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#sure. the guilt is destroying me. but i deserve it. in fact. i deserve all the problems i am having. i deserve to be out of her life
gatun-gatunesco · 1 year
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#the results finally came: i have hepatitis. Is not longer just simple sickness and liver malfunction. Now i have chronic illness#and i am back into my place. after being far away for some weeks feeling like a victim of the narrative#how foolish and stupid i was#i tried not to think about it. to not give it importance as she said it was not that serious#but now that i am alone in here again i realize that everything it was my fault#“is our mistake” i can hear her say. but it is my fault: i was the sober one. the one in control. the one that did not let her go#“she was teasing you. was somerhing she wanted” some people reply. but that is no excuse for my behaviour#i was supposed to protect her. to let her be free with herself. and in the end i only gave her pain and regret. i destroyed my last chance#perhaps being denied to fix what i did. to prove myself better. is my punishment and i should accept it#not able to know about her life. if she is okay. if her heart is recovering. if her mind is not killing her. is part of the punishment too#sure. the guilt is destroying me. but i deserve it. in fact. i deserve all the problems i am having. i deserve to be out of her life#my chairs are screaming. my bed is punching. the blankets are a burden. the walls compress me. the juice is sour.#i can no longer make that dish. not that snack. and just thinking about the strawberrys dessert makes me nauseous and want to puke#i am totally sure that event damaged her more than she wanted to admit. if is this devastating to me. should be x10 worse for her.#but i will never know and that is part of the suffering i deserve#i hope she manage to heal. to forget about me. to find someone better that can truly help her#i hope she never wanted to came back. it will only bring her pain. see me will only make her remember the trauma#i am not free of sin. i betrayed myself that day. i betrayer her too. i do not deserve forgiveness from both#the walls are not the culprit. yet my anger keep me punching them. i could damage myself but my liver is already doing that#perhaps this illness will set me free. but until that happens. i still need to try going forward.#mostly becasue is not fair i just give up and end my suffering that easy. i must face my punishment#yet i hope she is not being tormented by my mistake. i doubt it. but she deserve better#hopefully she will never read this and therefore never try to contact me to debate the mistake if she still think was her fault#hopefully she will heal and grow. happy and independent. free with lots of friends. loving herself and someone special for her#i tried to be a saviour but at the end i only destroyed who i wanted to save. along myself in the process#better to stay alone that to hurt someone and myself again#i wish life to let me be in the void where i belong. feeling desires is gross and awful. better to not feel anything like i was before#tried to distract myself with funny stuff and healing posts. heck even some sad and broken stuff to feel understood#but nothing of that was really helpful as i was only neglecting the reality and severity of my actions. i must leave#so goodbye. i should come back when the illness and the guilt stop killing me (if it does not succeed)
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hetaherr · 7 months
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spending habits
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:wriothesley modern au!
:fluff, crack, mentions of swearing, gender neutral
i thought this would be pretty funny, a little ooc and definetely self indulgent because i love recieving stupid gifts- hell i love buying myself stupid things from aliexpress LOL. and for those with gift giving as your love language, NO SHAME!! don't feel bad about it, ur deserving of all your cute little presents and trinkets, anyway ily <3 reblog to win ur 5050s
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"holy shit"
wriothesley raises an eyebrow as he flips through a few documents in bed, he looks your way with anticipation. he watches you blink at your phone, proceeding to look back up at him, then back to your phone in utter disbelief, eyes wide and mouth agape, he can't help but chuckle.
"i just got some email confirmation, of- hear this, three hundred, three hundred fucking dollars."
you say, shoving the phone in wriothesley's face. he squints at how your phone is set at a level of brightness that put even the gates of heaven to shame. he stays quiet as he barely skims through the email before shrugging.
"yea i know, i paid for it."
as he says so nonchalantly, he sees your face distort into that of pure horror. what does he mean by, he paid for it?
"you really don't remember?"
he laughs. the sound of his voice usually makes you feel various emotions, all dancing around the themes of love and passion, but now you would have to add straight terror to the list as your heart sinks to the depths of your stomach. his big hands let go of your phone, and make its way to cup our cheeks.
"when i picked you up last night, you were pissed drunk-"
he chuckles as he interupts himself. his thumbs caressing your plump and soft cheeks. you await him to continue, dreading to hear what ridiculous scheme you managed to come up with while drunk.
"and though i'm not sure where you got this idea from, you kept insisting that i wasn't spending enough money on myself-"
"no...."
you interupt, gasping as you realise where the conversation was headed. wriothesley smiles at your reaction. clearly he doesn't feel like the situation is that big of a deal and it leaves you baffled at the fact he seems to be taking it so lightly.
"i simply said i'd rather spend my money on you and i really don't think i've seen you look so excited in my life. we spent the evening browsing your wishlist, you certainly had some odd things saved might i add."
he laughs again so unphased, while you were absolutely destroyed and horrified by your actions you were visably shrinking under the covers.
you couldn't bare to look at him, face red and the feeling of guilt was so heavy, not to mention the embarrassment you felt. you were really going through it... once again his warm hands make its way under the sheets and snaked around your waist. there's a soft hum of your name and as relieved as you are that he doesn't seem angry at the three hundred over dollars missing from his bank account, you simple can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes as he joins you under the blanket.
"my my, aren't you cute."
he says in that awfully familiar tone, the one he uses when he knows he has an advantage over you. he looks at your flustered face, the same face that manages to tug at his heartstrings everytime he sees it. you mutter countless apologies and promises that you'll definetely pay him back, as you bury your head into your hands.
"hm? i'd much rather you didn't sweetie, no matter how much money you decided to milk out of me it'll never reach the extent of which, i love you."
bonus: you decide not to look through the list of items that drunk you had insisted on getting and throughout the next few weeks, you and wriothesley would find packages addressed to you on the doorstep. it feels sorta like christmas and you open it together, some items are so ridiculously niche and some even straight up useless. you both have no idea what to do with it but it does do a good job at making the both of you laugh. wriothesley's favourite is when a piece of clothing comes, obviously he asks you to model it for him, spinning you around and even going as far as whistling at you when it's something excessively skimpy.
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Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7
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A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.
Summary: To be loved is to be changed.
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Chapter 7
In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.
In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.
Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.
It hurt more to know that this was your final day.
You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?
You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.
It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.
“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”
He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.
The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.
'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.
You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.
The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.
It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.
“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"
He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.
“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.
“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.
It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”
“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.
You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.
“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”
You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.
“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”
“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”
He stepped out to you again.
Closer.
His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.
“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?
Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?
That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?
‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’
Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.
It hurt.
Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.
It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.
“I would very much like that.”
-
Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.
The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.
You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.
It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.
You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!
Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.
The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.
This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.
Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.
The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.
It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.
His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?
You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.
Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.
But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.
The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.
The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.
You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.
Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.
A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.
You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.
Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.
But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.
Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.
He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.
Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.
You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.
An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.
“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”
Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.
How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.
“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.
Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.
He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.
“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.
You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.
“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.
-
 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.
Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.
The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.
Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.
“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”
“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.
Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”
You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”
“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.
“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”
Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”
“Henrietta and Duchess.”
“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”
“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”
“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”
“Hey, that’s cute though.”
You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.
Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.
“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”
“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”
You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”
“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”
“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”
“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”
He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.
Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.
“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”
You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.
When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.
“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.
Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”
“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”
“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”
“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.
When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.
You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.
“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.
“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”
“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”
“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”
“What is it?”
He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.
Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.
Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.
With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.
You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.
You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-
“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”
“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”
You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”
This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”
“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”
“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”
You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.
The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”
“Tell  him the truth.”
Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”
Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”
“How so?”
“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”
“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.
“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”
“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”
You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”
Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”
It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”
“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.
“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”
“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.
By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.
It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.
-
A/N:
This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!
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slumber--parties · 2 years
Text
The last episode and the way it put everything else in a new perspective still has me spiraling. I can see every single thing having 10 different meanings. So this is nothing definitive.
But I was reflecting on the fact that we know now that Louis is living in what is clearly Armand's apartment, what looks like a very constrained life.
And that just got me thinking about Claudia saying "his love is a small box he keeps you in", talking about Lestat. And we all made the visual connection to Louis and Lestat fitting in the same coffin and interpreted it as a metaphorical confirmation of Claudia's words. But Claudia didn't have the whole picture.
Thinking back on it, Lestat is certainly insanely possessive about Louis and - in that sense - will always limit his choices. But apart from that he never wanted for Louis to have a small life. He wanted to show him the world. He wanted him to escape the country that treated him so badly, the family that didn't understand him and live free of any worry. Of course he lacked a fundamental understanding about why Louis was never going to be able to do that and never put in the work to really get it. But the point is that Louis chooses to stay in New Orleans for his own reasons and to live the life he lives for his own reasons. It's more guilt than love that keeps him close to his human family after a while and the choice to continously strife against the racist American society is born out of his feelings of inadequacy and desire for recognition rather then an attempt at helping his people. We understand why he does it, but he is objectively destroying himself with his own hands. Being a vampire exacerbates some of this, but it was always there.
And at this point Lestat actually screams to him "this is not a life" because he at least recognizes what Louis is doing to himself. And yet he stays and he lives that life with him. Even when Louis is so depressed he is living like a shadow still Lestat stays. He may not act impeccably throughout but he does stay, despite this clearly not being the life he wanted.
And the point is that, while some of Lestat's behaviours ultimately worsen Louis's condition, the box in not their relationship per se imo. Or at least it's not the only box. It's at most a box within the box.
I think the box is more generally a representation of Louis's mind and the life Louis always ends up building for himself within the confines of his persisting depression.
And the show tells us that Lestat joins him in his box. It's always Lestat that goes to Louis's coffin and never the other way around. And it's always Louis that closes the locks. Even with the house they live in, it may technically be Lestat's, but I would argue it is ultimately Louis's. Lestat bought it for him and Louis keeps it in the divorce. And Lestat wants to leave New Orleans but they never do, until finally - when Antoinette offers - Lestat says that there's no place for him but New Orleans. And when Louis "kills" Lestat and they separate, sure Louis is "free". But Lestat also climbs out of a coffin.
I just think that AMC has done such a good job at recentering Louis in the narrative and not let him be overshadowed by other characters. It's true that "the box" is a really good metaphor for abusive relationships, but it's also a very good metaphor for depression and the fact that Louis continously creates boxes for himself out of any situation is also very interesting to me.
This also does not detract imo from all the ways in which Lestat actively contributes to making Louis life miserable. Before I get a bunch of hate, I am not saying Lestat is a saint and that Louis deserved what he got or anything like that.
I was just reflecting on the layers of the narrative themes and the way they are showing us why Louis and Lestat are so bound to each other. And I think it's interesting that, in their dynamic, while Lestat boxes Louis in with more overt control, you get the feeling that Lestat also feels boxed in by Louis simply because the hold his love for Louis has over him is such that he can't leave even when he is feeling trapped. And that Louis know this.
And while, again, Lestat has a lot to improve, don't you think it's refreshing that his role in the narrative is not to save Louis? That Louis is a character that has his own path outside of his relationships and this is his story. That the role of love is never to fix, but just to accompany. That sacrifices must be made for this. That in moments when it's unclear whether you will ever be able to climb out of your box, all you want is someone willing to stay there with you for a while. And that ultimately marriage is partly about giving up and preferring giving up infinite freedom by choosing to build your life around one person.
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CW: child whumper (sidekick), mentions of previous abuse. (If you find any more CWs I’ve missed, please tell me!)
Villain was feeling great. Todays plan had gone perfectly and now hero’s own sidekick was tied to a chair in front of them. Poor sidekick probably had no idea where they were, Villain smirked.
‘I bet your praying hero is going to show up and save you. I assure you they won’t. They don’t even know where my lair is; besides, do you really think they’ll go through all the effort just to save their stupid little sidekick who got themselves kidnapped?’
Sidekick was shaking. Terrified. Now completely at the villains mercy, their identity was going to be revealed, they just knew it. And then it wouldn’t just be sidekick that will die, but their loved ones too. Hero has told sidekick about villain. Sidekick knew villain was a ruthless killer. Their fear mixed with their guilt for having endangering not only themselves but their friends too. Hero would be so disappointed in sidekick. Villain was right, hero would never bother to save them. It was their own fault that they had messed up and gotten themselves kidnapped.
Villain crouched down and reached out to sidekicks face-
‘Let’s see who’s under this disguise- which I must say, is rather pathetic. Could you not have come up with a better costume for yourself?’, villain joked.
-Sidekick flinched away, but villain swiftly grabbed sidekicks mask and roughly pulled it off their face.
‘I bet you’re-‘,
The villains grin dropped along with their stomach. This was not what they were expecting. Rage shook through villain. Sidekicks face showed nothing but absolute fear.
‘A child. You’re just a child’
Villains face softened as they tried to hide their anger from the kid that sat before them. Hero had sent a child to fight them. A child. How could hero do this? And who was responsible for sidekicks black eye? Villain knew it wasn’t them. Was it hero? When villain got their hands on them-
But that could be dealt with later. Villain needed to focus on the terrified face in front of them.
‘I’m not a child. I’m 15’
‘Who told you that was old? Was it hero? You can’t even drink yet, darling. You’re a child.
And to be clear, I am not going to hurt you. I know hero’s probably told you horrible lies about me, but I can assure you, they’re not true… at least most of them aren’t true. But I would never intentionally hurt a child’
Sidekick was shocked by the softness of villains voice, which was completely different from the roughness it had been filled with 2 seconds ago. It was just an act. It had to be. Sure, hero could be harsh to sidekick, but sidekick deserved it right? Hero was just training sidekick.
‘Are you hungry? Injured? Let me patch you up’
Villain gently brushed sidekicks hair out their face to get a better look at the purple bruises forming on their forehead. Sidekick flinched away from the hand, letting out a small whimper.
That was it. Villain vowed they would destroy hero next time they saw them. But first, they have got to help the poor kid.
————————————————————————————————
This was my first time writing something like this, so any feedback and help would be appreciated. In fact, it think this is the first time I’ve written a story outside an English lesson (which I haven’t done as a subject since GCSE’s) since I wrote a short Harry Potter headcanon when I was 12 lol. I still remember that headcanon tho, and I’m pretty sure it might still be on tumblr somewhere 🫡
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nicoleanell · 1 year
Note
I would love to hear your meta on the scene from Renfield with the priest and the vampire hunter, if you’d be willing to share!
SURE, THANK GOD YOU ASKED.
My thing with that scene is it was peak Give Renfield A Hug and also the most irredeemable thing he does in the movie short of destroying some kid's ant farm, and that instantly made me fall in love with him.
I like the fact they made Renfield an aggressively sympathetic character and at the same time not wholly innocent. Robert Montague Renfield is neither a good guy or a bad guy but he deserves to be okay. (Also he may come off way more "sane" as movie Renfields go but he's not a well person lol, and the fact he's in an all-gender support group for abuse survivors very rapidly becomes not so much A Joke as it is the Entire Point of the movie.)
In the flashbacks, it's totes played for comedy and riffing on the 1931 movie and there's a little bit of an "unreliable narrator" vibe to it when Renfield's like, it was good we had great times etc. :))) We don't really know how in control of himself he is or how much he's whitewashing. But then we get the church/vampire killer thing and there's like... the first seed of something more real going on. The movie tells us upfront that the last time Dracula was almost defeated he stopped it, willingly, and it wasn't normal vampire enthrallment stuff as much as a very human emotional choice.
There's some heavy-handed manipulation happening and it's *completely* non-supernatural. They'll lock you away. I'll protect you. I care about you. And Nic Hoult's big woobie eyes hold all the sadness and isolation and genuine hope/desire to be loved, and it's unhealthy attention but there's nothing better out there for him. 🥺 <- emoji rendition of Renfield and also me.
Oh and for good measure his "he really means it this time" internal monologue is 100% meant to sound like toxic/abusive boyfriend stuff he's echoing from the support group, which is A Joke in this movie until it's not anymore.
(Side note, I saw you mention this in another post - the mental institution headcanon is Valid. I would've liked for it to be explicitly in there somewhere but as far as I'm concerned nothing *contradicts* it and it's one of like 3 facts people associate with Spiders Georg over here. So I'll take that crumb that the threat of him getting locked up is just as likely to be in an asylum (again) as a jail. And yikes the legitimate fear of that being WORSE than the hell he's currently in.)
And the second he does the thing, some priest *completely proves Dracula right* by immediately throwing more guilt and blame on Renfield and being like YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYONE ELSE HE KILLS NOW. Which, fair! But also, dude, you're being the opposite of helpful here! Lmao fucking Catholics. He knows this! It's why he can't get out! Of course he chose Dracula and he did it on purpose and he did it because of trauma and it *cemented* him being trapped forever. This is the climax of an entire other movie in which Renfield is probably not the main character but would definitely end up my problematic fave anyway.
SO YEAH. Between that and the reveal he left a whole wife & kid, there's such an interesting theme of guilt/shame on top of self-esteem and learned helplessness issues I was not anticipating in this movie. It's important for him to get to a place of: "I want to blame this legitimately awful monster but I also did SOME of this to myself, and when I can accept that without immediately going into a fetal position, it gives him less power over me."
Does not remove his power completely! 'Cause Renfield 2023 is also not, like, saying that you can just Easily Decide To Leave Your Violent Abuser. But the affirmations about being enough and deserving better and seeking better in spite of having failed or fucked up before are important.
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tgrailwar-zero · 5 months
Note
Look, Rider, I have been listening, I just feel guilty about summoning someone only to drive them out. Yes, we shouldn't have summoned her in the first place, but we did.
Also, I am starting to feel worse every time she acts like a kid if I am honest...
Are we really doing the right thing by killing her? I mean it's probably in part because she looks like a little kid that I am having such trouble. It's hard when it's directly in front of you.
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CONSTANTINE: "…Right. The Beast has bewitched you with it's appearance, and you deign to pity it. I understand. Heroic Spirits cannot be children. Nor is the Whore of Babylon a mere child. That thing does not deserve 'guilt', we must…"
He stopped, before crossing his arms with a sigh.
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CONSTANTINE: "…Nevermind. Continue your talks with the Beast."
A moment of long, dejected silence hung before PRETENDER sidled up to him, watching as the Emperor gave another attempt to tug his blade free from the sheath to run through DRACO, only to be met with the resistance of the Command Spell.
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PRETENDER: "Oho. With that sigh, I'm sure that means you've heard a lot of apologies and not much agreement. Now, I get that we're technically enemies- as you're the Rider of Red..."
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PRETENDER: "...Though you're not much of a 'Rider of Red' anymore, are you? Your allies are now your enemies, and everything you say gets brushed off by your current allies. You want to be a hero, but you're tasked with a different part. I mean, if I were you, I'd be furious. I mean, if my enemy openly wished to behead me, I'd want my Masters to do everything to support me- and yet here they are now, with nothing but excuses..."
CONSTANTINE: "There's no reason to be furious. Besides..."
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PRETENDER: "Ooh. Want to mark that ego blow, or should I? I'm sure you expected your Masters to rally behind you against evil, not saddle you with performance art and baby the demon, right?"
With an airy laugh, PRETENDER leaned in closer.
PRETENDER: "Listen, you seem like a stand-up guy. But that still doesn't change the fact that your Masters are giving more courtesy to a Beast than to you. Maybe they're already enthralled by it. The power, the opportunity… I can understand you're the type to 'turn the other cheek', but sometimes you need to just do the right thing. You know… like slaying a dragon."
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The PRETENDER-Class snapped his fingers, as CONSTANTINE felt a surge of magical energy rush through his body. Compounding his innate magical ability, the resistance to magic blessed upon him increasing exponentially.
He drew his sword. Smoothly, simply, easily. His eyes widened, as he turned back to look at the PRETENDER- who returned the Emperor's surprise with a coy smile and a wink. CONSTANTINE turned to look at the Beast.
Slay a dragon. Like the great Saint Georgios.
He began to walk forward, slowly. The Beast wasn't paying him any mind. Arrogance, made manifest. He felt a myriad of things- guilt, anger, frustration… mostly towards himself. He was given an order, and he was disobeying. Even if it was the right thing, he made an agreement. This was treachery, but…
He began quietly praying to himself.
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CONSTANTINE: "Remit, pardon and forgive, O God, our sins committed voluntarily and involuntarily…"
This was the right thing. He could ask forgiveness later, if needed. He shook his head- why feel shame for enacting justice?
By Saint Mary. Saint Martha. Saint Peter. Saint Paul. Saint Michael, who had boldly fought the Dragon in order to bring peace to the world, as prophesied by Saint John. This Beast must be laid low. Destroyed, completely and utterly.
He continued quietly praying to himself as he marched silently onward.
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CONSTANTINE: "…By word and deed, knowingly and in ignorance, by thought and purpose, by day and night…"
Closer. Closer. Step by step. Moment by moment.
He raised his blade.
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CONSTANTINE: "…forgive all these... for You are gracious and love mankind."
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gorgynei · 1 year
Text
The Tyler Split Personality Theory
AKA why Tyler Galpin is 100% innocent. And deserves a hug.
Foreword. I know that DID being represented as like an "evil mode/personality" is harmful and not accurate, but I do think its what the writers are doing with Tyler (and hydes as a whole), so heres my theory on why:
Tyler, to my understanding, has 3 modes: Regular Tyler, Evil Tyler, and the Hyde. Regular Tyler is the nice, sweet guy we spend most of the show getting to know. Evil Tyler is the manipulative and cruel side that gets shown off in episode 8. The Hyde is the literal monster (I'll be referring to Evil Tyler and the Hyde both as "the hyde" because they're the same entity, and just calling Regular Tyler "Tyler"). Thinking about Tyler and the hyde as two separate people with different morals and motivations really helps to understand the dichotomy at play with his character.
I believe that Tyler can't control what the hyde does and doesn't enjoy doing violent things, at all.
1. Tyler admits it. Sort of.
To start off, this conversation between Wednesday and Tyler is very very significant. The show lends a lot of weight and screen time to this supposed mural destruction from a year ago for, seemingly, no reason. Yes, it informs how Tyler and Xavier act around each other, but I think it represents Tyler's feelings on his destructive actions as a hyde.
The way Tyler looks off into the distance when he says "I could give you a million excuses, but... the truth is I'm still trying to figure that out" leads me to believe that the hyde had something to do with it. He isn't quite sure whether that was something he did intentionally, or if he was commanded to. If you read everything Tyler says here as him talking around being the hyde and doing violent acts against his will/knowledge, the conversation suddenly means a lot more than it did at face value, and it has a real reason to be present in the show.
In particular, Tyler mentions a "boot camp" which is presumably his torture sessions with Thornhill. He also does not call himself a normie, rather a "townie", which could be semantics, but it's worth mentioning. Tyler saying "I did a terrible thing, but I swear I'm not a terrible person" is also a great way of foreshadowing his split personality and guilt over his actions in a subtle way (assuming this theory is true).
Edit Feb 3 2023: Made a few realizations so I'm adding on.
Tyler isn't just talking around his actions as a hyde or being symbolic, he's literally talking about them, and about his mom. Tyler holds (or held) a lot of resentment towards Nevermore because his mom wasn't offered the tools to try and contain her hyde. When he says "a bitter townie that blames everyone else for the shitty hand he's been dealt", I'm pretty sure he's talking about his mom and how her death was directly caused by Nevermore's failure to help her. Thornhill releasing his hyde specifically using information about his mother feeds into this idea, it unlocked a rage inside of him once he learned that fact.
When he destroyed Xavier's mural, it was an act of anger and frustration. A way of getting back at Nevermore for his mom's death. But afterwards, he realizes that's not who he wants to be. He doesn't want to be an angry, resentful person that acts out and blames Nevermore for his mother's death. He even completely stops pranking Nevermore students, which he did often with the other normies before he "went soft". He forgives them.
Unfortunately, the hyde is an amalgamation of all of that hatred and is being wielded by an even more bitter victim of Nevermore (Thornhill), so he's forced to do terrible things in order to try and take down Nevermore.
Tyler not only refuses the hyde, he also refuses to hate Nevermore for something it did in the past. There's no possible way that he's on board with anything that Thornhill is doing.
2. Jekyll and Hyde
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Obviously there's the hyde's namesake: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. If you're unfamiliar, Jekyll is a brilliant scientist that unlocks his alter ego, Hyde, using a chemical mixture. He's aware that he is Hyde and knows that Hyde is doing terrible things, but allows him to do so (at first) because he feels like needs to keep the "evil" inside of him separate from the "good" inside of him.
While it's possible that Wednesday borrowed the namesake just to allude to the well-known story and add to the "monster that transforms into average person" mystery, a INCREDIBLY crucial aspect of Jekyll and Hyde's story is that Jekyll is a good person but also can't control Hyde. While Jekyll unlocked Hyde intentionally, he quickly lost control and Hyde took over more and more until Jekyll was forced to commit suicide. I strongly believe this is also a big part of being a hyde, with the individual affected by hyde-dom taking the place of Jekyll.
Tyler had his hyde unlocked by Thornhill, not by himself, which is immediately a deviation from the old story. To me, this just means that Thornhill tortured Tyler in order to force him to let it out, weakening his ability to hold the hyde at bay, and increasing her hold over him.
3. Tyler's Therapy with Dr. Kinbott
In episode 2, Tyler mentions that he's seeing Kinbott because he has "court ordered" therapy. This is odd given that court ordered therapy is usually only given to people if they are a direct harm to themselves or others, like in Wednesday's case. It's unclear whether this is the result of his hyde getting him in trouble or if he was just ordered therapy following his mother's death because it was especially hard on him.
Near the beginning of episode 8, there's a scene where Sheriff Galpin is listening to recordings from Kinbott regarding Tyler's therapy sessions:
"When I press him on his mother or any sensitive issue, he snaps. It's like I'm talking to a different person. I'm increasingly concerned. I believe the trauma of losing his mother may have left Tyler with deeper psychological scars that I had suspected"
That scene serves zero narrative purpose outside of letting the viewer know this information about Tyler, so it has to be significant. In particular, the line about him turning into a "different person" is especially relevant. It seems like some part of Tyler (hyde or otherwise) is very defensive about his mother and has an extremely hard time even discussing her. This may be the result of Thornhill using his mother to coax the hyde out (see: "Tyler honey, make Mama happy and shut her up."), so any discussing of his mom makes the hyde come to the forefront.
4. Tyler's relationships
A lot of the things Tyler says and does could be interpreted as an extremely well thought out manipulation plot, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. I genuinely believe that Tyler is a good person and that most of what he says pre-e8 can be taken at face value.
Tyler does genuinely care about Wednesday. Many of his actions with her are likely influenced by the hyde (especially their date lining up perfectly with Thing's stabbing), but he put so much care put into their dates and conversations that it's hard to believe it was all a lie. If Tyler really didn't care about Wednesday, he might not have go so far to decorate a crypt, apologize so profusely for wrecking Xavier's mural, or help her escape Jericho when he knew Thornhill needed her for her plan.
5. Episode 8
There's a lot of small but crucial things in episode 8, so I'll just mention them all here.
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This tiny moment is EXTREMELY concrete evidence in my eyes. The way the music rises to an intense swell but then fades almost immediately (as if some danger has passed) and Tyler goes from smirking and being all confident to almost crying, it's just the only explanation that makes sense. Tyler was taken over by the hyde and then regained control of himself. Seeing how shaken and afraid Wednesday was overwhelmed him with guilt, so he backs off immediately.
Edit Feb 4 2023: It's also worth noting that when Tyler says "You have no idea what's coming" it is, at least partially, a warning. Wednesday even interprets it as one, later telling Xavier that "Tyler warned me that something bad was coming". I do think the hyde is almost entirely in control in this scene until the moment I described above, but some part of Tyler, some speck of his true self, wanted desperately to try and help Wednesday.
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Similar to the scene in the police station, it seems like Tyler snaps himself out of the hyde's control for a moment. But this time, instead of it being at the end of an outburst, it's Wednesday mentioning his brief torture at her hands that brings him out of it.
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At first, Sheriff Galpin's involvement in the Tyler vs. Enid fight seems strange and sort of pointless. He doesn't contribute much other than giving Enid the upper hand for a moment and futilely calling out for Tyler. To me, they included the Sheriff here in order to demonstrate that the hyde is not Tyler. If it were, he might have calmed for a moment or even just hesitated before rushing to attack his father, but he didn't. I believe they're using the Sheriff to represent Tyler's humanity, which the hyde has completely stripped away in this moment.
6. Master/Hyde Dynamic
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A hyde becomes a "slave" to the person who unlocks it. This is a big part of the unraveling mystery of the show and it seriously calls into question Tylers agency and free will. Even if Tyler was a completely terrible person who wanted to do everything Thornhill told him to do, he would still partially be a victim because hydes by nature form a weird and dependent bond with the person who freed them, even if the hyde was freed against the individuals wishes.
Aand thats all! I'm sure theres more stuff I didn't mention, and there was even stuff I left out because I didn't want to get to bogged down in the micro-expressions, but! There it is. Can Tyler haters give him a break now?
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scoonsalicious · 1 month
Note
the first thing i really want to say, i hate being right. i really hate it this time. WE WERE ROOTING FOR YOU BUCKY. I !!! WAS !!! FUCKING !!! ROOTING !!! FOR !!! YOU !!! I'll be calling you other names now until further notice. honestly, what more can I say? I basically said all the thoughts I had on my previous ask, and while at first they were based on theories, well, now they're not 😭 I'm not even mad at him anymore, I'm just so drained and tired of it all. Disappointed really. Just disappointed. I do know he didn't do the "<3" tho. Since Jethro went through his phone so she probably changed it herself. But that's the least of everyone's problem right now.
Like I said, if he had just confessed right off the bat, it wouldn't have been as bad, in my opinion at least. I mean, it's still a shitty thing to do no matter the semantics or technically, but it's the LYING. It's truly what fucks a person up. And yes with what you said!!! Brendon took so many choices away from Pocket!!! She was blindsided and manipulated to some degree and it's just. sigh. so disappointed.
Now, let me put my theory cap on because lol surprise, I have some. You said the first time didn't count. So something must've happened and I know you said it wasn't SA but sex pollen? could be? Or omg, something Hydra put because you know how they would probably want super soldiers to procreate even if it's against their will? What if Jacinta knows that code? and ..... shit, omg. wait. I just realized something. I really had to stare at my screen because this could be mind blowing but I also could be so wrong because this probably won't make any sense. BUT, (i know this will seem like i'm defending him but hear me out) if the first time wasn't his choice (not fully anyway), he probably still felt disgusted by himself that it happened. So, the second time, do you think Bob did it to punish himself? Like doing the act didn't give him any pleasure at all, just disgust and guilt and regret and actual physical pain? !!! TW !!! but kinda self-harm but in a different way? Because maybe in the back of his mind, he knew this would destroy Pocket, and the thought of that itself is so painful to him that, he did it as a way to punish himself? To hurt himself by hurting pocket? Which is a really fucked up mental gymnastic but idk okay, i have no idea how my brain works LMAO. He needs a new therapist my god. Or maybe he needs two. Or maybe I'm just way over my head and the reason the second time happened was because that was the time he saw the articles. OR could be both a mixture of both. And again, he had an actually devil in his shoulder. But still, to given in that easily. Weakass supersoldier if you ask me. Like I said, the whole "I did it for revenge" cuts differently too. Honestly just basically what i said on my previous ask hahaha
Sigh, I know there's something else going on. I know something was cooking underneath all that. I'm sure Jenny had more at play to this than Baker. I don't think she's that lucky that the universe just decided for everything to fall into place like that. I'm sure she had all the string. Like yes, I won't deny Bryan is an asshole, and he still did what he did. But still, no matter if there was something that happened that led up to the act (apart from the articles which is shitty on its own as a reason but he's a fragile weakass man so) It still won't change how he lied about it after. I do think the heaviest part of it, especially to Pocket, wasn't exactly the fact that he slept with Junia but the fact that he lied about it and covered it up.
I will add tho, as much as I am looking forward for Pocket to have her villain origin story, because she absolutely does deserve it, I'm just hoping she won't do something that she's regret later on. Though right now, I also have no idea how she's ever going to forgive him. We'll just have to wait and see as everything unfolds.
Honestly, I don't think I've got anything more to add. I'm just sitting here sighing and shaking my head as I'm typing this. Though I can't wait for the truth to unravel, because I really do have a feeling there's more than meets the eye. I'll probably pop back in if I have a new theory, but either way. You're amazing as always!
— Jnon 🤍
I think getting your posts are the favorite part of my day!
Let's address! I'm sorry you were right. I hate that you were right, but right you were. Pocket is also definitely drained and tired from it, too. Exhausted. Brutus definitely did not do the <3; he didn't even know how to unblock her. Venus Flytrap (going with a V-name this time, lol) did it all herself.
Part of what hurts Pocket so much is that Buckwheat knows her history, knows how much trouble she has with trusting people, and yet, he keeps lying. It's one of those "I lied because I knew the truth would hurt you," but he doesn't realize that the truth is so much more easy for her to digest than having to constantly wonder if he's being honest with her, just to find out he's not. One of the things they bonded over, early on in their friendship, was that they had had their bodies used by others, without their consent, so she thought he understood how important that was for her, and to have him make the same decisions her abusers did, by taking away her ability for informed consent, that's what's killing her. She thought he knew her better than that. Your theories! The "first time" doesn't have anything to do with sex pollen or Hydra. You are definitely close in that he felt disgusted with himself, which has a lot to do why the first time doesn't count. You'll have to wait until Chapter 27 to find out! It really was a happy accident for Jaeger Bomb that the articles happened. She didn't pull any strings, but she absolutely used them to her advantage. If they hadn't come out, she would have most likely come up with some other diabolical plan to get what she wanted. Pocket's going to face some dark times coming up, definitely. There will be a lot of self-destructive behavior and spiraling, but she's not gonna go full-on Thanos or anything (who could blame her if she did, let's be honest). The only person she's really going to hurt, going forward, is herself :( As always, Jnon, it is a pleasure. Thank you so much for bringing such happiness to my days <3 I love you!
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outsiders-owen · 6 months
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So sorry pastry voice. i didn't mean to steal the questions from everyone. i simply got excited. i understand if your upset however.
besides that, im glad i could leave a memorable impression on you Owen! i do talk a lot. but hey! I've got a lot to say!
must be because im a writer.
enough with the attention seeking exposition. I've got more questions! this time i'll spread them out though. don't want to overwhelm you more than i already have. im honestly surprised you manged to answer all of them. maybe demons have better hearing or something.
Ok so!
Apo, how did you feel when you received Owens letter? were you ever going to write a response?
What would it be about?....begging for forgiveness? more lies? an apology? or perhaps addressing that you didn't feel sorry. the fact your so ambiguous about it makes me really invested.
and Owen. are you sure you're fit to be all....power bearing right now? i mean obviously you're supposed to be Superior. but as much as i hate to admit it, you're not acting...healthy. you keep like....glitching out. in cretin responses. i've tried ignoring it but maybe you should talk to Gracie or Soup about it.
also on a similar note. sorry this might be mean but.
Owen. Why did you bring Apo to talk to us if all your going to do is cover and try to speak for him. its like you don't want him here. its like you don't want us to defend him. its like you....well....you'll see.
or maybe you wont. with the way things are looking now more voices seem to want you to....fix things.
I can't say im one of them. im only here for the story, and stories need conflicts.
oh my! i've said quite a lot haven't i? of course i still have more to say. i always do but! ill save it for another time. and watch as you two squabble over these messages.
One last thing however, Apo. you're in good hands. Owens is the strongest member of the clearing after all. No one can hurt you now.
-Salt voice :D
(PLEASE IGNORE THAT I FORGOT TO HIT ANON ON THE MOST RECENT LAST VOICE MESSAGE.)
Oh, it's Salt Voice! Back for more, I see.
Oh my gosh, this is such a long- you've said so much- um- it's cool that you're a writer! What do you write about??
Wait... you're asking about Owen's letter.
I thought-
Let me answer their questions, yeah?
...Okay.
I was going to write a response to Owen's letter. I was going to tell him pretty much how I feel about the whole situation- that I'm sorry for lying to him and I hate how it destroyed our friendship, but that I would pull the lever again because someone was going to do it at some point, right? And better me to live with the guilt than any of the people that I care about.
I was going to apologize and ask Owen if we could keep up correspondence, and eventually, I was gonna convince him to get me out of that- that cell. Guess I didn't have to do that, though.
...Guess not. Um, Salt Voice, I'm- I'm perfectly healthy, I'm not- I'm fine! I keep telling you, it's f ff f finnneee eee e
That doesn't sound fine.
Apo, shut up! I can't- ugh. Glitching out? I don't- talk to Soup, I can talk to Soup, I trust Soup- does she deserve that? Does anyone deserve my trust?
Owen?
Is any of this worth it? I didn't- I brought Apo to talk to you guys s̸̡͎̣͔̙͇̖͔̋͑̅͌̍̇ơ̵̪̌͂͊̏̉̈́͊ ̴̧̢̘̹͚̼͖͌̔͂͌ỹ̵̯̬̮͉̫̇̔̅̈̓̌̅̃̐ȏ̵̢̞̰̬͐͌û̵̯͙̟̖̆͂̏ͅ ̶͖̬̹̈́̄��̘̠͚̝͎w̶̨̨͉̥̲͔̲̱͚̺̻̘̲̱͚͆͐̐͗̕͠o̷̢̩̞̰͉̭͇̩̜͍̟̖̰͍̾̈͌͂ǘ̴̢̧͕̫̰͕͕̪̹̣̘̾̌̽̽̈́̈͝͝l̴͔͖̳͕͒͌̇̚͝d̸̛̮̻̗̗̰͂̀͗̅͌̎̃̏̊͝͠ͅn̷̛̯̳̫̟͕̯͉̽̚̕͜͝'̷̟̬͈̖̤̮̩̪͚̳͑͑̏̆̄̀̊̀͐̃̅̀̐̕ẗ̴̠͓͉͔̬̺̣̗̗̲̞̽ ̷̳͖̯̎̽̽̑̔͌͒͒͝͝͝ĺ̷̢̢̢̢̡̛̛̼͕̜̭̯̦̜͎͕͖͛̌̽͗́͒̋̈̎͑̅̉ĕ̷̡̳̺̖̱̪͕̭̥̥͖̳̈́̍̏̊́̑̽a̴͉̗͕͕͇̙̙̖̞̯͛̃v̶̛̯̪͈̞̯̑̓̓͋͛͐̅́̕̕ę̸̥̘̮͉̞̤̻͓̻̭͇̱̭̏̇̆̄͌͑̈̒̇̅̓̐̄̀͝ͅ ̷̨̡̛̘̯͎̦̈́̈́́͌̊͌̓̓̓̐͝m̷͖͉̔̄͆́͒̍e̵̡̳̗̲̠͎̞̯͍̋̔̒͂̈́̈̔̀̒̿̏̿̚̚͜, so you wouldn't get bored and abandon me and= I don't- I want him here- I think I do at least- I don't- I can't-
My brain's so jumbled up, everything's so jostled around, there's a voice that's not like you Voices, it's different, i̷̗͌̊̎́̓́̀̂͘͜͝͠͝ẗ̶̛͎͙͚̥̬͊̿̊̄̎͛̅̕͘ ̵͈̰̪̬̼̪̭̈́̽͑̈̐̋̉͗͗̚͘͜ͅs̸͇̩̜̞͙͕͉͉̬̠̪͎̝̯͛̇̂̎̈́̐̕̕ò̶̭͓̼̀̋̇̈̿̆̐̚͘u̸̧̫̻̬̮͙͖̞͒͗͛̽ǹ̵̢̡͇̹̝̟̀͠d̶̨̧̘̭̱͎̼͖͔̞̤̜̦̑͊͋͝s̵̡̧̛̮̩͇̖̈́̐̓̈͂̃̓̎̒͊̂̕͝ͅ ̷̧̞̳̜̬͔̖̖̘̩̗̩̯́͛̈́̀̎̀͋͋̈̔̏̇̑͘͜͝l̷̡̡̖̫̗̳̥̫̟̯͚̽ͅī̷͔̈́̔͗́͌k̵̳̮̣̟͇̱̺͍̪̬̖̳̞͗͛͊͆̿͜ȩ̴̧̹͎͚̯̬̱̱͍̣̜͓̹͒̈́ͅ ̵͙̲̖̮̘͚̟̰͈͇̻͍̦͐̃̅̉͌̀̈́͆̂̕͜͝͝m̸̦̖̬̦̂̈́̐̉͑̀̓͂͘ê̴͚͙̻͚̯͙͇͜
And I keep remembering stuff but then it's gone, it's gone in a flash and I don't know if that's good or bad because I always feel like throwing up after I remember. I don't- I can't-
Owen?
S̸̡̢̨̨̛̱̩͔̳͕͈͈̰̦͕̘̞̰͉̼̀͛̽̄̍̆́̏̄̓͆̒̅̎̊͒̑̎̔̑̕̕̕͠H̸̢̨͇͔̮͎͇̲̝̬͕̗̙̠̘̺̺̻̟̘̬̀̈́͌̀́̔̿͛̅͋̂̑̄̒̓͐̒̚͝͠Ų̶̝͇̪̪̘̭̳͛͐͑̽̈̚̚T̶̡̛̲͚̣͙̉̇̾̐͑̈́̌̀͒̈́̅̽̌̕͝ ̵̡̧̗̬̱͖̥͍̙̲̎̈̾̔̀̂͜Ų̸̧̩̯̙͇̘̥̙̥̤̣̻̝̟̪̞͇̊͋̋̃̀̓͗̋̉̓̆̈́̄̔̄̍̈̉̊̕͜ͅͅP̸̛̦͚͎̪̯͙͇̬̙̥̺̟̗̝̣̉̔̔͗̀̄̿̀̏͆̂̈͐͊̉̾́́͐̽͘͘̕͝͝ͅ
S-sorry-
No, no no nonononono- it's not you, it's not you, I can't- I can't- I can't do anything, it's all messed up, my head hurts-
Owen- okay, just let me- let me help you? You're yelling, man. People are going to come check on you and then I'm going to be found. Please quiet down a bit
Į̷̡̧̘͈͕̼͉̬͕̪̺̲̻̻̣̃̽̽̾̆̓̃͂̂̎̅̀̔̑̑́̚ ̵̡̤̲̥͈̖̾̂͐̂̌̍͋̽͂̓͛͆́̄̄͂́̌́̒͒͑͘̕͝͠͝C̶̡̡̲̳̮̬̦͇̣̹̞͈͓̱̳͉͈͒͆̈͐̾̆͜A̶̼̻̲̙̗̗̤̜͖̒̂̒͊̃̃̐̒̅̎̀N̷̨̛̞̦̳̩̰̬̩̥͇̠͔̦̗̪̙̳͇̘̺͐͂̒͊̂̈̿̂̂̀̈́͋̈̊͘͘̚͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅ"̵̗͚̯̼̯͇͖̬̫̲͕̞́̀̈́̔̀̄́͐̊́̽̌̂̚͝ͅͅŢ̵̨̨̛̻͓͕̻͈̦̲̘͈̬̳͉͎͕͖̰̤̌̀͊͐̉͂́͌͑̉̄͌̔̏̑̐́̋͛͌̊̈́͜͠
Owen, please.
i̶̢̜͕̮̩̯̿͐́̾̔̃͜͠ͅ ̴̡̲͈̱̤͕͕̟̗̪͈̜̭̭̦̰̱̱̼̳̓̈́̋͐̒͌͝c̶̢̯̲̝̩̱͈͈͒̾̽̂͋̾̍̒͋̀͗͋̆̆͜͝a̶̡̡̢̧̱̳̼̣̪͎͙̦̝̓̈́͂̍́͂̂̏́̈́͘n̴̛̛͚͖̰͙̂̒̍̉̐̏̿̔̈̈́̆̈́͝͠͝ţ̸̡̛͙̻̲̲͖̟̞̣̮͇͉̅̅́̓̏̃̎͜͝-̶͍̟̰̹̭̞͊̌̆͋͋̈́͊́̉̚̕͝ͅ
Owen, you're scaring me.
...
Are you okay now?
Yeah- shoot, I'm- I'm sorry, Apo- I...
You wanna go get some rest? We can talk about this in the morning?
I- okay. Sounds good.
I'll go back to my hole then?
You can just pull up a bed if you want. If you're not afraid of getting caught. I don't mind.
Yeah- yeah, sure, alright.
Okay.
Goodnight, Owen!
I missed you so much.
Didn't quite catch that, sorry...?
...It doesn't matter.
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m00n-pr1sm · 1 year
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despite me having a 60 slide presentation that is 9k words titled “morgana pendragon did nothing wrong”, I do in fact! think she has done bad things. the main gripe I have with everything is how genuinely shitty her development is, like this point has been hammered in a million times atp and I’m probably not adding anything new to the convo but let me rant, one day I’ll write a polished explanation or whatever but I’m just annoyed + me explaining why she’s not a good person :3 + my thoughts
I think morgana is a wonderfully established character, she’s someone who was willing to stand up for what she believed in and actively call out uther’s actions; as well as being willing to cross morally questionable lines to achieve what she genuinely thought was for the best. she was complex and honestly so interesting in the earlier seasons, we saw her struggles and genuinely empathized with her desire of acceptance and the fear of persecution. Also girlie had nightmares constantly like I can only imagine how tiring that shit is. but then s3 happened and her development took a complete nose dive! like I understand why she did what she did in s2e12, I think it’s a fine episode but I do wish they established the morgana + morgause relations better than they did in canon, like if you’re going to make a character do a complete 180, at least show the time period between that? because morgana was so clearly shaken but what she had done in s2e12, she had shut down basically and was struggling to cope with what she had done through the entire episode. Like I’m sure you could fill in the gaps but it’s just poor writing, show, don’t just imply that morgause became this figure in morgana’s life that she held up with such reverence and how she basically absorbed her values to just become this hollow antagonist that just has silly little schemes every episode in s3. like we already established how she had a desire for acceptance we should’ve show morgause grow into that. Also the fact that she brings up the poisoning like one time??? and never had any heart to heart with Merlin? Like I get that she was too unwilling to compromise on her values (and she’s ne polr-) but it’s far too quick of a shift in her character. She went from feeling immense guilt of her actions to smugly wanting Camelot to fall, like at least show some ambivalence or some kind of self doubt if you’re going to make her turn to evil off screen??? I’ll probably always be upset that they removed that scene in s3e13 where morgana was like “I felt like a monster (bc of my magic) and morgause was the only one there for me”, like that simple line, while implied w/o that scene, just has a lot of depth to her and explains it explicitly (also I feel like that would be the last thing to break uther so yeah I wish they didn’t delete that one). circling back, but I actually really love s3e05 (it’s one of my faves) because it just expands so much on how much she genuinely wants to be loved and how volatile morgana has become to rejection; like she is genuinely so desperate. I think from then on, morgana sorta imprints the idea of being “uther’s daughter”, thus trying to fit herself into that role (but that is very much a headcanon). From s3+ her mission is just “I want to kill Arthur (and emyrs) so I can be queen because I deserve it” but it’s totally about her bringing magic back! I think she comes to see Arthur as nothing more than an extension of uther (something that she does call him out her in earlier seasons) but I also believe that there is envy there! because he recognizes him as her son ofc but denies morgana of that, so she seeks to destroy what she cannot have (sx4???). of course her whole pursuit of emyrs which is just born of self-preservation. I actually appreciate s4 morgana bc of the fact that she’s is more vulnerable than in s3, like she’s just a lonely fool in the woods w/o any real friends bc she’s lost them all. and she contemplates sometimes. silly. also I like that we got a slight taste of distressed morgana who always sought out reassurance in s4e13, like girlie needs someone to tell her that’s everything will be okay and that is why morgwen is the best ship ever + why she is so emotionally volatile bc she is w/o that
Although I do wish they focused on her skill of social engagement, like she had so many ally ships and a clear ability to read and manipulate emotions, but whatever ig. It’s sad to see how much her world has really changed and her world view being so messed up and so black and white (like she also was pretty polarized in the earlier seasons but like those values she held made more moral sense + she felt guilt) also I think it’s important to bring up how her talking to emyrs in s4e06 being like “Arthur will never accept you, magic will only come back once I rule” as a play to distract him. also it’s genuinely so fucked up that she was locked in the bottom of a well for 2 years w/o light or movement like??? That is genuinely such a messed up thing I don’t think the show or fandom talks about enough. It’s literally a complete loss of her agency and freedom which I do believe is something that morgana values a lot, to always do some kind of action, she’s never been a stagnant character and to just. be stuck powerless and immobile for 2 years with the one creature that you’ve bonded with and loved and saw as you’re only campaign, like aithsa saved morgana; just suffer in such a painful and cruel way? LIKE WHY DO WE NOT TALK ABT IT MORE??
I guess I’ll talk abt s5 right now lol or just read my slideshow rant abt one of my gripes lol but yeah the writing takes another nosedive in s5, morgana just becomes really more one dimensional, although I’m glad that they at least addressed her and Gwen’s relationship, albeit in a very messed up way. But yeah her desperation for Gwen finally got the best of her and I truly believe that was the main purpose and not just her being used as a tool for assassinating Arthur. One think they should’ve done more was Morgana’s descent into madness and delusion, like she’s actually unhinged by the final few episodes and ofc that was caused by mordred’s death but I do wish that was just a theme in her character. I suppose it could parallel how uther shut down into numbness but morgana just became increasingly more volatile (it is 2am I am def grasping for straws). One day I write a proper uther and morgana parallels rant. Anyways her death scene is nice ig, she never did get the satisfaction of seeing Arthur die. anyways her entire character from s3+ is the sunk cost fallacy, she’s in too deep and she could never pull out. I haven’t watched bojack but I would’ve loved if they made her like Diane in how she feels like she needs to write her book to make her trauma productive in some way (“if I don’t then that means that all the damage I got isn’t good damage it’s just damage and all those years I was miserable I could’ve been happy this whole time. blah blah “what was it all for?”, from memory so if there’s a mistake that is why). She needs to take out all her years of hurt and rejection and someway by embodying that and doing it to everyone in her life ((for that reason)unconsciously) but I mean it’s not like they really imply that in canon, I’m probably reading too much into it. But yeah she’s selfish and hypocritical. At least she continued in being way too overbearing in her personal judgments (MY ESI WIFE (REAL))
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fluffykitteninabox · 1 year
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Sorry If I'm rude.
¿Why do you think the narrative treats endeavor as a good person deep down?
In my opinion If that were true then I don't think hori would made Endeavor go to AFO instead of going with Shouto and Touya,drawing Endeavor as a demonic shadow that destroyed his family and also looks like some sort of demon that's not even human in Dabi's backstory and have both Shouto and AFO saying how Endeavor is fleeing from his responsability.
Hi anon 🌻🌻🌻
Don't worry, you're not being rude at all 😊
Thank you for the ask, have some sparkles ✨✨✨
I half agree with you in a way. I actually think Endeavor's characterisation is really contradictory throughout the manga.
A "complete monster" half the time and "just a flawed human" the other half. I think that's why the fandom is so divided about him. You either love him or hate him, there's no in between.
Warning: me rambling again sorry, possible spelling mistakes, me dunking on Hawks a little bit, excessive use of italics
As you said there's the parts where he's literally drawn to look like a demon which are mostly from Shouto and Touya's perspectives of their backstories.
But there's also parts like
The hospital scene where we see him crying
Him leaving food at Touya's shrine
Even comedic scenes like him constantly texting Shouto who's ignoring him
These are all scenes where we see him in a neutral/positive light.
In those scenes he's more the dad who's trying to reconnect with his children because he was absent during their childhood.
And If it were just that then I would love to see his redemption arc. But being an absent father is the least bad thing he did in this case.
When he's crying and saying he feels bad about what he did it feels hypocritical to me, but my understanding is that the scene is still trying to make us sympathise with him.
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To me this reads as "the public is wrong to put that responsibility on Endeavor"
As if it isn't actually his responsibility to make the public feel safe not just as the current number one, but as a hero in general. Something which he failed to do.
The fact that people have lost faith in the hero system is first and foremost society's fault, but it only happened because Endeavor was exposed as the worst of what said hero system had to offer.
He represents the exact opposite of what a number one hero should be, so the public has every right to criticise him. He doesn't deserve his position and in my opinion he should have lost it right after the first war.
But instead we get this random doctor saying he's rooting for him. This line has no purpose. It's not there to show us there's still people willing to support Endeavor, because we're going to see that with actually relevant characters just a couple of chapters later.
Sure we get Natsuo and Rei basically telling him to stop whining because he's not the victim here but that doesn't change the fact that the scene of him crying is there to at the very least get us to pity him.
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We get three panels of him apologising and wiping his tears. Plus a close up of him looking even more sad and pathetic and talking about how his heart can't handle the guilt he's feeling, while 4 of his victims are standing in the room listening to him.
Then Best abuse apologist Jeanist and Hawks Keigo victim blamer Takami walk in and declare they're going to provide their full support to Endeavor.
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Because obviously that's the person who needs support the most right now am I right?!
The public giving him a chance to prove himself and Hawks immediately assuming that Enji must be different now and deciding to help him don't make sense to me. Because Enji only started changing a few months before this. He was still the "irredeemable monster" right up until Kamino basically. The public and Hawks don't know that either. Why couldn't Hawks just as easily assume the exact opposite? Why does the public give him the benefit of the doubt after what they just learned? Because he gave a speech in a fancy suit and bowed once?? We see one person criticising him heavily during the speech/broadcast but they are focusing on the wrong thing in my opinion.
The public is portrayed as asking Endeavor and the heroes in general to ignore the accusations and even lie and pretend said accusations aren't true, and focus on defeating the villains. That's not holding the heroes accountable for their actions, that's ignoring half of the problem.
So even if we see people being disappointed with Endeavor, it mostly has to do with his performance as a hero, and not the fact that he shouldn't be a hero in the first place. He gets criticised for the wrong reasons. So I don't count that as him getting a taste of karma. Dabi's dance had the potential to bring said karma, but in my opinion it didn't. Basically me being disappointed about how the story went.
And while yes, characters like AFO are calling him out on his hypocrisy (hate that I have to agree with that bastard!) but the way I see it, the narrative is still coddling him.
He is currently supposedly finally facing Touya, but Touya had to go there himself and force him to do that. But it's still framed as a good character development moment for him, even though he didn't actively make any decision.
Endeavor is a reaction type character when instead he should be an active character.
For his redemption to feel earned he needs to actively do things to make that happen. But instead he actually avoids making decisions until he's forced to. He says he wants to change but it looks more like he's waiting for the change to happen automatically somehow. His "redemption arc" starts with him trying to basically insert himself back into the family dynamic as if nothing ever happened and he hasn't been abusing and neglecting them for the past... more than a decade, until Natsuo calls him out on it. All of his development happens internally, we see his thought process in detail. The first active thing he does is making a new house for his family to live separately from him. Which is... fine, but throwing money at his problems isn't really a good solution
And he's currently only half being held accountable. Again he didn't lose his job over this somehow. The narrative focuses on how he's going to make it up to his family which he's not doing a good job at anyway, and there's no talk about how he really shouldn't have a position of power like the number one hero spot.
I'm not saying we shouldn't focus on his relationship with his family. Obviously the whole point of his character is that he focuses too little on his family and too much on heroics. But him still having his position as a hero after all of what happened seems wrong to me. There's two ways to fix this
He gets fired after the first war. The public demanding that a person like Endeavor shouldn't have a job as a hero makes more sense than them demanding he doubles down and focuses on being a hero. This decision is like chaining his character arc and dragging him backwards.
Or he quits being a hero at the end of the manga to focus on his family, which is what I'm hoping will happen. If he stays a hero at the end of the story I will consider this officially the most botched character arc I have ever witnessed ever! And that's saying something because Hawks exist!
The second option would make him a more active character like I said he should be, but at the end of the story that doesn't really matter.
I hope I explained it well
Basically I just think it's inconsistent writing and Horikoshi deciding midway through the story that he wants to redeem him, because with his early characterisation it's obvious that this wasn't planned.
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nomoreusername · 7 months
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Forgotten
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Pairing: Harriet x female reader
Summary:Just as everything is finally going right with Harriet you stumble upon a secret that destroys everything.
The Safe Haven is paradise. After all, we did everything to make it that way. We fought tooth and nail to get here, and we deserved to finally be safe and sound with our friends. I could finally be with the girl I love.
Until I couldn't. I had gone through document after document. The anger in the pit of my stomach couldn't be described with words that even exist. For hours I had scanned every word as if it could change what I was seeing. Every time it was the same thing. Aris, Sonya, and I weren't mentioned once. Our rescue truly was a coincidence.
"Hey Y/N,"Harriet, the last person I wanted to even lay eyes on, greeted. My hands started shaking as I clutched the papers.
"What do you have there?"She asked, leaning over my shoulder. I shoved them into her hands. She was caught off guard until she realized what she was holding.
"Why don't you tell me?"I spat. She couldn't even look me in the face as she set the papers to the side.
"Well? What are they?"I asked in a lower and colder voice.
"I can explain,"She stated.
"Oh. This should be good,"I scoffed.
"We always planned to save all of you. We weren't going to leave you behind. We just-"
"When were you going to save us? When we were stuck in the city? When we were being tortured day after day? When we were covered in blood? When we were nothing more but bodies in a room? Why don't you enlighten me on when you were coming for us?"I interrupted.
"It was all one plan, and it worked. You're all here,"She defended.
"By coincidence Harriet. Drop the act. I know who your priorities lie with, and it's not the friends who have been there with you for years. It's not your girlfriend who did nothing but love you,"I reminded her. She still didn't look at me, and that was probably for the best. I don't know if I could handle seeing guilt after knowing what I do.
"We risked our necks for those strangers. They could have ruined everything for Aris and I, but we threw ourselves head first into danger to help. Do you know the things we did for them? We're the only reason they're even alive. Did they tell you that?"
"Y/N-"
"No. I'm not done. I have done nothing but love me, and this is how you repay me? Repay us all? I mean Sonya was the one helping clean us up, and she had just gotten out too. She shouldn't have been doing that,"I pointed out.
"Y/N, I promise we were going to get you all out,"She repeated.
"Who's name were you all yelling when you banged on the train?"I asked as more pieces of this messed up puzzle fell into place. I just want it to be a few hours ago when I didn't know this.
"That's not-"
"Who's name were you yelling?"
"We were yelling for Minho because we thought you would all be on the same cart,"She tried to reason. The more she explained the more my rage grew.
"You just assumed? Or maybe we mean nothing to any of you,"I scowled. She snapped her head up to look at me. The tears in her eyes only made this worse.
"Do you want to know how I'm sure we were all a second thought?"I asked. She didn't say anything as she wiped the tears that were finally spilling.
"Ask me how!"I demanded.
"How?"She whispered.
"Because you weren't going to go back for one man so you weren't going back for three. In fact, you weren't even someone who left,"I reminded her.
"I would have for you,"She attempted to assure me. I couldn't stand being around her any longer. Without a word I stormed out of the house to confront the other jerks around here.
"Y/N, wait,"She called, going after me. I didn't bother to answer as I scanned the Safe Haven for them. After a moment my eyes landed on Thomas who had the nerve to be talking with Sonya and Aris.
"Thomas!"I yelled, attracting stares that I ignored. Harriet was still desperately trying to get me to stop.
"Did you think nobody would find out? Do you think we're stupid? Huh?"I asked, shoving him back. He tripped over his feet.
"You are such a fake friend! Do you understand that?! You're a no good, two faced, disgusting, liar!"I yelled. The confusion in his eyes was replaced was fear. I'm normally calm and level headed, but I couldn't be that right now. Everything I thought about them is a lie.
"Y/N, what's happening?"Sonya asked, knowing there was a reason for this anger.
"Here. See for yourself. In fact, here you go Aris. You can have one too,"I snapped, handing them each a paper. They took a look before their expressions changed to what I had first been feeling. Complete devastation and heartbreak at the realization that we were nothing to anyone.
"There has to be more. This can't be it,"Sonya denied.
"I looked through everything. I tore the room apart. This is all there is,"I explained.
"Come on Y/N. We risked our lives for them. They wouldn't leave us. This has to be wrong,"Aris frantically tried to convince himself.
"But they would. Isn't that right Thomas?"I asked, glaring at him. Before he could ask what was happening I threw the rest of the documents at him.
"Operation Minho. Operation save Minho. Step one of saving Minho. Minho, Minho, Minho. Where are we in this? Were you all just going to let us die? Huh?!"I interegated.
"It's not like that,"He tried to assure us.
"Save it. Harriet already said everything I need to know,"I snapped. My friends turned to look at her. All she could do was stare back.
"Do you remember your response when Aris said it took you guys long enough to rescue us? You said it was good to us too. Obviously, you didn't care though."
"Listen to-"
"No! Aris ran at a crank with nothing but a bat to help you guys! I got hit by lightning so Minho wouldn't! You would all be worse than dead without us, and this is how you show you appreciate it?!"I screamed. The entire Safe Haven was dead silent as people tried to put together what was happening. All the attention was on us now. As humiliating as it may seem it also goes towards the people that deserve it.
"I don't care about you though. I care about the fact that the girl I counted on, the girl I loved, the girl I planned an entire future with, decided we don't mean anything. If I don't mean anything to you Harriet then you can have this. I don't want anything to do with it ever again,"I said as I took the ring out of my pocket and threw it at her feet. She picked it up and just looked back at me with pleading eyes.
"I don't want to marry someone who picks strangers over the people who have supported her. I don't even want to date someone like that. We're over Harriet. I'm done,"I promised, holding back angry tears as I walked away.
Even though so many people were involved they don't truly matter. At least I discovered things before I proposed.
If I could go back before I dropped the ring under that box I would though. Seeing two words was all it took to ruin everything, and there's no getting it back.
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"You told me it's not a good idea to self-isolate, right? Well, here comes a shocker - I for once decided to listen to you. *sits on the couch with a pillow in her lap, just having gotten out of bed* I knew you'd be working late at night and I just can't ignore this any longer... I'm not fine, I'm really not. Every time I close my eyes I get flashbacks either from things that have happened to me or that I have done. And what scares me is that I don't even entirely remember what I've caused while under the influence of the Darkhold until someone tells me.
Each passing day my guilt gets heavier and my focus worsens, I can't bring myself to work as efficiently. My magic is wavering. It's like I have become damaged goods. I'm aware that you, as my friend, will deny what I just said, but I really, really needed to let someone know. I just need to know that I can count on you."
@askthechaoticwitch
You can count on me. You're not alone. I....I think it's impossible for anyone to go through the things we did and...not get damaged. The Darkhold manifested the worst of you, and it did the same to me- the other...me. Anyone can become corrupted by that book and do awful things. It was not you. It was not the Wanda I know. That's why I kept trying, until the end, to make you stop...and I understood it was not under your control. Regardless, in the end, you found a way to overcome the influence of the Darkhold...and you destroyed it. Wanda...what you did was very powerful. You dealt with Agatha Harkness...and you dealt with all the pain, all the injustice...all by yourself. Even if you're sure it's all your fault, I don't care. I don't care if you're innocent or not, I don't care if you deserve redemption or not. The fact is...you're my friend, you can get better, you can help protect this reality. I'm not in position to judge you...there's no need for even more suffering...it's...time to rest now. Find some peace. Take a break.
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@askthechaoticwitch
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xinambercladx · 1 year
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"Figment" CH2: Self Sabotage.
Rating: T Characters: Cad Bane, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu Summary: The job went down hill, fast. Perhaps he lost his footing. Perhaps he had wanted to get caught. The difference between laying a trap and laying breadcrumbs was negligible. He was playing a dangerous game. Chapter warnings: child death (Full fic tags in the # section). ----------------------------------------------------
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Apathy is the death of the heart . Guilt is the proof of a conscience.
Green blood dripped on the metal floor. Bane was surrounded by Clone Troopers and two Jedi. He did his best to act calm, but the adrenaline was threatening to spike.
Calm down, Bane told himself. De gig ain’t up yet.
Cad Bane hid his alien visage within the shell of a dead clone trooper. The clones and Jedi were none the wiser. Bane had staged his demise, swapping his attire with that of the clone, Denal. Lucky for him he was only a couple centimeters taller than the clone so the suit fit over him, if a bit loose. He stayed quiet. Unless he spoke, unless his numerous enemies looked down and saw the blood, he’d be fine.
“Well, it looks like the Holocron was destroyed,” Padawan Ahsoka Tano said. “But at least the Separatists didn’t get it.”
Skywalker concentrated, “Bane’s dead but… I can still feel him.”
Just don’ look down, boy, Bane thought.
“That was close, Master,” Ahsoka Tano said.
Skywalker replied testily, “And if we had jumped off to retrieve the Holocron, we wouldn’t have made it."
“I know, but I didn’t! And you wanted to go after the bounty hunter,” Tano pouted, “I just wish we could have at least gotten the Holocron back. Master Ropal deserved that much.”
“It’s out of Bane’s hands, and the hands of whoever hired him.”
Dock already, Bane thought. The momentum of the Sheathepede transport shuttle shifted. ‘Bout time. The shuttle landed on its four extended, stilt like legs. The door lowered and the two Jedi exited alongside an astro mech.
“… now that he made it off this time,” said a clone to another clone. “Hey, Denal,” the clone said, slapping a gloved hand on Bane’s shoulder. Bane tried not to wince. “Good job frying that bounty hunter.” The clone left down the ramp.
“Yeah!” agreed another who followed and said as he passed Bane, “Let’s get some grub. You hungry?”
Grub? Bane thought, confused. Oh. Food. He means food.
One of the clones in the back, who had removed his helmet, waved him off, “Yeah, I’ll catch up.”
Bane followed them off the ramp but turned left. He made it maybe ten meters before he heard, one of the clones call out to Skywalker, “General! Something I think you should see.”
Not good, Bane thought. He resisted the urge to quicken his pace. He squeezed his arm tightly, trying to stop the blood from trailing more. He was feeling lightheaded, not only from blood loss, but also the entire ordeal. He heard little footsteps behind him.
“Hey, trooper!” Tano called, “Are you alright?”
Not good, Bane thought, still walking.
He heard the girl mutter, “Must have been hit in the head…”
In de arm. By you, Bane thought. I’ll be sure to not let you deflect blaster bolts at me next time, kid. Suddenly the girl was in front of him, blocking his path.
“Wait! Your injured!” she exclaimed.
Not good, Bane thought, hesitating.
“That might be serious,” Tano said with concern, taking his arm for a better look. He would have felt touched by that concern, if not for his own deception, and the fact she was the one who caused the injury. The green blood she found quickly changed her tune. “You’re no clone…” she realized, looking at his stolen helmet in shock.
“AHSOKA!” Skywalker called out, running from the shuttle.
Gig’s up, Bane thought. He didn’t have time to fight two Jedi, especially in his current state. He slammed his knee into her stomach, knocking the wind out of the Padawan. She collapsed, clutching her middle, gasping for air. He went to an all out sprint across the docking bay of the Venator starship. The damn shoes pinched his toes with every step, and the older Jedi was hot on his heels. He headed straight for the star fighters, lined in a perfect row. Two yellow vested crewmen attempted to thwart him boarding. Bane removed his backpack and swung it. The hefty durasteel pack knocked the first clean upside the head and the clone went down. Continuing the momentum, Bane swung a right hook into the other, which also fell. He climbed aboard and hopped into the cockpit. Just as he switched on the engine, Skywalker jumped aboard the wing during take off. Bane flew and turned the fighter toward the docking bay exit. He saw movement and suddenly Skywalker tore his helmet off, unmasking him.
Picking up speed, Bane jostled the stick. The fighter obeyed, jostling the Jedi. Skywalker did not falter, but merely flipped over the cockpit and landed on the other wing with ease. Bane flew the fighter out past the energy shield. Skywalker wisely jumped off as not to wind up getting spaced. Free of the Jedi, Bane looked for the hyperspace controls as the wings lowered into flight position. They were inactive. This type of fighter required a docking ring, he remembered, and quickly punched in the activation command. He followed Venator’s causeway to a cluster of rings ahead. The first ring was released and launched upward, readying departure. The lights blinked on and the fighter’s tail rose and locked into place, just as the fighter connected with the ring. The engines hummed. Stars stretched.
So long, Jedi, Bane thought, now safely away in hyperspace.
Cad Bane guided his stolen ship to a nearby moon. The stop was only brief enough to disable the tracking beacon, which was much easier to find than it should have been. Following a suspicion, he searched a bit more and found a secondary tracker. He disabled that too. Once back in orbit, he considered places in which to store the Holocron and contact his employer. The hideout on Tatooine was too far out his way, however the Rogue Antar System was half the distance, and he had a hidden base of operations there he hadn’t used in a while. He punched in the coordinates. It would be hours before he would arrive. While deactivating the tracker, he had found a medical kit. He reached below the seat and pulled it out. He set the box on his knees with relief. Bane let his head hit the back of the chair and he took a long breath, blinking. He didn’t let himself close his eyes.
The stolen armor of the clone, Denal he had been called, made Bane look more muscular than he was. It was roomy for the thin Duros and was easy to slip on in time for the escape. He slipped the bracer off and grimaced. The Padawan named Ahsoka Tano had deflected a bolt from his own blaster and hit his arm. It had stopped bleeding, but his tussle with Denal and the other clone trooper had reopened it. The dripping blood had nearly given him away. Humans have red blood, he reminded himself. He rolled up the black under suit sleeve. The wound had stopped bleeding again. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it might have been. His own bracer mostly protected him. He was thankful for this given that his custom LL-38 pistols were more powerful than most and could have done more damage. Bane soaked gauze in a cleaning solution and wiped away the dried blood from his blue skin, which was already bruising. Once clean, he looked for ointment. To his surprise he found a small canister of bacta spray.
“Dey actually spend money on bacta for common pilots? No wonder dey’re always complainin’ about funding issues in de Senate…” Bane shook his head. He popped the cap and made a test spray onto the wound. It was cold, but had a nice tingle. He sprayed again more generously. More cold, more tingles. He waited for the microorganisms to soak in and work their magic. The cold and tingles dissipated and the pain slowly lifted. He raised a brow. He had forgotten how wonderful bacta was. He had used it before, of course, but lately he had reasoned against the expense. Bacta was rare and expensive even before the War, but now it was being hoarded by both sides. Access outside of armed forces was limited to hospitals and the rich and powerful. Zaltin Corp and Xucphra Corp were the sole manufacturers of the miracle substance on the planet Thyferra. With rising demand, a neutral political stance, and a monopoly on the outsourcing, the two corporations increased the prices tenfold. Bane capped the bottle and grabbed bandages. The bacta would heal the wound in no time, but a lifetime of treating wounds forced him to finish the process. He wrapped fresh gauze around his forearm. Half an hour later, the pain had ceased entirely.
No longer in pain, his exhaustion took over. The venture on and above the planet Devaro had been a long twenty seven hours. He had orchestrated the largest task force of his entire career. The Sith Lord had given him access to a battalion of battle droids and even a battle cruiser, and Bane had even hired more bounty hunters for extra help taking the surface. The bumps and bruises were numerous from fights with not one, but four Jedi. The blurred starlight lulled his eyelids to drooping. The tired Duros drifted off to sleep, dreaming of fields of grass waving in the wind...
Several Weeks Later.
Bane was surrounded. For once, the Jedi had outmatched him. Two of them questioned him for hours. One was Obi-Wan Kenobi, a bearded man he had outrun once before earlier in the assignment. He seemed prim and proper like a stuck up nobleman. The other was Mace Windu, whom he hadn’t tangoed with before. He seemed even more high and mighty with self righteous arrogance. Both of them were furious, despite their precious code. They hid it well, but Bane could tell it was only boiling under the surface. Force sensitive types were always unhinged, emotionally stunted, prideful.
He tapped his finger pads together, reviewing his capture in his head.
The job had quickly turned from bombastic to sneaky. He went from laying siege to fortresses to kidnapping innocent children. When Sidious had told him that, Bane was almost flabbergasted.
“Kidnapping innocent children? Dat seems like a small time crime for the likes of you,” He had told the Sith Lord.
“Amongst the Jedi, there are no innocents,” Sidious defended, as if he truly believed that.
“Sure, sure,” Bane replied, withholding the disgust and disappointment from his voice. “As long as I get paid, makes no difference to me.”
Bane himself had never hurt the children, only delivered them to Mustafar on Sidious’ instruction. There they would become test subjects for the Sith Lord. Bane had chosen the children at random upon activating the Holocron. The first two children were easy enough to kidnap. He had simply walked in wearing a cloak from one of the Jedi he had killed on his first assignment for Sidious. The first child was a Human baby girl from Antilles, less than a year old. The second child was a Durosian grub, maybe less than two. He delivered the girl first. Then the Duros grub was delivered to Mustafar later. The place stank of sulfur and made the eyes sting. He didn’t blame the Duros grub for crying, but was glad to be rid of it.
Cad Bane was met at the entrance by a femme programmed service droid. The droid beckoned him inside this time. It rolled ahead and led him further into the dimly lit facility. The unsettling feeling was everywhere. It made his hackles go up. The pyramid walls bent inward as it reached the ceiling, pressing down on him. Even indoors the scent of ash and sulfur hung in the air. Leave it to a lava planet to smell like hell itself. His lip twitched above his fangs. He couldn’t help but feel … watched. It seemed every shadow could contain the cloaked Sith Lord. He half expected Sidious to appear out of one, puppet master hands ready to take the child from him. Instead, it was the droid who reached out. He handed the kid off and the droid placed it into a poor excuse for a crib. Made of metal and thin cushion, it did little but confuse the child. Its little blue hands pulled at the blanket.
“Ahhh… another test subject. Excellent.”
That voice. It grated his ears. Bane turned behind him, not surprised after all to see a full sized hologram of Darth Sidious projected from an R4 type astro mech.
“Two more remain, Bounty Hunter. You have served me well. Perhaps this one will fair better. I have high hopes with this one.”
Cad Bane crossed his arms, “I’ll be treadin’ more careful now. The Jedi will catch on soon enough. Don’ wanna push my luck.”
“There is no such thing as luck,” Sidious replied flatly. “There is only the Force.”
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“Dispose of the failure. Begin preparation for the procedure on the new child.”
Bane stopped. Dispose of the failure? One of the droids spoke words of obedience. The hum of the holoprojector ceased. His mouth went dry. He had done his job. He delivered the kid. Sidious had said they were to be test subjects, but he didn’t think… he wasn’t paid to think, not about the outcome of assets. He wasn’t paid to care. Among the Jedi, there are no innocents. The words crawled across his eardrums.
“Excuse me, Bounty Hunter Bane,” said a droid behind him. Bane moved out of it’s way, and froze. In the droid’s cold, robotic arms was a tiny bundle, about the size of the little girl.
He stopped a gasp. He heard the motors of the R4 unit behind him. He was being watched. He knew it. This was the Sith Lord’s lair. The man only trusted him so far. The shadows in the corridor held countless horrors here. That unsettled feeling had been his gut warning him, his skin crawling with the knowledge of danger in the air. Cad Bane forced himself to follow the service droid. The R4 followed him in turn.
Tiny screams echoed from behind him. Duros screams. The procedure had begun. The test subject being subjected to pain. His legs screamed to run. The bounty hunter kept walking. The grub screamed again. He kept walking. The screams faded behind him. The corridor stretched in front of him. The droid ahead of him exited the hatch. He followed. The R4 unit followed him. The door closed behind them with a hiss and a lock slammed down. He forced himself not to jump. He wasn’t out of the lava pits yet. He headed for the Xanadu Blood, the custom Rogue Class Starfighter he had requested as payment for this very job. Bane headed for the ship, trying to ignore the droid that headed for the edge of the platform. He tried to ignore the robotic eye watching his every move. He tried to ignore seeing from the corner of his eye that the droid callously dropped the tiny bundle over the edge.
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The calm, yet angry voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi snapped him to the present. He sat at a cold table, handcuffed and bombarded with questions and accusations.
“We know you’ve taken at least two children. Where are they?”
“Beyond your reach,” Bane replied, telling a truth. Two children would never be found. The other two however…
“Who are you working for?” Mace Windu demanded for the eighth time.
A madman, Bane thought. “I work alone,” Bane telling a truth. The contract had been completed. He was for-hire again.
“It’s only a matter of time before we locate the Holocron,” Kenobi said. He leaned forward for emphasis, “Make it easier on yourself.”
The way his human eyes narrowed wasn’t a very good veiled threat. The Duros would have laughed, instead he mocked the man, “What are you goin’ to do, Jedi? Torture me?” Den you’d be just like dat no good Sith Lord. Just as low as me, torturing your Jedi friend, Ropal.
The bald human, Windu, stood in a dramatic fashion in front of the exit of the holding cell, a dark silhouette in front of a golden energy shield. He said gravely over his shoulder at the bounty hunter, words slow and careful, “I think the fear of whoever you work for outweighs your fear of us.”
The Jedi hit that right on Bane’s nonexistent nose. The screams of the Duros child echoed in his mind. If the Sith had been willing to torture innocent children…
“This conversation is over,” Bane said, sitting back in his chair. The Jedi left him.
The clues were all there. They just had to use their brains instead of relying on the Force. Or was Bane overestimating their competence? Perhaps Skywalker would figure it out. He was a clever one, bold, and had pursued Bane in unprecedented ways. All the young man had to do was look closely over his fighter jet.
‘Xanadu Blood’ he had named it, not knowing he would have the blood of children on his hands. No. He did know. He had just never seen the results of his captures, no, kidnappings before. Nearly thirty years of bloody work. After his third trip to Mustafar he fired up the engines and had returned to the Black Stall Station, eager to rid himself of the sulfur smell from himself and the star fighter. As if it would wash those sins away. The Duros child was nowhere to be seen in the room of four cribs.
“Another failed test subject,” the Sith Lord had lamented.
The last two children were delivered. The job was completed. Cad Bane had fully intended giving his ship a thorough cleaning, wax job and all. Unexpectedly, Sidious contacted him again before he could do so. He offered extra pay for an additional child. Bane wanted to be rid of this client. Kidnapping children was beneath his skill set. He was insulted. He was disappointed. He was angry. He was tired of not being able to sleep at night… But he had accepted the assignment because that was his motto. Once paid his fee, he’d take any job, right? At least, that’s what he led Sidious to believe. That’s what he had fooled himself to believe. After wiping his nav computer he moved to his fuel computer and his hands merely hovered above the deletion routine. The monitor prompted two options.
Fuel Records. Deletion confirmation required:
CONFIRM? CANCEL?
He considered the question. He considered his options. Bane moved his padded forefinger from above CONFIRM and pressed CANCEL. The monitor lit green and returned to the normal menu, fuel records intact. Bane closed the fuel system back up and left it untouched. He left the ash and sulfur untouched. He put both hands on the fuselage and breathed out. His ship was as a pile of filth, just like himself.
When he went to Naboo, he fully expected the Jedi to be there waiting. He sneaked into the Gungan household, a giant plasma bubble construct. He sprung the trap. The Padawan Ahsoka Tano popped out from her hiding place. Just as he had sworn to himself, he disarmed her before she could deflect another blaster bolt at him. He made for an escape, ran into Skywalker and fought him too and rocketed away. The Jedi caught him. His boots failed and they both fell to the ground. He was captured. He was led away in handcuffs, just as he intended.
“You’re daughter is safe now,” Ahsoka had told the Gungan mother.
Cad Bane snarled, furious, “Do you really believe that?!” Those Jedi fools had no idea. If they didn’t act fast the last two children would be dead too.
And he was still here sitting at a cold table being interrogated, and waiting for them to figure it out. Bane couldn’t give the answers away easily. He had his pride. Also, the Sith Lord would suspect betrayal. He was playing both sides. The difference between laying a trap verses laying breadcrumbs was negligible. The bounty hunter tapped his fingers again, his mouth absent a toothpick to chew. The golden energy door opened and four grim-faced Jedi stepped down into the cell. The unsettling feeling returned. The Duros’ skin prickled. The sense of danger returned and there was nowhere to run. ----------------------------------------- Chapter Links: Chapter 1 Next Chapter
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the-nysh · 2 years
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I know this is just me, and it's a pretty harsh thing to say, but tbh I really hope that this event would haunt Saitama throughout the story post-fight. ONE has the annoying tendency to have his protagonists to be mostly peachy after harrowing, gruelling experiences (Mob was literally tortured for 6 months) esp when this is such an unprecedented thing for Saitama.
Garou would likely get mental scars after being literally fucking possessed against his will, but at least he can take comfort in the fact that the atrocities he committed in that state of mind was due to someone else. Saitama would get no such excuse. For someone who could move faster than speed of light, who is literally on a galaxy level strong, it was still his partly his fault. It may have been God's will, it may have Garou's fist that tore the core out, but it was Saitama's carelessness that got him killed. There was no excuse when he could've gotten there faster. There's no excuse that he got lost. This guy is a literal god, but his own flaws as a person allowed this to happen. Everything about this tragedy is preventable if he wasn't too complacent
Sure, it's likely that Genos and everyone else comes back. But the thing is, Genos never should have died to begin with if it weren't for him.
Ok wow I do sound like an asshat. Sorry this ask is kinda 60% sincere I just thought this is good dialogue idea for a fic but I sorta yes blame and not blame Saitama for this. Its kinda complicated
Whoa....I understand feelings certainly are complicated, messy, and unstable right now, that if post-arc Saitama shows no lasting mental change or shift towards how he more carefully approaches his heroism or how he treats Genos for example, then I too wouldn't like that. :O Cause while physically Saitama may be peerless, mentally and emotionally he's still imperfectly human. Who still has room to grow/improve as a person and to become a better, more ideal hero. To finally deserve/earn his proper title and recognition one day. But not as he currently is or carries himself, for nonchalantly approaching most disasters like an assured walk in the park - for him maybe, but not when others' lives aren't invincible, and they will suffer if he carelessly makes mistakes in either his heroic conduct or mishandling his power output for example. (That it's frustrating to think if his focus/consideration doesn't last OR if he reverts back to his old unaddressed habits post-arc...so hopefully there IS development here.)
But also whoaaa...you think Garou - the guy who internalizes feelings VERY strongly and already has issues in self-worth, will rest any easier or take 'comfort' in the fact a monstrous god directly violated and used him to eradicate humanity and hurt those he cares about - like Tareo - with his own hands?? Even if Tareo and Bang still accept/understand him afterwards, oh man Garou will probably never forgive himself for that. D: For being made to enact the things he never actually wanted and always hated - especially when he was partly conscious through it all, and has been struggling to assert his agency from within that it was 'all him.' You think he's going to believe 'god did it all' when Garou's own memories and words keep relaying him the actual horror? Whew, now this becomes a level of inescapable guilt and self-hatred he simply can't recover from. Both the original manga route and the wc had Garou become suicidal after this, so just imagine how much mentally worse he will feel - like he's too dangerous/unworthy to be around others anymore or doesn't even deserve to live. Unless he loses/disassociates his most traumatic memories, or Blast takes him to rehabilitate among his space friends as another god victim, or he perpetually lives in isolation as the most 'dangerous' fugitive on earth with a (scapegoat) target on his back slated for execution - when 'god' is still the actual Evil problem few know about. Life prospects to reintegrate into society virtually destroyed. D: No 'easy' future path or excuse for him at all, esp when he's likely alone, and perpetually trapped in the cycle of injustice he's always fought against and hated.
Meanwhile, Saitama will have none of those doomed aspects to worry about, esp if everyone he cares about revives to support him. Other than worrying about how to start over & rebuild his home at the HA's headquarters, how to live with the self-blaming horror/guilt/haunting image of what happened to Genos in his absence (including how to patch his relationship with him, if it changes at all - or if Genos is mentally 'ok' at all either), and learning how to reapproach his job (vs as a hobby) values more seriously with the increased weight & commitment to prioritize properly saving other's lives (over messing around and finding self-satisfying outlets for his boredom). He won't be able to afford living as detached or apathetic (or thinking he's not capable of more emotional engagement) as he had been coasting along before.
However, IF you want to fully explore the effects of Saitama's post-arc emotional + existential angst in a fic (when it's unknown how thoroughly canon will explore that, yes) then go for it!
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