#think of how many women never got that Justice

[karengillanslefteyebrow]

Brb gonna don my mourning cloak for all of the writings of women that were plagiarized or altogether never discovered

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel:

Human!Alastor x Housewife!Reader

~Understanding Asexuality~

Warnings‼️- Established relationship, angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader, maybe OOC Alastor??, mentions of cannibalism but only for like one sentence.

Setting is Alastor’s time period, 1900-1930s.

A/N: I hope I did Alastor’s character justice! He might be slightly out of character?? I can’t imagine him actually getting in a relationship, I mean man is literally a serial killer- so I tried- ENJOY

~I would also like to say, I am not asexual or aromatic myself. This is just my take on Alastor’s sexuality/how he handles it. If I made any mistakes, please correct me but I tried to be as respectful as possible. I tried to do some research on the history of asexuality during the time period, but remember I am not perfect and this is a FAKE scenario with a FICTIONAL character.~

You like to think you know your husband like the back of your hand.

The two of you got married young, falling hard for the young radio host was easy. Many other maidens had, their affections for Alastor painfully obvious. All the while Alastor had no plans on perusing any of the women who fancied him. He was love blind, not really understanding the amount of people attracted to him, or why they were.

What wasn’t to like? He was an attractive young man, charming, and a true gentleman. But the idea of settling down, having to commit himself to one individual the rest of his life, didn’t appeal to him.

Especially with how tainted his brain was with his little hobbies.

He never got the special feeling everyone spoke about. Butterflies, increased heart palpitations, sweaty palms. The mere thought of it was enough to have his face contorting in mild disgust.

That opinion didn’t change when he met you. There was no ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. You were polite and put together and that was something Alastor could appreciate. He didn’t quite understand your advances towards him. Seeing your interest towards him as friendly banter, while you saw his reactions to it as rejection.

You accepted his dismissal of your feelings, knowing you had given it your best shot. It didn’t stop Alastor from adoring your company. Whether it be on the dance floor or attending the diner you worked at. You were an incredible friend to him, nothing more.

Safe to say, Alastor didn’t suddenly catch feelings for you. There was no sudden change in his feelings.

But there were whispers

Unwanted Attention being brought on Alastor.

Gossip was high. Many mouths questioning Alastor’s true intent with you. Why was he always along side such a pretty thing without courting her? Were the two of you involved in secret affairs?

The theories grew, and while Alastor loved the attention being a radio host brought him, gossip was bad if he needed to keep his personal life under wraps. Besides, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let others tarnish your good name? Getting with you was more of an effort to fit into norms rather than it being for ‘true love’.

Slowly he showed signs of affection towards you. Holding your hand in public, taking you on more proper dates, even kissing your cheek once or twice when he saw hushed whispers from nearby crowds. The affection was sudden, but not unwelcome to you. Your feelings had never truly gone away for the radio host, and you pinned his original rejections on him being shy.

It wasn’t long after his advances he asked your official partnership. To be frank, you were easy and Alastor needed a cover. His true intentions were cruel, but you were blindsided by your longtime crush and friend being interested in you.

But you weren’t completely naïve.

While yes, you loved Alastor with all your heart, you knew in the back of your mind he had ulterior motivations. Every chaste kiss, every hand hold, every hug, felt rushed and nervous. Your whole relationship with Alastor felt fast paced, as only a few months after having the gall to ask you out, he was asking you to marry him.

It felt forced.

The feeling you tried to ignore, hoping it was just your insecurities causing the sinking feeling in your gut. You of course said yes to Alastor’s proposal. Knowing deep down you loved him and should not question if he did so in return.

Before you knew it, you were dressed in white in front friends and family, listening to wedding bells chime gleefully.

You could recall joyous laughter and dancing, talking about your soon future with the radio host whose last name you had now shared. Sharing drinks with friends to celebrate you ‘winning’ over Alastor. It all moved so fast yet you were happy with the results.

Alastor couldn’t have agreed more considering the chatter about the two of you had died down ever since his proposal. (Besides a few heartbroken maidens who heard the handsome host was officially off the market) Less eyes were on him which was good for the estranged hobbies he would indulge in.

You and Alastor moved in together and it felt like smooth sailing.

Until the next thing people expected from the two of you. That of course being children.

Alastor and you would constantly hear all about the subject from your mother, who was desperate to have some grandkids running around. At the mention of children you felt flustered and embarrassed, considering you and Alastor had yet to be intimate with one another.

It was through the subject, however, that sinking feeling returned. As your mother rambled on about grandchildren, you occasionally piped in with your own opinion. When your husband realized having children was something you actually wanted, you caught him grimacing at the idea.

The look he gave made your heart feel heavy in your chest. The sinking only worsened when he begrudgingly agreed with your mother, saying how the two of you would provide her with grandchildren with time.

Forced.

You felt guilty. You knew Alastor was lying with his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to seduce your husband before. It was actually something you expected to happen and for the radio host to initiate.

Alastor would be lying if he said he didn’t start to feel genuine fondness towards you. You knew him well, better than any other friend he had.

You knew his schedule, his habits, his preferences. It scared him how much you could read his mind like a book. All the reason more to keep you sheltered away from how cruel of a man he truly was.

You were simply too good for him. Too innocent.

But when it came to intimacy, the radio host showed absolutely no interest. Coming up with one excuse after another to not be intimate with you. His rejection left you feeling unwanted and almost abandoned. Your own husband didn’t seem to enjoy your affections and it hurt your heart. You started to question if you were the cause of his discomfort. Was he just not attracted to you? Were you being too pushy?

Your mind even wandered to the late nights Alastor would stay out. Was he seeing someone else, perhaps? He could have anyone he wanted really, despite your marriage, there were many women who would still flirt with him. Had one caught his eye that he favored over you?

Anxiety and insecurity riddled your body for a long time before you started to search for possible answers. After work, you would head to a library of the outskirts of town. You didn’t want anyone you knew possibly catching you wildly scanning through books for possible answers.

The library didn’t provide much comfort. You found unsatisfactory answers, many of which ended in advice on how to ‘properly seduce a man’.

You didn’t want to force your husband to be intimate with you. Making desperate attempts that would ultimately be denied as they had been in the past.

You dug a little deeper, with a lot of the same results. You were just at your wits end with all the repetitive failure to find anything that felt right. However, one article caught your eye. A book that had dusted over from the lack of acknowledgment. Out of luck you reached for it, hoping to find any answers. Reading through the contents, it opened a whole new world of terminology and knowledge about a community you didn’t know existed.

You found comfort knowing there were possibly other people like your husband. That his rejections could possibly be the cause of something else other than you. You decided to take the article home with you, along with a few others, to read into it more at home.

————————————————————————

Through your research, you had started to understand your husband’s behavior more and more. You wouldn’t truly know the answers unless you had simply asked him, but at the same time, it felt better to consider this an option than to believe something was wrong with your marriage.

There were other people who exhibited traits your husband showed when it came to intimacy. Those who didn’t enjoy such pleasures or desires. It was a spectrum, one that you had never heard of. But it all made sense the more you read into different people’s experiences.

Some people’s stories you read stated how intimacy rarely crossed their mind. Before, you had only heard stories of friends being hyper sexual, with high sex drive that would oftentimes cause high gossip. It made sense that there were bound to be people at the other end of the stick, who felt the opposite. Of course they could acknowledge it was a thing. However the need/want to experience such things would rarely and sometimes never spark. It didn’t make these people strange or less human, it was simply how they felt.

You hear the door swing open, interrupting your thoughts. You swear to yourself silently, hurrying to close the books and articles you were reading up on. You shove the disorganized papers into the large book, then shove it underneath the table, out of view. You stand, brushing off your dress, and quickly go over to the stove.

“Hi honey! You’re home early.” You shout across the house to your husband. You grab your apron, messily tying the back of it.

“Oh I finished up early today, thought you would enjoy the surprise.” Alastor’s voice responds, his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Grabbing a pot, you fill it with water as Alastor enters the room. He approaches you, putting a finger under your chin and bringing you closer. He gives your cheek a small peck, his fingers barely grazing your hip.

Forced.

You smile towards your lover, setting the full pot over the unlit stovetop. Adrenaline runs through your veins as you watch Alastor go and sit at the table. You clear your throat, avoiding looking at your husband. You open up the cabinets, looking around for ingredients to start on supper.

“How was your day, love?” You ask, trying to be as casual as you could. Alastor caught on to your anxiety, but decided to ignore it. He hummed, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“As normal as any other, dear. There was actually quite the crazy story, today about-..” Alastor went on about his radio show and the topics he had covered. You nod occasionally to show you could hear him, but his words didn’t really process in your head. You couldn’t focus with you heart drumming in your ears. Pulling out random ingredients from the cabinets, trying to think of anything to make for dinner, Alastor continues to speak. His voice a source of comfort despite him unknowingly being the cause of your anxious behavior.

“..they apparently continued their actions anyway! Don’t these men have any class? I swear to you the nerve of… some.. folk..” You tuned back into Alastor’s rambling just as he hear him start to trail off. You hear his seat pull back, making a creaking noise as he leans back and looks under the table. Feeling his gaze on you for a moment, you don’t dare to look back at your husband. He had seen what you tried to poorly hide.

Alastor leans down, grabbing the book with articles sticking out of the side. He hums, opening the book a skimming over the contents of what he found.

“Darling, what’s all this?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing as he read through the article. Tensing at his tone, you avoid looking towards him and keep quiet. Your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. Your voice was caught in your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse.

It takes a moment to gain your composure. Eventually you speak, after clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump stuck there.

“I was just.. doing some reading.. on uhm..” Gosh, this was embarrassing to admit. Your face flushes to pink as you continue, “I just had some concerns.. I suppose I was feeling a bit insecure about our relationship-..”

“Our relationship?” Alastor questions, staring daggers into your back. His tone showing signs of irritation and discomfort. You turn towards your husband. There was no hiding how you felt now. You couldn’t lie to him when he had the evidence in his hands.

“I.. suppose I was worried.. for my own selfish reasons. I got to wondering why you didn’t seem attracted.. to me.” Alastor glares slightly at your words, drumming his fingers against the table. He knew exactly what you meant with your words, his nose instinctively cringing up in mild disgust. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off quickly by you.

“I know it’s something silly to be concerned about, it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I shouldn’t have questioned you. Dare I say it was wrong of me.” You quickly tried to explain to ease your husbands silent anger.

Alastor stayed quiet, teeth gritting as his all too fake smile cracked at the seems. He felt on edge. He couldn’t have you questioning him like this, opening him up and making him vulnerable. You made him question how well he was really hiding his true identity. You could tap in to what he was feeling and it irked him. He cleared his throat, interwining his fingers together to create a cradle for his chin to sit.

“I don’t see how your concerns are important, dear. Our relationship is fine without such activities. Do you not believe that to be true? I love you, do I not?” Alastor asked, a small smile plastered on his face.

Forced

“Do you?” You find yourself asking before you can process the question yourself. Alastor’s wide eyes make you replay your words. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. What were you thinking??

Both you and your husband stay quiet for a period of time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Alastor breaks his gaze, looking towards the wallpaper design in the kitchen that suddenly interested him. Your voice catches in your throat. It felt like you couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. Heavy weight on your chest when you uttered the question you’d been keeping inside since you said your I do’s.

Taking a breath to regain yourself, you look towards the stove. Scattered abandoned ingredients of what dinner was supposed to be left there. You glance towards Alastor, voice barely a whisper as you speak to him.

“I understand..” Your muttered voice doesn’t reach him, causing him to look at you and turn his head. You see him in your peripheral vision, then repeat yourself;

“I understand if you don’t.. or if you don’t want to partake in any.. intimate actions with me..” You start, grabbing a potato that had been abandoned on the counter. You start to rinse it under the sink water.

“From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. There apparently are men and women alike who don’t share an interest for sexual acts and behaviors. You’re not the only one..”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.. I’m not trying.. to make you feel bad. I just wanted to understand.. and I do. Please let me.”

Alastor stares at you while you speak. His silence feels like rejection. The same rejection you felt when you had first met him, but this was worse. Your heart ached, your chest felt tight, and your eyes felt like they were drowning in welled up tears.

You loved Alastor.

But never would you force him to return it.

You hear your husband stand from his place at the table, slow steps walking towards you. You feel his presence behind you. You silently prepare yourself for an onslaught of ‘how dare you’s and ‘who do you think you are’s.

Instead you feel warm hands hook underneath your arms, pulling you back towards Alastor’s body. Your body tenses, as you drop the vegetable you were once washing into the sink. Alastor leaned forward, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. Leaning down and hugging you tight.

Flood gates open as soft tears spill down your flushed cheeks. You gently hold onto Alastor’s arm with one hand, trying to stay perfectly still as if your husband were a stray animal. As if you move, he’d flinch away.

Alastor pulls away from your neck, looking at your face. His hand reaches up, standing straight, as he caresses one of your cheeks. He smears the tears across your cheek in an attempt to wipe them away, before leaning into you. Breath hitting yours before his lips meet yours.

Authentic

You’d never felt such a gentle and loving kiss from your husband. It felt so genuine and kind. You kiss back weakly, only hoping to make him feel the warm feeling he gave you.

Alastor never truly did understand his admiration for you. He never regretted marrying you. Of course you were always a good friend for him, one that he would work hard to keep safe. To keep you hidden away from who he was. Your happiness was always in the back of his mind as an essential. Sure he hated how you read him so easily, like it was second nature. But he hated it because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be safe.

He hated it because a part of him did love you.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor keeps you close to him, watching more soft tears fall down your face. He brings his other hand up, letting you face him while he grabs out a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the tears on your face, he looks at you with such soft eyes. Such genuine eyes.

“Thank you.” Is all he says. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. You wanted more than anything a long list of answers to all your worries.

But invisible weight lifts off your shoulders. Closing your eyes and letting out a breath that felt much deserved to let go. It was a solution, an answer no matter how much it truly did explain. You had made an effort to understand your husband, when most would force their ways through the barriers he set around himself. That was something Alastor could appreciate.

He never understood why you took the time in your life to be patient. Be understanding. How an angel like you ended up with the demon he was.

But he hoped you wouldn’t regret it just the way he never regretted you.

——————————BONUS———————————

“…and I told her, if she ever had a problem with him again, take it up with me! And just like that, her husband was on a platter! Such a shame, his body was almost as disgusting as his behavior!”

Alastor sipped his tea as he listened to Rosie ramble. He never broke his gaze away from her, hanging on to every word she had to say. He delicately set down his cup on the porcelain saucer. Everything about Rosie.. her charm, her personality, her humor.

It all lead back to the thought of you. Someone he admired and felt comfortable with.

“Are you alright, Al? You’re kinda gawking over there..” Rosie asked, practically seeing the gears turning in Alastor’s head. Alastor blinked out of his thoughts, watching Rosie give a smile at him and tilt her head.

“I’m fine, dear, it’s just..” Alastor glanced to the side, his signature smile softening into something genuine. “You remind me of someone.” He explained quietly.

The mention raised Rosie’s interest, ready for any gossip Alastor had to spill. She leaned in close, grinning ear to ear. “Ooo! Don’t be shy, who do I remind ya of?”

Alastor looked at Rosie and he could’ve sworn that in her midnight eyes, he could see yours. Staring back at him through his soul. How could he describe you? Someone who just knew him despite how hard he tried to hide. Someone who acknowledged him over and over again despite his own uncertainties.

“She was the dearest darling to ever grace the earth.” Alastor found himself muttering. Rosie melted at the compliment he not only gave you, but her as well. She saw genuine adoration in the radio demons eyes when he spoke of you.

While what you had with Alastor wasn’t entirely real, he wouldn’t have exchanged your marriage for anything. After all, when everyone else didn’t and refused to.

You understood.

[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

[venerawrites]

Vi reuniting with her significant-other after prison? The reader could be a mercenary, or a firelight, a baker, an artist(music and paint) just to name a few occupations they could have. I am not used to requesting, so please forgive me.

author's note: I think this request is so cute, I really loved doing it! I tis a bit angsty in the beginning, but it is fluffy at the end! <3 Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy! x

Nature always finds a way.

Even when surrounded by nothing but a cold, grey concrete, it managed to give birth to life.

Hope.

As she leaned against the wall, Vi gazed upon the big tree in front of her, focusing her attention on the gentle dance of the green leaves. Of course, she has seen trees before, in Piltover and on photographs, but never in Zaun.

In a way, she was both surprised and impressed with Ekko finding this place. She always thought she knew the city like the back of her hand, yet she had never stumbled over here. How many places were like that in the Undercity? How many places remained hidden, waiting to become a symbol of a new beginning?

"Your mind seems far away", a voice sounded next to her and Vi turned to her right, only to find Caitlyn's smiling face. Despite her gentle expression, there was a spark of worry in her eyes.

Interesting girl was she. One who has grown up in a closed bubble, protected by her family's money and influence, yet there was a fire inside of her, that made her different from the stereotypical Piltover person. She had a deep sense of justice and despite seeing the worst of Zaun, instead of turning her head to the side, she wanted to dig deeper and to know more.

Vi would lie if she said she did not judge her in the beginning. She was sure Caitlyn would not survive more than an hour down here. However, the girl kept making her raise her brows in surprise, completely changing her views about the people in the Topside.

"It is", the pink-haired girl finally answered, letting out a soft sigh in the process, "Somewhere far. Somewhere better."

And with someone else.

Biting her lip, she turned her attention to the few streaks of grass poking near her feet. She grasped one, pulling it out and bringing it in front of her eyes. Twirling it a few times, she carefully examined it, noting how the end was starting to turn yellow.

There was minute during which each of the women seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Caitlyn laid her palm on Vi's back, rubbing small circles on top of the clothed skin. She remained silent, but her gesture managed to ease the tension in the other female's muscles.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Vi shook her head, his eyes still focused on the little piece of grass in her fingers.

God, she wanted to talk. She needed to talk. But what was weighing on her mind, was something she couldn't share with anyone. Especially Caitlyn.

"No, I will be fin-"

"YOU LYING SNAKE!"

Before Vi could realise what was happening, she found herself on the floor pinned by your trembling body. The eyes, once so full of gentle love, which haunted her dreams almost every night, were now staring down at her full of rage. As your name rolled off her tongue, another set of hands got involved by grabbing you by the shoulders.

"Hey! Get off her!"

Whipping your head back, your eyes narrowed to slits once you saw the blue-haired enforcer. Your nose involuntarily scrunched, a clear sign you were far from happy of what, or more specifically who, was before you.

Ekko has already warned you Vi was back in the city and that she was accompanied by an enforcer, but you did not expect... well, her. In your mind, you had built the picture of an old, grumpy prison officer, not a young and pretty woman. Perhaps, you did not want to believe YOUR girlfriend would be giving someone like her a tour around Zaun, while completely forgetting your existence.

Your name was called again and you looked down, your expression softening once your eyes met those of Vi. Many emotions were swimming inside of them - happiness, guilt, pain, relief - all of which were making you wish for nothing more than to press her against your chest and hold her for hours. Your fingers twitched, but instead of embracing her, you landed a few harsh slaps against her shoulders.

"Stop!", Caitlyn shouted once more, grabbing your vest from the back. Instead of calming you down, however, this enraged you even more and you turned around, slapping her hands away.

The enforcer was not a woman who gave up easily, however.

"I demand you to stop!", your body froze as the command left her lips. You stayed still for a few seconds, during which only your heavy panting and the distant shouts of the children around the base could be heard.

"You demand me?", the words came out as a loud scoff and you lifted yourself from Vi, while eyeing the other girl with a mix of irritation and disbelief. With one long stride, you closed the distance between you and gabbed the front of her jacket.

"I demand you to shut your mouth and get your little ass out of here before I kick it so hard, you'll regret ever coming to the Undercity!"

Before things could escalate, you were pulled away by Vi, who held her arms tight around you, while nodding her head toward Caitlyn.

"Cait, give us-Stop it, damn it!", she groaned, tightening her hold, "Cait give us a few minutes!"

The blue-eyed enforcer stood frozen in her place, her worried gaze shifting from her friend to you and then back. You still fought back against Vi's grip, ignoring the feelings of warmth and nostalgia that you felt by being so close to her.

"Please?", the pink-haired woman said again and reluctantly, Caitlyn started walking slowly backward. Once she was far from earshot, Vi released her grip on you and took a step back, giving you some space. She opened her mouth to speak, but you were faster.

Without a word, you turned around and smacked your palm against her cheek. Her head whipped to the side and for a moment, it remained there, frozen. The usually pale skin flushed a deep red where your hand had made contact and your hand trembled, before hiding inside the warm comfort of your pants' pocket.

"I probably deserve that...", Vi mumbled, moving her jaw left and right while she rubbed the sore spot on her face. She took a shaky breath, regaining her composure, before lifting her face. With the corner of her eyes, she could see Caitlyn eyeing both of you with worry and she lifted her hand toward her, a gesture to show her she did not need to intervene. Yet.

The subtle communication did not stay hidden from you and let out an angry huff, before shaking your head. Rarely have you felt such intense emotions, especially since that night when... No. You couldn't go back down this memory lane. Not again.

"Oh, you deserve way more than that!", your tongue pushed against your cheek, biting back all of the colourful insults that were resting on the tip of it. The memories of all those lonely nights you spent crying, mourning, and wondering what happened to her, now hung between you like a dark cloud. No matter how much you have prepared to face her once again, all self-control and reason left your mind as soon as you laid your eyes on her.

"I know you're hurt, but please give me a chance to explain!", her voice was low and soft, an unusual sound for Vi, "Please, I-"

"What is there to explain? You left! You left me! You left Powder! You left Ekko...", with each name, the pain in your chest felt stronger. You closed your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line before your gaze involuntarily moved to your right, where in the distance the enforcer was nervously chewing her thumb while keeping her attention glued to both of you.

Narrowing your eyes, you grabbed Vi's hand before starting to drag her toward the nearby wood shack. In the beginning, when you joined the Firelights it was used as a storage for hoverboards, but as the members of your group grew, it was soon abandoned and left to collect dust. It was secluded and most importantly away from prying eyes and ears.

The pink-haired girl followed without resistance, giving a last reassuring nod to the Piltover girl, who was now being led away by another Firelight. From all of the scenarios she imagined through the years about your reunion, you pouncing on her was definitely not on the list. A hug, a kiss, maybe even a chance for her to finally show you how much she actually loved you - those were the fantasies that kept swirling around her head all morning when she thought of how should she handle your first meeting after so many years.

Hearing that you were now part of the Firelights was not a surprise. Just like her, you liked to resolve your problems with your fists, rather than talk, and like many young people part of the group, there was nothing that you wished for more than free Zaun. You were stubborn, hot-headed, and reckless, and gave Vi a headache more than once in the past.

Would she have it any other way, however? Absolutely not!

Despite your tough and fiery nature, you also possessed a surprising softness and gentleness, reserved for those closest to you. She often considered herself lucky by being able to see you like this - open and vulnerable, a harsh contrast with your usual combative demeanour. The memories of your many nights spent together, sharing warm cuddles and soft kisses, while your head rested on her shoulder as you talked about your future dreams, often resurfaced in Vi's mind, reminding her how effortlessly it was for you to make her fall in love with you.

Deep inside she foolishly believed that if she ever got the chance to be released from prison, everything would be the same. Powder would still be her little sister, seeking her approval; Ekko would be their smart-ass best friend, who spent too much time tinkering with random gadgets; and you, her first love and girlfriend, would patiently wait for her arrival, ready to promise her the future which you always dreamt about when you were little.

Now, as she stood in front of your furious figure, she felt almost foolish for having such expectations. Of course you would change, you were forced to, just like everyone else in Zaun. The hardships you had to face at such a young age shaped you into someone colder and more guarded.

"I am sorry."

The words fell quietly from Vi's mouth, as she watched your face, trying to find even a glimpse of the love you once carried for her. All that stared back, however, was fury and disgust.

"You are sorry? That's all you've got to say?", you let out a dry chuckle, your voice ringing with mockery. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed her up and down, finally having the chance to properly observe her appearance.

Vi has always been a beautiful woman, even if she never seemed to care much about her looks. She never bothered with fancy hairstyles or clothes, preferring practicality and comfort over style. Yet, she possessed a natural attractiveness, one that made you turn your head the first time you saw her.

Your eyes focused on her buzzcut, before sliding down her face and noting the numerous new piercings and a tattoo, that were now covering it. Her eyes, still as piercing as you remembered them, held the same fiery spark as before, despite being clouded by guilt. She was also taller and more muscular, now towering almost a full head above you.

"I didn't leave!", she finally said, her expression hardening, "That night..."

The words got stuck in her throat, as she let out an angry sigh and rubbed her calloused hands on her face. Her body slumped against the wooden wall behind her, the loud thud making you wince.

"That night I was taken against my will", she continued, her voice trembling, "By the Enforcers. I... After seeing the remains of the explosion and Powder, I just needed a minute. Some time to breathe, to realise what had happened..."

The rage that bubbled inside your chest just a minute ago slowly started to evaporate, replaced by a mix of caution and confusion. You never wanted to believe that she abandoned you - for years, you pushed this thought aside, not able to accept the idea that Vi is capable of doing something like this. Not to you or Powder.

But as the time passed, the hope you held that she was just hiding somewhere started to transform into suspicion. Seeing Powder becoming Jinx right in front of your eyes, claiming that her sister deserted her, also did not help ease your mind and soon you started to accept this version of the events more and more.

She left you. Alone.

As she continued speaking, telling you how she was thrown in Stillwater Hold, never prosecuted or charged, and beaten and tortured, your whole body tensed. Her words painted a picture of chaos and pain, something completely different from what you had imagined for her. You always thought that she was living her best life, somewhere far away from Zaun.

"Do you know how many times I thought of giving up? Of just accepting that this was the end?", her eyes lifted toward your face, the raw feelings behind them making your breath catch in your throat, "But then I thought of you. Of Powder. And I knew I had to find a way back to you."

Her words hung in the air, and there was a minute of silence, during which you assimilated what she had said. A part of you wished for your initial belief to be true - you spend such a long time resenting her for abandoning you, and to a certain extent you even made your peace with it. But now, as she spoke her truth, you were left both confused and heartbroken.

How could you deal with that?

"I thought I would never see you again", you finally said, your voice sounding way softer and gentler than it was before, "That you are living your life somewhere else... with someone else."

Vi's brows furrowed at your admission and she pushed herself away from the wall, before taking a few steps toward you.

"Did you really believe I would do that?", her accusation made you shrink in your place, "That I would just leave you and Powder by yourself? That I don't care?"

The mention of her sister sent a pang of sorrow through your heart. Everyone knew how hard it was for you to witness her transformation, especially since you fought for years to save her from Silco's influence and twisted games. It took a long time for you to accept the painful truth that she was beyond saving.

"Have you seen Powder?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, "Do you know what she has become?"

Her gaze fell down at her feet and she weakly moved her head up and down. Despite seeing it with her own eyes, it all still felt unreal. If she controlled her anger that night, if she never screamed at her sibling, if she didn't step back from her... Maybe everything would've been different.

"I tried, Vi", you shook your head, unable to even look at her eyes, "I tried so hard, but Silco had his claws in her mind, filling it with lies. I couldn't... I couldn't save her. I don't know if anyone can. Even you..."

The woman's face fell - this was the second time she was told there was no hope for her sister anymore. She wanted to argue, to tell you that she could reach her, save her, but deep down she knew what your response was going to be. You were always honest to a fault, wearing your heart on your sleeve, and while Vi always loved that about you, she was not ready to hear the truth. Even if she already knew it.

Closing the gap between you, she cupped your cheek, gently running her thumb across the skin. You instinctively leaned toward it, seeking the feeling of warmth and comfort that you have been missing for so many years.

"I know", she said, still caressing your face, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."

Her words were meant to comfort, but all they did was add the final drop to the already overflowing pool of emotions bubbling inside your chest. You leaped forward, circling your arms around her taller frame and burying your face in her chest. Hot tears were now flowing from your eyes, a result of years of silent suffering. Loud sobs escaped your lips, and you felt her strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer in a protective embrace.

"I missed you!", your words were muffled by your face being pressed against her shirt, "I missed you so much, Vi! I.. I thought I would never see you again!"

Her grip tightened and she buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of strawberry and cream filled her senses and she smiled, finding comfort in the fact that even years later, you still used the same shampoo. After being hit with the harsh reality of what Zaun has become, she welcomed this familiarity, even if it was a small one.

"I missed you too!", she murmured in your hair, before pressing a tender kiss on top of your head, "It's all going to be alright. I promise! I am here now."

You knew you shouldn't hope - after all, in the past it brought you only hurt and despair. But as she continued whispering sweet promises next to your ear, you couldn't help but cling to them, allowing yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance for you both.

"I would never leave you again!", her voice became harsher, filled with determination, "Whatever happens, I will always be by your side!"

Closing your eyes, you nodded your head, pressing your face even further into her chest. Your breathing was now calmer and the tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving salty trails behind them. If only you could freeze time and stay in this moment forever...

Suddenly your body tensed and you pulled yourself harshly from her embrace, leaving Vi shocked and surprised by the sudden movement.

"What about the enforcer girl?", your face scrunched in disgust as the words fell out of your lips, "Who is she... to you?"

The young woman blinked a few times, taken aback by your bluntness and the sudden coldness in your voice.

"Caitlyn?", the sound of her name made you roll your eyes, "She is... a friend. She helped me get out of Stillwater."

Your brow quirked and your arms crossed in front of your chest, as if protecting you from the idea that there may be something more between them. Ekko has briefly told you what he knew about her and how she seemed to be different from the other enforcers, but even he still had certain reservations when it came to her real intentions and her relationship to Vi.

"Just a friend? Is that all she is to you?"

The pink-haired woman stared long and hard at your face, somewhat amused by your questioning. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her smirk, but she couldn't control the way the corners of her lips twitched upwards.

"Violet!", the sound of you using her full name pulled her attention to your face and she reached out to you again, resting her hands on your waist, "Violet, I am being serious!"

She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to just pull you closer and shut your mouth, stopping you from asking such silly things. Her gaze bored into yours and her fingers squeezed the soft flesh under them.

"Caitlyn has been a great friend and a partner in crime...", she explained, pulling you closer to her, "But she is not you! I am not interested in her in that way."

With narrowed eyes, you studied her face for any signs of her lying, before reluctantly nodding your head. Slowly you lifted your arms, before wrapping them around her neck and immediately starting to play with the ends of her short locks.

"C'mon, I have a girlfriend, who do you think I am?", Vi finally let out a soft laugh, leaning her face toward yours and nudging your nose with hers. A light blush covered your cheeks and the tip of your ears at the sound of the word "girlfriend". After so many years apart, you were not even sure if she still considered you as such.

"A girlfriend, huh? She must be lucky!"

She grinned, moving one of her hands behind your neck, while the other one remained gripping your waist.

"I think I am the lucky one."

She closed the distance between you, pressing her chapped lips against yours and pouring all of the pent up frustration and love she held for you. Closing your eyes, you melted in her embrace, completely intoxicated by the familiar taste of her. The hand behind your neck pushed you even closer to her, resulting in a harsh battle of teeth and tongues, during which she easily dominated you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you rested your foreheads against each other, while trying to catch your breaths. You opened your eyes, immediately meeting those of Vi. Dragging your hand from behind her neck to her cheek, you rubbed it affectionately, smiling once she nudged it with her head.

"If you disappear again, I will hunt you down", you say half-seriously, half-jokingly, "And I will kick your ass!"

A wide grin formed on her face.

"I wouldn't even dream of it."

cc artwork: Shuo Shi

[oopsdevil]

COD + AUs

which alternative universe they would fit in (f!reader)

SIMON GHOST RILEY + APOCALYPSE!AU

(full fic here)

in another lifetime, the worldwide zombie apocalypse saved simon's life. with no one to fight for, simon felt like himself for the first time. a world where hiding his face is the last of everyone else's worries, a world where he gets to be violent for a good reason against those flesh eating things, a world where he gets to live without needing anyone. that until he met you. if anyone told him he would end up surviving the streets of manchester with a girl half his height and a backpack bigger than her, whose first words to him where "what's with the skull?", he would have laughed. but here he is, watching you go crazy at an old, dark clothing store, forgetting for a second that the world around you is dying. simon didn't care before, but now reminds himself the reason he wants to keep going, is you.

SIMON GHOST RILEY + TATTOO ARTIST!AU

in another lifetime, simon gets to combine his favorite things and make a living out of it; pain, art and ink. gotta admit, it was intimidating meeting him for the first time. 6'2, quiet, blonde, heavy accent, covered in tattoos and attached to his black surgical mask. surprisingly, he is a very patient tattoo artist. the fact that he understands the significance behind your tattoo, or that you need breaks, or that he offers you water many times, makes you go back to him for more ink. you remember the first time he took his mask off, with a couple scars around his face and a killing smirk, simon asked you out on the best date he could think of; hanging around his station while he tattoos strangers. or how you call it now, years after that first date, saturday afternoon.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + COLLEGE!AU

in another lifetime, kyle persuaded his talent in history knowledge. top of his class and with intact kindness (even after meeting very pretentious and competitive classmates), kyle offers his help to the girl in the library who doesn't seem to understand what the hell her book's about. you both knew, the second you locked eyes. not gonna lie, he makes your college experience better just by existing. yes, you stay up all night studying and fail to answer his calls. but he knows you, and he is outside your dorm at 3 a.m with the best pizza on campus. and yes, he will wait outside class when you take your final exam. and yes, he always knew he wanted to marry you, but waits until you get your degree to propose.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK + PRIVATE DETECTIVE!AU

in another lifetime, the sense of justice got to kyle in a cold, cheap apartment in the city, and working at night. he got really confused when a girl with kind eyes like yours approached him for his services. used to working with cheating men and sketchy women, kyle begged for you to drop whatever weird problem your boss got himself into, is really not you business, but he respects your contribution to the employees your boss is basically robbing. he really didn't expect to get so attached to a case, even less to a client. but there you are, sleeping on his bed after many nights protecting you, after you didn't drop it. you couldn't, and it made him fall in love with you even harder. he felt his heart go soft and his stiff shoulders drop when you grabbed his arm in your sleep. kyle always protected himself, but after finding you, he has new priorities. he also never considered himself impulsive, but look at him now, living in a new warm city with his lifesavings in a backpack and your hand in his.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + SOULMATES!AU

in another lifetime, johnny checks the mark in everybody's wrist, hoping one will match his. his is rather particular, and earned his nickname since childhood, a small but obvious mark shaped as a soap. turning 30 (and hiding it with humor) soaps heart breaks a little more when he realizes he hasn't shared the first thirty years of his life with his soulmate, the one who at this point, john doubts even exists. he takes a walk around the streets of glasgow to clear his head, and walks into a coffee shop. he reaches for his cup in the multitude, and hears from the barista something he heard his entire life "your mark looks like a soap! how funny". his stomach dropped when a girl next to him goes "yeah, i know". it took him a second, but he looked. and yeah, he burned his hand with his coffee when he introduced himself, and got embarrassed when the entire staff realized a couple of soulmates met at their shop, but johnny's coffee never tasted better knowing that was his last birthday alone.

JOHN SOAP MACTAVISH + BOXER!AU

in another lifetime, a cocky boxer winked your way in the middle of his fight, and your face got red like the blood in his gloves. your friends warned you, what can an amateur boxer with a mohawk offer to you? surprisingly, a lot. when he's with you, he isn't the soap mactavish, just johnny. johnny, who looks handsome even with a black eye when he asks you out for breakfast. johnny, who is bulking and eats like an animal on your first date, but god, he is so charming. your johnny, who runs every morning and comes back with a hot coffee for you, and accepts the fact that sometimes you can't watch his fights. johnny, who thought fighting was all he was good for, but gained so much peace when he met you. with ups and downs, he is convinced that having a reason to fight for is the reason he won the championship.

KÖNIG + BODYGUARD!AU

in another lifetime, you yelped when you woke up to a 6'4 man in your kitchen, wearing a suit and a intimidating black hood. he is not surprised by the reaction. being the bodyguard for a girl who saw too much is not his ideal job, but you became so much more. so brave and witty. he is obsessed with the way you aren't scared of him in the slightest. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but it became his whole life. no longer a job, but his reason. the nicknames that slipped out when the situation became to much for you, and the time he saw a suspicious face and had a hand on your hip the rest of the night. but you falling asleep in his shoulder after a storm was it for him, he had to tell you he loved you. but könig's heart breaks when his contract is over and you are officially safe. after a long, heavy fight about your "relationship", könig confesses he can't sleep now that he is not around you, that he needs to make sure you are safe, forever. and fuck, the kiss he gave you. könig swore to protect you by a contract, but met the other half his cold heart never knew he needed.

KÖNIG + GROUP THERAPY!AU

in another lifetime, könig healed in so many ways. its hard to take this much time off work at mid thirties for any human, but imagine for a soldier. the only condition favor his superior asked was "please, go to therapy". very skeptical, könig tried a place where the attention wasn't always on him, group therapy. talking isn't his favorite, but he met amazing people, and yeah, he wasn't in the best place to meet the love of his life, but how can you not look at that beautiful girl who picks up her marine dad from therapy? after very hard months talking about things he swore to never think about again, you were there for him the entire time. könig healed in so many ways. könig cried for the first time in decades when he left you, thinking he is too broken for you. könig asked for forgiveness for the first time in decades when he got you back. könig giggled for the first time in decades when your dad caught you two making out in your porch (and boy, did your dad make him run home). könig went back to his job about a year later, and became the best soldier he ever was. the talk of the base is now how the colonel keeps recommending therapy to everyone.

JOHN PRICE + LAWYER FIRM!AU

in another lifetime, john price is a fucking asshole. or so everyone thinks. you have never felt this nervous about a job interview, and by that cold look mr. price gave you, you were sure he would hire another secretary. but maybe his eyes are just like that, because why else would you be taking the bus at 7 a.m in these clothes? you hear it all over the building, mr. price can be difficult, serious, boring. but they never danced to head over heels by tears for tears in his office while barefoot. they never ate chinese food totally sleep deprived while going over a case over and over. john never grabbed their hand while walking the busy streets of london in that suit he looks way too good in. john's reputation really changed through the years. "he went soft when he met his sweetheart at work". he laughs, no one who ever saw him in a courtroom would call him soft.

JOHN PRICE + ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU

in another lifetime... john is difficult. you get it. he is an important man, a business man. a man who has no time to meet women, specially a wife. everything in his life is a transaction, including his business partner's sister. you two got married at a small ceremony and he didn't even kiss you. it took him 5 months to sleep in the same bed as you, and thats when it all started. that night john made sure you knew he didn't hate you, he was trying to give you space. but you don't want space, you want to peel all those layers and really get to know him. now you know why he is the big man, one of a kind. who knew a man so brilliant and cold could be so... him. john. protective, faithful, touch-starved, sweet-tooth, the smiths enthusiast, twin girls dad, belly laugher john.

[linkspooky]

The Death of Kenjaku

So I was planning to write this meta the week that Kenjaku died, but decided to delay until we got full confirmation of his death. Something I didn't believe in even after Kenjaku passed the merger onto Sukuna. However, watching this video about death in Jujutsu Kaisen inspired me to finish this post. Not because I disagree with anything the YouTuber is saying, but because they can speculate on the meaning of so many deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen but can't find the meaning in Kenjaku's sudden death. This has led me to speculate why Gege made the choice to kill Kenjaku in the way that he did. What meaning is there in Kenjaku's abrupt and unsatisfying death?

Who is Kenjaku?

The first step in understanding Kenjaku's death is of course understanding how he lived. We actually know incredibly little about Kenjaku's character by design. Despite the fact he's literally in Geto's body, he's not meant to have sympathetic or human motivations to his actions (though hold onto that "human motivation" in your head for a moment). No flashback sequence shows the audience why this guy is the way he is, no single event seems to have driven him to do what he did.

This is what we know about Kenjaku in brief. He is a sorcerer who is over a thousand years old who was around in Sukuna's day. He once had a friendship with Tengen, but found her original self boring and unambitious. He also contrasts heavily with Tengen, who lives outside of humanity, because he has lived among humanity for 1,000 years. One of those lifetimes was Noritoshi Kamo who violated a woman and conducted heinous experiments. He produced ten children in his one thousand years, the nine death painting siblings and Yuji Itadori. He considers the first children boring, because human and curse hybrids turned out too normal.

He also partially blames himself for how boring they are, because he can't create anything that will exceed his expectations, the only thing that can exceed his expectations is born in chaos. He spent a thousand years organizing the culling games, and wants to use the games to create a merger, because he thinks creating a merger between Tengen and Humanity will create something entirely new and interesting. He also believes the way towards the future lies in further optimizing cursed energy, not in breaking away from it the way Yuki Tsukumo tried to do and Maki has.

The only people whose word we have on Kenjaku's motivations are Kenjaku himself, and Tengen's word and Tengen themselves who claims to not know what goes on in the human heart.

From all of the above Kenjaku seems to be a shallow character who's motivations can be summed up as "because I can" and "I want to see what happens." This shallowness is intentional however, as Gege who once praised the minimalist storytelling of Nasu and Evangelion likes to pick and choose what crumbs of backstory he gives out for his characters. We've never gotten any exposition on the Gojo clan, but we have an entire chapter about Takaba's failed career as a stand-up comic. This isn't a judgement of good or bad writing, this is just how Gege writes as minimalist as possible. This is in line with how Gege writes the ancient sorcerers as well, they are all much more shallow driven by instinct or Freudian Id (I desire) rather than the higher reasoning of modern-day sorcerers. Takaba uses comedy as a means of communication and bridging the gaps between people, Higuruma's backstory is the critique of the modern day justice system. Ishigori apparently lived a satisfying life where he was succesful and had good women, but that wasn't enough so he wants to get into a fight with Yuta to satisfy his hunger and feel like he's eaten desert.

It sounds shallow when I summarize it in text, but in the context of the fight with Yuta, it's a challenge for Yuta who for the most part only cares about his loved ones and sees the world through his love goggles to be more selfish and fight for his own desires. It's also reflective of a more basic and instinctual kind of thinking, as opposed to the higher reasoning and logic that modern-day sorcerers apply.

I'm keeping most of this first part to text for this reason, like go back and read the fight with Ishigori and Yuta. If I summarize Ishigori's character reasoning out of context it sounds stupid, but read the fight and it works because it's ID (I Desire) vs. Yuta's superego in not only having to collect points to help rescue Tsumiki, find a way to protect all the innocent people in the Culling Games, and also collect enough points to take on Kenjaku himself so Gojo won't have to. Meanwhile Ishigori's just fighting to get some of that sweet desert, the shallow works in contrast to the more layered motivations of our heroes.

Kenjaku is a shallow archetype fighting to satisfy his baser impulses (in his case curiosity) in comparison to the main characters who are fighting for more complicated reasons and often people besides themselves.

The question then becomes what archetype is Kenjaku. In that case answering who Kenjaku is is quite simple.

Kenjaku is a clown.

It might be more accurate to say that Kenjaku embodies what's commonly known as the "trickster archetype" but I'mma go with clown.

The most obvious example of a clown villain is what most consider the joker to be, that is a silly little clown man who challenges the straight faced and grim batman and sews chaos where Batman attempts to establish law and order in Gotham and make the city into a better place.

From the book Batman and Psychology:

More than any other villains, the Joker and Two-face reflect Batman himself as funhouse distortions, converses of who and what he is. The laughing, jesting, brightly colored Joker contrasts with grim, dark Batman. The Joker is the Joker. No alter ego. The film's opening bank robbery shows him wearing a clown mask over clown makeup, Under the surface there's only more Joker. He gives no history except inconsistent lies. When he finally considers the impact of his demand Batman unmask, he retracts the threat and demands that Batman's identity remain undisclosed. He wants a batman who has no other self, a Dark Knight whose only deeper layer is further darkness.

Is there a better descriptor for Kenjaku then these words?

Kenjaku is Kenjaku. No alter ego. A clown mask over clown makeup., Under the surface there's only more Kenjaku.

In other words, what you see is what you get.

Kenjaku even mirrors Joker's opinion of Batman, he thinks people should be more like him, not the other way around. He's not the outlier, he's being true to humanity's basic impulses of curiousity and discovery.

A more apt comparison as a clown though would probably be Loki, one of the most classic examples of clowning in the shared mythology of humanity. The character who challenges the common wisdom of gods like Odin who suspended themselves from the world tree for eleven days in order to gain wisdom. Loki, who through his trickery manages to bring about the events of Ragnarok for no deeper reason than because he can. Everyone swore not to harm Balder and Loki goes to find something that can harm him because BET.

Mythological Loki doesn't need a deeper motivation because what he represents in the mythology is someone who challenges authority and brings about a change, because in Norse Mythology nothing lasts forever and no era is permanent. Jujutsu Kaisen is also a story about how things should not in fact stay the same and tradition is bad sometimes.

When Kenjaku finds Tengen's true body he's curled up in a tree root in the fetal position, and he killed what is basically the all-knowing, all-seeing supposedly immortal sorcerer that maintains the status quo of japan, it's not exactly subtle.

Kenjaku is a clown, and clown's gotta clown. We don't need any more explanation that, it's more about what he does for the story. However, what he represents, the deep intellectual curiosity, and also a drive to disrupt the status quo in an attempt to see something more interesting can also be analyzed more deeply because they are human emotions that motivate us as well. The same way that Mahito is an inhuman monster, but he's created and motivated by the fear of other humans, something all of us have. '

Before moving onto his death though, I wanna hammer in how Kenjaku really is just motivated by these two things, a desire to see something interesting, and intellectual curiosity by comparing him to other characters.

The Clown in Fiction

I've already compared Kenjaku to Loki and the Joker, but when it comes to someone who wants to disrupt the entire order of the world simply because they're bored we've got to go to the original girlboss.

So there are plenty of villains who go "I'm evil because I'm bored" but they usually tend to be pretty shallow, either shallowly written for the lulz evil characters who just exist for shock value or just kinda dull. No one has ever done it as good as Junko Enoshima and no one ever will again.

For those who need context DanganRonpa is a death game series where the main villain basically has caused the apocalypse, wiped out most of humanity, and then induces survivors in a bunker to kill each other in a death game, where if someone commits a succesful murder they can escape the bunker, but if they're caught in a trial they're executed. Also, if they're not convicted in the trial everyone else is killed, motivating the jury to find and execute the guilty murderer.

Junko Enoshima the main villain and orchestrator of this death game ended the world because despair. She wants to inflict despair on everyone because despair. Because hope sucks and despair is where it's at.

It sounds shallow and it is and Kodaka has said in interview he wrote Junko to be a villain character with zero redeeming character traits, and no sympathetic backstory to describe why she is the way she is, but there is still something motivating her.

If you go a bit deeper into the lore and read Dangan Ronpa Zero, there is an entire book which explains the lengths which Junko goes to feel normal human emotions. The thing is much like Kenjaku Junko is too smart for her own good, everything is predictable and therefore everything bores her. Once in an attempt to live normally, she literally lobotomizes herself, makes it so that she can't remember anything and has continual amnesia constantly forgetting what just happened to her, because that's the only way she can live without knowing everything that's going to happen and constantly predicting everyone's actions.

Junko has whatever her universe's version of the six-eyes is, but instead of lording it over other people like Gojo and basking in her superiority she wants to feel normal, and connected to the world. If she can't have that she tries to make the world as unpredictable place as possible so she can experience it the same way that everyone else does.

Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can save you from a boring future.

I'm still not describing it properly because I don't want to go into a Danganronpa essay in this post about Jujutsu Kaisen, but one example I always use is two characters from American Dragon Jake Long. They're a pair of twins who see the future, one always sees happy things, and one always sees sad things. The one who has happy visions is a goth who's very depressed and the one who sees disaster is an incredibly peppy girl.

Jake is so confused as to why the twin who always sees good visions is so depressed, and she basically tells him to imagine having every good thing, every small little surprise, every pleasure taken out of life.

Kara: When you only see good things, nothing's special anymore. All the pleasant surprises are taken out of life. Sara: But, when you only see bad stuff, even the smallest bit of good news makes you happy!

All of this to say what Junko feels isn't just boredom, or a desire to commit evil for evil's sake, but also a full on existential crisis where she's simply too smart so she doesn't feel any connection to other people or the world around her. In order to feel that connection, that connection that everyone else has, to feel like she is actually a participant in her life not an observer she's willing to go to extremes to make the world a more interesting place, to therefore make her own life feel satisfying.

Kenjaku vs. The World (Kenjaku Pilgrim's sad little life)

To connect all this back to Kenjaku imagine the profound existential despair of a person who's lived for a thousand years, and felt bored all that time. Sukuna is at least a hedonist, he gets his fun by getting into fights, humans might be bugs to him but they're tasty bugs.

Kenjaku goes to similiar motivations and has similiar extremes, he's uninvested in the world around him, he's lived a thousand years but has no attachment to the world, to life, to the people around him. I said that Junko wants to be a participant in life not an all seeing observer and that was purposeful language because to bring back an old post. I rambled on this post about Gojo that part of Gojo's problem is that he only experiences observer-to-object relationships or I to it.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the “I” towards “it” towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of “I” towards “Thou” in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

In Buber's terms, those who only experience the first type of relationships are only observing the world around them not relating to them. Kenjaku doesn't relate to other human beings because they are objects, he only experiences subject -> object relationships and never subject -> subject.

Buber also goes on to theorize that meaning in our lives comes from subject -> subject relationships we form with other people.

Kenjaku jokingly says that to be his friend you have to never bore him and be his equal, but there's no one considers his equal because he's the subject and everyone else are just objects.

He regrets he can't sit down and talk theories with Tsukumo Yuki because she's one of the few people who think like him.

Kenjaku is a paradox of an incredibly brilliant man who is also shallow as a puddle that you can stand in and not get your socks wet. However, he tragically can't really form a more complex identity because our identities are formed by our relationships to other people and Kenjaku doesn't relate to anybody.

That's basically the theme of the whole Choso and Kenjaku fight, Choso is a weird aborted fetus of a curse who still has a strong identity and is able to feel unconditional love for Yuji because of the connection of family and the ideas of brotherhood that binds the two. Kenjaku is a bad father who abandoned Choso because they were "boring" but also never really gave them a chance to grow up or be interesting, he just dismissed them offhand and moved on to the next weird science project.

However, his reason for dismissing Choso isn't Choso's fault but rather a case of Psychological projection. It's not Choso who is boring, but rather Kenjaku himself, he said so earlier.

"What I can create, does not exceed the bounds of my own potential. The answer is always flickering darkly in chaos."

Kenjaku cannot look within to find anything satisfying abput his life because there's nothing inside of him. He doesn't have a fully formed identiy he's just ID, and because he tramples all over other people to form his desires he also cannot ever form a full ego. Just like Sukuna and most of the ancient sorcerers he's a paradox of being all ego, and yet having an underdeveloped ego with shallow motivators.

Kenjaku cannot look within because he's a boring person, and he cannot look for other people to find worth in his life because they're just objects, so instead he looks into the void, he tries to change the world around him by spreading more chaos hoping that it will make something unpredictable happen in front of his eyes - and that will give him the meaning and investment in his life he's deprived himself of because he refuses to form relationships with other people.

It's the Gojo problem. It's the Kashimo problem. It's not the Sukuna problem, because Sukuna admits he doesn't care about and rejects things like love and meaning.

If Kenjaku makes the world around him a more interesting place, he will be able to live in it. It's the same as Gojo trying to raise people up to his level by creating stronger students.

So after going to great length to demonstrate how powerful and all-consuming Kenjaku's boredom is, and how cut off he is from his own humanity, here's the part where I sort of defend his death.

Wouldn't it be funny if the joke character killed the main villain?

Let's be honest it was Takaba's kill here, Yuta just camped and killstole. I think part of the problem with people not understanding the meaning behind Kenjaku's sudden and unexpected death is attributing the death to Yuta cutting his head off out of nowhere, and not Takaba's thematic victory over Kenjaku.

Takaba represents a blindspot for Kenjaku which is why the main characters use him as a weapon against him, and he also calls out in a fashion Kenjaku's hypocrisy. First and foremost, Kenjaku presents himself as an agent of change, but he actually has no interest in many of the modern sorcerers and holds a bias towards the heian era as the peak of sorcery. He even says that he's going to bring back the Heian Golden Age to Sukuna at the end of Shibuya arc.

Because that's what Chaos is Kenjaku, things being the same as they were 1,000 years ago. Kenjaku is an agent of change and chaos and somehow his definition of change is... resetting things back to the past because the sorcerers of the past were so much better than today.

Kenjaku goes out of his way to awaken hundreds of modern day sorcerers, and then dismisses literally off of them except for Hiromi because they don't have enough potential for him compared to ancient sorcerers. He essentially did the same with the Death Painting Bros, he went through all of the trouble to create them, then dismissed them as not having enough potential BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO GROW UP.

Kenjaku has a habit of just going BORED NOW and leaving before he even gives things the time to impress him. He does the same with the Culling Game, he set up the death game to push sorcerers to fight each other and bring out their powers, but he never actually intended to watch the sorcerers evolve. He just wanted to slaughter everyone inside to start the merger.

He goes through a lot of potential to set up these situations and then abandons them before they have the chance to even evolve, because they do not have enough "potential" in his opinion, but like his opinion is often shown to be wrong. Takaba represents that blindspot because he was one of the modern sorcerers that Kenjaku underestimated and dismissed offhand as boring without giving him a chance to shine.

That is the joke that Takaba introduces himself with "Wouldn't it be funny if a random comic relief side character suddenly defeated the big bad?"

He's immediately pointing out a blindspot, because Kenjaku automatically believes himself to be an important character, he underestimates Takaba because he's a side character, one of the people Kenjaku has dismissed as boring and uninteresting (before they even had a chance to evolve into something else). Like that's the other thing Kenjaku wants things to evolve but he doesn't... let them. He abandoned Choso and the rest before they even grew up, they were literally fetuses and he threw them away. Kenjaku is the protagonist of reality, and Takaba is a side character, and therefore Takaba couldn't possibly harm him because Kenjaku and his boundless curiosity are the center of the world.

It's not just about subverting the audience's expectations to have the main villain die in such an anti-climactic way before the final act even starts, but it's pointing out how narrow Kenjaku's viewpoints really were all along. He wants everything to be surprised but he never lets anything surprise him, because either he gets bored right away, or he looks down on others before giving them the chance to evolve, or the third thing he just straight up has to control everything. He can't let the culling game evolve naturally he's going to slaughter all the players by hand so he can move onto the next part.

It's the contradiction between a schemer who needs to control everything and everyone to bring about his intended result and everything needs to be a part of his big plans, to someone who wants to be surprised by others and have things go off the rails. You can't have both of these things at once, Kenjaku cannot have things surprise him if he rigs everything to go his way with his overly elaborate schemes and his tight-fisted control of everyone in the story.

Like, in comparison to Kenjaku the joker just blows things up and sprays people with laughing gas. They're both playing the same game but the joker is having fun and Kenjaku isn't.

Kenjaku wants an unexpected future, but he doesn't care about any of the modern sorcerers and has a bias towards the heiean era that he considers the height and wants to reset things to bring back the heian era. He wants to be surprised but won't give up control.

Kenjaku's boast is that unlike Tengen he's spent a thousand years living on the ground instead of lording up on them from above like some deity, but is that true? Has Kenjaku lived? Has he engaged with the world? Formed relationships with people? Or does he just sit in the corner rubbing his hands together menacingly and scheming his schemes.

Takaba unironically gives Kenjaku what he wants, something he's never seen before in a thousand years, and it's from a place Kenjaku never expected. Some random guy, who he dismissed as one of the boring modern sorcerers with no potential like Higuruma.

Takaba not only exists in Kenjaku's blindspot, he almost immediately points out Kenjaku's second hypocrisy. If he's willing to resort to mass murder just to feel entertained, then if he found something else to entertain him there'd be no reason to get violent and scheme his schemes.

In other words Kenjaku hasn't really gone looking for other places to try to find what makes life worth living, or at least enertaining, he hasn't really tried any alternatives to finding joy in life because Jujutsu is all he cares about. Takaba says that if he found something else even more entertaining than the merger there'd be no need to go through with the merger, and he turns out to be right. Kenjaku could have found meaning and entertainment with the world someplace else, he was just too narrow minded and never looked anywhere else.

As I said from the beginning Kenjaku's existential crisis comes from his inability to relate to other people and viewing them all as objects, but in Kenjaku's mind of course he can't relate to others they're too boring, so therefore it's the world's fault, and the fault of others and not himself.

However, right away one of those boring people starts relating to Kenjaku.

I joked about how we know nothing about the Gojo clan but Takaba gets an entire backstory chapter about his failed comedy career, but this chapter is plot important because jokes are the way that Takaba relates to and forms relationships with other people. Takaba makes jokes to relate to others but has a fallout with a comedy partner and has never been able to form a lasting relationship with a comedic partner because comedy doesn't mean the same to them as it does to him - because to Takaba comedy is about forming relationships with people. Which is why he thinks he's failed if he's failed to make everyone in the audience laugh because he wants to make comedy that will make other people relate to him and understand him.

However, he almost gives up on comedy because he's afraid that he might fail on that endeavor. He gives up on striving to make everybody in the audience laugh, because of self-affirmation and a desire to protect himself. He didn't want to fail so he started distancing himself from the audience under the excuse "Well, I can't make everyone laugh so it's okay if not everyone understands me."

Takaba at some point gave up on trying to use comedy as a means of understanding and relating to others, because of his fear of failure and at that point he nearly lost - but he rallies himself by saying that he won't give up on making someone like Kenjaku laugh. If his comedy is about connecting to others, about understanding others and having others understand him then he can't just give up on Kenjaku and say it's Kenjaku's fault that Kenjaku can't relate to his sense of humor. He's got to try even harder to make Kenjaku laugh.

This is also pretty much the opposite of Kenjaku's point of view. For Kenjaku it's everyone else's fault for being so boring that's why he can't relate to them. Wheras, Takaba takes personal responsibility, he wasn't funny enough, he has to try harder, he's the one who's going to make Kenjaku laugh by improving himself. Takaba looks inward, and Kenjaku looks outwards because there's nothing inside Kenjaku.

This is a parallel to this.

The difference however, is that Sukuna did not betray his ideology. Sukuna lives for the kicks that battle provides him and wants to face strong opponents so he can eventually devoured them and be momentarily entertained.

Like Sukuna is not bored the way Kenjaku is. The world is his playground. He may refer to living as just killing time until you die, but he also says that there's an infinite variety of humans to entertain yourself with. The world is Sukuna's toybox and he's satisfied with just that. In fact he doesn't even care about the merger, until his frustration with Yuji makes him think a little deeper about himself.

Kenjaku is not the Sukuna in this scene, he's the Gojo. He believed he was above others, only to be reminded suddenly that he was just the same as everyone else and brought back down to humanity. I mean, they even die off panel the same anticlimactic way. Gojo's infinity meant nothing in the face of one surprise attack a world-cleaving slash Gojo didn't see coming. All of Kenjaku's backup plans meant nothing in the face of Yuta camping and kill-stealing.

Kenjaku didn't lose because Yuta's plan of camping and killstealing was simply too brilliant for him to prepare for however, we're given the exact reason kenjaku lost - because he was having too much fun with Takaba.

Which meant what Takaba said earlier was true, if Kenjaku found something funnier, something other than the merger that could make him laugh there'd be no need to go through with the merger to begin with.

Kenjaku loses because all along he could have related to people, formed meaningful relationships with others, looked for meaning in life outside of Jujutsu but just chose not to. Which is also a parallel to this.

Sukuna says that Kashimo and Gojo both lost because they were greedy. They already received love in a way, they had the love of everyone who regarded them as the strongest, they had people who earnestly wanted to challenge them and respected them - which Sukuna sees as a form of love, and yet they still wanted more.

They were the ones who put themselves up on that pedestal and decided to stand above all of humanity, they don't get to whine about being lonely on top of that.

To add my interpretation to Sukuna's speech, what he's outlining is a general conflict in Jujutsu Kaisen, you can choose to be all ego to put personal development above everything else but it comes at the cost of not being able to form relationships. Maki's as powerful as Toji now, but the sister she always wanted to protect is dead and basically committed suicide. Meanwhile Noritoshi Kamo didn't participate in the final battle, but he reconnected with his mother and half-brother.

There are plenty of characters who die and suffer in jujutsu kaisen because they chose to value other people above themselves, because Jujutsu Kaisen rewards selfishness and punishes selflessness / having an underdeveloped sense of self.

I'll pick Mechamaru as my biggest example, he lived to protect Miwa, and not only does he die an unsatisfying death, he also breaks her heart.

However, at least Mechamaru experienced love. His desire to protect Miwa is granted, because Miwa is also out of the final conflict. Mechamaru is one of the most miserable characters in the manga, and yet he experienced love in his life for someone else that made his brief life meaningful. The characters who choose love, and other people over strength tend to get stepped on, but they at least had that love in their life to begin with.

It's a having your cake and eating it too situation. Kashimo chose strength over love, and he got to be so strong he was unbeatable and lived to old age, but not only is he unfulfilled but he whines about being unable to relate to the people around him - you're the one who chose to step on everyone like bugs.

Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen don't just experience death when they try to be selfless however, like yeah there's a disproportionate amont of selfless minor characters who die, but like Yuji is the most selfless character in the manga and he's continually punished for it and yet he's the one referred to as a person with an unbreakable will.

Rather instead of Jujutsu Kiasen preferring the selfish side on the scale of selfishness / selflessness, the kind of messy, deaths that get handed out to people like Mechamaru happen when you betray the ideals you were living for. Whether they were selfish or selfless.

It goes back to Toji's internal monologue. You lose when you lose sight of yourself - like there's some deaths that don't fit the mould but for the most part, Gojo, Kashimo, Toji's and then Kenjaku's deaths all follow this pattern. By coincidence they also all take place offscreen for the most part (I suppose we see Yuta cut off Kenjaku's head but it's quick and unsatisfying compared to all the rest).

Kenjaku died because he betrayed what he was living for and he temporarily lost sight of himself. As I said Kenjaku's airtight principles were that everyone was boring and people weren't worth relating too so the only way to find enertainment in life is to cause chaos - but he found himself relating to some nobody he wrote off as a minor character Takaba and having fun with him. Which meant the belief he was false, he could have tried relating to other people all along he just didn't.

He warped his sense of self to reaffirm his identity. Takaba almost did that too, he tried to blame other people for not finding him funny to protect himself, but he moved past that and redoubled his efforts to make Kenjaku laugh.

There's also the added layer of irony that Kenjaku's sudden death brings about, the person who spent a thousand years trying to make the merger happen doesn't get to see it.

However, here's my assertion on why Kenjaku's death before the merger always had to happen.

Because, even if Kenjaku had seen the merger he still would have been bored.

Literally everything about Kenjaku's character and previous actions shows that even if he made his big scheme come true, he would have gone "meh" and moved onto the next scheme because that's how he always reacts.

He got bored of the death painting siblings, he presumably got bored of Yuji, he got bored of all the ancient sorcerers and new sorcerers he made for the culling game, he worked with the disaster curses and got bored of them and dismissed them as inferior primitive curses, he goes out of the way to engineer these chaotic situations and then never feels any satisfaction from them so why would the Merger be any different?

Not only did Kenjaku die before he saw the merger, he was basically doomed to never see the merger, because it would not have fixed whatever is wrong inside of him.

Because it's not the world that's boring, it's Kenjaku himself.

He gets a brief glimpse of what he could have done in life, that he could have tried to forge connections with the people around him and related to them on a personal level - and then he dies the way he lived, in a kind of boring and unsatisfying way.

It's the narrative punishing him in a way, the same way it punished Gojo, and Kashimo, by not letting him see the big explosion after he went to all the trouble rigging the bombs. It's punishing him for the same reason too - by deviating from his true self and showing what he thought were his reasons were shallow all along. Gojo could have always related to people he just chose to stand on his pedestal alone, and Kenjaku could have always found the world to be more enertaining he was the one dismissing other people as boring without giving them a chance to grow.

Takaba confronted his beliefs and then stayed true to his ideology of making everyone, 100% of the people in the crowd laugh. Kenjaku didn't confront his beliefs, he strayed from them because he didn't have the strength of character to evaluate himself the way Takaba did.

Hence, he's finished off by one of those boring people who used their power in a way he never expected. The main villain is defeated by the comic relief character and it's hilarious.

[mandacantu]

10 Reasons Why I Actually Loved The Crow Remake

FKA Twigs - I'm not going to sit here and pretend I am not a huge twigs fan, because I love anything she touches and especially her music. This was her first time as a leading lady and I thought she did a good job. I do think there were some points where her line reading could have been a little more fast paced in some spots, but overall, I think she was captivating, eloquent and emotional. And wow, so many stunning visuals that we got of her from this movie!

2. We didn't have to see depictions of brutal and violent deaths of women in this film. I didn't want to spend too many of my thoughts on comparisons to the original The Crow, but one thing I noticed was that I didn't have to endure the violent and sexually abusive death of Shelly or any other woman in this movie. I do like the original movie but never cared for the way they went all in on Shelly's death. In this remake, we still see Shelly die but we don't have to endure gratuitous SA scenes whilst losing the leading lady. I appreciated that and was able to relax more, honestly.

3. The villain had actual motivation for killing and being a villain. There was some decent backstory and character development for the villain and that is something that I always appreciate. Some of my favorite pieces of media (like Spirited Away and Knives Out) do well to at least give the villain a story or a reason for being bad. I think it adds depth to the story and for me, helps immerse me into the plot more.

4. It felt like a comic book come to life. From the color grading and palette to the way scenes were cut and moved from one to the next, it felt like I was flipping through a comic book. There were moments that were very whimsical in depictions of love and then very gritty scenes. The contrast in some of those scenes felt similar to flipping a page in a comic.

5. It was very romantic and spent a lot of time focusing on their love story. I thought their love was believable and felt like that whirlwind kind of love where you just want to party and kiss all night. It gave me a reason to care about both of the characters and it gave Shelly a place in the spotlight where she becomes so much more than just a symbol of loss for character development. Focusing on their love and giving us some romance was a timeless decision and puts their love story up there with Romeo and Juliet or Christian and Sateen.

6. Soundtrack was amazing! If you are into some new wave, some goth tunes and some dance tracks, this is the playlist for you. Beyond just the soundtrack, it was truly a different experience to see it synced up to parts of the movie as intended. The intro was amazing, I thought it was like a James Bond meets Underworld mixed with some NIN music video sprinkled in there. The folks who worked on the score deserve a standing ovation. There were moments where I was tearing up because of how well the music paired with the scene. Most memorable and moving was Joy Division's Disorder when they bust out of rehab together and a perfectly placed Boadicea by Enya. There were so many other good ones too, I'm seriously considering seeing it again just for the mini music videos you get from the film.

7. It was aesthetically pleasing. And I'm not just talking about the eye candy that was Bill Skarsgård, though lets give him his flowers for being a true Mr. Fanservice! The actual visuals were beautiful. I loved the cinematography and color choices. It was truly a feast for the eyes. Just take a look at this beautiful gif set by pizgif!

8. I could easily see a story about grief and the longing for justice for loved ones. I thought it was a good story and as I watched it, I thought to myself that the person who wrote the original comic must have gone through an immense loss. It wasn't until I looked it up that it seems to be confirmed that The Crow was inspired by such loss. The moodiness of the movie itself added to the weight of the tragic storyline. In that, I liked that it takes a while for Eric to become The Crow. Losing someone you love transforms you and in this sense, the movie is all about that transformation and pain and longing.

9. I liked the ending. I don't want to say too much to spoil it, but I enjoyed the different ending and I was definitely teary eyed and sniffling as I left the theater.

10. It was goth as fuck. I think goth can be a multitude of styles and honestly shouldn't be something that has a gatekeeper. This was emo-boy-goth, it was e-boy-tiktok-hottie-goth, it was goth in a different flavor. I think folks are quick to see this new Eric not dressed like a new-wave-leather-daddy-goth as decidedly not dark enough. To quote a favorite musician, he was "goth as fuck, even when [he's] not in black, gothic is the pain you feel and not the clothes that's on your back."

Closing thoughts: A lot of the negative criticism is coming from men or diehard fans of the 1994 movie, so I am not surprised. This rendition felt like the same story, just done differently and with more emphasis on the love story than the revenge plot. There is nothing wrong with that and nothing wrong with a gothic romance heavy action flick.

This was intended to be a different version of The Crow and that isn't a bad thing. I personally think that if they had done the styling to be an exact replica of Brandon Lee's rendition then the movie would still get tons of hate, if not more. It was a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation for sure. I'm glad they took a risk and deviated from the '94 version.

We have been doing remakes since the creation of art. It has always been common to hear that the new movie coming out is actually a retelling of this classic tale or continuation of that scary story. Remakes are not a new concept and some of them do well to tell the same story in a different way. We are in the day and age where there isn't really an original idea anymore, anyway. In a world full of countless retellings of Batman/Joker and Spiderman movies, why not remake The Crow? I say fire it up!

I think they do a good job to pave the way for others to retell this love story in the same vein as The Joker and Harley Quinn. Hell, I would say to keep going, next let's see a remake where The Crow is about two badass lesbians. (I might have gotten too peppered up watching the movie, it was hot.)

P.S. I loved that there were little things like Eric wearing Shelly's jacket later in the movie. I feel like a lot of critics saw him wearing this jacket and were quick to bash the costume design too, but this is the kind of attention to detail that made their love believable to me. And I thought he looked cute as hell in it.

Okay, the end.

[ghost-proofbaby]

EDDIE MUNSON - OURS

😭😭😭

ours (eddie’s version)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff &lt;3

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: i got a little carried away. but i wish i had an eddie munson to go home to each night and just kiss and cuddle goddamn it

“Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s… interesting.”

“I guess when you said you had a boyfriend, I never envisioned someone like him.”

“You two are such… opposites! I mean- no! No, not a… bad thing, I suppose. Just… interesting.”

You were growing tired of it. You know people didn’t mean for their incessant questions or comments to get under your skin so badly, but they did. Any time someone at your new job caught sight of your phone’s lock screen – a joyous selfie of you and a sunburnt Eddie at the lake – or your work computer’s screen saver – a photo taken at dusk of Eddie on your couch, strumming on his guitar completely unaware – they had something to say. Something to point out. Whether it be the way you two didn’t seem to fit in their minds, or how rough around the edges he seemed to be. Some coworkers even pressed on how long you two had been together, pulling out the marriage card at a completely inappropriate time. One coworker had even made a snide remark on his long hair, saying “oh, I thought that was a girl! What a relief!”. It just…. It dug beneath your skin every time without fail, making you uncomfortable and irritated all in the same breath. 

You don’t understand why they cared so much. It wasn’t their relationship – they didn’t know you. You’d only started the job a few months prior. They could eat shit, for all you care.

Today had been a bad day. Maurice, one of the elderly women who worked at the front reception desk, had just been awful. She was always talking of you going on a date with her grandson, each time conveniently forgetting that you were already happily in a relationship, but today she’d crossed a line. She’d had her grandson physically come into the office at lunch time, and caught you just as you were on your way out the door to try and pick up something to hold you over until five o’clock would finally arrive. 

The one day you didn’t pack your own lunch. Go figure. 

“Oh! Dear! Over here!” she called  to you as you tried to scurry past her desk. You had held out the hope that the young man standing beside her would have occupied her, but no. No such luck for you on this wicked Thursday.

You took a deep breath before you turned slowly, forcing a polite smile as you faced the elderly woman, “What can I do for you, Maurice?”

“This is my grandson!” she animatedly motioned to the blonde boy at her side, and as he looked up, your stomach dropped, “Jason! The one I was telling you about!” 

Jason fucking Carver.

“Oh,” you tried to keep kind in your tone, but you were already feeling hatred prickle at the back of your neck. You knew all about Jason — he’d made Eddie’s life living Hell too many times to count. He was nothing like the angel Maurice had tried to paint, “I… It’s nice to meet you, Jason, but I really should get going. I’m on my lunch.” 

Jason didn’t take the social cue, stepping forward and stretching out his hand towards you, “Pleasure to finally meet the beautiful coworker my grandmother has been going on and on about. Words really didn’t do you justice.”

Gag. “You’re too kind. I do hope she also mentioned I’m already spoken for.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Maurice for a second. “You’re taken?” 

You opened your mouth to say, yes, I am happily taken, but Maurice was already waving her hands about as if that fact of the matter was nothing more than trivial smoke. “Technicalities. She has a fling with that Munson boy-“

“It’s not a fling,” you stressed, your patience meeting its end, “We’ve been together for years. We live together. I’m really sorry, Jacob,” you purposefully say the wrong name as you turn to Jason, exasperated and not sorry in the slightest, “But I’m not interested. I’ll see you after lunch, Maurice.” 

You think you heard Jason call out a correction of his name from behind you, but you paid him no mind. Fuck him.

You ended up taking a longer lunch, not even caring for the consequences just so you could sit in your car and call Eddie. You described each person who walked into the building that you caught sight of, completely forgetting to scavenge a snack, too wrapped up in giggling at every ridiculous joke or story he makes up for the strangers.

He made it feel better. Maurice and Jason and everyone’s incessant comments forgotten. Their judgments never took this into consideration — this tranquility and Eddie’s ability to make you laugh until your ribs ached. They never considered the love that carried you home each night.

Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You practically speed the entire way home, forgetting to watch for any police cars half the time. Your poor front door cries out on its hinges as you barrel through it with only one thing on your mind: Eddie.

“Hey baby-“ Eddie tries to greet you, but he hardly has the time to set his guitar to the side before you’re falling into his lap where he sits on the couch. “Oof, bad day?” 

Your thighs bracket his hips and your nose is already nuzzling into his neck, his soft laughter shaking his shoulders slightly as your arms wind themselves around him to the best of your abilities. He returns the favor without hesitation; arms hold you close to his chest and you can feel his nose dip to graze along your temple.

“The absolute worst,” your voice is muffled by his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you continue, “I swear to God, if I had know this office was full of such judgmental assholes I would have never-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he pulls you back slightly, bringing his hands up to hold both cheeks between his palms as his thumb trails softly against your cheek bone, “Are they being mean to you? Because if they are, just say the word – I’m not afraid to kick a couple of grandmas’ asses.” 

You laugh, sniffling a bit, still on the verge of tears out of relief of being home with him finally, “No, no. You don’t need to go and kick any elderly ass – today.” 

“What about tomorrow?” 

You pretend to think about it as you finally slide off his lap, sitting to his side as your legs remain draped on his lap. He’s quick to reach down and let his calloused fingertips graze a trail down your thigh, ending at your ankle before he wraps them around it and squeezes softly, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Yeah?” he questions, leaning his face down to your shoulder, peppering kisses there, eyes still attempting to glance up at you in adoration through thick lashes, “So not a no. Got it. I’ll have my boxing gloves at the ready.” 

You both laugh as Eddie continues his short assault of kisses. 

Your coworkers can say whatever they want. They can judge the two of you based on short snapshots all they please – they can’t take this from you. Not as his lips brush your collarbones, not as his palms massage your calves, and certainly not as he murmurs soft declarations of how much he missed you all day against your skin. 

“Say, you wanna play a song for me on that guitar, rockstar?” you say as you thread your fingers through his curls, noting the way they’re extra soft, as if he’d done a hair mask like you always pestered him to. 

He lifts his head and leans back casually against the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he smiles at you like you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand, “Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna spend some time with my baby.” 

“Oh, I see,” you snort, “You’re gonna break out sweetheart instead? No more dragon-slaying for today?” you joke, referencing his nicknames for his two guitars. 

He only shakes his head and rolls his eyes at you, surging forward and capturing your lips against his, teeth clashing a bit due to both of your wild grins. He has you falling backwards into the couch cushions in an instant and lets his weight settle between your thighs, enveloping you in smells of home. Just him, just you, just the love that you two have gardened here. No opinions of others ever needed.

“Shut up. I love you.” 

“and it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong. and your hand’s a tough but they are where mine belong.”

[sinimake]

Some Kenshi specific headcanons!

His parents died when he was a teenager, leaving him and his younger sister. That's when Kenshi really got into the yakuza business because there were no adult to shield him from criminal life, and he had to earn money to keep them afloat.

He's indifferent to cold weather but absolutely hates humid heat. Summers in Japan are his nightmare, especially since he has to wear long sleeves to cover up his tattoos. It is the main reason why he's so on edge and irritated most of the time.

He grips things in his hand when he's thinking and focused. God help Johnny if Kenshi's hand is on his thigh when it happens.

Has no skincare routine. He uses cheap 2-in-1 shampoo and washes his face with hand soap.

Not specifically interested in cars but he is a beast behind a wheel—difting, clutch kicking and obstacle course swerving. He knows how to drive.

Bit of an adrenaline junkie. He loves the kick but doesn't seek out danger purposedly.

He's absolute sweetheart with children, women and elders. He's that type to intentionally walk slow as he crosses road to make sure elders cross it safely too. He keeps children out of trouble and protects women from creepers. But because it is usually how the yakuza exploit people as payback from their help, people are very vary of Kenshi. So he learns to do it subtly over the time.

Very humble in nature but can be a cocky mofo when he wants to.

Constantly smells like cloves because of choji oil he uses for his katana

Has glass eyes. Johnny always tries to get him to wear wild and different prosthetics (once tried to put sharingan in him), but he just sticks to all white ones because he doesn't really show his eyes to others anyway.

He wears leather gloves to hide his tattoos on his hands.

He's a natural leader!!! This is a canon thing we need to pay more attention to!!!

Has strong sense of justice. He diligently tries to live an honest life after the yakuza and not break any laws but if it is absolutely necessary, he will take it to the extreme. Needs Sento? Doesn't wanna rob a dude blind but he's gonna break into his mansion and threaten him to give it to him.

Loves spicy food! Constantly trying to get Johnny's spice tolerance up.

I previously mentioned he never went to college, but he's always been effortlessly smart in school. He was a type of smart student who doesn't study for exams but still aces them.

He wants to have his own dojo in the future.

Very light sleeper bc old habits die hard.

I said he loves spice, but he doesn't really have that much preference in food and will eat anything. His sister cooks him debauchery of bento all the time, but Kenshi always wolves them down. (They both shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen. Bad cooking is in their bloodline)

Got no solid music taste but will listen to either angry metal or traditional japanese music on his own.

You know those plates of candies on the receptions' tables? He always grabs a candy off it to later give it to others. Many times, Johnny has received candies out of nowhere from Kenshi.

Sometimes has verbal altercations with the voice over accessibility feature of his phone.

Always gets into arguments with tsa agents bc of sento.

[genericpuff]

Seeing how there only 10 episodes left do you think Rachel will rush the ending?

The way I see she needs to somehow resign Apollo reign, reawaken the God's, have Persophone defeat Kronos, have Persophone create Elysian, stop the entered winner/killing of nymphs and humans, hell we don't even know what is Leto end goal and what is her whole role in this series other than manipulating Apollo to be king. We don't even know what exactly she did with Zeus (but knowing Rachel she made Leto the other woman despite the fact she was another respectable goddess)

Imo I think Rachel is officially done done with her series and know her viewers are fed up with her constant milking of the series. You can even see it in some of her work where you know she just gave up (unless it's her self insert scenes)

On a side note another thing I should point out is the anti climax of Leuce and Thetis. Besides the fact she made Leuce another other woman the way she made Leuce expression during Persophone home Invasion made it look like she wasn't going to back down. Only for her to make be forgotten 3/4 of the final arc and is never mention again. Persophone didnt even ask Hades how does he even know Leuce. So unless Rachel has plans for her again that was the last time we saw her making that whole plot unless.

While Thetis plot.........

I'll be honest she just got a slap on a wrist and Rachel just insert Achilles as a way to bait her audience/trying to make a cultural reference. Tbh I thought Thetis would have a bigger story like fast-forward she believes she gotten everything she wanted and is now Queen only for the Trojan war occur and she only lost her status bur her son. Thus making the scene a poetic justic/tragedy.

I'll finish this off since I don't want to run my mouth about this series so here's my 2 cent. Rachel is putting to many Greek mythologies in her series that a) she has forgotten about characters b) everyone is now expecting her to have this series be all wrapped up in a nice bow when it actually be worse c) and because she has so many subplots they are left unresolved or unsatisfied

Oh, Persephone created Elysium already. It was literally just this LMAO

Okay in all honesty I don't know if that was actually meant to be Elysium, but I remember seeing people comment on the S2 finale when she was bee-burping at Kronos that she was creating Elysium at the same time as fighting Kronos and I just... yeah okay? But they literally haven't even name-dropped it since the trial. This is what I mean when I criticize Rachel's writing for depending WAY too much on reader headcanon, because not only will she just roll with whatever her fans theorize, she'll do so without actually writing it into the comic so unless you're in the FB groups and Discord, you're probably not gonna pick up on every little decision Rachel made because she's making them with half a thought and a quarter of the effort needed to express it. It means people can say whatever and she'll just take credit for it like "yeah! that was Elysium! totally! you get it! okay moving on-"

As for the Leuce thing, Hades deadass met Leuce when Zeus offered her up as a bride, which Zeus explained to Persephone during the S2 finale arc-

-but again it suffers from a lot of the same issues of Rachel not expanding on her ideas and just resolving them with some other random plot convenience. Why would Leuce be so obsessed with getting with Hades that she'd make up fake text messages? Rachel just really didn't want Hades to be interacting with other women in the 10 years that Persephone was gone, so she had to make Leuce delusional for it to work ?? Why would she go so far as to tell Hades about the text messages if they weren't real the whole time?

-but then of course before Hades can respond to this, Persephone interrupts, meaning the plotline can be put on the backburner until Rachel comes up with a solution to it-

-and then we got to see Persephone 'resolve' the issue by harassing Leuce in her home, and it was only until after THEN that Rachel finally went "no it's fine that Persephone vandalized her home, the text messages weren't real!!! see??? Leuce is just a delusional nimwit! She deserves it!"

And yeah the Thetis and Achilles thing is yet another 'plotline' that Rachel only introduced to try and legitimize her comic as a Greek myth retelling. Just about every myth she tries to portray is done vaguely and without any thought for the world they're inhabiting, it's all just lip service.

At the end of the day, a lot of the writing in LO is 1.) trying to make up for the lack of plot development in the first two seasons (hence why we're now getting sudden lore dumping about how the seasons work) and 2.) trying to make up for its lack of Greek myth set pieces because Rachel has now been openly called out for being arrogant in her 'knowledge' of Greek myth and it has people analyzing just how little Greek there is in this Greek myth "retelling". It's especially apparent in the second season when the whole thing is just self-insert fantasies about Hades and Persephone living together until the plot finally has to get moving again. Every now and then Rachel remembers that this is supposed to be a retelling, so she'll throw in some random Greek myth reference like the Colchian dragon or Aphrodite marrying Hephaestus or Thetis and Achilles.

It's very evident that Rachel never learned how to write a longform story or planned to make LO as long as it is and the story has suffered all the more for it. And it sucks because that's not the story I got onboard with back in 2019-2020, but that's where we are. Ironically, as much as I criticize LO for not having enough Greek myth influence in it, I do think the story would have been far better off if it just stayed as a cheesy office romance fluff fic. It's clearly what Rachel wanted to write but either she or WT (or both) got ahead of themselves and took on more than what LO - and Rachel - were equipped to follow through on.

[suzukiblu]

who is match?

That . . . is a slightly complicated question, friend, because he keeps getting either retconned or getting given VERY alternate origins, hah. When I'M talking about him, I'm usually talking about specifically this version:

THAT Match is the OG version from the nineties, who was created by the Agenda as a clone of Superboy and meant to be the first draft/test run of a line of metahuman clone soldiers they wanted to produce to, like, sell to the highest bidder. He's an asshole who insists that he has no free will and therefore can't be enslaved while VERY CLEARLY BEING A PERSON WITH FREE WILL WHO IS BEING ENSLAVED, and the Agenda mostly trots him out to pretend to be Superboy and fuck with Project Cadmus or the superhero community in general or just try to murder Superboy/Young Justice/whoever they're annoyed with this week, I guess. His whole thing is he's better-educated than Superboy and knows more about literally everything but especially how their powers work, because he got the full education uploads (AND THE FULL INDOCTRINATION UPLOADS, JUST SAYIN') while Superboy got yanked out of his own cloning tube early and saved from . . . well, at least SOME of the mind control that Cadmus was gonna stuff in his head. SOME of it.

( goddammit, Lex )

This Match considers Superboy obsolete and himself as a better, updated version of their design, and again, is way better-educated and better with their powers. He is also way less creative and self-motivated, however, which tends to bite him in the ass when Superboy decides to get batshit in their fights. Like, that's generally how Superboy beats him, when he does: he just does something absolutely fucking STUPID and it works because Match is thinking "no one would actually be that stupid--oh my GOD how are you THIS STUPID?!?!"

Later on for no apparent reason they decided to have him genetically degrade and go Bizarro in Teen Titans, which annoyed the fuck out of me because it's actually the literal worst possible thing you could do to a character who prides themselves on being an improved design and more intelligent than their rival/enemy/foil, but like . . . the narrative was not really examining that, from what I know of it, the narrative was just "oh Bizarro Superboy is here to upset/freak out everybody while Kon is dead and also now he's being mind-controlled by an asshole and the good guys are . . . fine with that? for some reason??" and just . . . sigh. SIGH. And then he gets fucking murdered and used for scrap parts to make MORE Superboy clones, which oh my god, fucking horrifying TOO and YET . . .

Though apparently in Rebirth, he's alive again and they've semi-redone his origin and made him a clone of Superboy that Amanda Waller has inexplicably managed to produce and even more inexplicably somehow uploaded all of Kon's memories into? Somehow?? And is forcing to work on the Suicide Squad for her, because fuck Amanda Waller, jfc. And for a while in there he thought he WAS Kon, because like, how the fuck would he have known different. So that was fun for him to find out about, I guess! Especially because he ALSO started to Bizarro-degenerate about five seconds into that particular realization.

FYI KON HAS TRIED TO SAVE THIS BOY SO MANY TIMES AND IT HAS NEVER WORKED. NEVER. IT KILLS ME.

Also he seems to have inherited Kon's thing for older women along with his presumable memories, cough cough cough.

And ALSO there's a version of Match in Young Justice Animated who is actually OLDER than Conner, because he was directly cloned from purely Kryptonian DNA and then failed as a weapon because he wasn't controllable, and Project Kr was created as a hybridized clone after he became too unmanageable to use. He's apparently just full-stop psychotically violent due to shitty mental conditioning and instability in his Kryptonian DNA, and very much unbalanced, which is waaaaay different than the more calculating and educated version we first got in the comics.

It actually low-key makes me insane that they apparently just decided to make a character who was all uncontrollable violence and rage and just, like . . . never revisit him or actually HELP him despite the fact that he is EXPLICITLY both mentally AND physically compromised and therefore can't really be considered to be, you know, an informed asshole making informed asshole decisions any more than Conner was when his pod first got cracked. Project Match is a fucking baby who's had a very shit excuse for a "life" and has been CONDITIONED to respond violently AND is effectively suffering from a genetic disorder, but we're just gonna . . . ignore that, I guess . . . and punish him for it? I guess?? For being how he was made and not having the mental capacity to figure out how to be anything else in the, like, thirty fucking seconds of actual consciousness the series allows him??

And I am just not gonna talk about what they did to him in the tie-in comic, hahaha. FUCK that tie-in comic.

( one day I will write fix-it fic for you, YJ Animated Match. one day. I AM COMING FOR YOU. BE STRONG. )

[ladyloveandjustice]

I felt like my faith in humanity was dying reading the tags on that Atla poll. Half of the hero team and one whole villain squad were women ffs, during a time when most shows still had on designated girl slot on the team, or maybe two for tomboy and girly girl.

"Being motherly is Katara's whole character" I see, I see

Wanting to master waterbending -> being a mom

being fed up with her own slow progress and lashing out -> being a mom

stealing back a cultural heirloom in spite of the consequences -> being a mom

taking on two waterbending masters and defeating one with their own technique -> being a mom

standing up for the oppressed and exploited -> being a mom

ecoterrorism -> being a mom

suggesting a kiss between herself and Aang and being offended by his idiotic reply -> being a mom

having big and impotant battles in all three season finales -> being a mom

lmao about the ecoterrorism you're so right and she was so right for doing it.

Yeah there was a tag that Katara's entire character was "being a Mom and her trauma" which again, I think it just straight up misogyny disguised as feminism. I've never heard anyone say "all there is to Zuko is his trauma" despite the narrative spending so much more time on him grappling with it.

Why is it when it's a female character, having trauma and exploring that trauma is a bad thing? Katara's pain and anger and hatred and grief is just as important as a male character's, but instead it gets dismissed and used as a point to get her. When it's a male character, it's "complexity" but when it's her she's a stereotype. The fact her trauma was taken seriously, that she got mad and wanted revenge and was terrifying when she attempted revenge in a way that was usually reserved for male characters is actually really important to me! There are so so many male characters that have this kind of trauma and it makes them cool and angsty and badass.

(lmao now I'm imagining someone saying "all there is to Batman is being a dad and his trauma". Why have we never heard that. god the misandry).

That's all there is to her character? Like what about her staunch commitment to justice and desire to put herself on the line to help anyone in trouble without caring about the consequences? What about her constant stubborn rage and desire to challenge the establishment? What about her resistance to sexism and willingness to challenge tradition? Her tendency to hold massive grudges? Her desire to make fun of her brother every chance she gets? Her passion for honing her waterbending and commitment to her craft? Her desire to fight and get better at fighting? as you said, her intense jealousy when Aang catches on to waterbending better than she did, to the point where she lashes out at him (she's clearly momming him there SUCH a Mom)? Her anger at her father for leaving her and her brother behind? I could go on.

"she and toph are not as complex as aang and zuko" no you just care about them more. Skill issue. (love how poor Sokka gets left out).

TBH I do think "The Runaway" exaggerated her motherliness (and in framing her as a wet blanket. she LOVES having fun and committing crimes. Though you could argue her concern there had to do with the gravity of what they were about to do and the possibility of getting caught, which is what she emphasized rather than it being "wrong" (i mean it was wrong. but Katara didn't seem to care lmao). if anything it was ooc for Sokka to be so into it considering his earlier commitment to the schedule and previous disapproval of theft.) But it also made the point she was very much forced into this role at a way-too-young age as a result of absent parents.

And she, notably, RESENTS that. One of the first things we learn about her is she resents that! She screams at Sokka that she's sick of keeping the family together, sick of doing his laundry, that how she's treated is sexist...it's not something she enjoys, and that makes sense! in the Big Joel comments I saw a lot of comments related to how she's parentified (using that specific term).

I don't think her love and protectiveness of others falls under being a mom, btw. There are plenty of times she acts as a peer to the others, or is even the immature one in the situation. Especially in the first season, where Sokka really had the role of the wet blanket (he was kind of parentified too, fandom just doesn't really focus on that. It just manifests in a different way because he was asked to be "the man of the house". His early sexism, his need to be in control, the way he often chides Aang and Katara for goofing off, his (sometimes very justified) paranoia about things going wrong and hyper vigilance about protecting the group and keeping them on task ,those are all things that partly come from thinking he has to assume a parental role imo). It is an established part of her personality but every time she looks after someone or holds the team together is not "being a mom".

If you want to see a Katara that's entirely defined by her trauma (her anger left out) and relationships with men, just go watch the netflix show or the movie. You'll notice the difference!

Well i just really went on a rant there. But I do deeply love Katara and she's my favorite and fandom misunderstands her so much. As much as I was talking about the atmosphere of 2005, I think there's something much more insidious about dismissing female characters but dressing it up as "feminist critique".

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff and smut (eventually), some teasing, sexual tension and some lustful feelings but I think it's still a slow-burn love story.

A/N: I had some struggles writing this down, it took me several days to get it right. Maybe this chapter still sounds better in my head than the written lines. But I hope you all like reading it.

A big thank you @poetic-fiasco 💚❤️ for a phrase you created in a completely different context (you know which phrase I mean) and for allowing me to use it. It's just two words but they fitted perfectly that evening 😅

Loki stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the large living room of his penthouse in Jersey City, New Jersey and enjoyed the first rays of sunshine in the morning. He loved the fantastic view from here over the Hudson River to the amazing skyline of Manhattan in the light of the rising sun. How far he had come. He still quarrelled with what he had done to this city and its inhabitants and the sick plans he had to rule this planet as their king. Fortunately, he got stopped right in time, further damage was prevented and after realizing his mistake, a mistake he made because he was being tortured and forced, he got the chance for redemption. He had made good use of it. The beast was annihilated in close combat and not at least because of his help and his extraordinary skills to talk, to lie, to trick, to use his magic and to fight.

In the beginning, many of the Avengers were wary and didn't trust him. But his brother never gave up on him, he never lost his trust in him or the love he had for him. Loki would always be grateful for it and yes, he loved his brother, too. Indeed. After many times in over ten years of proving his loyalty, his sense of justice, his negotiation skills and his will to fight for the right things, literally and figuratively, they all became friends, more or less, and since two years, mostly working as an ambassador and negotiator, he was allowed to live alone without any kind of “babysitting”. Of course, his brother still kept an eye on him and so did Tony Stark. But it became more and more a kind of visiting each other than controlling him. Loki was fine with that. He knew some things needed time to be forgiven and living under the radar when he came back to New York twelve years ago, under a fake name and in solitude, made things easier for him. People came to New York and also left this city again. It happens frequently in a metropolis with millions of population and also people forget easily in the fast pace and hectic of today's time. It also wouldn't be long anymore before he would have served his sentence and he would be free to go wherever he wanted.

While watching the first Staten Island Ferries launching for the Statue of Liberty and just clothed in black sweatpants, one hand in his pocket and a mug of coffee in his other hand, he was thinking of you. He still felt your body and your warmth in his arms. He shouldn't. He decided to live alone, unattached to a woman. He had his brother and his friends and that was already more than he deserved. Also, love and relationships never ended well for him and he was tired of getting his heart broken over and over again. Maybe a sinner like him with blood-drenched hands didn't deserve the love and affection of a woman at all. He was fine with only having sexual affairs from time to time with faceless, nameless women to satisfy his carnal needs.

But it has been a while now since he had a woman tangled in his bedsheets and getting a lusty distraction from his loneliness. He'd love to have physical contact again but not with another faceless woman. If he would share a bed with someone again it had to be you. You had entered his life and he couldn't get you out of his head. He loved your appearance, which was surely a fassade or sort of a costume, he was well aware of that. If there was someone who could relate to it, it was him. There was much more he liked about you, the lovely and decent woman behind that masquerade. He had already seen some tiny little glimpses of the real you, who were shoved into a situation you seemingly never wanted. He liked your attitude, sassy and cute, you were eloquent and smart. You knew what you wanted and what you did not want.

The little mistake you had made at the dining table didn't bother him at all. Nobody is perfect and he knew exactly what he was talking about. It just made you more adorable. But how realistic was his wish to sleep with you? You had made it very clear that you weren't interested in getting sexually involved with him. And he had told you the same. And wouldn't it be inconsequential to change his mind now? He also struggled with the ‘sex-only’-thing when it came to you. Didn't you deserve more and better? You shouldn't sleep with someone like him. Knee-deep in blood, sin and guilt. Guilty of murder. Guilty of having tried to conquer a planet and subjugate the people of Earth against their will. Your people. If you knew his real identity you would hate him. Abysmal hate from the bottom of your heart perhaps. You were an angel and he was the sinner. Heaven and hell. You two had nothing in common, nothing was binding you. You were his escort, his distraction. His distraction from pain and loneliness. And he was just your client, one of many who paid you for your service, who paid the money you urgently needed for who knows what. But he hated that other men touched you, and spent time with you. He knew his blood-drenched hands weren't worthy to touch you at all but other men weren't worthy to touch you either.

Damn, he shouldn't have danced with you. Because now he wanted the feeling of you in his arms over and over again. Yes, it did things to him and that evening, when he physically was so close to you it wasn't easy for him to suppress an erection. But this urge to hold you in his arms again wasn't just sexual. He wanted to feel your warmth, your closeness again and not least he wanted to enjoy your company again. And he wanted to take care of you. A care you surely wouldn't want or need. He didn't deserve you but he wanted you, wanted to be with you, no matter what and he must find a way to avoid that other men would ever lay an eye or a hand on you or take advantage of you.

All of this was the reason why he wanted to book you for next Saturday. He had already sent an email to your agency promptly after your first date and expected the confirmation for the appointment during the day. He would go to the opening of a small art gallery with you, an event he actually didn't want to go to. He didn't really like to go to exclusively social events without a business background. He had decided otherwise now because it was a perfect reason for booking you to escort him to this event …and to see you again. You came into his life and only then he realized how utterly lonely he was. Maybe at least it hadn't been a good decision to live a life in solitude. Should he ask you for a shared night? Would you agree? Would it be too soon and too offensive to ask you? If you'd agree to share the bed with him, you’d have to follow some of his rules because there was still this one thing he could never let you know.

Besides all of this, he would give you all the money you needed without getting anything from you but it seemed you would never take his money without giving something in return. He was sure you wouldn't even ask him for money and you probably had good reasons for it. Loki took a sip of his coffee, reached for a random book on his impressive bookshelf and tried to distract himself by reading a few lines. He made himself comfortable on his sofa and began to read. It didn't work. His thoughts always drifted back to you.

**********************

What should you do now? You sat at the table in your apartment, your lunch untouched on a plate next to you. You weren't hungry. There was a lump in your stomach and it took away your appetite. How should you manage all of this? Your studies, the bills, the increased rent for your apartment and your mum's nursing home, visiting her on Sundays, daily dates with men you had to escort to functions, and from now on appointments for the weekends, too. You should focus on your studies and finish your degree to get back to a serious, well-paid job again. You didn't want to work as an escort lady for the rest of your life. But your study was so expensive that you ran out of money sooner than expected. You still had some saved money but you needed it for something else so you wouldn't touch it.

There have been times when you had all the money and possibilities to afford an apartment like this, your mum's nursing home and the care for her, and a nice life with all its amenities. And because of one silly mistake your whole life crashed down. But maybe you didn't deserve it any better. You sat in front of your laptop and stared at the files of your bank statement and your busy schedule. Now there were some options. There were just two if you were being honest. You could twist and squirm all you want, you wouldn't earn enough money, not even as an escort. You could move into a much cheaper and even smaller apartment which wouldn't be easy in Manhattan, unless you liked to live in a rathole. But you had to try it and in the worst case, you would live in a rathole, for heaven's sake. Also, you could earn some more money a bit faster if you…the thought made you cringe but you had to do it, you had no other choice. But there was only this one man imaginable for you, the one who had told you, he only wanted to be escorted by you and nothing more. And after that dumb mistake at your first real appointment with him, you had been sure you would never see him again. Luke Larsson was a man who didn't accept unprofessionalism. And yet he had been very nice to you and you appreciated it.

You took a sip of your coffee and calculated your financial issues for the umpteenth time. It was to despair. Would you ever find a way out of this fucked up situation? Sometimes you wished you could go back to your little village in the south of Great Britain, back into your little happy bubble, far away from trouble, bad news and harsh reality. Back to the times when you baked cinnamon rolls with your mum every Sunday afternoon. Life was peaceful there but those times were over. Welcome to reality!

Taking another sip of your coffee, you were closing the laptop lid, when a pling was signalling an incoming email. You opened the laptop lid completely again and opened the mail. It was from Rhea. She had promised to send you the further details of Luke's next appointment with you.

Hey dear,

I hope you're doing well. As promised earlier, here's the update for your appointment with Mr. Larsson.

It's on Saturday afternoon and I hope this fits your schedule. It's a gallery opening so I hope this information helps to choose the right clothing appropriate to the occasion.

Mr. Larsson will wait for you at the gallery, Walker will drive you there. He'll pick you up at your home at 3 pm. If you have any further questions, feel free to call me and please mail me your confirmation for this appointment so I can inform Mr Larsson.

PS: please remember the date with Mr Rogers tonight. I'm sorry that he had booked you at short notice. Have fun!

Take care, dear

Rhea

Luke had booked you again. He really wanted you to escort him again and you still couldn't believe it. Thank goodness he was not resentful and hadn't told Rhea about your stupid mistake. He gave you a second chance and you looked forward to seeing him again but you felt nervous at the same time. Things were getting real now. Should you offer him your advanced service? He didn't flirt, that's what he made very clear to you but the way he danced with you and looked at you has been very close to it. And it felt good. You barely remembered when it was the last time someone had looked at you like he did that evening.

Anyway, will he say yes? Why should he say yes and also pay for it? He could have any woman he wanted, they surely lined up at his door to spend a night of debauched passion with him. This man was pure sex. Women probably fling themselves at him daily. Your heart clenched painfully when you pictured him with other women, more lovable and more desirable than you. But you had no right to judge him or the other women for it. You had no right to think and feel like that. At least he was a man with carnal needs. You didn't have an exclusive right to meet him. It was the other way around, he decided if he wanted you to escort him or not. You should better be grateful that Luke wanted to meet you again.

You should give it a try and offer him to sleep with you. Couldn't be that difficult. It was just sex, right? You never cared much about sex, you never understood what the fuss was all about. Your exes never had much patience with you when you needed a bit longer to feel satisfied and maybe you had always been the problem. So what. A quick fuck, in and out and in between moaning a little horny and he would be done in three minutes. You were good at faking orgasms. Pretending you enjoy it as much as he does shouldn't be that difficult for you. He wouldn't even notice it, men never noticed. You always thought you would be too decent for that, having sex with a client but you had already fallen so deep…and fuck decency. Life gave a shit about it…so why should you!

For now, you should focus on your next date tonight, Mr.Rogers. You would meet him at a dancing hall. You like dancing and for now, it would be a good distraction from your current problems. It seemed a bit old-fashioned to go to a dancing bar where they played old classics from the 40's and 50’s but you were sure you would've fun and a decent gentleman at your side tonight. And after tonight you had just one more date and then it would already be Saturday, when you would see Luke again. A little smile curved your lips and you headed to the bathroom to get ready for tonight. It was time for Sugar's performance.

Your date for Friday night got cancelled. You were already waiting at Vivian's Velvet and having your obligatory glass of champagne at the bar when Rhea sent you a message. Your client got ill but maybe he just changed his mind. It didn't happen very often but it happened. Well, you had a free evening now, and you still got paid because it wasn't your fault the date was cancelled so you had some time to think about some rules and boundaries for sexual intercourse with clients. Or should you better say, rules for having sex with Luke? There were definitely some things you wouldn't do and you should be well prepared for a clarifying conversation. No perverse shit, no hard-core sex and the most important thing: no kisses! And falling in love is strictly forbidden, for both sides. Sex only!

You would never fall for a client and you would never fall for Luke Larsson. Not for his stupid, soft obsidian curls, not for his broad shoulders, his strong arms or his long legs, not for his incredible charm, or his beautiful eyes, not for his devastating smile, no matter how handsome he was or how fast he made your heart beating. He was your client and that's all he'll ever be.

On Saturday morning you've gotten up early to have enough time for grocery shopping, doing the dishes and cleaning up your messy apartment. Books and papers for your studies and clothes, your normal ones and those you had worn for your dates, were spread all over the floor, chairs, the table and the sofa. The daily appointments on weekdays had a deep impact on your daily routine. You were so tired sometimes that you didn't have the energy to clean everything up daily. And from now on you won't have the weekends either to relax a little bit. So you were in a hurry now because your appointment was already in the afternoon today and you still had to shower and prepare yourself for the gallery opening. You weren't sure if you were ready to ask Luke if he wanted to sleep with you but you'd definitely ask him. The pressure to earn more money quickly was getting higher and you've come to terms with it that you had to expand your service.

After showering you looked through your closet to find an adequate outfit for a gallery opening. You decided to go for an elegant, refined trouser suit in pastel pink, combined with a white blouse with a deep neckline, and white high heels. Underneath you wore white lace underwear. You loved this sexy set of bra and thong but it let you look more innocent than you were. You hoped Luke would like it, in case he would accept your offer tonight. With your hair in a tight bun with the knot deep in your neck and dark pink lipstick on your lips, Sugar was ready to meet Mr Larsson.

Walker drove you to the gallery where Luke was already waiting for you. Walker got out of the limousine but Loki gestured to him that he wanted to open the door for you. The moment you got out of the backseat and took the hand he was offering you, you were directly under his spell again. He looked so dapper and seductive in his suit which was midnight blue, combined with a tight-fitting white shirt, its collar open, his beautiful neck on perfect display. His look was completed by black Oxfords and a silk scarf around his neck. The scarf shimmered in the darkest shades of blue and green you had ever seen. The scent of his cologne was alluring and you wanted to bury your nose into his soft hair that framed his incredibly beautiful face perfectly. Indeed, he was a god in a suit or maybe he was the devil himself. A handsome devil, seductively hot, ready to take you with him into his den of desire, ready to burn with you in hell. Damn it, your imagination was running too wild.

“Good afternoon, Sugar. Thank you for coming. I'm glad to see you and you look beautiful again”, he greeted you gentlemanly and you came back to reality.

“Good afternoon, Luke. Thank you for your compliment…I think I look a bit like candy floss…,” you answered jokingly and turned in a circle once, a big grin on your face.

“Sorry, I don't quite understand…” Loki said and looked quizzically at you. For him you looked lovely, like a beautiful, sexy angel.

“Candy floss, it's mostly pastel pink and… made of sugar… nah, forget it, it was a bad joke,” you smiled at him and shook your head lightly and Loki smiled back at you. He looked so pretty when he smiled. “Thank you for booking me again. It's a pleasure to accompany you to the opening.” you continued kindly.

“Don't worry, it wasn't a bad joke. I just don't know what candyfloss is and to me, you look beautiful,” he told you. It was what he honestly thought and he could imagine that you probably taste sweet like sugar. “I hope you like art?”

“Oh yes, I do. I'm already excited to have a look at all of the artwork.” You replied genuinely and Loki smiled contentedly at you.

“Then let's go inside,” and he offered you his arm which you took gratefully. It felt so good to touch him.

Inside, you two were greeted by a middle-aged beautiful woman who was the gallery owner and an old friend of Tony Stark. She gave you a short introduction to the artworks in her gallery and that you should feel free to get drinks, canapés and sweets from the buffet. Just from the way she looked at Luke, you could tell she was enchanted by him and you couldn't blame her for it. But you felt something inside of you you should better not feel at all. It felt as if she would take him away from you and he wasn't even a friend of yours. You should better not forget what you were for him. You were his escort, something like a fake date and he was your client. While he was still in conversation with different people who seemed to know him, you strolled through the exhibition until you stood in front of a painting you couldn't keep your eyes off.

*************

Loki tried to end the several conversations he was drawn into, quickly because you were already on your way through the gallery and he wanted to spend the time with you and not with random guests who came to the opening. First, he couldn't find you, there were so many people in there but around the next corner, he finally found you.

You stood in front of a painting you couldn't stop staring at. A painting with a golden elegant vase filled to the brim with all sorts of wildflowers, tulips, roses, daffodils, lilies, and peonies, loosely arranged in it. As elegant as the vase was, as wild and untamed were the flowers. Loki couldn't stop staring at you and enjoying the view of the woman he began to care about. It touched him how fascinated you stared at the painting and how you were able to zone out the world around you. You literally bathed in the effect of the picture which it obviously had on you. He gave you further moments of enjoyment before he walked towards you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Do you like it?” He asked you politely

“Yes,... it's beautiful. I don't know why, it's just…the flowers, the colours…it just put a spell on me. The flowers are pure life, colourful, beautiful, wild but destined to wither and die because they got cut but still…they are pure beauty and I can literally smell their various wonderful scents.” You were still captivated when you whispered under your breath so Loki couldn't hear it “... and they remind me of home…like your British accent…”

“Yeah, it attracts us, it's winning us all over whether we want it or not. Some things have this effect on us,” he replied and walked closer to you.

Loki had an idea why you liked the painting that much. The motif reminded him of you: elegant and pretty as the vase, and wonderful, wild, free, untamed and colourful as the flowers. But if he would paint this picture of you right now, the vase would lay shattered on the floor and the flowers were crushed and stepped on, everything broken and sad. That's what he saw whenever he looked into your eyes and he wished he could help you with more than just his money.

“Is that so, Luke?” and you turned towards him.

“What do you mean? “ He looked at you from above. He was so tall and so close to you. It was now or never. You knew if you wouldn't do it now, your courage would leave you faster than you could imagine.

“What is it that attracts you?” and your one hand softly caressed his outer thigh, travelled upwards over his really adorable butt, kneading it gently, and then farther upwards to the waistband of his trousers. Your actions went straight to his cock which twitched against the confinement of his slacks. Your gaze was pure seduction and your hand on his body was hot like fire. He grabbed your wrist at lightning speed.

“What are you doing there, Sugar?” he murmured darkly, frowning.

“Testing the waters. Testing if you're really not interested in flirting. I can feel some…tension between us, if you know what I mean,” you whispered and your gaze wandered down from his eyes over his lips and his body to his visible bulge. Were you really capable of doing this to him? Or did he just get hard because you might promise him a quicky? Your gazing down at his manhood didn't go unnoticed by Loki. What were you up to?

“Stop being naughty, Sugar,” he growled darkly.

“Why? Don't you like it when I touch you?”

“We have a deal. Don't forget about that. And besides, you have no idea what you're asking for.”

“Really? Maybe I know exactly what I'm asking for. And deals are negotiable,” your words were dripping like honey from your mouth.

“No! And you have no idea what it means to tease me!” Loki responded firmly.

“Uhhh…now I'm curious. Don't play hard to get, handsome,” you cooed.

You knew you were playing with fire. But didn't all men say things like this? And then they promise you endless pleasure just to be done in three minutes or so, leaving you unpleasured and you were sure he wasn't any different. You were used to it and it didn't matter. But maybe you were completely wrong. Seeing him how aroused he got, aroused you too and you wanted to feel him close. Much closer than you had already felt him when he danced with you. You wouldn't evolve feelings for him, never, absolutely not but all of a sudden your body craved attention, touches and some adoration. Against your expectation, you almost felt bad to let him pay for having sex with you. But you were an escort, not his girlfriend and the escort lady got paid, period!

“Wanna sleep with me tonight?” Your shameless offer caught Loki off guard and he immediately let go of your wrist. He played it cool and his facial expression turned to stone. He couldn't believe that you offered him your body so willingly. He should refuse it. But then you would ask another guy and he couldn't allow that. Who knew how another guy would treat you? He also couldn't deny that he wanted you, that he craved your touch and your attention. But what the hell made you do this?

You grabbed the loose ends of his scarf and pulled his head gently down and him closer towards you so you could speak right into his ear.

“There's nothing to it, Luke. Just two needy bodies, giving each other some pleasure to get some steam off. What do you think? ”

What were you thinking? What if he declined your offer? He could have any woman in this city and he wouldn't even have to pay for it. You weren't any special, just expensive to book, and if he says no you would've made a terrible fool out of yourself.

“I think you still haven't an idea what you're asking for…I'm not a tender lover,” he grumbled.

“It doesn't matter, tenderness is for beginners. I'm not scared of you.”

It was just the half of the truth. It didn't matter because the few men you had been with hadn't been overly tender but you were afraid of him, not in a bad way though. You had a lot of respect for him, he radiated dominance and masculinity and it aroused you, he aroused you and that was what made you fear him. He made you feel good and safe and that scared you.

“Do you offer this…special service of yours to other men, too? Despite that, you told me you're done with men.” He had no right to ask you this. He had no right to be jealous or possessive. He shouldn't go too far, you weren't his and you could do whatever you wanted. But it made his heart clench when he thought about other men touching you.

“If I do, it's none of your business! And I'm free to change my mind about men. I do what I want.” You whispered firmly into his ear.

How dare he ask you that? It was a normal thing many escort ladies did and there was nothing wrong about it. It happened frequently and consensually. But you didn't judge him for that question and it didn't surprise you that he thought you offered sex to your other clients too. He couldn't know you weren't doing it.

“I won't discuss it with you. So, your decision …do you want me or not?” you purred into his ear.

“Are you really sure you want it? If so, to be very clear, don't expect anything more than just the physical act. I just copulate, don't expect any feelings of love from me. Nothing will change that." His voice was pure velvet in your ear and his warm breath fanned over your neck to your cleavage. It made you shiver pleasantly.

“Well, that's fair enough. I'm not looking for love, as you should know.”

“We still see it the same way then.”

“We do, Luke”, and you loosened your grip on his scarf, put your hands on his chest and let them tenderly travel down over his pecs to his midriff before you took them off of his gorgeous body. Even clothed you could feel every perfectly defined muscle.

Loki had goosebumps all over his skin. You made him feel too comfortable around you and to his astonishment, this feeling wasn't just sexual.

“So we have a deal?” you wanted to know.

“We have a deal”, Loki confirmed. Your hands travelling down his torso hadn't helped get rid of his erection, not in the slightest.

“Then let's go to my hotel later. It's one of the best in Manhattan. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. Scottish whisky for you, champagne for me and…nearly whatever you want, including me.” You were so nervous. Would he like you? Could you satisfy his needs? How rough would he get? You'd definitely need a glass of champagne before you could let him touch you and a cigarette afterwards.

Nonetheless, you'd try to enjoy it. He was such a gentleman and you were absolutely sure he would treat you well and respectfully. And he smelled so good. It was like a drug. Also, you had some rules and if he wouldn't respect and accept them, you would definitely not sleep with him. And you had Walker, he would always protect you.

“Nearly whatever I want? What does that mean, Sugar?” he questioned softly.

“What I said. But I have rules. Strict rules.”

“Of course, you have. And I have mine. We should talk about them later. I don't think it's the right place here for that”, he whispered.

“Yeah, I suggest we settle the matter later in the hotel. Walker will drive us there”, you offered him.

“That's a good call”, he answered, nodding in agreement.

“Fine.” You licked your lips and bit lightly into your lower lip. Loki gasped inwardly. Why were you doing this? Suddenly he turned his head to the side.

“Is everything okay, Luke?”

“I don't like how that guy looks at you”, Loki growled quietly.

“Which guy?” you wanted to know.

“The guy across from us” and you followed Loki's gaze.

“Let him stare.”

“Absolutely not. You're here with me. No one stares at you like this”, Loki murmured and he put his arm possessively around your middle and pulled you close to his side. Absolutely no one was allowed to look at you like this when you were with him.

“He's just jealous of you, Luke. Maybe he likes my trouser suit...or he's a peeper. Don't worry, I'm still your arm candy”, you tried to calm him down but you couldn't suppress a grin.

If looks could kill, the poor guy would die in an instant. You put an arm around Loki's waist and placed your other hand on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, like yours and you both looked at the guy. Loki with a death stare and you with a bright smile. You loved this game you played together. And it made your heart swell that he got angry just because of a random guy who looked at you. None of your exes had been like this. Under different circumstances, you two would be a wonderful couple. The guy immediately looked away, obviously feeling embarrassed and frightened, and turned around.

“Would you please take your hand from my chest?”

“Just in case you let go of my waist.” you offered him sweetly.

“Sorry, I didn't want to…” and he cleared his throat.

“It's okay, Luke, don't worry. We're going to get much closer tonight…Shall we look for some canapés and drinks? It seems, you could need a cooling down”, you said with a quick look at his crotch. Was there a rosy shade on his perfect cheeks? “…oh and I want a dessert…”, and you took him by his hand and pulled him with you to the buffet.

“You and your desserts”, he laughed, amused.

“You should try them some day”, you smiled brightly at him.

“No, thanks, I'm good”, Loki answered, trying to sound serious.

After having some drinks and snacks, you ate the final bite of your dessert and licked the last bits off of the spoon and your lips. Loki was wondering if you did it on purpose. It seemed you liked to tease him and to add to the sexual tension that was obviously still buzzing between you two. It was still palpable. You knew how to seduce and it made you even more desirable.

“Shall we have a look at the other works in the gallery before we leave? I'd like to see them.”

“Anything you want, Sugar. We have time, don't we?”

“I hope so…or are you eager to get to the hotel soon” you teased him.

“I might be horny but I can control myself.”

“Really? That's rare. Most men can't wait to blow their load,” you answered lasciviously and smiled knowingly. You wondered where your self-confidence came from. The thing that was to come was new terrain for you. Shouldn't you feel more nervous? But maybe this was just how you tried to downplay your nervousness.

Loki smirked and rolled his eyes.

“You really amaze me. You're such a beautiful and decent woman but you've such a filthy mouth.”

If only he knew. If you ever have been decent, your decency would soon be gone. At the latest when he fucked you. He would see you differently then and maybe he would also lose his respect for you. And that was one of your biggest fears.

🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹

Tag list:

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @anukulee @fictive-sl0th @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @gruftiela @stupidthoughtsinwriting @wheredafandomat @lovingchoices14 @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @km-ffluv

[killjoyfem]

Remembering her: with the American verdict, Heard has faced more than the culture’s wrath — she has faced global humiliation.

The entire case had been like a “Black Mirror” episode. A dystopian nightmare in which TikToks of a distraught woman detailing an alleged sexual assault were devoured with popcorn and laughter. Twitter hashtags — #AmberIsALiar, #AmbersAPsychopath, #TeamJohnny — made it a trial by media.

Those supporting Heard received death threats, rape threats, a constant bombardment of hate for simply saying, “I stand with Amber.” I know: I got them in bucketloads.

We saw tired, misogynistic methods used again and again to discredit a woman trying to stand up for her rights. Blaming Heard for not leaving, for fighting back, for not being bruised enough, for not having enough evidence. And when she did have evidence? Depp’s team portrayed her as a manipulative liar — and the jury appears to have found this credible.

Heard’s psychologist, Dawn Hughes, testified that Heard had post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of domestic abuse. Psychologist Shannon Curry, a witness for Depp, diagnosed Heard with borderline personality disorder and histrionic personality disorder — despite having never treated her.

As a barrister, I have witnessed the pathologization of survivors become a go-to tactic to discredit them. Slamming a woman’s mental state has always been a quick and easy way to gaslight them — “Oh, she’s crazy,” “she’s so unstable” — “medicine” as a misogynist’s handmaiden.

Many women who watched this trial will recognize this, the classic DARVO playbook in action: deny, attack and reverse victim and offender. And they will fear that they could be next.

The trial reinforced the notion that those who speak out must look, sound and act a certain way. They must conform to the stereotype of the “perfect victim,” one who cowers in a corner, voiceless and powerless. That woman doesn’t speak or fight back.

This is a trope. It rarely exists.

I’ve seen victims behave in all manner of ways in abusive relationships and in the courtroom. Perhaps the only time we see the “perfect victim”? In movies written by men.

As the verdict came, abuse survivors expressed their devastation online. One psychologist told Rolling Stone that “hundreds” of survivors had contacted her to retract victim statements or pulled out from court cases as a result of watching the trial.

The biggest losers here are the U.S. justice system and the women who might otherwise have put their faith in it. Women have been told that if we have enough evidence, we’ll be believed. The truth is, it doesn’t matter how much evidence we have. The system is rigged against women.

Do you think it’s fair that a woman had to testify before a man she says abused her, while that man sat there, smirking? Do you think it’s fair that, throughout the trial, the most intimate and traumatic details were broadcast for the world to see? Do you think it’s fair that Heard was ordered to pay millions of dollars for writing an article that didn’t even name the man who has prevailed in this case?

Heard had the PR team. She had the legal team. Still, she couldn’t win. All we got during weeks of painful testimony was a woman being treated like a villain, a famous man showered with adoration and a justice system failing to protect what it supposedly promises to defend.

The Depp-Heard trial was a circus. The verdict is a gag order. (source)

[dontyouworrydaddy]

I have a more dark ask for you, so feel free to ignore it if it makes you uncomfortable. How would TF 141, Konig and Los Vaqueros react when they realize their s/o is a wanted serial killer? They would probably be shocked that such a kind and sweet woman is hiding such a dark secret. To add to the moral ambiguity, she only targets child abusers and rap!sts. Thank you and sorry in advance if this request upsets you.

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧‘𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞?

Task Force 141 (+ König & Los Vaqueros) x fem! reader

Hi! First of all, I feel absolutely comfortable to write about dark themed stuff :) So it’s totally fine and I‘m actually excited to write this. This might take a bit longer than the others, since I think this is a very interesting and good idea.

Love you! 🩷

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

König

He usually never forgets where he puts his phone. But this time he didn’t know where he put it, so he took your phone to calm himself. But as he unlocks your phone he sees a text coming up and at first he tried to ignore it, since he respects your privacy. But one specific word and a name gained his attention…

Job- Josh Williams

What was this Job? You work as a nurse at the hospital. And who is Josh Williams? Is it someone you are treating? But he for sure would know if you told him about a Josh. Curiosity took over him and he clicked on the notification, wanting to find out what this Job is and who the hell Josh is.

Job- Josh Williams

Child abuser. Was on court, got away with it. Mother is scared he might do something to them. Current Location: England, London. Last seen in Bar Soho, alone. You know what to do Ashley. Send a picture of the body as soon as you’re finished. Good luck.

König was shocked. This got to be some sick Joke. Your name is not Ashley and you definitely wouldn’t harm someone. You can’t even kill a spider and start crying when König tells you to just do it. But he decided to swipe and he sees the conversation between you and this person. And then it clicks.

Ashley, the wanted serial killer in England and Austria, is you? That doesn’t make sense. No.

He lets the phone rest on the kitchen table and calls for you. You were in the bathroom, taking off your make up and getting ready for bed. You just got home from a long and exhausting shift. Or were you really at the hospital?

"Yes, love?“ you enter the room and you see him looking at you. But something was strange. Why is he wearing his mask? And why is he looking at you like you killed someone?

"You’re Ashley?" his voice cold and you could hear the disappointment in his voice. Your smile quickly drops and you look at him completely baffled.

"How?" your voice low and you look down. How could this happen? You made sure that no one ever finds out your true identity. The only thing you let the world know is that your name is Ashley, which is not true, and that you’re fighting for justice, since the government is failing so many women and children. The person who is sending you all these details is your best friend. König likes her because he knows that she is a good influence and you grew up together. But you’re not gonna expose her. Your eyes land on your phone and you don’t know how to feel. Mad because he was on your phone. Or scared that König might tell on you now.

"I can explain" you tell him and he doesn’t break the gaze. You take a step forward but he takes one back. You stop at his reaction and you could swear you felt your heart drop.

"König. I swear I don’t kill innocent people. Only rapists and child abusers. And only then when the government is not doing anything. These women and children are scared and don’t dare to go out because they never know when they might get killed. I swear to you." you desperately explain and your body needs a reaction from him, but he doesn’t react at all. He looks to the side and you wish you could see how he feels now. But he decided to cover his face again, making it hard for you to know how he feels right now.

"Ashley, huh?" his voice is harsh. You don’t dare looking at him. The weight of disappointment settles upon you soul like a leaden cloak, suffocating and heavy, the jagged edges of their expectations carving deep grooves of remorse through the tender fabric of one's self-worth, leaving behind a bitter residue that stains the heart's delicate tapestry for eternity. It is a hollow ache, an echoing chasm where warmth once resided, as the realization of your inadequacy seeps through the cracks of shattered trust, forever haunting the corridors of the conscience with its haunting refrain of missed opportunities and shattered dreams.

“Leave, please" his frigid and callous voice erupted like an icy tempest, each word crystallizing into shards of anguish that pierced the very depths of your soul, leaving behind a lingering ache that whispered of betrayal and shattered trust. You look at him and you can feel the tears build up in the corner of your eyes. Please, no…

“Y/N. Please. I just need time to think” for a second, you hesitate. You don’t want to leave. You both know that what you’re doing is a good thing. Making Women and Children feel safe. But he can’t think straight right now. And you respect that. So without saying anything, you leave, hoping for him to call you as soon as possible. Because your heart can’t stay away from him.

Simon Riley

"Job is done. Payment should follow like usual. Don’t call me unless I call you." you whisper-tell you secret boss. Simon doesn’t know anything about your secret life. You were working as a secret assassin whenever Simon was deployed and when he was at home, you were a nurse.

As you turned around, you saw Simon leaning against the doorframe, looking at you like you were his enemy. At this sight, your heart dropped.

"Simon." you innocently spoke and hid your phone in your back. You smile at him and look at his cold and stony eyes. You felt your heart beat faster and you hope that he didn’t hear you talking about the mission.

"Where were you?" his voice deep and harsh, causing you to jump, since you’re not known to this side of Simon. He would never talk to you like that. He promised himself to be better for you. You gave him nothing but love and comfort so he promised you to be better than ever.

"At the hospital" after these words leave your lips, he starts laughing and shaking his head.

"stop lying" he suddenly yells at you. You take a step back and drop your phone, letting it crack against the cold and hard floor of your shared bedroom. "Where. Were. You. I saw you leave a house. Who was it?" he takes a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you and him.

"Simon. It’s not what you think about." you barely whisper and he lets out a deep chuckle. "Then what is is?" he softly grabs your face with one hand. He usually did this when you weren’t holding eye contact. And now you don’t know how to react. You are already exposed, so you can also just tell him what you did. But if you do, you need to leave tonight. The chances of him calling the cops is too high. Especially when he finds out you’re one of the most wanted female serial killer.

"I killed someone. Someone not innocent. Will Ricksen. He raped his wife and got away with it because he owns a company in the US. The wife got in contact with us because she got threatened by him and she doesn’t want to live with fear anymore. I didn’t cheat on you. I could never. I only kill child abusers and rapists that get away with it. I swear to you, I would never kill someone who is innocent." you close your eyes, afraid to look at him. You were waiting for him to yell at you, scream and tell you how much he is disappointed in you. You were waiting for him to do anything that would break you down, but it never happened. Instead, you felt his rough hands patt the top of your head. And then, the unexpected happens.

Simon pulls you in tight hug and kisses the back if your head. This reaction of him left you confused and baffled. You hesitantly hug him back and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

"Don’t get caught." his voice was trembling and it felt like the inner child in him just spoke. You knew about his traumatic past and you understand his feelings. If you had the chance to kill his father, you would. When he told you his story, you cried. You hugged him so tightly, you were afraid to let go of him.

He didn’t let you go and he reassured you that he won’t tell anyone.

John MacTavish

”The fuck you mean?” you hear your boyfriends voice yell from behind you. You turn around and look at him and quickly end the call. You hope that he wasn’t talking to you but his facial expression and gesture are telling you otherwise.

“What do you mean Josh is dead? Why did this person called you Angela?“ his voice filled with anger, confusion and sadness. His face looks nothing like his usual one. Once, his countenance was a sanctuary of warmth and solace, a sanctuary where his eyes danced with affection and his lips bloomed with a sweet smile that embraced my every arrival. But now, that tender refuge has crumbled into a barren wasteland, where his gaze sears with icy disdain, casting shadows that echo a painful question: "How can I fix this? How do I tell him?"

“Johnny. Please let me explain…" you desperately beg him to let you explain what exactly is going on but it looks like that he has heard enough.

"Don’t call me Johnny. I loved you, Y/N. And now you’re lying to me? You’re a murderer? What exactly do you expect me to say? Oh yeah it’s okay it’s totally not quite the opposite of my Job. Funny, the guy that protects people is dating someone that harms them?" his frustration got the best of him and he doesn’t care if he is hurting you right now. He feels betrayed and hurt. And he wants you to feel the same things. You don’t mind. If your positions were swapped, you would have reacted the same way. But you wish he would let you explain now.

“John. Please. Let me explain. I‘m begg-" you were cut off by him smashing the class on the kitchen table against the wall next to him. You flinch and you feel your heart beat faster than usual. You could feel yourself getting pale.

“Why? I don’t get it. I don’t want to see you.” his cold voice spoke and you felt your heart stop beating. No.

"John, please" you took steps towards him, trying to fight for him, trying to show him that you’re not a bad guy.

"Stop." his harsh voice yelled at you and you stopped right where you are. "Don’t. I love you. But I need some time now. I won’t tell anyone. Just- leave me alone now" without looking back, he smashed the door behind him, making you flinch and leaving you there, heartbroken and angry at yourself. You don’t regret anything. You only regret letting him find it out like that.

John Price

In the dimly lit living room, tension crackled like static electricity between John Price and you, as the weight of unspoken grievances strained the fragile threads of your relationship. The air grew heavy with unspoken words, suffocating the room as your gazes clashed like opposing storms, each thunderous stare hinting at the brewing tempest within.

"John. I swear I‘m not betraying you. Give me a chance to explain! PLEASE! I swear on everything that is important to me, it’s not what you think" you beg him to let you explain your situation. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. He wasn’t supposed to know at all. Why couldn’t you talk a little quieter? Why did you even answer the phone, knowing John was at home.

"Shut up! Stop talking!" with a voice tinged with restrained anger, John's steely gaze bore into you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of disappointment and frustration. It was as if the unspoken accusations hung like a heavy fog in the room, obscuring the truth and suffocating any chance for reconciliation.

As the argument escalated, voices rose, echoing off the walls like distant thunder, their words slicing through the air like sharpened blades. Frustration mingled with regret, staining the once sturdy foundation of trust that had held your relationship together. The silence that followed was deafening, a void filled with unanswered questions and shattered hopes.

"I‘m leaving" with a pained expression etched on his face, John turned away abruptly, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he left you behind, adrift in a sea of unanswered emotions. The weight of his absence settled heavily upon you, the room now filled with a haunting emptiness, leaving you yearning to fill the void and desperately longing for a chance to explain, to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

But for now, all that remained was the echo of an unfinished argument, the lingering ache of shattered camaraderie, and the unanswered plea to understand what had gone so horribly wrong.

You wish he let you explain.

Kyle Garrick

As the sun cast its warm glow upon the bustling city streets, you found yourself standing face-to-face with Kyle, a knot of tension coiling in your chest. Emotions simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill over as the air crackled with the impending storm of their argument.

"You, Kyle…" you began, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and hurt, "cannot simply just not give me a chance to explain and expect me to accept it without question. You always let me explain. What’s happened now?"

Kyle's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mixture of defiance and weariness. "You being a serial killer" he sighed, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation, "I- You‘re the complete opposite of me and god I don’t know what to say. You kill people? What if they find out? You could get into Jail."

"But Kyle," you pleaded, a note of desperation creeping into your voice, "I just want to understand that I need a chance to explain."

Silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words pressing upon them both. Kyle's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and vulnerability.

"Y/N" he murmured, his voice gentle yet laden with uncertainty, "I need some space. I need time to think, to sort through everything. I have to figure things out on my own."

A lump formed in your throat as the weight of his words settled upon you. The reality of the situation washed over you like a cold wave, leaving you feeling adrift and uncertain. Nodding slowly, you whispered, "Kyle- I understand. Take the time you need. Just... promise me you'll come back."

He didn’t even look at you before he responded "Stop" he said, his voice filled with some kind of sadness and disbelief "Just give me a little time."

With those words, a bittersweet ache settled in your heart, as you watched Kyle retreat into the distance, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the hope that, in time, you would find your way back to each other again.

You wished he never found out. But you don’t regret any single thing.

Alejandro

The dusty wind whispered through the corridors of the hidden military base, carrying tension on its ethereal tendrils as Alejandro and you found yourselves embroiled in a heated argument. Snd this only because he went through your phone, for an unknown reason, and he found the photos of the people that got away with Rape. But he didn’t know who they were, so he thought you were hurting innocent people, which you could never do.

"I ONLY HURT PEOPLE WHO HURT PEOPLE" Your voice clashed, words laden with frustration and hurt. The walls trembled with the intensity of the exchange, the air thick with unspoken fears and unmet expectations. Alejandro's piercing gaze met yours, his jaw clenched with a mix of anger and concern. "Mi Amora" he growled, "your job is at the hospital. And now you‘re a serial killer and…"

But defiance burned in your eyes as you stood your ground, your voice trembling with determination. "This is what I do, Alejandro. I protect these people, just like you do. I can't sit idly by while others suffer. It's in my blood. And I will continue protecting these women and children who cry for help!"

Silence settled between you, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Alejandro's shoulders sagged, and his gaze softened, shimmering with unshed tears. "You're right," he conceded, his voice filled with both admiration and fear. "You're brave, stronger than anyone I know. I'm proud of you for fighting for what you believe in, for protecting those who can't protect themselves."

The words hung in the air, bridging the gap between you. Emotion washed over both of you, dissolving the anger and replacing it with a newfound understanding. Alejandro pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms a shield against the uncertainties of your chosen path.

[muffinsin]

Hello muffin tis i, deluded anon with another ask. Tw for ablism i think? I am autistic and get called slurs and mocked for it by my family n friends, such as the r word n whatnot. If theres any issues that cause me stress like putting the cutlery away- they are too loud and hurt my head. Or if my clothes and everything touching me burns n pricks me, being mute on occasions i get told to get a grip n to shut up- then told off later if i was in public. They treat other autistic people differently from me n reassure them that its ok n valid but its not ok for me to be like that. Anyways i dont really do people and am attached to my teddies n plushies- they have feelings. I always take the most care with them n i dont want them to be uncomfortable, they all call me delusional and a not right for loving my plushies (and fictional women)more than them.

So what would happen if the reader were to be autistic and a maid in the castle struggling with some certain tasks and the rest of the maids treating the reader like how ive been treated (if that makes sense. Idk if i’m making sense) so readers kind of like the laughing stock for them, unbeknownst to the sisters until some maid rips a teddy or comfort item.

How would the sisters react to this? I dont think theyd like it nor tolerate it due to cassandra being autistic and daniela having adhd.

I’m sorry this is such a long ask and quite frankly too much of a self centred one. I have no idea if this makes sense- i apologies sincerely if this makes you uncomfortable in any way. Please dont feel pressured to write this.

I can 100% see the rendition of lion king being played out with dani 😂 she would without a doubt try n blag her mother into making her sister make up for being mean to her, like forfeiting a maid to her.



Of course! I’m very curious about this ask tbh and hope I’ll do it justice :)

A few things first up under the cut, if anybody wants to skip to the start of the HCs, it’ll be marked for you😊

TW: ableism, bullying

Let’s get into this! :)

Masterlists

Tbh I’m hoping I’ll be able to get this right! I’m not autistic myself and am only going off what I’ve read here and experiences I’ve been told about by friends.

First thing I want to say hon, is that you are absolutely, 100% valid.

Nobody- and this includes you- deserves to be called slurs or treated wrongly for such reasons. There is no justification to it at all. To treat you differently while claiming to be accepting with others is awful, and I sincerely hope you will find people decent and good enough to accept you, friends especially :)

Also- plushie superiority honestly XP What are their names?👀 Have you got a fav? Or is it an I-love-them-all-equally- situation? Honestly, regarding what you’ve said about plushie love not being okay? I call bs on it. I find plushie love is one of the sweetest there is, even when I don’t have that many myself, I greatly treasure the few plushies I still have. Heck yeah XD

Is the autism and ADHD for Cassandra and Daniela canon? Or a HC?👀 I’ve never heard of it

(Lion king drabble mentioned: here)

Aight that’s it from me! This all probably made little sense, because ironically I cannot comfort at all, I suck at it in most cases, but I hope I still got the key points across somehow XD

Let’s get into it!

(Beginning of the ask)

Bela

She adores you, with all her heart

Bela loves you so much, each part of you

She tries her best to make life as comfortable as possible for you

Even if she can’t always relate to your struggles, she always attempts to ease them

The moment you open up about some of the things troubling you, Bela takes action

She takes special care to ensure the new uniforms are made of fabrics you approve and feel comfortable in, and orders them as soon as possible

Until their arrival, Bela has taken it upon herself to declare to everyone that you are not obliged to wear the old ones

Nobody dares to call you out for working in a shirt instead of the uniform, the order comes from Bela, after all, one of the highest of your superiors, right after Alcina

When the new uniforms are delivered, you can’t help but smile. They’re perfect!

Bela has the old ones disposed of, thrown someplace she can’t be bothered to know

Next, there are the tasks appointed to you

While she normally doesn’t get involved all that much in the staff’s business and shares a mutual respect with the grand chambermaid, she does interfere here

She requests that you are not given tasks in the kitchen as to not get overwhelmed by the loud noises

Nor does she wish for you to work anywhere near the basements

Of course, your lover would never allow you anywhere in the basements, even outside of work, even when she is lurking down there

It’s for safety purposes, most of all

Instead, you are usually appointed calmer places, such as the library or even the castle gardens or greenhouse at times

Bela is flustered whenever you remember to bring her a flower from the outside in winter

Aside from all these things, Bela is your shoulder to cry on, and your pillar to lean on

She never fails to reassure you how much she loves you, and how things you consider as flaws are endearing to her

She knows, sometimes you tend to be quiet, if not entirely mute

After a quick check in whether you’re all right, and you reassure her, she smiles widely

Bela treasures such silence, really

She enjoys to spend time with you, and sometimes silence is just what she needs

After all, the castle can be loud already, especially to her

Wrestling her screaming, kicking and bickering younger sisters all day and night often gives her a migraine

She loves simply cuddling in bed or sitting together, reading together or simply relaxing

Bela doesn’t mind your quietness, and she can easily either make conversation by monologing, or bask in it, even go as far as to close her eyes

She finds these moments precious

She knows nearly everything about you- all except one thing

Life among the staff

Bela doesn’t know of the torment you face, not quite

She doesn’t notice your anxiety when they make fun of you, doesn’t know about how uncomfortable you become when they poke you for fun

She doesn’t know an old uniform has been retrieved from the storage and switched with yours specifically merely to amuse the other staff members

You grit your teeth at the wrong fabric on you, the uncomfortable one that feels entirely too heavy and scratchy

No matter how much you search for the new uniform, it’s hidden far away beyond your grasp

Only when all your duties are done can your change out of it and back into your normal clothing, just in time for Bela to finish work and greet you with a warm smile

You don’t dare tell her, too worried what the other maids will do

After all, Bela can’t dispose of them all

Then there’s the noises…

How often you are brought to the edge of feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed when maids laugh and mock you, forks and knives in their hands as they slap them together

Like sticks hitting a drum, maybe

You are not oblivious to their laughter as you bury your head in your brown teddy bear and fluffy, blue arm sized blanket

Soon, you are indirectly appointed to the kitchens

Not by the grand chambermaid, nor by Bela

You feel uncomfortable at the hands grabbing you by the arms and leading you there

Their reasoning? If you don’t clean up, maidens will be hurt, and it will be your fault

Aside from this, with more hurt maidens and their panic increasing, so will the stress your girlfriend will have to face over trying to manage the castle

They know of your love for Bela, and often use it to have you do things you dislike

Such as picking up all the silverware from the wet sink, drying it in a towel of a texture you dislike, and putting them in the drawers

Their laughter and mockery rings out behind you while you’re made to finish their work

Still, as torturous as all of this is, their newest stunt is incomparable to it

As you find yourself hugging your stuffed bear yet again and cry into its fur at the loud laughter around you, you suddenly feel it tugged from you

Naturally, you try to hold on

Slurs are thrown at you. Mockery

You hear a particular loud cry, a maid calling you a baby, just before you’re suddenly sent back on the bed

You’re holding your teddy- as is the maid tugging it

Tears well up in your eyes as you hold its body, your eyes scanning the unattached leg now dropped to the floor

You feel someone snap their fingers right next to your ear and jump

More laughter

The women around you laugh and mock as you sink to the floor, your teddy and blanket held tight to you as you attempt to grasp the leg

It’s kicked in the corner of the room, and more laughter rings out when you crawl after it quickly

More harsh name calling, until eventually you grasp it

Unsurprisingly, you can’t just push it back on

You aren’t sure how much time passes until your girlfriend finds you

You aren’t even sure when you wandered off to Bela’s room. It’s as if your feet just automatically carried you to your safe place

She immediately swarms to you, her hands hovering by your arms

With a nod of your head, reassuring her it’s okay, she touches you

She immediately feels the change of fabric of your uniform. She knows, this isn’t the right one

Still, golden eyes set on the damaged teddy bear in your hands

Again, she waits for your permission before she pulls you on her lap, knowing you’re so distraught now

She grasps your hands and dries your tears, and gently holds the leg one one hand, the remaining teddy in her other

“He’s broken”, you sob, and Bela is quick to assure you

“Damaged, my dove, not broken”

She promises, she can fix your friend

And true to her word, she does

Urging you to change, she allows you to search her closet for anything that suits you

You watch with wide, hopeful eyes as she takes a sewing kid from one of her many shelves

Thankfully, your beautiful girlfriend enjoys branching out and learning so many new skills…

You watch with wonder as she adds stuffing back into the leg, and even allows you to pick a color to stitch it back together in

Dressed comfortably in her larger clothing and holding onto her pillows and your blue blanket, you watch as slowly, but surely, your friend’s leg is reattached

“He’s on bed rest now, you know”, she teases, hoping to bring a smile to your face

Bela portrays this picture of calmness for you, but rest assured, the moment she knows you’re completely calm and happy again, she will personally see to it that such actions are punished

She demands to know what has been going on with the staff, and offers you your own room, should you not want to move into hers

Bela smiles in self satisfaction as she hand picks the new recruits for cadou experiments, hunts, and, of course, Cassandra’s birthday presents ;)

Cassandra

She cares a lot about you, and is incredibly protective of you

Cassandra tries her best to make you comfortable

She knows, her fast, often dangerous and hectic movements can intimidate or scare away most. She doesn’t want that to happen with you

While Cassandra isn’t the best at listening, she takes in all you say whenever you are made uncomfortable by something

Such as the clanging of her weapons when she carelessly drops them all on a big pile

Her heart breaks a little when you cover your ears at the loud noise caused by metal hitting metal

Was she a dog, her ears would droop down

Instead, she immediately apologizes and tries to still the rocking blades

She makes sure not to clank them against one another again, instead is careful to place them down one by one

She grins widely whenever this earns her a kiss and a smile of yours

Her efforts are certainly not dismissed and ignored!

Then, there’s of course your like and dislike towards certain sensations

She can’t help but giggle when you fall into her bed the first time you touch it

She has all the perfect fabrics!

Cassandra is very picky as it comes to them, too

Her dress is tight, but soft

It doesn’t scratch along her skin and isn’t too soft to make her feel droopy. It’s just perfect to her

Her bed equals this

Soft, satin sheets she likes, and a few large pillows. Not too much, just enough for her to sleep comfortably

You love wearing her clothing. It’s perfect and doesn’t irritate your skin

In return, Cassandra doesn’t mind lending it to you, even if you don’t quite fit into it

All her clothing is custom made, such as Alcina’s dresses and the typical black dresses all three sisters like to wear

The crafter? None other than the famous other Lady of the village

Cassandra makes it a point to ask Donna for clothing made in your size. In return, she is ready to send across a few of the castle’s finest cooking ingredients

It’s working out well, and often she likes to surprise you with a new clothing item of your choice, made of a fabric of your choice

Cassandra doesn’t care for fabrics, merely the feel of them

She allows you to take charge whenever it comes to picking the right ones out

In the beginning, you worry Cassandra will mind your occasional silence

You’re all too happy to notice: she doesn’t

Cassandra talks often, but isn’t quite one for conversation

She likes monologuing, knowing you’re listening to her as she rants about her hunts and her sisters

She doesn’t take your silence as disrespect, though at times randomly reminds herself to check in whether you’d like her to keep talking or stay silent as well for some peace and quiet

She likes to bask in such silence sometimes, to have her head on your lap and play with a few of her flies while you stroke her soft hair

Another thing she’s surprised you by is regarding your stuffed animals

While she hasn’t quite got the connection to them you have, she respects it

Though, she will not allow all of them in her bed. She wants that space all to herself

Still, she is mindful to keep a corner of the bed empty for your stuffed animals, and only growls playfully when you shower them in love, subtly reminding you to place a kiss to her forehead, too

She can’t help but be a little clingy sometimes, after all

Cassandra doesn’t fault you for preferring plushies to humans. She isn’t exactly a fan of them either and rather sees them as nuisances or means to an end, after all

All except you. You’re her precious little human

And Cassandra wants to keep you safe at all times

Yet, there are things even she cannot seem to keep you safe from

Such as the staff members

You know, Cassandra doesn’t get involved with the maiden’s affairs unless to drag one to the basement

She is therefore unaware of the pokes and laughter that follow you sometimes

The slurs whispered your way… you know Cassandra would have their heads for it, yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to tell her

And they know it all too well

Your heart hurts when they talk to you, and in time, you know the only reason for this are dares

Dares, from one maid to another, to talk to you

Entertainment, as they chat and mock you subtly, trying to see how long it takes you to notice

You try to brush it off. To not let it bother you

Cassandra surely wouldn’t let it bother her! She seems so powerful…

Their words regarding this sting. How she could be with someone like you

When you’re allowing them to walk all over you

Some freak, as they say

Their words haunt you hours later even, when your shifts end and you’re cuddled up against Cassandra as she monologues about this and that while showing you her newest dagger

Then, there’s the little stuffed turtle you like to keep in your pocket

It helps you stay calm sometimes, even with the uniform being scratchy and uncomfortable

Often they laugh as they snatch your turtle from you, instead throw her through the air, right above your outstretched hands as you attempt to catch your precious friend

All other stuffed animals are kept safe in Cassandra’s room. All but this one

No one would dare venture into her territory merely to taunt you

No maid is this foolish

You gasp when the turtle is thrown yet again, high in the air in the main hall, right above your hands even as you jump to reach it

Your eyes widen when your precious stuffed animal lands right in the fireplace

Thankfully, not a lit one. It’s summer, thankfully, and the castle is warm enough as it is

But it’s hot, and dirty, and smears black dust and ashes all over the green fur

“Freak”, they taunt as they pass you, crying and attempting to wipe the dirt off

Cassandra finds you easily, having heard your fast heartbeat indicating your panic attack even from the basement

You can merely look up at her as she kneels down, her gloves easily pulled down by her teeth as she holds the little turtle

She’s very careful no blood is smeared on it or you, and opts for staying a little distant upon realising she’s covered in it nearly from head to toe

You don’t seem to mind, you can only look at the turtle, impossibly small in Cassandra’s large hands as strong fingers rub over the dirt gently

A stain remains, and you smile watery. A battle wound, maybe?

The thought comforts you only slightly

You suppose, a scar, a battle wound, wouldn’t be the worst thing…Cassandra has them, after all, scars littering her backside from challenging fights

She won, in the end

Upon demanding what happened, and hearing your tale, Cassandra sees red

She wipes the back of her hand against her lips to clean her bloodied lips, then presses a small kiss to your forehead before she swarms off

In the days to come, plenty examples are maid

Maidens are set free only to be dragged back screaming and badly hurt, begging for forgiveness as they are killed in front of the others

Others are immediately dragged to the basement

And the remaining two that have started it all, are devoured alive in front of the rest of the staff, Cassandra’s warning screamed from their lips

Never, never, will she allow someone to mistreat you again

She keeps a close eye on you, and often opts for having a few flies buzzing around you when you aren’t with her

Daniela

Daniela is a hyper little thing, full of energy and love that she wants to shower you in

She’s very clingy with you, but also incredibly perceptive

More so than her other two sisters, even

She picks up on your slight grimace when it’s dinner time and the rattling of silverware irritates your ears

Without having to tell her, Daniela is more delicate in her movements with her fork and knife- she was the main source of this noise after all, smacking them together because she is generally too energetic to sit still

Instead, she merely swarms around excitedly and annoys her sisters until the food is served

She also notices- you don’t like every clothing item she has to offer

Some just- don’t take your pick, and at first she is a little hurt

She doesn’t understand why, and worries you might think she has horrible taste

Or perhaps don’t want to wear a gift of hers altogether

Daniela tends to overthink fast, and quickly becomes a little hesitant to shower you in gifts when you don’t seem too happy with the two dresses she’s brought you

While she is all for comfort, Daniela doesn’t mind scratchiness of her gowns

Being put in so many of them for balls and events hosted by Alcina, she has learned to ignore the urge to scratch and the annoying itch caused by scratchy sleeves

Overall, she still loves gowns, and isn’t bothered by differences in textures

When you explain to her that you feel differently about this, it’s a little difficult for her to understand

However, Daniela cares about you, and if you tell her this fabric is bad fabric, she’ll tear it to pieces for you, as though you’re her fair maiden and she is the knight protecting you from the fierce dragon!

She often makes slashing noises as she does though, a little too invested in her fantasies

You don’t mind

You think her creativity and fantasy endearing, even

Daniela is curious, though. Often she will randomly swarm to you to ask whether something is good or bad, just out of curiosity, and maybe because she’s turned it into a game

She wants to see if she is getting better at telling what is good and what isn’t, so her surprises and gifts for you are ones you can actually enjoy

She brings you fabrics of gowns and shirts, food and drinks, and even once a very grumpy Bela to question whether her sister feels bad too

She claims she does, with a large, shit eating grin on her face, and you smile as her laughter is heard through the halls when she is chased down for such behaviour, likely made to sit and listen to another lecture of the blonde should she be caught

You find, you look forward to hearing Daniela complain about it

While Daniela can be very loud and hyper at times, and often enough you join in, she doesn’t mind times you’re quiet either

She had no trouble at all leading a conversation, either monologuing or talking for so long and so fast, there’s no way for anybody else to join in anyway

Often, when she notices you’re in a quieter mood, she’ll take control of the conversation until the other person leaves

In return, she only expects a smile, and a kiss to her face

Yet, as much as Daniela dotes on you and coddles you, there are others who are not as sweet

Others, who do not make you feel as welcome

Others, who dare make you feel as though you aren’t normal. Not “right”

The maidens at Castle Dimitrescu can be ruthless, sometimes, especially to outsiders

Being Daniela’s partner has made you an outsider

And having autism has made you their target

They thread carefully at first, knowing you are not only under Daniela’s protection, but by this also under Bela and Cassandra’s

Should they hurt you, it hurts Daniela, after all. Alas, you have three murderous fly women on your side

However…what they don’t know…

It starts off with a group of four who take, seemingly, immense pleasure in taunting you

Their hatred comes from being small minded, and jealous, yet knowing this does nothing to help you

They don’t understand- how come you get to wear a different uniform than them?!

How come you never have to clean up the table and wash the dishes and silverware?

How come you get to work in quiet, reserved locations and get to take so many breaks, while they are to work near the entrance to the dungeons, the screams of their fellow fallen maids taunting them

How come they fear for their life, and you never need to?

You are a target by far too soon

You often find yourself crying and hiding at your bed as they laugh and bicker about, silently wishing Daniela opts for a random visit and slays them all

She doesn’t, and won’t. She isn’t allowed into the maid quarters

Their shrill laughter and loud voices hurt your ears, and as you find yourself clutching one of the stuffed animals not tucked away in Daniela’s room- a grey, knit bear- they laugh even more

Soon, you are titled as a baby and inhuman for your affection towards the stuffed animal

You feel fear shoot through you whenever you don’t find him sitting at your pillow

Often, they wave the teddy in front of you, snickering and commanding this and that

They’re playing God, and for moments you feel as though they are the predators of this castle

With the wish to receive your stuffed animal again, you clean their beds and bring their plates, silverware and cups to the kitchens after supper

Usually, you receive your bear again

Not yet this time, it seems

“Go and get it, if you dare” they snicker as they throw it down the stairs to the basement

You gulp. You know, you aren’t supposed to go down there

No maid is, but especially you

Even Daniela has forbidden you from stepping in the cellars

You shudder at the memory of her truthful description upon being asked what lies down there. Monsters with swords and sickles, mold and blood, pain and the reek of the dead, corpses and torture chambers

But…your bear

You venture down as they snicker, and jump when the door clasps shut behind you

As tears sprint to your eyes, you hear a lock. No going back now, either way

You gulp at the loud whimpers and cries, and the distant screams and groans of the undead

It’s dark, and you can barely make a thing out

You jump when you hear a loud gasp from one of the cells and a hand reaches through the bars, as though to reach you

Immediately, you keep on running

More hands shoot out, some grazing your arm and dirtying your uniform, others mere inches away from your skin

You nearly trip a few times, the floor stony and littered with buckets, thrown over tables and chairs, dull knives and what not

It’s so dark, so that you can barely make out your own hands and the ones reaching for you

You shriek as a body bag drops in front of you, immediately taking off to run another direction

Again, you scream, when you run into something

A monster?! It’s so dark you-

“Uh-“

You blink at Cassandra’s voice, and upon opening your eyes, you find golden ones staring down at you

She seems almost unsure. You aren’t supposed to be in the basements, and were you anybody else, she would have already dug her sickle into you and called you a foolish prey for running right to her

But…you’re Daniela’s

You jump at a second gasp, and whine when another pair of golden eyes sets on you

Thankfully, these do not belong to Bela Dimitrescu. You recognize the light green colour shining through gold in them

Daniela!

She gasps when you run into her, quickly adjusting her hand so you don’t run right into the scalpel you can’t see in the dark

Immediately, her shock is covered by concern when she smells the fear surrounding you

She demands to know what you’re doing her, even if she feels flustered upon thinking you might have missed her and wanted to see her bad enough to venture into the cellars

Upon opening up about the bear, you feel her grasp your hand tightly

She promises, she’s going to find it with you

You nod shakily as Cassandra grins, having just received a reason to go upstairs and cause some more trouble along the maidens

With a lit torch held tightly in Daniela’s hand, it’s by far easier to navigate the dim basement

You realise the hands reaching out were maids, now backed far in the corner of their cells to avoid Daniela’s gaze

But the redhead doesn’t mind them. She is focused on finding your bear

And find him she does, after a while of searching

You nearly whimper when she holds it up between two fingers, the fabric soaked in blood and dirt and a rat having already started to eat away at its side

She hugs you tightly as she explains, it must be disposed of

It’s a major health risk by now, having been exposed to the mold of the basement and who knows what else

You spend the next couple of days entirely in her bed, cuddled up under the covers and crying your heart out between your other stuffed animals

At last, Daniela enters, a nervous smile on her face

You notice her hand behind her back, and lift your head curiously

“So, I know it’s not the same, but I told Bela what happened and asked her to fix it…”, she trails off

You can’t help but smile and cry as she pulls her hand to the front, a bear, knit nearly perfectly and in the exact same colour as yours, sitting in her palm

“She’s actually really good at this stuff. I made her make me an octopus. I named her Sally”