#then it proves just how fucking selfish and self-serving you are

[actual-corpse]

Was gone for a week and a half.

Cats had no water

Trash not taken out

Piss on tub

Shit on toilet

Dishes in sink

CATS. HAD. NO. WATER

I can forgive everything else, it's fucking annoying, what the fuck ever....

BUT THE CATS HAD NO WATER AND I DONT KNOW HOW LONG THEY DIDN'T HAVE WATER

[assblastergaster]

I am finally starting to see the light on just how robust all of the companion origin romances are (i.e. romances within the party outside of tav). While larian obvs had to work with sudden, abrupt story changes and losses, somehow they still managed to make all of their stories so intertwined that all possible romances are good.

Take Karlach for example:

• Wyll: Their stories are literal parallels; They both were following someone with power and influence, yearning to serve them and others to the best of their abilities—and were both discarded after being tricked into (literal) hell. together they provide for each other what was taken without denying themselves what has changed them (more devilish? so be it, i am stronger for it). She will guard what he loves without question—all he's ever tried to do—and he will stand against the forces that served to get them here, all she's ever wanted. They have both been forever changed to be more devilish (scarred, marked, horned, dehorned) but still yearn to thrive amongst their peers to no avail. He will always be a human with fangs and horns, and she will always be a tiefling with no horn(s), no heart. They are each other's only peers, the hunter and the prey.

• Shadowheart: One young girl is torn from the people she loves, her home, the authority figure she serves. She is marred by this person. Her parents are lost to her—she will never get to say goodbye, never get to hug them again. Her peers shun her, believe her dead or worse. Her only friends are lost to her (or so she thinks). She is a half-elf forcibly blinded to the ways of the world, sent on a suicide mission to secure her master's authority. She is a tiefling who has forgotten the joys of the world, escaping a suicide mission meant to secure her master's authority. They were both taught to selfishly strike out against the world to just survive. Together they find something alien to both of them—self prioritization without selfishness (I am not made to serve, i was made to be here. with you).

• Astarion: He is empty of life, cold and buried; She is being consumed by her life, toiling and burned. They were both, for lack of better words, Baldurian hot-shots in their youths. A learned magistrate and the head guard of an up-and-coming Baneite. They were both likely very corrupt. Astarion is obvious—his attack by the Gur was prob in response to prejudiced rulings. But Karlach was working for fucking Gortash. She's not an idiot, and while she certainly has a soft spot for the community, she had to have had a hand in his nefarious doings. Regardless, both of them are still furious about what happened to them, rightfully so—and neither is willing to accept (yet) that the version of them they left behind was not what they want now. They both want revenge, to kill the fucks that stole them away. And they both get it, only to find that they need to make a life after this, not to mourn the life before this.

• Lae'zel: This, like all Lae'zel romances, is a tale of two cities. Lae'zel wants to serve someone so badly, else she cannot prove to others (and herself) that she is worth the air she is breathing. Her culture demands it, history commands it, and she was born for it. But she can't do it. Not blindly. Karlach was a rough and tumble child on the streets of Baldur's Gate looking to eke out her livelihood without serving authority. But she couldn't avoid it, nothing she's good at could make money or earn respect except for serving as a guard, as a soldier. At first meeting, they both immediately respect and pity each other. Karlach likes seeing someone so proud of who they choose to serve, but innately understands that it is not a choice. Lae'zel likes seeing someone strong enough to command respect, but knows that she "should" want to serve someone too. They see themselves in the other. Neither understands, but they will. Karlach will see why Lae'zel is so desperate to belong, to serve—Lae'zel will see why she is too scared to submit.

• Gale: We both have a bomb in our chests. A divine being, omnipotent in all but name, placed it within you and quelled its fire so long as you obey and worship. The most obscene devil, queen of the Hells, ripped me from my home and gave me this, its flame fanned by servitude and snuffed by disobedience. Gale has lost himself to depression, Karlach to rage. He pours through books searching for the answer he will never find, but that's how he got here in the first place. Karlach smashes her way through everything, making ragtag enemies and allies along the way, but that's how she got here. Before anyone says some bullshit about Karlach being too "dumb" or Gale being too "pretentious;" Karlach is not dumb, she is naïve (which lends itself to dumb decisions) but wise. She's led an experience-rich life (encountered through misplaced trust and naivety) and has learned lessons from every single one, something she learns to temper within Gale as well. Gale has done many things but actually learned from very few of them, which is one of the reasons why he's immediately eager for the Crown. But he's also not an idiot, he's just vulnerable. Together, they balance each other emotionally and pedagogically.

Obviously this is focusing on the narrative aspects of these relationships—not the personal intricacies. But the majesty of this writing is that these are all characters written by separate people, forging separate stories with thousands of paths each. It's just unheard of.

[deydenier]

REIGEN. prepare for another can of worms so bad i had to censor some bc it was too personal!

TRANSCRIPT kinda:

ok. reigen. ive said a LOT about him, already wrote a pretty good summary to WHY i like him and why he's a stand up guy who is frustratingly and compellingly human in all the mistakes and fuck ups he made. I like him a lot. of course. i like him in a way that he is my dark mirror. my cautionary tale. as i succinctly put in These Tweets:

"Thinking about reigen again (saying this as if looking at him and thinking about him is peering into the dark mirror of my psyche and how his downfall would be mine lest i change my ways and ideals on becoming a person and what it means to be someone of worth)"

"He is so me (the tone of my voice is that less of admiration and awe and more reluctance and unending doubt on oneself)"

Since this is less meta and more My Opinion on them, let me paint you a picture. because god knows im Not Normal About Him

i am 15. this is the first time ive read and watched mp100. i see reigen, a stand up guy who has good intentions and is a good mentor to his disciple. I go "wow! hes so cool!" unaware of the Nuances of his character, his blatant and obvious flaws of being selfish and self serving, who has made a home in this obviously flawed and bound to fall apart Normalcy he has with mob. I have bought into his lies.

i am 19. i am now a certified Adult (i was very much still immature then) with all the cards to prove it and i still dont get him. he frustrates me. He fucks up in a way that is arguably avoidable, even without the gift of foresight. He's childish at times, immature even, but somehow he always know when to flip the switch. to be more serious. to read the room. i dont get why he keeps his business going when he's completely capable in doing something more lucrative. why couldnt he just do something that makes more sense?

I am 21. I get it now

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 1 - See Me

Marc Spector&Co. x Female!OC, Friend!Matt Murdock

Summery: Everything changed after Marc and Simone moved to New York. Being in a relationship with the Fist of Khonshu proved to be difficult enough without the added obstacles of normal relationships being forced into the mix. With seemingly irreconcilable differences overhead, fate’s plans continue to drive the pair back into each other’s lives, testing their patience, self-control, and new relationships. Is it truly written in the stars, or is it old habits taking over?

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT | Warnings: OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. Alcohol mention and consumption, stalking, paranoia, suspense?, brief age-gap date mention.

Words: 2K

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter List

"Call me selfish 'cause I got me and nobody else Give myself an envelope just like it's per diem  Twenty mirrors in my crib, I'm hangin' with my friends" -"See Me" by Rich Brian

If you had told Simone the year before what her life would be like now, she wouldn't have believed you. A year prior, she was getting settled into New York with the love of her life, starting her new specialty. 

Now? She's waiting outside a brunch place for her blind date to arrive. The date was her friend Jen's idea, as she would have never set up a date on her own. Not right now.

As she leaned against the stone wall of the restaurant, she scrolled through numerous photos of her now ex-boyfriend getting up to wild shit downtown. 

Is it weird to look at pictures of your ex while waiting on your date? She asked herself. Is this me trying to sabotage myself into pining and walking away from this opportunity? Probably so. 

The prospect wasn't lost on her, as it was how she handled things before. Attempt to move on, think about him, go back to him, real vicious cycle shit. Even though Simone could let go of toxic things and people that no longer served her for the entirety of her adult life, there were one to three that were much harder to release.

Catholicism, my mother, Ben, Oliver, my uncle, all those things I had no issue shoving away. Let's grow the list, shall we?

"Excuse me?" Simone's thought process was interrupted by a feminine voice that seemed much closer than it was. She lifted her head and dropped her phone back in her bag to see a dark-haired young woman approaching. They locked eyes for a moment, and the woman smiled. 

Oh, she's cute. Seems sorta young, though. Hopefully, she's not my date.

Before Simone could think back over if Jen had told her the age of her day's conquest, the woman spoke up again. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone. Simone?"

Shit, she is my date. What was Jen thinking? Hot? Big time. But young! What the fuck!

"That's me," Simone said with a nervous smile. "And you are?"

"Kate Bishop." The girl responded with an extended hand. It took a moment, but Simone realized she recognized the name from one of her patients mentioning her. If Kate was his friend, she was just as young as she thought.

The date went well, but the ten-year gap between them lingered over their heads until Simone finally brought it up before she paid for the meal. Undoubtedly, if Simone were younger or Kate was older, they would have hit it off a lot better. They agreed it would pose a problem before they parted ways. 

As Simone left the restaurant, she decided to call Jen.

"So, how'd it go with Kate?" Jen asked as soon as she answered. 

"It went fine, but never set me up with a 24-year-old ever again," Simone said, slightly lowering her voice as she passed by a group of people on the sidewalk next to her. 

She knew it was ridiculous, seeing as Simone didn't seem obviously older, but she couldn't help but cringe at the idea of going any further with a woman under the age of 28, at the very least. It was a matter of letting poor Kate live her best young life. 

Jennifer apologized to Simone and explained that it wasn't something that crossed her mind and wouldn't happen again. As they got off the phone, Simone took a deep breath and let in as much New York air as possible.

Before she left London, she walked every morning. Now, she walks whenever possible, which is easy in the city. When it's too cold for longer distances, she takes the subway and avoids taxis as often as possible these days. 

When Simone turned a corner to return to her apartment building, she ran face-first into a smoke cloud that nearly made her vomit. She used to not mind cigarette smoke and found it comforting in many ways. Nowadays, she can't even so much as stand in the same room as someone with the scent of tobacco on their jacket.

The time turned seven-ish, and Simone arrived at Josie's to meet with her patient slash attorney, Matthew Murdock. Attorney by day, devil of Hell's Kitchen by night. Fifty-percent good Catholic boy, and the rest is a total manwhore. She couldn't blame him, though. He can smell pretty girls from a mile away.

Murdock already had her a seat saved and a glass of water ordered while he waited for her. His idea of "seven-ish" was around 6:50, while her's was 7:05. It was the usual ritual of banter and beverage, their relationship being one of the symbiotic sorts. She provided psychiatric advice for the low-cost fee of Matt being her lawyer if she ever dimmed the lights on the wrong person. 

How they met was nothing to write home about. Simone was new in town and opened her office directly next to his law practice. Her only reason for knowing of Matt's second identity was because they were both bound by privilege, attorney-client, and doctor-patient. 

The other part of the bargain was Murdock's agreement to keep an ear on the street for happenings with Simone's former flame. She knew she didn't need to keep up with him and probably shouldn't, for her own sanity, but she couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for her old friend. 

"Mr. Knight took out a brood of vampires last night. Spared a few of them." Murdock told her as he sipped his beer. 

"Great," Simone said sarcastically. "There's vampires now?"

"Yeah, they're, uh, interesting." He replied with a slight chuckle as she ran her index finger over the condensation around her glass. This subject made her miss drinking, but she lost the taste for it around the same time she grew disgusted with cigarettes. 

"Well, expect Mr. Knight to do away with them soon enough. They directly contradict his belief system." She said, still dead-eye focused on the water gathering along the cup. Vampires attacked travelers of the night; therefore, they were meant to be exterminated. 

Murdock cocked his head at this curiously. "I thought he was Jewish?"

"Spare me." She snickered. "He's the 'high priest' of the 'church of Khonshu' these days. Not really keeping kosher." She paired a few words with air quotes that Murdock could feel but not see. "Hopefully, he's too occupied with the bloodsuckers to show at the gala."

The gala that Simone was referring to was the Hellfire Gala, the second annual, to be exact. It was a big deal in the powered community and hosted by the X-Men to showcase and fundraise. Like any other gala, everyone wears sleek and elaborate attire for funsies. Masked heroes show up masked but extra, and the people who are identifiable go all-out.

Simone didn't get an invite, but Murdock did and pulled his plus-one card to let her tag along. After all, what are friends for if not to get you into exclusive parties? 

"Speaking of, have you picked out what you're wearing?" Matt asked before finishing off his bottle. 

"Yeah, it's getting altered right now. Nothing super fancy, but enough for you to not be embarrassed to have me there."

"I'd probably be more embarrassed to show up by myself, truth be told." Matt joked. As Simone laughed at the comment, his focus turned to the sound of someone speaking on the phone outside the bar. 

Yeah, she's inside... drinking with some douche wearing sunglasses... I dunno, boss. Whatever it is, it's clear. Maybe tequila?

It was a masculine voice, and he couldn't quite make out the voice on the other end of the call. Murdock wasn't a gambling man, but he would bet he was the only person in Josie's wearing sunglasses, which meant someone was watching Simone. 

I'll have to look into this. He thought. 

"I'm ready to call it a night. You?" Matt asked the woman in his company. Simone agreed, and they headed out and down the street with locked arms. Simone knew Matt didn't need a guide, but it became a habit for her to appear to be leading him. 

When Simone got home, she did her usual routine of checking around her apartment for unwanted guests. The bathroom, cupboards, under the bed, in the closet, anywhere someone can hide. Unfortunately, she wasn't a stranger to someone waiting around for her, a fact that Matt didn't know as he suited up to pursue her stalker a block away. 

Once she confirmed the place was empty, she took off the day's outfit: a simple gray t-shirt and black jeans. She realized Kate didn't ask or seem to care about the markings on her face and arms but knew she no doubt noticed them. It was Simone's first date with them present. 

In the shower, she thought back to the dream she had the night before. Every fiber in her body wanted to see, touch, and kiss him, but the way he was before. The man she loved in London was different. She watched him change, slowly morphing from Marc Spector to Mr. Knight before her eyes. 

He accepted his role as his brain was dimpled by the fingertips of a God. First, Khonshu wanted Marc's body, and when he couldn't have that, he tried to condition him to take over the world. Once the dust settled on that charade, Simone had no choice but to leave. That decision was only partly selfish in her eyes because she had more significant issues to sort out. 

Meanwhile, Murdock stalked the streets as his secondary persona, Daredevil, in search of the stranger on the phone at the bar. After several unsuccessful sweeps and an inability to find the voice, he went downtown to the neighborhood with crescent moons painted on the sides of buildings. From there, he listened to the happenings in and around the Midnight Mission. 

His ears were trained inside the building, focused and searching for the voice he heard earlier when his concentration was interrupted. 

"Nice night." The familiar voice of Mr. Knight said, nearly startling Matt but not enough to make it look obvious. The man was behind him in an expensive suit, as usual. Murdock could feel the fabric rub against itself with each moment, each thread giving away the four-figure price without him so much as touching it. "For what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my side of town?"

"Looking for someone that came through here. He doesn't seem to be around anymore, though."

"Description?"

"White hoodie, blue jeans, dark hair, Caucasian male." Matt pulled the depiction out of his ass expertly. 

What the devil didn't know was that Mr. Knight wasn't buying it. He had seen Horns around his congregation numerous times in the past few months but only found a moment to speak to him on this night. He suspected Simone had something to do with him, but what exactly? 

"I'll keep an eye out." Mr. Knight promised. "And give Simone my best, with ya?" 

Murdock knew he had been made but did his best to pretend he didn't know what the man was talking about. As he listened to Mr. Knight walk away, he realized he needed to find a way to explain this to the woman who sent him here. 

[thee-ratt]

You are a Commodity.

Recent events have shown me just how far gone the current population is. Everywhere I look, I see people angry and arguing with each other for reasons that do not justify a single bit of the eventual violence. Violence supposedly does not discriminate, and yet it continues into the Modern Era. The newest form of violence that we all have failed to overlook is the violence of the mind and the destruction of the soul.

The modern conception of pop culture sees the human being as the product, a product that can be shaped and molded into any form so long as they believe in lies. The best example of this I can think of is the overwhelming need for a conflict between the individual vs the collective. Modern society seems to think that to feel valid, we must constantly one-up other people. Social Media and the rise of the influencer on a wider scale have taught people that serving your self-interests 99.9% of the time is the way to go in life. Things like "self-care", while good in concept, are used by most as an excuse to be overwhelmingly selfish and ignorant of the mere thought of accountability.

In reality, the influencer is not an influencer of anything. Most of these large figures are only as real as the brands they are sponsored by, or the niches that they occupy. The audience member does not see these people as human but merely an object of their pleasure. There's a reason why people still cringe to this day when an actor opens up about their own social beliefs, whether they be right or wrong. There's a reason why we still apply the slogan "eat the rich" to these celebrities despite the majority of them only being as rich as these studios and corporations allowed them to be. A lot of rappers owe studio money. A lot of child stars become broken and battered alcoholics and drug addicts by 25. There is no freedom when you become famous, and there is no way to become famous without a transaction taking place.

Our selfishness is rooted in our desires. Desires are not inherently good or bad but can be molded as such with the right materials. Capitalism itself is built on this very notion. Black Fucking Friday is coming up. Why do you think that even exists? Why do people constantly want new clothes even when they already have too many? We have contributed to a society built on ego, and that ego has defined what we see as merit. Colonialism proved that along fucking time ago.

"Manifest Destiny"

"Get your bag"

[hearth-and-veil]

My 29th birthday is this month, so I offer 29 pieces of advice I wish I could tell my younger self:

You spend too much time worrying what other people think of you. They don't.

Go to therapy.

When it comes to friends, four quarters are better than 100 pennies.

There is a huge difference in not giving a fuck and not caring. I can't explain it, but it's there. Give no fucks. Care.

One day, you are going to be so glad that your suicide attempts failed. Hold on for that day.

The five stages of grief are not linear.

Grief is not limited to death. You can grieve over your missed childhood, your lost friends, and your disability.

A Southern accent does not make you stupid or poorly educated. You can spend your whole life hiding it and speaking like you have a stick shoved so far up your ass that it's stabbing your palate, or you can unclench and speak the way you speak. You can't disprove a stereotype by abiding it. Speak. Prove people wrong, so that one day others don't have to hide part of who they are to be taken seriously.

At 20, you spend 1% of your energy on 100 things. At (almost) 30, you're at more like 10% of your energy on 10 things.

It is way more important to actually be a good person than to seem like a good person. Fuck the PC language, fuck the virtue signaling, fuck fear of being cancelled or whatever. Just go live by your values and let your actions speak while you are silent.

No employer will hire you for soft skills, but they also won't keep you around without them.

Atheism does not make you morally or intellectually superior.

You can put yourself first without being selfish. Not existing to serve other people is not selfish.

You can learn to compromise the easy way or you can learn to compromise the hard way, but you're gonna fucking learn.

Filters distort your sense of self and train your brain to be hypercritical. There's nothing wrong with your face.

FUCK monetizing your hobbies and making a career out of your passions. You will start to hate them. Make a career out of something you're good at and can stand the drudgery of, then pursue your hobbies and passions from there.

Yes, that 32 year old is exactly your type but why the fuck does he want to have sex with an 18 year old? He admits he doesn't like you. He admits women his age don't like him. Put 2+2 together and fucking RUN.

High school and college are absolutely not a reflection of the real world or how life will turn out. They are not the best years of your life.

You are just like other girls and as soon as you get over that pick me ass bitch phase, you will make some incredible girlfriends and your life will be so much richer.

You don't need to keep a wall up between your heart and the one who loves you. Love is terrifying, but it hurts more to keep him out than to let him in.

You have always had an incredible moral compass. You will lose friends over that level of discipline. But you will also have friends who love that about you, even when it applies to them.

Stand on your convictions no matter which way the wind blows. Listen to the arguments presented and analyze them within your moral framework. Tolerance does not mean blindly going along with anything other people say.

Enjoy drinking while you can because you're going to go from drinking men twice your size under the table, to death by hangover after three pints.

Being raped was not your shame. It's his.

You need an influx of different ideas around you. Echo chambers are dangerous and they create a mob mentality. They make people downright nasty. Spending time around and listening to people you disagree with is not an endorsement of their ideas; it's an endorsement of critical thinking and civil exchange.

Red Bull and Slim Jims IS NOT BREAKFAST.

People harp on about water, fresh air, sunshine, and taking walks because you actually do need all of those things. Trust me, you'll feel better if you slither out from under that rock and move a little.

Speak to yourself how you speak to the ones you love. Treat yourself how you treat the ones you love. Give yourself the grace you give the ones you love.

Choose joy. Choose to burn the special candle, choose to wear your favorite perfume every day, choose to put on your tiaras whenever you feel like it, choose to wear what you want, choose to paint your walls something wild, choose to stay up until 3 at a bonfire, choose to sleep the next day in your hammock. You only have this life, so choose joy.

Again, this is advice I would give myself. If it doesn't apply to you, then it doesn't apply to you. But I have always found wisdom in listening to what people would say to their younger selves. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.

[campbluelake]

St. Michael Vanquishing Satan // Hibiki // MM trial vote react

Hibiki has been quiet for the entirety of the Q&A session, lazing on the pew and waiting for everything to unfold for him. He doesn’t feel the need to ask questions since others do that for him, and he doesn’t feel like he has anything he wants to know; he has decided the answers for himself. Abbie is a demon who wants to collect them like little puppets. Malyce facilitated the game. He knows all he needs to make informed decisions. 

But most of all, he’s been quietly annoyed at how well he understands both Malyce and Abbie. He once wanted so much, and he, too, has lost; he knows what drives people to desperate acts, because he himself is desperate. 

He’s greedy, selfish, self-centered, and frightened of never standing out, his greatest fear being the “told you so” of those around him who would like to see him fail to prove their point. Just like Malyce. 

He’s lonely and has been carved hollow from the inside out by loss, left to suffer raw and in agony, to die a slow death. He lost his entire family, and though it was by his own hand, that only serves to sharpen the thorns. Just like Abbie. 

But you can understand people and not accept their deeds. You can be sympathetic but not feel any empathy, and if Hibiki considers himself a horrible person for all he has done… well, he isn’t giving either Abbie or Malyce a pass, either. This whole thing, this game, the Eden business… that all needs to be over and done with.

When the wishing well appears in the center of the town square, Hibiki gets up, tail swinging behind him lazily as he votes. He walks up to it, and looks up at both Abbie and Malyce, winking. 

“I don’t need to even tell the future to know what the outcome will be.”

He drops his vote in the wishing well. 

“I think it’s about time we burst your little bubble for your own good, Abbie, and I think you also better consider a career change, Malyce. Because there’s no way in hell I’m not going to walk out of here with my friends, and there’s no way in hell I will ever let some demons tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do with my life - or death - again.”

[rametarin]

Mom did that annoying thing again.

So my younger brother’s car has a driver’s side window that won’t go back up. It’s stuck. A motor in the door is broken, or something. And my mom broke it somehow after getting food from a drivethrough window.

Well she decided today, “Hey maybe I just pushed the window lock button and it won’t go up because I did that!”

Then spent 7 or so minutes telling me about it.

Then went outside and tried it. And no, it didn’t work.

And it was never going to work, because that was logically the first thing she tried when it happened.

But this is a woman with a narcissistic personality disorder that interfaces with reality in a very self-serving way. The sort of person that will reject reality when she hears what she doesn’t like, perform innocence and ignorance when she’s really mad and challenging, and ask you, “what?” just to get you to repeat what you said with an answer she actually wants to hear. As if by simply asking you to repeat, she’s reshuffling reality to a result she likes better.

Then she gets mad if her attempted reshuffle of reality doesn’t work and the outcome is still shit. Genuinely believes she can change how the universe works just by trying to browbeat it by performatively playing along with whatever she wants to be true, rather than what is. Right until the situation proves that it will never be how she wants it.

This isn’t just limited to this situation. She’ll think about a thing, decide she wants things to be a certain way, and then come to a conclusion based around what she WANTS to be true, rather than what is probably true. “But I want this outcome” somehow magically becomes a factor in how she sees the world, so she can’t imagine it not working that way.

When she got that, “bright idea” of turning the house hot water heater off to save money, and just wound up causing it to go through a process of recalibrating again, every time. In her mind, it should work because if you aren’t heating the water “all the time,” you aren’t consuming energy. She refused to listen when we said what she was doing wasn’t helping, she was just shutting down the system and flooding the pipes, which then would need to be flushed out the next time the furnace was switched on. Because the fucking thing wasn’t DESIGNED to be switched off outside of an emergency.

And I’ll be honest. If she didn’t have the diplomatic immunity of a woman, and it was a man behaving this way, I’d have personally removed teeth from her by now. She’s caused me so much grief and irritation and stress just by deciding she had the right to do shit like this based on outcomes she saw as desirable and ideal so they must be true, then getting herself into trouble and using the family to dig her out for security. She is the only person in the family that behaves this way because she is the only person that can afford to. Especially since she takes other peoples money as a consequence of us being unable to afford to escape.

The sheer psychotic audacity of a person that thinks they can perform and lie to the world to try to trick it and make it function how she wants speaks to the psychology of a person that is so fucked up and selfish that they could even trick and browbeat god into doing what they want, if they just act hard enough. And I’m an atheist, but she is a Christian, so when I say ‘trick god,’ I mean browbeat her own god.

[itsevanffs]

Also 5 please 😚

What makes your main ship so compatible? Or, what makes them so incompatible? What do they see in each other?

-

Tomarrymort in general is amazing because these idiots share a soul, a mind (link) and fucking blood post book four. THAT'S MIND SOUL AND BODY. THAT'S MARRIAGE LEVEL STUFF OF SHARING THINGS. THEY ARE ONE. IT IS PRACTICALLY CANON.

Okay but a bit more seriously: it's because I feel like Harry is the only person to really try to understand Voldemort and give him a chance even when faced with his own imminent death. Dumbledore says he's tried his best and that Voldemort is just irredeemable and born that way because of circumstances beyond his control, but I think everyone here who has any concept of how trauma works knows that good ol' Dumbles only really made the situation worse - though that's really a thought for another time.

Harry was allowed by Dumbledore and perhaps even Voldemort himself to get insight to Voldemort's early life, and we all joke about how many times Harry calls him 'handsome' in the man's youth but I'm mainly concerned with the fact that they started out so alike in life; both dirt poor, freaks, unloved by the people around them, able to rely on themselves and themselves alone, and I think Harry realises this.

If Voldemort hadn't made Harry his equal, if he hadn't killed his parents, Harry would never have landed in a situation where he could understand Voldemort's past and empathise with him. Voldemort made Harry his equal in more ways than just feeling threatened by his existence - he made him equal in his life experiences as well. They shared a youth.

I think if Dumbledore had treated Harry the way he'd treated a young Tom Riddle once upon a time, Harry would probably have turned out as bitter and self-serving as Voldemort did; and deep down, Harry knows this. And he hopes, deep down, with the right people and the right environment, that he can still make Voldemort change, make him a better person, perhaps out of a selfish desire to prove that destinies aren't fixed from birth, that you don't need to be who people say you are.

And that parallel, the way they're two identical puzzle pieces but could never fit together perfectly...

I think that's beautiful.

[winter-soldier-vibes]

We Need You

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1901

Summary: Bucky comforts a reader with imposter syndrome (inability to believe that one’s success is deserved)

Warnings: imposter syndrome, low self worth/self esteem, feeling worthless, slight angst, mostly comfort

A/N: I have issues that present similarly to imposter syndrome, but I don’t experience it fully or severely. You belong and wherever you are, you fucking earned that. You worked hard to get where you are. I hope this fic can bring you some comfort, I apologize if I did not serve the topic justice. Sorry it took so long! As always, if anyone needs anything from me or just wants to talk and vent, I am ALWAYS here! <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @buckfics @thatfangirl42 @mardema @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @stucky-on-spiderman @peggycarter-steverogers @freigeistundanderes

Add yourself to my taglist! Masterlist

------

You were calm, cool and collected. Smart, dedicated, and hard-working. You were an Avenger, one of the more valuable assets to the team with your training in hand to hand combat and knowledge of weaponry. 

At least, that’s how everyone saw you. Everyone except you. 

Every “job well done” translated to “I could’ve done better” for you. Compliments in a way felt like pity to you. Like it was all a lie or something. You could’ve been better, you didn’t think you were anything special. 

Anytime someone gave you praise you would wave it off with a small smile. Everyone saw it as you being modest, but internally you just couldn’t accept it. You couldn’t accept praise knowing you could’ve done better.

Settle for nothing less than perfection. But nobody’s perfect.

You were endlessly grateful for your team, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve it. You had so much good in your life, but you felt like you had to keep proving yourself. 

You had everything you could ever want, but you still felt like you had to earn it. 

You thought you had done a good job at keeping it hidden. Imposter syndrome you had heard someone call it at one point. You had looked into it, realizing more and more of it resonated with you. You didn’t feel that you deserved your spot on the team, even though most of the team could agree that you were one of their best fighters. 

You were also one of the kindest people on the team, and everyone enjoyed being in your company. Again, you wrote it off as them feeling obligated to talk to you rather than them choosing to talk to you. 

Everything you thought about yourself, the degrading names you called yourself, and the way you waved off all of your achievements didn’t match up at all with the way anyone thought about you. 

It went unnoticed to most. You would put up a front, small smiles and thank you’s occasionally. There would be small side comments that you would make occasionally, but it was nothing that would cause red flags to arise. 

It’s nothing, really.

I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.

It’s no big deal.

No worries

That’s why I’m here I guess

Compliments were deflected. Whenever you received criticism you would internalize it even though you knew it was nothing against you. Friendly advice to improve job performance. But for you, it reinforces the thought that your performance needed to be improved.

No matter what you did, you would never be good enough. You used to chase achievements, telling yourself that if you did well enough, if you did good things, that you would feel a sense of self worth. That maybe if you achieved things you would be filled with a sense of pride.

Instead you were left feeling as though you didn’t deserve any of the recognition you received. In a way, it made you feel even more insecure.

You thought that if you accepted the praise you would seem self indulgent or boastful that if you said what your achievements were you would seem prideful. So you accepted them with a small smile and thank you. At least until people moved onto the next topic and you drop the smile when it seemed safe. When no one was watching. 

When you thought no one was watching. 

Which is how Bucky had come to notice the discomfort you had.

When he had first joined the team, he was very quiet. He did a lot of listening and observing, not wanting to speak much himself. That was understandable to anyone. So when you had been introduced to him and your skillset had been mentioned and you waved it off saying no big deal, he had noticed how you shifted as if you were uncomfortable and your smile dropped as soon as the attention was on someone else. 

He didn’t think much of it. If anything it had to do with being uncomfortable around him. 

But as time passed he started relaxing around everyone too, especially you. He was still accepting what he had done and who he was now. He was still reserved but he wasn’t silent. The two of you had become good friends, being two of the quieter personalities on the team. 

Now you had someone to keep you company when you stayed at the outskirts of Tony’s parties.  

But as more time went on, he noticed small things that you did. Behaviors you had, things you said. Clutch phrases. The way you would seem embarrassed when people complimented you. The way you would say that there were no worries even if you were the only reason that a mission was successful. 

Sometimes when you thought you were alone or no one would hear, he would catch you mumbling things to yourself. Things like yeah right to compliments before giving a genuine response. The slight shakes of the head in protest. The nervous habits you had when you got a compliment. The little things that others were too distracted to notice, too small to 

Bucky was an observant man. 

Which is how one night, you hadn’t realized him come into your room to talk to you about something that Bucky completely forgot about once he saw you. You were sitting down at your desk, head in your hands and rubbing your eyes. 

Jesus why am I so stupid

What the fuck is wrong with me

They don’t mean what they say

How could they like you?

I’m worthless

Just like everyone else

I don’t belong here

You were so trapped by the marathon of degrading thoughts that you hadn’t heard Bucky come in. He stood beside you, concern etched on his face. 

“Y/n?” you jumped slightly and took your hands away from your face, blinking in surprise. You had been crying. Why was he here?

“Y/n what’s wrong?” he asked, coming over to you. 

You shook your head and shrugged, wiping a few loose tears from your face. “‘M fine Buck,” you whispered, struggling to keep your emotions out of your voice.

“Y/n,” Bucky said, crouching down in front of you. “You wouldn’t be crying if something wasn’t wrong. It’s okay to be upset, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just tell me why you’re upset.”

You shook your head again. “Really Buck, I’m fine.”

“Y/n, I may not be able to read minds like Wanda, but I know something’s bothering you.it’s okay.”

You sighed, taking a breath before looking at him. “Do you guys really mean it?” you suddenly asked meekly.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “Mean...what?” 

“After missions, when you say I did the right thing, that I did a good job, that you guys need me - do you mean it?”

Bucky looked more puzzled now. “Yeah, of course we do. Why else would we say things like that?”

“If you thought you were supposed to.” you said suddenly. “Or if, you know, you wanted to be polite, or you thought I wanted to hear it, or you didn’t really mean it I don’t really know I -”

“Y/n, hold on, slow it down...What?” Bucky said. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “I dunno, I just don’t really feel like I’m all that valuable to you guys here. I don’t do anything you guys couldn’t do without me. I make so many mistakes all the time and no matter how hard I try I just don’t feel like I belong here.”

Bucky took a minute to look at you. He had known you doubted yourself but this was beyond what he had thought. To think that you, y/n, weren’t valuable to this team was a crazy idea to him

To you it was the truth.

“Y/n, no, we need you. Why on Earth would you think you don’t belong?”

“Because I haven’t earned it. I’m on the team, I fight with you guys, but I still don’t feel like I should be. The mistakes I make all the time, the wrong calls, the selfish calls, bad judgements...I could go on. I just...no matter how much good I do it doesn’t make the mistakes go away.”

“Y/n, you are one of the best people we have, we -”

“No I’m not,” you said firmly, surprising Bucky. You shook your head. “You guys don’t need me. I don’t deserve to be on this team.”

“And I do?” Bucky asked.

You looked back at him. “What do you mean? Of course you do. Your the best fighter we have, Steve's best friend, we need you.”

“But I’ve made so many mistakes. You know all of the horrible things that I’ve done y/n. I was made into a weapon.” he said.”

“Bucky you know that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t choose that and you would've done anything to stop it. That’s different. You’re a great fighter and a good person, Bucky.”

“So are you.” he stated simply. “Do you believe that?”

You took a deep breath.  “I believe you believe that. But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Bucky put his hands on your shoulders. “You are a fighter. A hero. You’ve saved so many people doing things that some of us couldn’t or wouldn’t do. People out there remember how you saved them. How you protected them and gave yourself to them. That was you, no one else. You are a part of this team, you help make it what it is. We would be lost without you. You put your blood, sweat, and tears into this team. You give your heart and soul to this team. You’ve earned every goddamn bit of praise you get and more. You fought your place onto this team and you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else here. So when your head tells you that you don’t belong or that we don’t need you, tell it to fuck off. Because you’re one of the best people we have.”

By now you had tears in your eyes again, but not ones of shame. Ones of appreciation and relief. You had wanted to hear those words directly for so long and to be affirmed in that way was something you needed. “Thank you Bucky,” you said softly, giving him one of your first genuine smiles at a compliment.

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime. Anytime you want a reminder, you let me know. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it before you can start to believe it for yourself.”

[pocketgalaxies]

idk i just think it's cool how, despite a lot of arcane's story elements being honestly pretty predictable, it’s never able to follow through on any of those tropes bc jinx is such a destructive wild card, to the point where it almost feels like jinx is operating outside the scope of the story's control

like a good number of the characters fall into typical roles that serve larger, familiar stories: the privileged selfish rich vs. the rebellious mistreated poor, the kingpin who controls his city with drugs and threats of violence, the scientist who goes to extreme lengths to cure his own disease, etc etc

obviously reducing arcane to a patchwork of tropes is ignoring all of the incredible nuances it brings to the table, plus it isn’t necessarily a bad thing to write a story with these common elements - after all there’s a reason they’re so popular. but my point is that we as media consumers can recognize these templates, and we think we know where these characters and these stories are headed

but things just. go SO WRONG when you throw jinx into the mix. that's how arc 1 ends - our media literacy tells us that this is powder's big moment to show up in a moment of crisis and prove that she's competent and capable of saving others, but instead she shows up when our heroes are basically home free and inadvertently kills all of them

the bridge fight - ekko finally seeing the remnants of powder that are still there, the regret and the reluctance to deal the final blow, and jinx nonverbally acknowledging the relationship they once had and the innocence that still lives in her. we think maybe this is a turning point? maybe with her pinned down and completely at the hands of someone who used to love her, an act of mercy will start to change things? but before that decision can be made she literally blows them both up

and then again at the end of the season - the political story builds and builds and builds until we finally see the council vote for peace, and moments later jinx fires a fucking rocket straight into the board room. she literally obliterates what would’ve been a neat little ending to the piltover-zaun story. this is even harder to process when you know from league lore that eventually zaun WILL be independent. you think maybe this is how it happens, this must be how it happens, and then jinx ults directly into your stupid gullible face

there are a bunch of other examples, and i think a lot of this is also part of the inherent irony and self-fulfilling prophecy that the show creators baked into her Literal Name, since she really cannot stop jinxing things to save her (or anyone else’s) life. but i just think it’s v interesting the way jinx, to me, feels outside the bounds of the story that arcane is trying to tell. again, this is especially significant given that this show is uniquely in a position to connect an established point A to a pre-existing point B (read: current league of legends canon). arcane puts us on a familiar path that seems like a pretty straight shot toward what we know is our destination, but as soon as jinx pops in to say hi, suddenly we have no idea where we’re going

[kodzumie-archived]

can i please get a nsfw yandere nagito with a fem or gn s/o that involves overstimulation/multiple orgasms? i love ur writing so far 💖💕💗💓 tysm

❝COVETOUSNESS❞

Synopsis; Humans are selfish to their very core; their fundamentals. Yet is he truly selfish if he merely wants to serve you?

Featuring; Nagito Komaeda x Fem! Reader

Warning(s); Yandere themes, nonconsensual, sacrilege, breaking and entering, somnophilia, fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, mentions of feeling like vomiting (distress), overstimulation, and hintings of forced pregnancy.

Kodzumie’s Note; Thank you for your support and kind words! Though I sincerely apologize if this isn’t what you had in mind when requesting. This piece turned out very dark and included a lot of triggering topics. If you don’t like how it turned out, please tell me! I’ll rewrite it just for you, love. Take care of yourself, okay? Muah <3

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Humans—to their very core—are selfish. They yearn for what they can’t attain; for what they shouldn’t possess. Human instinct is derived from bitter selfishness, a desire to take, take, take until they’ve withdrawn everything.

⤷ No matter Nagito’s constant resistance of such instincts, even he succumbs. Selfishness—uncontrollable avarice—is merely the fundamentals of humanity’s existence.

⤷ Despite how pitifully minor Nagito views his worth to be; how little he views his purpose to be; he’s still human.

⤷ And with being human comes an animalistic drive. An uncontainable urge to tear into all that he yearns, to take what it is he lusts after.

⤷ Even as months pass, his livid attempts to suppress the temptations and submit himself under your guide; your hope; your will. He swears to himself that he merely wants to serve you.

⤷ His disillusionment riddled with fixation leads his mind astray, and perhaps that’s why he found himself perched outside your bedroom window, peering in through the crack of your curtain.

⤷ He’s aware that someone as worthless as him shouldn’t dare think of tainting your ethereal, divine figure with his touch. But his delusional ideals muddle his thoughts until he, himself, compromises to string along his yearning as well as his allegiance towards you.

⤷ It’s a complicated urge; a lustful temptation fueled by his innermost greed. Yet isn’t this another way to serve you? To bring forth your pleasure and watch you squirm in ecstasy? Isn’t this what it means to serve?

⤷ Too far gone within his ambitions of pleasing his beloved hope—his god—his fingers trail along the underside of your bedroom window, tracing over the sill with his fingertips.

⤷ Yes, yes. The desire to ensure your pleasure was nothing more than his strive to serve you. Even as he knew someone scum like him have no business laying their grimy touch upon you, his fundamental, humanistic avarice distorted his belief; it’s not about his pleasure, it’s about yours.

⤷ Thus he repeated these words within the feverish, compulsive capsule of his mind as he tugged at the window, gently as to not disturb your rest; he wouldn’t dare want to bother you.

⤷ A click resonated within the nighttime air and Nagito’s lips curled to an eerie smile; just his luck, the window was left unlocked.

⤷ With a singular, fluid motion, Nagito managed to open the window to its fullest; granting himself entrance within your abode.

⤷ He almost didn’t enter, too far flustered at the fact that he was about to enter within the encompass of your heavenly presence; your sacred home. Surely trash like him wasn’t welcome within the personal realms of his beloved hope. But the endeavor of humanistic covetousness is not to be underestimated.

⤷ As he pushes through, entering with a reluctant hop, a thump echoes against the walls of your bedroom. Yet it seems that his luck was abundant that night, you hadn’t even stirred within your rest.

⤷ It was within that moment that Nagito’s breathing grew erratic; unstable. Huffing jagged breaths as he admired your sleeping form with an all-too-prominent blush coating his cheeks.

⤷ You appeared so delicate from within this close—no, intimate—proximity. Having spent months watching you from meters distance, this length felt almost forbidden; sinful.

⤷ It’s evident as though being this close to you was sinful itself. He knew all too well that scum like him shouldn’t dare approach you; shouldn’t dare go near; he wasn’t worthy of your divine presence. He knows, he knows, he knows.

⤷ Yet that doesn’t stop his footsteps as he hovers over you, taking a closer peek at your visage in which was doused with the indications of slumber.

⤷ He was mere feet away from you, and that thought alone sent blood to his already flushed cheeks and straight down to where his pants began to strain; an erotic euphoria bubbling within his gut as he released a giddy giggle.

⤷ There you were, there you were. As he gently brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, his knuckles nuzzling against the plush skin, he stuttered out a breathless moan. You were there, he could feel you.

⤷ And that realization—alone—was what cut the ropes; detaching Nagito from what was left of his morality as he climbed over your dormant body, straddling your hips.

⤷ Picking at the fruit of his desires, fingers clasping over the hem of your blanket, ready to reveal your heavenly figure to his ravishing eyes.

⤷ Nagito lost his external awareness, unable to decipher if the beating of his heart and the rapid, heavy breathing escaping his lips was even his own. Instead, his attention remained glued to you; to your divinity; to your ethereal, unconscious countenance.

⤷ It almost felt unreal, as though that very moment was nothing more than a merciless dream to torture his unattainable wishes and prove to him just how pathetic he was; how greedy scum like him can be.

⤷ But as he rocked his hips—grinding his clothed erection against your blanketed form—all his fears of this moment being nothing more than a dream had dispersed.

⤷ This pleasure was real. And it felt so, so imprudent. He should feel ashamed, and he did. He felt such an unfathomable amount of ignominy; his existence culminated to a mere disgrace.

⤷ Somewhere within his mind—somewhere tucked far within the depths of his disillusioned, fixated mind—he knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this. He knows putting his grimy hands on you is criminal. But his thoughts are clouded, and he no longer fucking cares.

⤷ The rocking of his hips jolts to a hault as he shakes his head, dismissing his own undeserving pleasure. This wasn’t about him, this was about you; relinquishing in your pleasure, fulfilling his role to serve you.

⤷ And thus, he discards your blanket, soaking in the sight of your body covered in nothing more than your pajamas. His already rosy cheeks flush further, sweat accumulating above his brow at your delicacy; your vulnerability. How cute.

⤷ As though your waist was a magnet, his hands instantly found themselves situated atop the exposed skin that managed to peek out from beneath your top.

⤷ A shudder wracked down Nagito’s spin, a shaky moan falling from between his lips as he gently squeezed the skin; familiarizing himself with your divinity. So soft, so delectable.

⤷ He found himself wanting to savor you; to treasure each moment through the means of time as he spends each mystical second hailing every centimeter of skin you bless his senses with. But it’s that damned ravishing instinct; his disgusting, filthy greed that persuades him to hasten.

⤷ Soon enough, his fingers find themselves curled around the hem of your pants, mentally preparing himself for the glory of tugging them down and witnessing the sacred grail of your panties. Though he hungrily awaited the heavenly domain the aforementioned panties kept hidden.

⤷ It was a swift motion, but he tried to be as careful as he could muster. You—his precious deity, his glorious god—were still asleep, after all.

⤷ At the sight of your panties, Nagito chewed his bottom lip with fervor as he suppressed a groan. This is real, this is real, this is real.

⤷ Caught in a state of delusion and pure, unhindered ecstasy, Nagito attempted to ground himself to reality—this was real, he was truly feeling upon your divinity—brushing the tips of his index and middle finger over your clothed slit. He could feel you; he could feel your slick through the thin fabric of your panties.

⤷ The feeling of your juices coating your panties, faintly dampening his fingers, had unraveled waves of heat to his cock. Your juices; your arousal.

⤷ Nothing could ever compare to the euphoria, the unhinged joy, he felt within that moment.

⤷ He could feel the hope you radiated in multitudes of waves. The intensity of your hope flustering him, dizzying him with adoration as he pants. A borderline maniacal cackle erupting from the back of his throat.

⤷ This was it! This was what a worthless scum such as himself was meant to do; his purpose! He was meant to appease you, his sole meaning in his pitiful, miserable, despair-filled existence was nothing more than that; to appease the beacon of hope that radiates amongst mankind, his beloved savior, his god.

⤷ His mind fogged with the brimmings of dazed insanity, he pounces; jumping the gun. Your panties sheltered your cunt no longer, exposing your most intimate parts to his ghost-green orbs; the same eyes that ravished the sight so hungrily, starved.

⤷ His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, salivating at the sight. Of course, every part of you was faultless; perfection personified. He should’ve known your pussy—drooling with your slick—was no exception.

⤷ The temptations, the urge, the bitter greed that was pitted within his too-far-gone devotions overwhelmed him.

⤷ It was a constant battle between his self-degradation and self-absorption. He wanted to ravage you; milk you of your nectar.

⤷ Yet he was caught in a cobweb of confliction. Scum like him didn’t deserve to taste your delicacy. Trash like him didn’t deserve to touch you so intimately.

⤷ He knew this. He knows, he knows, he knows, and yet he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not as his tongue drags over your slit, lapping over your wet cunt and humming at your flavorful dew.

⤷ It was addictive; your taste. As though he wasn’t already high—face flushed, sweat-coated brows, and bleary mind—he now found himself encapsulated within his ever-growing fixation. His adoration—no, obsession; his addiction—for you transitioned from a chrysalis of desire to an abyss of yearning.

⤷ Unable to cease his infatuation, he plunges his tongue into your forbidden flower; the glory that trash like him should never delve into. But he doesn’t give a damn about that now.

⤷ He’s aware of his status in comparison to yours. He shouldn’t even be within a mile radius of your sacred space; he shouldn’t be anywhere near you.

⤷ But that’s what made you so addictive; so cherished. He couldn’t get enough of your superiority, and that’s because trash like him will never be enough. He could never amount to your greatness—your holiness—so he takes. And he takes, and he takes, and he takes from you until he’s able to fill his worthless existence with a mere fraction of your inalienable hope.

⤷ You’re his hope. You’re his promise of a better tomorrow. You’re the beacon of light that ensures him that life is worth one more day. You’re the embodiment of his desires. You possess all his wants, and yet he only wants you.

⤷ He only wants to indulge in you; serve you; appease you; fulfill all that it is to please you. As he continues to suckle on your clit, lapping his tongue over the sensitive bud, a moan echoed within the bounds of your bedroom; a moan that was not his own.

⤷ You turn, and a groan of slumber escapes your lips. Nagito’s breath hitched as he pauses his ministrations, heart hammering within his chest in anticipation; dread.

⤷ A dread that warped into sickening excitement as you gasp; the result of a lick to your slit.

⤷ In that climactic second, your entire body stilled as your limbs began to tremble with absolute terror. At that very moment, you are painfully aware of the cold air brushing against your thighs; the cold air of another person’s breath against your exposed cunt.

⤷ A wicked, devious smirk resided on Nagito’s lips as he allowed his repressed chuckle to escape and resound within the tense atmosphere. Just his luck, you were awake.

⤷ He’s disturbed his beloved hope; his god. How shameful, how utterly audacious of him. How dare he stir you from your rest? Much less have your divinity awaken to witness his atrocious self; his existence that you should’ve gone about your merry life without realizing he existed.

⤷ But that doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done, and Nagito can only attempt to mend the inevitable errors he’s committed.

⤷ He’ll try to make amends of his wrongdoings by bringing forth your pleasure. He’s disturbed you, so why not make it all right through serving you? Just like he intended to do in the first place.

⤷ His tongue—formerly masquerading in quick frolics—now fervently diving and plunging into your core. Slurping your juices with such intensity as regard for your already disturbed slumber is dismissed.

⤷ Your hands press against his disheveled hair, tugging and attempting to push him away. Yet the sting of your fingers within his strands merely elicits a groan from his lips; the same moan that vibrates against your body, releasing a moan from your pretty lips that he adores.

⤷ The harmonious sound you’d let out motivating Nagito further as he tightens his right hand over your thigh, throwing it over his shoulder. His left-hand massaging your slit—teasingly—before thrusting two fingers at once.

⤷ Your stuttered moans are pitifully muffled by the biting of your bottom lip. You’re afraid; so very afraid. Why was this happening? Why you?

⤷ With his face buried between your thighs, you couldn’t get a clear view of his face to identity him. You wondered which would be worse; someone you knew or a stranger?

⤷ Regretful whimpers tumble from your lips as Nagito added yet another finger, his lips curled around your clit as he drew a harsh suck; one that forced a particularly loud moan from you.

⤷ He smiled against your cunt, giddy that someone as trashy as him could bring out such melodic noises from you. Yet this blossomed a hunger for more; more of your sounds and more of your pleasure. He wanted to watch you unravel over, and over, and over.

⤷ And—while you laid beneath him, squirming and writhing in both pleasure and an instinct to get away due to your terror—he was going to do so. He was going to milk you of your orgasms relentlessly, basking in your cum as he strives to bring you as much pleasure as scum like him can give.

⤷ As he pumped three digits into your sopping cunt, juices squelching upon contact, his pace only grew more rapid; hasty with the desire to feel you clench around his fingers; soaking him in your cum as you reach your climax. Faster and faster, his eyes interlock with yours as your mouth hung open, your heavenly moans filling the room.

⤷ Yet as your eyes meet, a terrifying realization causes your heart to drop to your stomach along with the unwanted bubbling of your oncoming orgasm.

⤷ You knew him. A bitter realization as your breathing both halted and grew more unstable. You knew him, you knew him, you knew him—tears cascading at the fact—you knew him; Nagito Komaeda, the infamous lucky student in the class below you.

⤷ Through the horrific pleasure of his fingers thrusting into you, a stuttered cry escapes your lips as you sob.

⤷ “Stop! Stop, plea—ah! Komaeda, stop!” Your wails overcoming your unintentional yelps of wretched ecstacy. And paying heed to your pleas, he stops.

⤷ You feel relieved; hopeful. There’s a hope blossoming within your chest as you sought the possibility that he’d truly stop; leave you alone and never show his face to you for the remainder of your life, perhaps allowing you to forget this night ever occurred.

⤷ But once your eyes meet with Nagito’s ghostly green ones once again, you could hear the cracking of your spirit; the shattering of your hope. There’s something within his gaze. Something animalistic, something so terrifyingly carnal.

⤷ He didn’t stop. Not as you sobbed and pleaded for him to let go of you; to leave you alone. Not as you promised you wouldn’t tell a soul about this night if he’d just leave. But he didn’t leave. And he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

⤷ It hurt. Perhaps not physically—violating you pushing you into heaps of orgasmic pleasure—but emotionally; mentally.

⤷ Your sobs falling upon deaf ears as he removed his fingers from within you; unsheathing his digits in which were soaked in your juices. For once throughout the time you’ve laid conscious, he’s removed himself from you. Shifting his weight onto his knees, barely straddling you.

⤷ In that moment, you saw a chance; an opportunity. And as quickly as your hope had been shattered preciously, the fragments seemed to reassemble themselves; the broken aftermath of what was once whole.

⤷ Though as you prepared yourself to dash towards your bedroom door—half-naked and vulnerable—a sickening, gutwrenching sound haunts your ears; the clanking of a belt buckle followed by the daunting friction of leather.

⤷ You needed to run, and you needed to run now. Without a moment to waste, you used your utmost strength to shove the male back, and throwing yourself off of your bed.

⤷ Your body hit the wooden floorboards with a thump as you wheezed in exasperation; the wind knocking out of you. Yet you didn’t allow the minor setback to hold you down as you shoved yourself from the floor, sprinting towards the closed door.

⤷ It was close; so close you could almost wrap your fingers around the brass knob and release yourself from the confines of your bedroom; what you now considered the encompass of Hell itself.

⤷ As your fingers brushed against the doorknob, curling it to the left and successfully opening the door, a weight shoves itself against you; forcing your body to slam against the door—painfully—shutting it.

⤷ Your blood ran cold; turning to ice at the realization of what’s to come. You were too slow.

⤷ His calloused hands clasp over your body; one over your mouth whilst the other remains firmly atop your hip, squeezing at the plush skin. His breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he mutters something you’re unable to comprehend, much too focused on the painfully audible pulsating of your heart.

⤷ You had nowhere to run, and you surely couldn’t hide anywhere within your room. You were stuck. You were too slow and now he’s trapped you within what you had once assumed was the comforting, safe confinement of your bedroom.

⤷ You could feel it; you could feel him. The unmistakable bulge pressing against your thigh serving as a searing reminder of what it is that’ll be taken from you by the arising of dawn.

⤷ Ever-so hopeful, you continue to thrash; fighting against his bludgeoning grip as you sob an onset of pleas for the possibility of persuasion. But the endeavor of humanistic covetousness is not to be underestimated.

⤷ It’s as though he’s unable to hear your begging; selectively falling deaf as he ravishes for what he yearns for. Despite his internal promising of committing such ludicrously was for you—much like all other actions he takes in his pathetic life—Nagito is bound by the foundations of his humane instincts; selfishness.

⤷ Even as he pushes himself into you, choking out an exaggerated, sinful groan as he savors the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, soaking him in your cum from your previous climax as he thrusts you into another.

⤷ He’s relentless; pounding into you as the ropes of his self-restraint are cut. The remnants of humanity long-lost within him as all that’s left is the barren chrysalis of fatal infatuation; narcissistic desire; the epitome of all that he once vowed to never become.

⤷ Over and over, he circles your clit, stimulating your nerves to draw out the cries of bliss that he adores. Your moans a mantra of pleas to his disillusioned ears.

⤷ Even when the buildup of pleasure became too much, reaching your fourth orgasm of the night rapidly, much to your dismay. The bubbles of elation became too much; it became painful.

⤷ Your legs trembled with shocks of exhaustion, jolting through your limbs in the form of cramps as you sobbed from the mental strain and the physical drain his tainted violation took on you. It hurts, it hurts so bad.

⤷ You wanted him to stop, pushing against his hips which were practically strapped to the curves of your ass, you attempted to put space between your body and his; granting yourself just the tiniest bit of relief from his unwanted touch.

⤷ But he wouldn’t allow that. He yearned to be closer to his hope—his deity—for he knew that the moments shared were temporary; a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity graced by your divinity. And he wouldn’t waste a second of it.

⤷ “Please,” Your voice hoarse from the endless amounts of crying and screaming for release from his captivity. “No more. I can’t—“ But your continuous begging was interrupted by a voice you prayed to whoever would listen that you don’t hear his wretched voice for the rest of your days; the rest of your days in which you’ll attempt to fix the pieces of yourself he’d scattered.

⤷ “But you can, my beloved hope. I believe in your ability to keep going. You’re surging with the throbs of hope! I can feel it!” He rasped. His voice is cheery and upbeat as he panted breathlessly, pushing himself towards an orgasm of his own whilst you’re forced to endure your fifth.

⤷ “No! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” You yelped as the crown of his cock kissed against your cervix; a painful jolt shooting up your spine as you cry out. It hurts, everything hurts. Your abused pussy leaked heaps of your cum as the fluids drizzled onto the floorboards and your inner thighs.

⤷ “Don’t lose sight of hope, my darling deity. You are capable! Conquer the putrid tendrils of despair and provide me with another dose of your glory! I beg of you, please. Allow me this moment to—“ His tangent was cut off; his insanity and dazed glorification of obsession are not allowed another second of exposure as you scream.

⤷ “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” It’s loud; your voice ringing in your ears as you clench your fists.

⤷ This man—no, this-this monster—was anything other than humane. He held not an ounce of sanity as his shaft twitched from within you at your outburst, groans escaping his lips at the sensation of you clenching as you shouted your proclamations.

⤷ This sick fuck found pleasure in the outing of his disturbing infatuation. So much so that he pressed his chest against your back as thick ropes of translucent cum fill within you; his cum.

⤷ The horrifying sensation of his heated seed gushing around his cock which still continued to pump into you—though at a much slower pace—pushed you to tears once more. You want to vomit, you want to empty all that’s inside your limp body; a body that no longer felt like your own.

⤷ He reached his climax through the use of your body as though you were a mere fleshlight; a toy simply for his volatile lust. He came inside you.

⤷ Suddenly the room was spinning, the door blending with the wall as the frame warped into unrecognizable shapes. Your body swayed—mind hazy as you swallowed back the traces of bile—before falling into the arms of the sole being you wished nothing more than despair upon.

⤷ He held you; cradled you within his arms as he whispered about how good you were. His cheeks flushed rosy with an unnatural, insane sense of longing.

⤷ “My darling deity, I can’t believe that scum like me managed to ensure you five peaks of ecstacy. What an honor for someone as trashy as me, to be nuzzled within your sacred blossom of hope. Ah, I truly am so lucky...” He rambled. It’s insane; his words, his gaze, his touch. Everything about Nagito Komaeda was—to its very core—insane.

⤷ “To think that someone as worthless as me, as purposeless as me, could be given the gift of serving you like this.” He releases an airy chuckle as he guides you to your bed, laying you to rest once more. Your exhausted figure falling limp as you hit the mattress.

⤷ He leans over you, his breath fanning over your lips as he pauses, gazing into your eyes with a moment of what you believed to be the eyes of true depravity.

⤷ “I’ll follow you to the depths of Hell if I have to. Not a moment in my life will be spent without serving you; worshipping you.“ He continues to monologue, each sentence that leaves his lips muddled with riddled devotion; a promise you pray that he won’t keep.

⤷ His lips brush against yours as the lids of your eyes weigh more by the second. You can sense the warmth of his breath as his lips press against yours; not close enough for a proper kiss yet able to rub against yours. It’s an intimate proximity, but one you’d rather run through fire than share with him.

⤷ “My goddess, I’ll hail you until my dying breath, if your sincerest hopes will allow me.” Finally, he captures your lips with his own, pulling you in for a fleeting kiss that he hesitates in breaking.

⤷ As he pulls back, eyeing your now sleeping form, he couldn’t help but smile. A smile that surely would’ve stirred fear deep within your gut as swirls of delusion masqueraded within his ghostly green hues; a visage of addiction in its rawest form. “My darling deity, I love you.”

[comradekatara]

the gaang + how well they would do on the infinity train?

this is suuuper hard because there are so many factors to take into consideration. first is obviously the train itself. the train's function in a metanarrative sense is to serve as a vehicle for storytelling, dissecting & deconstructing the process of a narrative and how a character's arc is propelled by their circumstances. the train supposedly functions to improve its passengers, and yet we also know that The Train is a deeply flawed mechanism that can corrupt and further traumatize its passengers just as much as it can "fix" them. when the train invites you in with the single-minded goal of getting your number to zero, assuming you ever disembark, you're probably gonna be left with even more trauma than when you arrived, or at the very least, weirder trauma.

grace wanted to be seen, but instead of learning to value herself for her own intrinsic worth instead of relying on validation from those around her, she was enabled by that validation and literally started a cult. likewise, since jet is basically a less heinous version of simon, i see him taking a similar path to the apex (though he would of course name them the freedom fighters) trying to overthrow the tyrannical one-one and reinstate the True Conductor. he would think his path is righteous. he would think he is protecting those kids from evil. who knows what would happen once he learns the truth.

then there is the matter of what the train wants from you. the train arrives at a pivotal moment in one's life, when they are at an emotional crossroads and need a catalyst for growth. for example, jesse's problem was relatively small (because he is perfect) but hurting his brother caused him emotional turmoil nonetheless, so the train stepped in. this means that to answer this question properly, i would have to answer not only when the train arrives for them, but why, and seeing that every single atla character carries massive amounts of baggage (most of it flavors of trauma that infinity train has not addressed), this proves extremely difficult. i have to identify the most narratively satisfying moment in each character's lives to have the train arrive, and then i have to make assumptions about which cars would propel them which way (emotionally). you're asking me to outline nine different fanfictions.

only jet's character feels similar enough to any of the characters we've seen in infinity train for me to even have an inkling as to what path he would take. while sokka and tulip are quite similar as people (rational, scientific yet creative thinkers who over-rely on logic over feeling, are deeply loyal, and instinctually blame themselves for the problems caused by others), their character arcs themselves have little in common. both aang and hazel experience a tragic loss of pure, childhood innocence (which is why i cry over both of them every day), but in relatively dissimilar ways (at least appa gets to return to aang). min-gi and zuko are both pressured by their upbringings to conform to a standard that makes them miserable to please their parents, only to ultimately embrace their own passion & truth... but not only do those arcs play out completely differently, zuko and min-gi are completely different people, and if anything, zuko's approach to life is far more like ryan's (ie, jumping off a cliff and hoping he lands on his feet).

but what i think you're really asking, at the end of the day, is how emotionally mature, self-aware, and capable of positive growth is each atla character? because how am i supposed to know what the train would do to their psyches, considering each external situation would shape them differently, and unless i'm supposed to meticulously craft fanfiction for each one of them (which i wouldn't be opposed to doing, but only for one character, i simply cannot do all nine – also, i'm surprised infinity train AUs aren't more common, but then again i'm not particularly familiar with fanficition, so maybe it is!), it would only be an approximation, in which i identify their core problem (which again, is not how real people work, or even how atla characters work, but how The Train works) and then analyze how long it would take for each of them to solve said problem.

so, that was a very long-winded preface. without further ado:

aang's main problem is that he keeps running away from his problems, which is to say, distracting himself from the enormity of his grief. personally, i would say his coping mechanism isn't the worst. after all, he experiences so much world-shattering pain in such a short span of time, and he does deserve to preserve his childhood and his innocence for as long as possible. but, for the purposes of the narrative, the train must necessarily disagree. he must confront his grief head-on, without distracting himself from it or flying into a destructive rage that he'd only regret later. it also depends on who his companions are. with katara by his side, he can get through anything (and vice versa), but it's unclear who will be there to guide him through his pain. that said, i know he'd make it through okay. he's aang. he has to.

katara lives in a fairytale. like i said with aang, that's not really a bad thing. she's a great kid with big dreams and a big heart. she wants to save the world, and – guess what! – she does. but living in a storybook strips one's worldview of the nuances of life, not simply the harsh realities of the world, but also the full extent of one's personhood, outside of simply the black and white worldview of heroes and villains. katara's apotheosis is when she confronts yon rha, looks him in the eyes, and sees a human being staring back at her, another human being. she is no longer in a revenge tale. she is out of stories to tell herself. (life doesn't make narrative sense.) ironically, the train is a metaphor for storytelling, so katara coming to realize that she isn't in a story would both be confusingly meta and also fucking brilliant (if i do say so, personally). i don't know how exactly it would play out, but by god i would pay to see it.

in many ways, sokka is remarkably open-minded, and in many ways, sokka is extremely stubborn. i think he'd come to terms with his own emotional growth (which would be rooted in learning his own self-worth) faster than he'd come to terms with the train itself. "okay, fine, yeah, i deserve love regardless of what i can do for other people, but WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLACE?!?!?" his journey through the train is actually everyone else's dream experience on the train. passengers and denizens alike keep falling in love with him (or at the very least, admiring him more than they've ever admired anyone they've ever met), but he doesn't even notice because he's too busy being extremely suspicious of everything he comes into contact with. yes, he'll solve your problems and puzzles and help people and make meaningful connections and eventually he might start to realize that he is worth something even when he's alone, even (especially) when he's being unconventional or "weird" or "selfish." but even once he does get his door, does he walk through it? oh no, he takes it apart and tries to figure out how it just created a fucking portal. so while he would technically "do" quite well, he is never leaving that fucking train. rip sokka.

well, toph needs to learn to accept and embrace her own vulnerability. she definitely goes through that same crystal karaoke car tulip did. that, or the train just tortures her by putting her in increasingly more painful situations in which she must ask for help. but that's too awful to even think about, so i'm just gonna say she has to sing karaoke.

zuko needs to learn to trust his instincts and his own internal moral compass instead of the external pressures being forced upon him by his Father (capital F to emphasize that his nation & his father – aka the patriarchy – are one & the same for him, lmao). and he would fail. a lot. but eventually he would realize that his number goes down when he lets himself be himself, and he would leave the train happy. he probably also gets a bunch of cute little talking animal companions to guide him through. he deserves it.

the train appears to suki while she's having a breakdown in solitary confinement at the boiling rock. she finds healthy ways to cope with being put through hell while on the train, and by the time she gets off, she's being let out of solitary. it is a very rewarding experience, and one that she can swear wasn't just some hallucination. she's constantly telling herself yes, of course it was just a hallucination.... but still... it felt so real....

if i had to diagnose azula with one singular problem that plagues her at the core of her very being, it would have to be her fear of rejection. but it's not good enough to just keep having train cars reject azula, she has to accept that rejection, instead of just intimidating people into submission after the fact. she needs to understand why she is being rejected, and be fine with it, and learn from it, instead of letting her lack of universal perfection in every area anyone could ever excel in shake her to her very core. when ty lee proved that she secured the affections of dumb stupid boys better than azula ever could, she did an arson to cope (which of course is still very valid of her uwu). azula needs to learn to come in second place, third place, even last place, and shrug it off, think to herself, "hopefully i'll do better next time, and if not, that's okay also," and once that happens, everything else will fall into place. though maybe she could read bell hooks or smth at some point on the train cuz i think that could help too.

mai needs to stop being so goddamn depressed all the time. has she tried lexapro, or perhaps using a lightbox in winter? her favorite coping mechanism, knives, only helps her feel something some of the time, but most (if not all) of the time she's still being expected to play a part. has she tried, like, being herself? i heard from zuko (you know, the guy? from the train?) that "being yourself" works wonders. so the train gives her that opportunity. and she actually even enjoys herself for once in her miserable fucking life.

omg there must've been some sort of mistake ty lee was totally sent here by accident because she's actually super happy all the time and doesn't have any problems!!!!!!!! jk, can u even imagine? ty lee hates her life too, she just doesn't go around advertising it like mai does with her big dyke boots and depressing eyeliner. but apparently she also needs to learn how to "be herself," whatever that means. as if life isn't a constant performance, you know, like jacques said or whatever. she sees mai on the train. she rolls her big beautiful brown eyes. "oh god, not you too."

[esther-dot]

Fans always blame Sansa for spreading Jon secret and sending him to NW in s8 to prove that she didn't love Jon. But have no problems with Jon continue to act like KITN even after knowing his parentage, Tyrion betraying everyone, Dany being tyrant, Jon, Tyrion, Davos and GW for complicit in KL destruction and Bran decision to send him Wall for killing a tyrant. Ary@ never question Bran decision either. If they want to blame Sansa, they better should acknowledge their faves actions first.

I really enjoy how half the fandom persists in acting like Dany murdering women and children is an oopsie, but Sansa breaking a promise to Jon is unforgivable.

Dany burning KL is a major plot point that even some Dany fans now admit will happen in the books too. They merely suggest some casual mass murder is forgivable when it comes to their girl. 👀 But, even they know this is one of the Martin things D&D were working with. So, unless they’re condemning Dany, they need to shut the fuck up about Sansa.

On the other hand, Sansa telling Tyrion Jon’s identity wasn’t necessary to what transpired at all. Dany was already talking about attacking KL with dragons in s7 (Tyrion had explained about her dad and the Wildfire back in s6 I think? Hence his “we’ve discussed this” comment) and that was before Dany ever met Sansa, was rejected by the North, or knew about Jon’s parentage. Dany was always going to burn KL, and Sansa breaking her promise was so inconsequential, the director of 8x04 made comments about Tyrion putting two and two together, as if he figured it out himself. I’m assuming D&D just forgot what they approved for 8x04 when writing/directing the finale (in which Tyrion says Sansa told him), but at some point the idea was that Tyrion pointed to Jon riding a dragon as proof of him being a Targ, so uh...seeing as that happened and everyone saw it before Jon knew about his parentage, acting like Sansa was instrumental in any of this is hot garbage they included for no reason (other than to pander to her rabid haters 🤬).

Also, as much as the story is pretty nonsensical for the last few seasons, just as fans should see Dark Dany pretty clearly in hindsight, they also should see how D&D were building up to Jon killing Dany to protect her. I thought Jon would betray her before s8, but I will admit, looking back, I should have known it would end with Jon killing Dany. That’s why they had Jon swear to protect Sansa and then be overprotective of her from their reunion on. That’s why we got the kill bill sirens thing (which everyone recognized, even non Jonsas) and why we had that unprecedented violence come from him when he tried to beat Ramsay to death with his hands and when he wanted to choke LF. That was all groundwork for Jon to do something else unprecedented to protect Sansa, killing a woman + kinslaying. Sansa’s promise breaking feels like a weird way to just sour everything in the end, not something that was seasons in the making like our two other big s8 moments.

Now, I think if you don’t hate Sansa, Sansa’s actions feel like an attempt to save Jon from himself. Jon knows what Dany will do to Sansa (who Dany hates from their first meeting on), so we can read him swearing Sansa to secrecy less a selfish thing, and more, the best he can do in the situation. He wants his family to know the truth. The Starks deserve to know the truth about their father, that he was an even better man than they knew, and Jon thinks he is going to die in the South. But, knowing the truth jeopardizes the Starks, swearing them to secrecy is protecting them, while also honoring Ned. Jon is fearful when he tells them his identity, it was played as if he feared rejection, so I just don’t think of it as a self-serving thing at all. And Sansa breaking her word (because that is how I interpreted what happened when watching s8, regardless of later revelations by the director), wasn’t self-serving either. She looked distraught, she thought Jon was going to die, and it is the realization that Tyrion is afraid of Dany that makes her realize, Jon was terrified of Dany too. His treatment of her wasn’t born out of greater loyalty to Dany (telling them the truth was evidence that he was more loyal to them than her), it was grounded in fear. She wanted someone to act to help Jon, to give him a chance of escape, she didn’t know Tyrion was in love with Dany (the man had literally just been talking about remarrying her), so she had no reason to believe he would turn around and confess to Dany. Sure, that was never going to end well for Dany, but since when are we supposed to take the invader’s side? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyway, you’re totally right that Tyrion ended up just betraying everyone. He helped Dany take Westeros and get her hands on the North by lying to get Jon to Dragonstone (talked about an alliance, didn’t mention bending the knee being a requirement), and then when given the chance to act against her before it was too late, signed Varys death warrant instead of trying to stop her. He also freed Jaime going against her wishes and then when his family died because his queen did what she had been wanting to do all along, he quit. The divided loyalty idea is certainly a thing, but better writers would write the complexity into the situation, the anguish of being torn in different directions, and not settle on flip flops every other scene.

I think Jon becoming complicit in war crimes is an important aspect to all of this that D&D truly didn’t consider. In their minds, Jon did nothing wrong, and I think that’s because, Jon wasn’t meant to be an incomprehensible mess, he too was meant to be caught in an impossible situation, and he was meant to do the best he could given the threat Dany was to Westeros. For whatever reason, they wrote two contradictory versions of Jon instead of following through on the stuff from s7 (and 8x01 and tidbits throughout the final season) in which his decision to kneel is about saving his people and his loyalty/priorities never changed. It’s a shame that they didn’t dedicate themselves to his story, or even clarify what it was. They simultaneously wanted Jon to be a badass when he marched into KL, while also wanting us to realize what happened in KL was horrific. They wanted us to see Dany’s actions as wrong, and also wanted a mouthpiece for her fans to defend her in the finale. If they had used Tyrion that way, it could have worked because he remained loyal even after he watched her burn POWs alive, something Jon didn’t know about. And, Tyrion was fine with waging war for a throne, it made sense for him to be on Dany’s side, but Jon cared abotu the survival of humanity, so the idea that he was a believer in Dany who made it clear she cared more about a crown them that makes no sense, especially not after he watched her burn KL. Anyway, they could have used him to illustrate how good men are dragged into horrible situations by bad rulers and how they become complicit in crimes they lack the power to stop, but nope. D&D truly didn’t think about what they did to Jon because he revolved around Dany and had no real story of his own in s8. Unreal.

As for Bran permitting Jon to be punished, I think this too revolved around Dany as a way to cater to her fans. I think it was meant to be about the sacrifices Jon, Bran, and Sansa were willing to make to ensure peace for Westeros, but since D&D didn’t care about the Starks, very little about their actions make sense. It’s pretty amazing that D&D chose to downplay the fantasy aspects of the series only to neglect to set up the political endgame. So many mistakes were made in the writing, but any unbiased observer knows that Sansa’s actions s6-8 made the most sense and were the most morally justifiable of all the mains.

[thedeviljudges]

What do we think about Min Jung Ho as the eponymous Medea of ep 15 - he's 'abandoned' by Gaon so seeks to destroy Gaon's new beau, and he sacrifices both his 'children', ostensibly for the greater good but really just to serve his vendetta against Yohan. I know we all love to hate him, but I find him interesting because tbh he's not actually wrong about the societal/legal impact of Yohan's actions. (Lest you think I'm defending him, there's a part 2 to this!)

Min Jung Ho cont: I *do* think he genuinely cares about the justice system, but his convictions are undermined by a) his ambition and b) his hypocrisy. He can tell himself til he's blue in the face that he sold out to ensure there was a ‘righteous’ voice where it could be heard/make a difference, and maybe that's true to a degree, but mostly he was just concerned with his own legacy. And ultimately he’s just another ‘end justifies the means’ guy, which is exactly what he rails against in Yohan.

nah i don't see it as defending. there ARE interesting "villians" and he is definitely one of them, not so much because he is truly evil. he is just a man who ended up corrupted by politics, which is literally anyone in politics tbh. it's a reflection of the things humankind is willing to excuse/tolerate for their own impulsive and selfish desires.

i think he cared about justice at one point, but when sunah introduced herself and fed him lies under the guise of justice, that's when things spoiled. because look, when someone is telling you that if you do this and you do that with an end result you've always wanted to see, then why not go for it? why not try it? especially if it works in the favor of your unconscious bias. the only thing about MJH is that he didn't take into consideration just how much he'd hurt people, especially soohyun. because i'm sure in his mind he figured he'd do wrong by them but he'd be forgiven. they'll understand one day, which is what he told gaon. but uh, well, yikes.

i think you're very right about him, but i would say again, in the beginning, it wasn't so much about his legacy. those delusions definitely came much later and most likely as he continued to witness yohan's descent into chaos. i wouldn't be surprised if that was the catalyst for trying to have a savior complex because if he could stop yohan, then him and his team would have prevailed. his savior complex beforehand wasn't as grandiose until it inflated too big by the end of it all.

but he's definitely one of those characters, and a reflection of people, about how it's so easy to lie to yourself and lie to others about your intent. you can definitely tell everyone one thing—that you're doing this for one reason or another but deep down, the truth is there. and it's also an internal battle within yourself, trying to convince yourself that that's not actually what it's about, and i think that was what MJH struggled with, too. it wasn't so much about convincing gaon as much as himself that what he was doing was for the greater good until it was too late.

(for a terrible example, imagine you wanting that cookie. you know deep down you want to eat it, but you're telling yourself you don't actually want it. the truth sits there, and it's easy to ignore, and your actions and words may point in every direction of you not wanting it, but that truth is still there, buried and your unintentional actions, the ones that are not so obvious, prove otherwise. the way you eye the cookie, maybe opt for a different, less caloric sweet. but the signs are there no matter but only if others paid attention).

which makes it even funnier, in a not funny way, simply because it's so easy to point fingers and place blame on others who are doing wrong (because to your point, MJH was right about injustice, to an extent) without looking at yourself and your own actions. what does it mean that someone can do wrong but your actions, which are also wrong, are okay because it serves a different, "better" purpose? pot calling kettle black, lmao.

MJH is what happens when we don't look at our actions, when we're too self-righteous, and we forget to humble ourselves. and we know he was so far gone because he could've put a stop to everything after soohyun died, and yet he didn't. he kept going, thoroughly convinced yohan was the bigger issue, which says a fucking lot, doesn't it? how deep in vengence do you have to be to continue on like an attack dog when someone you were supposed to care for and love died because of your decisions and involvement?

and to that i can also say that it parallels sunah, too. because girl had every opportunity to stop what she was doing, especially finding out she unintentionally helped the elite experiment on people. she could have gone to yohan and worked with him and yet she didn't because of pride? like, she cried over the girl she saw herself in and then still did nothing about it. makes a lot of sense why MJH chose sunah and himself over his own family, then.

[averykedavra]

joan - what do you wish the series would cover next, or what kind of turn would you want to see it take?

!! okay this is a really fun question. ‘cause i’ve thought about this a lot. timeline-wise, I only got really involved with the fandom around the release of ATHD, and ever since then i’ve really enjoyed imagining the “next” events of the series. sometimes theories, sometimes just AUs, but it’s always fun!

and see, there are tons of things i’d love to explore in the context of canon. like sides switching from light to dark, or a side shutting themselves off, or serious backstory elements like the formation of roman and remus. tons of stuff that’d be super cool to think about.

but they’re not stuff i’d actually want in canon necessarily, you know? and they’re mostly not stuff i’d ever expect canon to actually do. so here’s a little incomplete list of things i’d love to actually see in the series, and which I think are (semi)-plausible:

1. Roman’s arc. had to add this one. I’m pretty sure it’s coming up after PoF (and it better) and I am so, so excited. roman’s been a slow-boiling pot of emotional turmoil for a while now and I just wanna see it spill over!

and look. don’t get me wrong, i love the pintroverts so much, but—yeah, i really wanna see thomas and nico go through a rough patch. thomas, and by extension roman, are pinning so many expectations on nico. they’re emotionally unready and using nico like a way to redeem themselves and feel better, instead of confronting their own issues. not to say the relationship can’t work out, but i can figure there’ll be some bumps on the road.

and possible failure with nico would be a great catalyst for roman’s full breakdown. he’s got everything riding on this guy! he calls nico “a chance at happiness”! and he’s the romantic side, he wants this to work out, so thomas will trust him again. and if it fails, it’ll break roman into tiny, tiny pieces.

plus, i know the season finale is probably going to be a two-parter, like with virgil’s episode? and i don’t know if i actually want roman to duck out, but i am really excited for some parallels to virgil’s arc. acceptance instead of redemption, being more than your function, every side being valued, and virgil and roman continuing to become closer together. if i do not get a remix of “you make us better” but virgil to roman, i will riot /j

2. Logan’s arc. then following roman, our braincell boy! logan is another steaming pile of issues who’s been repressing for far too long. i want to see him admit he has feelings. i want to see him cry. maybe this is the angst demon in me, but come on, he deserves it.

an aspect of logan that’s really fascinating to me is his relation to thomas’ own self-image and needs. logan defines himself by his use to thomas—he has the least belief in himself as a separate entity. and he’s felt sidelined for a long time, possibly ever since thomas became a youtube.

i think it’d be super interesting to see more of how their dynamic was before thomas made the career switch, how logan feels about it, and how his “lack of feelings” is an extension of his refusal to acknowledge his own personhood. he doesn’t let himself want or feel—and he’s actually kinda similar to roman in that regard. roman and logan are narrative foils in a lot of ways. which would make it kinda cool if their arcs were somewhat consecutive—logan helps roman value himself, and roman returns the favor.

oh, and i’d love it if virgil and logan could come full circle, too? virgil comforts logan during the whole thing, maybe even talking to him about cognitive distortions or using techniques logan taught him to destress. they’re really good friends and i wanna see more of that.

3. Janus becoming part of the group. i have so many feelings about janus. he’s poised to join the gang and start helping thomas from the inside, but his acceptance is still conditional, fragile, and fragmented. roman loathes him, logan resents him, and virgil has a history with him. and janus is gonna have to try and get through all that.

i already love his dynamic with patton, i really want them to be friends. i think a logan and janus debate would be fucking fantastic. i am begging for roman and janus to talk things out. and i really, really want to see virgil and janus become friends again.

but maybe what i’m most interested in is janus himself, and his relationship to thomas. i still love interpreting the “is that fair to him” line as referencing janus’ complex and difficult role as the keeper of all lies. he’s still hiding an orange side from us, probably, and he’s trying to keep everything stable.

what happens if he slips up? what happens if he gets close to patton and starts having new priorities? how did that affect his relationship with virgil? i want to really explore janus’ character and motivations.

and also janus and remus content. give it. this is an order.

4. Remus. Literally anything remus. Please I’m starving, I just want to see my trash boy, when will he return from the war?

Seriously, though, I’d love more remus. his thoughts on nico. his motivation, his daily life, his relationship with janus and the other sides. i think he could really be great friends with all of them if he was given time to settle, and my intruality heart says he deserves to be chaotic besties with patton.

and! and his relationship with roman!! i really wanna see them grow closer and be bros, while working through the deep complexities of their issues with one another. because right now roman has so many projections of remus as his worst enemy and the epitome of everything he doesn’t wanna be, and remus just…doesn’t care about all that. that’s so interesting!!

remus is just such a refreshing character in so many ways. he’s so blunt and open and honest, he doesn’t hide or repress anything, and that’d be so much fun to explore! plop him in the middle of the other sides and see how long it takes for stuff to explode. i wanna see him break the status quo just because he can.

5. Patton’s arc. oh, you thought his character development was done? not even close. he learned a lot from moving on, but pof proved he still has a long way to go. and tbh I think he’s in a really precarious position right now.

yeah, he’s finally opening up to janus and the others. but he’s also very vulnerable, very unsure, and very ready to throw himself out of the picture if thomas needs him to. he asked if janus thought patton was just bad for thomas, and he seemed ready to take that advice and leave thomas be.

which is. concerning. and I think as patton learns to pull back and let thomas--and everyone--stand on their own without him smothering them, as he learns to have faith in others and not feel pressured to fix everything himself, he needs to work on his own self-worth, too.

patton, like a lot of the sides, is separating himself from his function. and that’s gonna be painful and messy and probably include a lot of backsliding. i wanna see him talk to the others, really talk to them, and get the support from his friends he needs! and that includes:

6. virgil continuing to support his friends. virgil has been doing great character-development-wise, but again, he has far to go! and what I want to see more of is stuff like FWSA. him beginning to truly support his friends in the way they’ve supported him.

his friendships with roman and logan are so sweet and I wanna see more of that. please. and I wanna see him bond with remus and janus again, and most of all, I want patton and virgil to really sit down and talk about stuff. they’ve been going through it for a while and I want them to talk.

the sad part, of course, is that post-pof they’re probably in an even worse place. there’s a reason patton didn’t show up in FWSA even when matters of the heart were involved. they’re on thin ice around each other, and throwing janus and roman into it will just make everything more complicated.

but I believe in them! they’re good friends, and I think if they try, they can work through it and learn more about each other.

7. bonding between the dark and light sides. basically already covered this one but guys. i want everyone to bond. i want logan and remus sharing cool facts. i want janus and virgil being snarky best friends. i want patton and remus teaming up to make stuff happen, and janus calling logan out on his repression, and virgil and remus listening to mcr and just. them, okay? them. glad we had this talk.

8. a breaking down of the dark sides and light sides altogether. i don’t necessarily mean anyone becomes a dark side (although it’s such a fun idea.) I mean really digging into the morality and formation of the “sides”, and eventually dismantling them.

the dark and light sides aren’t good and evil. they’re sides that thomas wants around, that are useful, and sides he doesn’t. and as janus becomes wanted at the table, and as patton and roman pull away and become less useful, it’ll be interesting to see how those dynamics shift.

the issue of identity is really at the heart of sanders sides. how much of you is you, and how much of it is what others want? are you beholden to others’ expectations, and how do you find personal worth? what defines you--by what measure is a man? how does a person change and grow? can they? or are they always, at the core, what they began as?

these questions obviously don’t have simple answers, but they’re stuff I wanna see talked about. i want to see the difficulty of even finding the line between selfishness and selflessness when you exist to serve another self. actions can be selfish and selfless all at once, a mass of contradictions that’s anything but black and white. and I wanna see more of that.

an idea I toy with sometimes is having a brief, or not so brief, reversal of dark sides and light sides. remus and janus, and maybe virgil, become more listened to. and roman, patton, and logan become the sides in the background. i dunno if it would actually happen, but I think it’d be interesting to consider--because once again, it’s about use versus value and wants versus needs.

if thomas wants a side, will they stick around? what about if he only wants to want them? what if he wants them as a friend but doesn’t need their function? what if they don’t think he wants them? what if any number of things?

i want to see discussion and deconstruction of the sides as a whole. i want to see them really dig deep into their purpose and formation. i want everything laid bare. and then finally, I want:

9. thomas ends the series by letting go of the sides. i am such a fucking sucker for bittersweet open endings like that. it wouldn’t be a full erasure of the sides, they’d still exist in the mind palace, probably hanging out and having movie nights and being a family. but they wouldn’t talk to thomas anymore.

i think it could be a really profound note about not only letting go of parts of your life and moving forward, but how c!thomas should work to stand on his own. yes, the sides are parts of him, but he’s more than the combination of their input. he’s his own person. he’s real. and I think he needs to work on being more self-reliant, in the moment, and start to discover his identity not in pieces, but as a whole.

the sides weren't bad for him. not in the slightest. they’ve helped him understand and come to terms with any number of things. but sometimes people grow and move forward, and they have to say goodbye to some parts of their life. that’s a fact. and with the ongoing theme of moving on and chasing the future, i think thomas would reasonably do that--end the series with a goodbye.

10. and...orange side. i’ve talked a lot about my ideas for the orange side, but suffice it to say, i’m looking forward to them. whoever they end up being.

so yeah, that’s a very long post about my ideas that isn’t half as long as it could be dhfgsjhs i’ve considered writing something like a canon divergence AU, or just rambling on tumblr, but for now that’s what I got. and this is all to say, hire me, sanders sides writing team /j