared behind him, sewing Joshua's mouth shut. You could've done so much for him, but you didn't. You are pathetic. You are a coward and you always will be.

The voices began to blend, growing louder and louder and Isaac screamed.

'I'M SORRY!! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!!"

Isaac's eyes snapped open. Everything was blurry. He didn't know where he was. His heart was pounding and his chest was tight. Joshua... Joshua, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!

He tried to take deep breaths, but it was difficult. He felt like he was choking. The room began to feel small, constricting him. He couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't think. Couldn't think at all. His tongue felt like sandpaper. I'm sorry, Joshua. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

"Izzy? Are you okay?"

He whirled his head around, too fast. Any faster and he would've snapped his own neck. Joshua was sitting up in bed, looking at him concerned. His body felt hot and cold. He couldn't stop the tears that were pouring out.

It was... just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about so why am I crying? Joshua's fine so why the hell am I still crying?!

"I... I-I... N-Night..." He couldn't speak. Why can't he speak? "I-I can't... Can't..."

"H-Hey, look at me. Look at me." Joshua sat him up and rested his hands on his shoulders. "Just breathe with me. In and out, slow and steady, okay?" His fingers massaged his shoulders, grounding him to reality slightly. A few minutes passed of Isaac trying to copy his friend's breathing. His hands gripped the Cael devil's arms, feeling his frantic heartbeat. He's here. He's here. He's alright. We're okay.

Isaac rested his head against his chest, burying his face in his shirt. "I-I feel sick... I feel like I'm gonna vomit..." His tears soaked through the fabric.

"You're okay. We're fine. It's okay. Just keep breathing with me. You're doing great." He ran his hand up and down his back.

Isaac continued to breathe deeply as his heart rate slowed. He closed his eyes as he slumped over.

"Better?"

Isaac nodded. They both stayed in each other's arms for a while, Joshua running his fingers through Isaac's hair. "I'm... not really good at this type of thing so..."

"You're fine. You did good."

Joshua purred.

A long moment of silence passed. Isaac couldn't stop thinking about Sebastian and what he did to him. How he almost died in his arms. He could've died...

"I'm sorry..."

"For what?"

"I-I didn't do anything to help you. I tried, but I couldn't get out. You..."

"Hey, this isn't your fault. Besides, if you tried anything, I bet that guy would've hurt you."

"But you almost died because of me! If we hadn't uploaded that apology video-"

"Izzy. It's fine. I'm okay now. Everyone got here in time. It could've gone a lot worse."

Silence.

"What do you think is gonna happen?"

"I dunno. Probably try to deal with more of those black robed freaks."

"But what if they hurt you again? What if that Sebastian guy tries to hurt you again, only this time, I'm not here to help?"

"Don't worry." He pulled him close. "I'll make sure he won't."

[phoenixyfriend]

OK, going through the GG posts on your blog, one of them mentioned you had a thing about othar/anevka, can we hear more about that?

I have some truly insane feelings about this crackship, it's A Lot.

They do not meet in canon. To the best of my knowledge, they've never even been in the same city in canon. I don't even have the ship happening while she's still alive, for pity's sake, but...

This ship started out as a joke. We were talking about a GG/Danny Phantom crossover on discord and I threw in fake-married Otharnevka (him gay, her a dead robot lady), where the ongoing joke was their fake relationship being goals for everyone, because she'd like... ask him to help her reach a high shelf, and instead of just grabbing the thing for her, he'd lift her up onto his shoulder to do it herself, and bow to kiss her hand, that sort of thing.

Except canon Othar isn't gay (the twitter story is canon enough that we can assume he likes women), so the next time it came up, it was less of a joke. And just. I kept getting invested?

He is a hero! She needed a hero, but never got one. She is the mad scientist's beautiful daughter, but she's the mad scientist herself too, except she's not a spark anymore, but she's still a sadist. He thinks he can help her be not-evil. She thinks she can corrupt him. He dotes on her and is an absolute gentleman without ever actually underestimating or coddling her. She's so ready to kill, and he might be a hero but he's fucking unhinged so it's not like always stops her! He's strong enough to carry and lift her 900kg body and make it look easy. He's ready and willing to stand around looking pretty while she politics, and she takes pleasure in pretending to be a damsel for him to save, especially if it ends with his shirt ripped up.

Othar: I can fix her! Anevka, in a condescending voice: Don't you want to help me kill this awful, evil spark? Othar: ...well, maybe a little murder. (Tarvek, who does not want to be here: This is not how you fix a person. I should know, Agatha fixed me.)

He's annoying, but she doesn't have to be around him when he's annoying. She's pretty well-made to just tune him out, even, and even that is rare; it's so much more fun to pat him on the arm and say 'that's nice, dear' when he's having a Heroic Monologue Moment, and then swan off to poison someone while he tries to recruit himself a new sidekick.

I just. They give me dopamine. They're awful, but not actually The Worst by GG standards. Even Anevka's mostly just Traumatically Dramatic and could probably be aimed at problems once she's got a bit of distance from the Aaronev situation.

Here, have a few Otharnevka posts:

Professor Storm (crossover fic on Ao3)

Otharnevka art from @dirigibird

The “Momma Sturmvoraus was Literally Satan” AU

The MILFnevka AU

The short of it

Just me having some emotions

Married Life Meme

Baby Outlaw

Draw Your Ship As

[beevean]

I don't care if people want to see a more humanized or a "not-so bad" portrayal of Eggman. But I'm done the moment I see fans put him over/waving the Palestinian flag and say he wouldn't support genocide with a straight face. Or say that he is less problematic than Elon Musk because he actually invents his own stuff and apparently gets sparkly rocks in a more ethical manner- because what says ethical more than threatening to blow a girl's head off if Sonic doesn't give him a Chaos Emerald, and then shoot Sonic out into space and try to blow him up?

Even his more softer portrayal in X would have had a massive body count if Sonic wasn't in the way, considering he tried to trigger a worldwide series of volcanic eruptions, with the full intention of causing a mass extinction event. Then there's the fact his movie counterpart took part in a coup in one country, and an uprising in another one. But this guy would definitely have Palestine in his thoughts and prayers!

Let's hear it for our unproblematic king~

To be honest, fanart of Eggman holding the Palestinian flag because "not even he would support genocide 🥺" are so beyond tasteless and disrespectful I don't even have the words to explain why it is. If you know the character, you should know why it would be an insult. And that's besides my personal opinion that grave world matters shouldn't be reduced to your blorbo waving a flag.

The fact that those fanart aren't even done in earnest, but to spite Pollock, is even worse. Guys, he doesn't care. He's not really Eggman. You associate him with Eggman, but you might as well draw fanart of him as Adon from Berserk or the green rat from Ratatoing. How detatched from the world do you have to be to draw a villain known for feats like unleashing gods of destruction on the world with the flag of a population being systematically oppressed and killed, implying somehow that he'd remotely care about the cause when he is known for wanting to conquer the world and willing to do anything to achieve his goal, for the sole purpose of saying to one voice actor "there! your character is a better person than you! feel bad about it!"?

This is beyond takes about a human Eggman, this is just... what the fuck. Don't do that. I don't usually say it, but please go touch grass.

[jungleslang]

I'm sorry but I just need to take a moment to scream about why Mu-deok / Naksu / Cho Yeong's character and the romance between her and Uk makes me go absolutely feral.

She's just so clever and calculating and determined. Like Uk has literally been trying for years and years to get his gate of energy open. When he finally meets Naksu, someone who's actually willing to open it for him, it's at a time where she's trapped in a weak body and doesn't have the power to do so. But she doesn't let that deter her. She's just like alright let's poison his ass instead, and it works. Just like that, she gets his gate open with minimal effort on her part (minus the torture lol).

Then there's the incident where she throws filthy water on the crown prince and pisses him off to the point that he's ready to fight them all. She gets everyone out of trouble by putting on a remorseful servant act and offering to drink the water. She also immediately clocks the prince as someone who is arrogant and therefore weak to flattery, and proceeds to follow him out and sweet talk him to death. And that works too. The prince ends up leaving that encounter being pleased and amused by her when just minutes ago he wanted to slice and dice her for daring to dirty him. She knew exactly how to act and what to say to get what she wanted.

When the crown prince threatens to destroy her birg egg charm, Naksu tricks him into thinking she doesn't care about it and causes him to throw it away, which ensures that she can get it back even if Uk loses his last duel. She is also the true mastermind behind the duel between Uk and the crown prince, which she arranged because Uk was demotivated due to Park Jin's usual bullshit. She also set up the ten duels between Uk and the other mages, which helped Uk improve by leaps and bounds since he was able to memorize and utilize his opponents tactics, which again is exactly what she wanted.

It's wild how so many pivotal events in the show were orchestrated by her. She's literally just so damn manipulative and I love it. Time and time again, she flawlessly manipulates both people and situations to achieve her desired outcome.

She's also extremely hardworking. It's clear how ruthlessly efficient she is by the way she absolutely dominates the Songrim servant test despite the fact that she's in a physically weak body. Her body is probably the weakest of all the other competitors, but she still completes every task faster and better than all of them. This is probably because she grew up on her own in a desolate place, and therefore had to develop the skills necessary to survive. Compared to Uk who's never had to cook, clean, do his own laundry, and even has people running his baths for him, Naksu is practically a survivalist.

And like you would think that someone with these traits would also have a healthy sense of self-preservation, right? WRONG.

Maybe I'm just watching the wrong shows and reading the wrong books, but usually when I see characters who are smart and cunning and know how to fend for themselves, their priorities tend to be their own safety. But Naksu literally does not give a flying fuck about her well-being. When she discovers that she can't draw her sword and thinks she'll be powerless forever, her first instinct is to just kill herself. She heads straight for the lake and jumps in. She also shrugs off being brutally tortured by Park Jin, saying she expected worse. When Jang Uk loses control during training and is about to impale her, she doesn't even try to move out of the way even though she could.

She's highly self-serving but also paradoxically has zero self-preservation, and that's why I find her character so fascinating. And it's demonstrated that the reason she's like this is that she's so goal-oriented. What Naksu cares about isn't her life, but her goals—which are getting her power back and avenging her family. If she has to lay down her life to do that, then so be it, because her safety isn't nearly as important to her as achieving her goals.

This is why the romance between her and Uk is so fucking immaculate, because he's like that too. Even though people see him as a helpless troublemaker, Uk is also very crafty and perceptive. All it took was Mudeok looking him in the eyes and swinging a crab leg at him for him to instantly figure out that she's a soul-shifter and that she's actually Naksu. He then immediately uses that knowledge to try and blackmail her into being his master. He got Heo Yeom drunk so that he could carry him and copy his breathing technique, and he even had the foresight to bribe Ju-wol in advance so that Mu-deok's identity would be protected if anyone came looking for her. He also knows how to use people's perception of him as weak to get himself out of trouble. Just like his master / maid, he's cunning, but he's also reckless and isn't all that concerned with his own safety. He literally wasn't the slightest bit upset when Naksu poisoned him. He could have easily died, and he didn't even care, he was just happy his gate of energy was finally open.

Both Naksu and Uk are people who are driven by their goals and will pursue them relentlessly without really caring if it costs them their lives. And those same people people who were once willing to do anything for the sake of their own ambitions, gave up on their goals for each other. For almost the entire show, Naksu and Uk risked so much and schemed their hearts out to get what they wanted, only for both of them to choose to be powerless in the end. The most powerful, notorious assassin in Daeho and the literal King's Star who's supposed to have a great destiny gave up their power to run away and live a simple life with each other. How can I not lose my mind over them!!!

And it's like not only did they give up their powers for each other, they also did it for the sake of the people around them. Uk wanted to save everyone that was trapped in the ice stone, and despite the fact that Naksu kept on telling herself she could let them all die, she wanted to save them too. Episode 19 Uk and Naksu are nowhere near as self-seeking as they were in episode 1, and it's partly because of each other. The way they were both instrumental to the other's growth is just 😫😫😫

And also the way that they understand and support each other. Like when Uk first tells Naksu his plan to take the barrier down, she's immediately like wtf no you could literally die, lets think of something else. Of course she wouldn't want to watch the love of her life possibly kill himself right in front of her, but that's exactly what she does. Even though she's scared that what he's about to do could cost him his life and the thought of that is so unbearable to her that she even gave up her power, she still ends up encouraging him to do it. Because she understands his "its better to die than do nothing" mentality because that's also her mentality. And Uk also understands her and the impact her upbringing has had on her. He's so considerate of her and showers her with affection without crossing any lines because he knows she's not used to it.

And let's not even talk about that moment after the barrier is destroyed and both of them have well and truly lost their chance at power, and Naksu literally fucking smiles and says it's fine because they're together. The ruthless, cold-hearted assassin who was willing to kill them both to get her power back is content being totally powerless and trapped in a weak body because Uk is with her. She once said that she'd rather die than live that way, but now she actively chooses to live that way because she loves Uk and desires him more than power 😭😭😭😭😭

December needs to come quick because I'm losing my mind over here

(Also I'm so sorry this ended up being so long I didn't mean to write this much lmaooooo)

[vacantgodling]

using rose’s tags ( @void-botanist ) as an excuse to ramble about the psyche of my boy

the funny thing about hya is he’s very pointed in how he speaks and acts because his biggest goal with communication is to have to do as little of it as possible.

he hates talking to people. he hates when people act familiar with him. he HAAAATES when people push his buttons and violate his boundaries (which is a running theme in his life). so starting from his outer core to his inner shell, he’s crafted himself as a vessel to invite LITTLE to NO conversation if he can avoid it.

his outer appearance is intimidating. dripped out in wealth and eminence, his immaculate physique with muscles that aren’t just for show, down to the golden canines that spark when he clicks them together, it’s all meticulously put together to deter anyone weak willed from speaking to him. or if they do (like servants) to keep that shit short.

The first time Lavendula laid eyes upon Hyacinthus, he had been dressed more finely than her husband. Shocking amounts of gold and grandeur adorned him; gold woven lace hidden underneath a gilded silk and stark white blouse tucked into a tight white corset laced with gold. The threads of his trousers glinted with every step, the click of golden heels on the marble floor commanding. Even from behind his mouth that could spew such malice, golden grills protected his sharp canines, making every word feel more biting with the clack of them. If you didn’t know him, you feared him and even if you did, what raw power his broad shoulders could hold. He regarded her with a look one would give a dirty, disobedient child and the warmth in it, the scathe of it, was something Lavendula had never felt. 

his brash way of speaking and the curses he colors his speech with are quite “unbecoming” of a noble and deter those of his similar class from speaking with him for too long. usually a glare alone is enough deterrent (he got his mothers resting bitch face and love that for him) but if anyone is to try and overcome that hurdle, talking with him usually cuts it short.

“I have no qualms about coming across this table and removing your head from your shoulders.” Hyacinthus spit and Wdwr. Anvil-Gunn gasped. “So if you would like to remain untouched by my beastly countenance you should fuck. Off.”

finally, acts of violence and outbursts of anger are used as the final repellant. shouting at belladonna and covering her with wine, throwing a man over a banister and killing him then leaving the body to rot in the foyer, the numerous times that he slams amon into things, punches him, or rips his clothes (in a non sexy way LMAO — well non sexy to a normal person amon thinks it’s hot because he’s deranged) are all attempts to simply get people to stop talking to him. it usually works. literally almost every person he’s dealt with doesn’t deal with him more than they have to. he wants to keep it that way.

“You infuriate me!” Hyacinthus finally roared and finally the rest of the tension crashed to the shore. He charged forward, taking a wide swing at Amon who was too stunned to react. Hyacinthus’s fist connected with Amon’s jaw in a sickening crack making Amon stumble back. Blood bloomed from his busted lip and almost instantly a bruise that began to form dark and ugly along Amon’s jaw.

but then there are people like amon, aloe, and tagetes who are undeterred.

aloe is different than the other two because he’s sweet and genuinely cares for hya. much of the reason hya doesn’t like talking to people is wrapped up in one of the Main Themes of paramour, which is genuineness. it’s no secret that most characters are fake and shallow. and despite what his actions may say, hya is the most truthful character of paramour. he doesn’t beat around the bush, he doesn’t compromise who he is, he is unflinchingly honest even if it will fuck him over (looking at every interaction with the keeper). the other extremely honest character is aloe. hya is drawn to his brother and his care, so a lot of his rough edges are softened or tapered off around him.

amon and tagetes however, enjoy pushing hya’s buttons. for different reasons and to different ends BUT they both do. and unfortunately on them none of hya’s usual tactics work. violence doesn’t do anything (tagetes seems relaxed but similarly to hya they have killed and would again though they prefer to leave the dirty work to others; amon is a fighter by nature and is also turned on by hya roughing him up so… doesn’t have the desired affect). intimidation doesn’t work. vulgarity means nothing. so with little options, hya is only left to bicker with them; a declawed cat around the two of them, essentially.

(even tho the excerpt for violence i added was of amon my point still stands 💀💀)

[kakashihasibs]

Yamato/Obito 👀

I was literally about to reblog a post about this so I'll just put my thoughts here :3

Yamaobi is my secret favorite ship for the AU where obito doesn't turn to ash in Kakashi's arms.

Yamato and Obito are recovering post war and Yamato is very unsure about Obito bc he did some horrible shit to him and others but no one but kakashi and naurto (and sometimes Sakura) will really give him the time of day so yamato with his weird infinite amount of compassion for friends of friends will tentatively reach out to obito.

Obito will feel weird bc he did torture Yamato and used him to kill people yamato cares about. And obito is still technically justifiably! angry with the shinobi system! So whats this fucking ANBU doing here >:[ behold! The ANBU is reaching out with compassion! Or is it pity >:[ Obito isn't sure but it's not like he can say no. He kinda maybe owes yamato at least an apology but you cant really apologize for torturing someone.

So it's awkward as all hell. They're both uncomfortable and untrusting and there's a weird amount of guilt on both sides tbh but they drink their tea and managed to make conversation for about 2 minutes 😌

And for reasons yamato cannot (or will not) unpack or even think about he keeps going back. (It's bc they have a weird amount of stuff in common. Given mokuton/body modifications against their wills to be used as a tool and weapon by an elder!) Slowly they managed to sustain a conversation for longer than just a couple mins and yamato mentions the sorry state of the grounds around Obito's home (prison) and now they have a goal! Fix the grounds by growing a garden!

And with the extended metaphor of healing the land they help heal each other :3 yamato helps give Obito's anger a productive direction and obito help yamato find his anger!

What starts as a grudging acquaintance done for the sake of others becomes a mutually beneficial friendship built on trust and healing :3

And one very hot summer afternoon, wiping sweat from his brow, obito will look up at yamato bc he made yamato laugh and obito will be struck by feelings of comfort and safety he hasn't felt in so long and yamato will smile awkwardly bc obito is staring at him and yamato will ask obito if he wants to get dinner at a new fancy restaurant and obito will say yes (if kakashi can get me permission) before yamato even realizes he impulsively asked obito out on a date 😌

[too-much-alphabet-soup]

Noon pt 2

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates. I need someone like you on my crew." the boy, Luffy, says his face beaming marking him as probably the most real person Zoro had ever seen.

Zoro scoffed at the idea, "I'm not going to be a pirate." but the boy was gone. So fast that in his state he almost started to question his presence.

"He's like that." the pink smudge of a boy says as he moves to the bindings on Zoro's arms, "He just wraps you up in whatever he wants and drags you along."

"You're a pirate too?" Zoro asks

"No, well… not really."

Zoro blinks his eyes  trying to bring them back into focus, but it feels like has been staring directly into the sun for a week.

"He rescued me, and he's going to help me become a marine."

"Pirates helping marines, now?" Zoro couldn't manage to roll his eyes.

"Look, Pinky, you got any food? I might as well eat something if they're just going to try to kill me anyway. I think there was a rice ball around here?"

Koby quickly looks around before finding a stepped on mush. "I, I guess."

"Fuck it, its food and I don't care about the dirt."

Luffy returns in a riot of sound right as Koby finishes shoving what bits of rice he could find in the dirt into Zoro's mouth.

"There were three of them I didn’t know which was yours." Luffy says waving them at Zoro.

"They're all mine." he says as he looks at the only person he can see clearly."

"Join my crew." Luffy repeats as Koby manages to get one of Zoro's arms free.

"Sure." Zoro gives a defeated sound as he feels the tension leave his body. He reaches for his swords and frees himself. He feels for a moment the touch of Luffy's hand he takes his swords back. Some part of his body and brain feel like something new has been awakened in him.

Memories of a distant past of someone telling him that it is in his nature to serve, but only a worthy master. Memories of distant Wano and of men from more criminal paths swearing their swords to a worthy leader. A pirate captain lead only the willing, he had been asked and he was being armed by this boy, no, man who declared his goal so freely.

He couldn't help but fall when the last of his bonds broke, barely catching himself on his white-sheathed sword -- Kuina's sword. It was like a revelation; he would have followed her to the ends of the sea, a worthy leader rarely appeared and never more than once.

"Point me at your enemies." he said, "Captain."

My sword is yours.

Pt 1

[navysealt4t]

HELLO BLUE!! ^_^ i am back in your inbox to peddle my wares (fic concepts that are plaguing me actively)

BASICALLY for further context: this fic is like. how i have it in my head is the first chapter is a wishful-thinking type of thing. where clown is intentionally out of character (and specifically more in-line with zam's perception of him, being strong willed and close with the thing plaguing him. accepting it and emerging unharmed from the process of becoming one with [in his case] the void.) and celebrated. it's a fantasy. which is part of why that's specifically referred to as abacināre; to be blinded (typically by a red-hot iron rod or basin). because it isn't the truth.

"wind up the music box, look at the book again. whose story is it really?" is a call to the correct story, the one that zam was hiding behind this dream of being someone else.

currently i haven't fully finished zam's part. but. i gave him moths as a manifestation of trauma & paranoia & fear ^_^ because i just. something in my brain makes that click. (i've used that in previous fics. i can't remember where it came from but i like it, i use it). zam's spend his life trying to kill his fear, or hide away from it, only for it to come fluttering in through the cracks. so harmless, yet absolutely soul-destroying for him. he's tearing himself apart by proxy, since he's killing a part of himself with those moths.

something something trauma acceptance... i dunno it's a flowery metaphor for admiring people who've learnt to cope with trauma (or at least, what you've perceived as such. this is untrue in the case of what zam's seeing. clown was never bothered or hurt by the void, it was just a part of life to him. making this goal completely unachievable and unreasonable on zam's part) and not knowing how to, since their example doesn't apply to what you experienced. so instead you try and follow the example and it just brings you back to square one time and time again.

also, hence, spērāre, which can mean any of the following: "to hope, expect", "to await, anticipate", "to fear, be apprehensive", "to assume, suppose".

ALSO LASTLY, the fic's title being Asomatous, meaning without a material body; incorporeal. is just the icing on the cake that is this horrible angst riddled fic. because like. zam's assumptions aren't based in anything real, they have no grounding to them. and honestly? in this... zam may as well be a ghost. and the moths as well. they aren't real, they're a manifestation ^_^ (i can't go ten minute without giving my blorbos issues. and i just like making them Like Me yk yk)

(if i give this fic a nice/happy ending then we'll get a little healing. otherwise uh. self destructive tendencies the curse yet also my beloved as a plot device.)

ogugffbhjnkfmk i have. so many thoughts...... this is supposed to just be a random fic concept that i write and never think about again. im thinking about this one a LOT. i hope you've enjoyed my nonsense ramblings because i didnt realize i could talk this much until i just. started. talking.

oh. also. song ^_^

ooiugh pitting all of this In my Mouth <3333 i LOVEEE this idea clown being intentionally out of character and idk why but i LOVEE ‘whose story is it really?’

AND MOTHS!!!! AS THE MANIFSTATION OF FEAR AND TRAUMA AIUHH <3333 i love bugs as like metaphors and in writing it’s sooo 💥💥

FUCKING . HOLD U IN MY HAND I LOVEEE HOW UR BRAIN WORKS <333333 oughh the title i love it i LOVE this 🫶🫶🫶🫶

i loveeee the nonsense rambling <3 just getting lil bits of ur brain i love words fuck yeah !!!!!

[jumpscaregoose]

lyserg diethel in hell is neat basically

lyserg's always had my favourite arc out of the main five guys and I wanna talk about it but mostly the culmination of that arc when he goes to hell. because it is neat and I get to sound ridiculous

lyserg is different from the other main characters in that instead of following a more linear character progression he hits absolute rock bottom and winds up only a few steps ahead of his introduction by the end of the manga. this fucking slaps and I love it.

the crux of his character is similar to the concept of aristotelian hamartia, or a downfall based on a morally neutral fatal flaw (the most pretentious series of words I've ever written). lyserg's parents are killed by hao, he wants revenge, he winds up in the echo chamber of the x laws for a while and spirals. the way lyserg differentiates from a class tragedy is in that he doesn't crash and burn but instead quietly returns to around where he started (but not exactly. like 4 steps ahead).

unlike the other main guys, lyserg doesn't get a big bombastic culmination of his arc (well he does, but considering the rest of them all went to hell at the same time I don't think it counts). his is a lot more understated. and I like that because I'm a loser who likes going over this manga with a fine toothed comb.

for a bit of context as to where lyserg is as a character before this scene we're busting out these scans I have again

^ this scene is about as fucked up as he gets. for most of the second half of the manga the angst is more subdued ^

at his lowest point, lyserg's #1 priority was his revenge on hao. he was willing to do a significant amount of murder and other fucked up shit for this goal. the niles match is this mentality crystallized.

when he's not being put in situations where he can kill people to further his revenge, lyserg is more... quietly depressed. just sitting in the corner all 😔. he is There

and then we get the mastema hell scene (what do you even call it). the character's individual hells are clearly meant to demonstrate traumas/important stuff in relation to the character (the tao mansion, a flooded forest, mount osorezan, and a dante's inferno reference I think?). lyserg's is in london. the area around big ben specifcally. the last moments of happiness he had before his parents' deaths

and actually the big ben thing was a lie. he spawns in next to this building

I'm assuming it's meant to be a church but given how busted it is it could be something else. church is my first guess based on the christian imagery of the x laws as a group. if we take this building as a church meant to represent the x laws, it's also of note that it's broken, like the current state of the group with almost all its members dead

out of all five hells, we only see two significant demons. the first is oh-oni in yoh's, clearly calling back to the osorezan arc. the second is mastema in lyserg's. the demon being named mastema is significant because, at least according to my googling, the name mastema means hatred in hebrew. it's also explicitly stated as a symbol of hatred in the text

my absolute favourite part of this scene is this part though

(my absolute favourite part got bodied by my phone scan rip)

ALSO if this RANDOM BRITTANIA FACTOID is true MISSED OPPORTUNITY FROM TAKEI

six wings for fire and you give the fire guy four. ok. kind of hope this isn't true so we didn't lose anything in the divorce

back to the actual scene, I think the angel form is meant to represent the justice of the x laws as a crutch for actual personal growth. it isn't possible for lyserg to defeat his hatred with the holier-than-thou ideology he's been living with, so he nearly gets crushed

the rest of the scene is significantly less interesting but the cliffsnotes version is that Cool Character Development is implied but happens mostly offscreen in a Takei Moment. read it for yourself if you want the details there because I don't wanna write about them

this next pages makes me feral though

mastema dolkeem. flames of hatred. love it so much. roses are red violets are blue mastema dolkeem has nothing to do with you. yeeessss my boy work on overcoming your need for revenge and grow as a person yesssss

obnoxiously long lyserg rant over thanks for coming