#this one was weird because I had the idea really vividly

[hyperionwitch-art]

Did you think I was done posting art today?? Let's officially ring in 2024 with the Terrible Kids! This time in Ald Ruhn, enjoying some delicious sauced meat on flatbread.

Tev/Dren Masterpost

[thedrotter]

Do any of you remember a Youtube video about Re:Kinder talking about how the game is seen and percieved by some people (mostly touching upon and arguing against how it has been treated insensitively as some sort of weird legend like "ooo disturbing game with a hidden truth behind it" due to it's creator being dead), as well as talking about the charm of the game (even mentioning it's art at some point) and sadness of the themes without spoiling anything at the same time?? I remember the video avoided saying any spoilers at all and only touched on the literal plot as the kids being stuck in a dire situation in the town with all the adults dead without really getting into the why (it didn't even say one of the kids themselves was the cause— as thus, spoiler free), other than that it just touched on the emotional side of it and vaguely mentioned some scenes.

i also remember at some point the later half (at the very least if not in all of it) of the video, music by Siinamota was playing in the background. Does anyone remember seeing a video like this?

I can't seem to find it anywhere and don't even remember the exact year I watched it.😭 It was the way I found out about this game a while ago, which eventually ended up in me playing it, and I really wish I could watch it again. I thought it was a deleted video by someone called hazel as it was mentioned by a lot of people, but I found that one and it isnt it.😓 I'm wondering if anyone remembers watching something along the lines of what im describing and knows if it's still up.

[lakesbian]

should comment on the first (<- optimistically hoping there will be more) lamb interludes too

i like ashton so far i think it's fun to add another more Noticeably Alien Freak lamb. kindof autistic to be a fucked up biohorror lab experiment that doesn't know how to imitate people yet and consequently has no volume control & errs on the side of speaking too softly instead when you think about it.

the effect of him constantly vividly imagining peoples heads exploding for fun may be somewhat lost on me because i'm like well he's not hurting anyone so good for him.

the nonhuman visual perception was fun to read about i liked that

it has sadly occurred to me while writing this that the next time we see him it's gonna be timeskipped so far ahead that he'll be a Normal Boy and i won't get to enjoy the development phase, which seems like it should be the appeal of adding a new little vat boy to the team

his interlude segment portrays jamie 2 as a bit of an older sister. this is a win for me.

helen thoughts:

best interlude so far hands down because helen is special. one of the best Scenes At All Ever so far hands down because helen is special. it is so EXTREMELY effective to show her away from the lambs for the first time and have her casually remind that the personality she's been displaying for most of the book is an entirely calculated act for the lambs' benefit, and even the glimpses beneath it they've been getting had a heavy dosage of acting involved in the presentation. utter fucking Crocodile of a girl. it's so good

it's also extremely fucking funny for helen to be told to stop acting and respond by standing up and going "i want to gore that guy over there. Sexually."

specifically a big fan of how it's explicitly belabored that she stands up during the interrogation because she's no longer acting. like, the idea that even the most basic level of expected human behavior that would seem common sense exists only because of an act, and immediately ceases if the act does, replaced entirely by some reptilian Thing who stands up and states desire to crawl murderously into someone's mouth--that's really fucking good. and then the act goes back up and helen the Thing remains lying there underneath.

not directly from the interlude but i thought it was cute when sy explained to her that she was possibly feeling loneliness. if i was mary i would treat helen right...reptilegirls need hugs too...i would let her cuddle with me at night like a weird cat...

gordon:

i like him but he's very simple and overshadowed compared to more special individuals like helen. i'm sorry gordon

i do think it's SO fucking funny that he unironically mentally gets worried and compares him thinking mary is hot to helen talking about wanting to crawl into peoples skin and shit. teenager experiencing normal levels of teenager feelings and being like oh NO im some sort of weird intense freak pervert of the earth. like no man youre just a teenager youre gonna be okay buddy. well, you're not going to be okay, but that's for reasons unrelated to being attracted to women. that part is normal and fine.

it's nice to have confirmation that gordon is mind beaming "holy shit please shut the fuck up" at sy just as often as sy is mind beaming it at him. not that we needed it to know, given that sy receives the mind beams 95% of the time minimum (and elects to ignore them almost as often)

i like the bit abt him being a segmented stitched-together person made from composite parts & his feelings also being sort of metaphorically processed as composite parts he can pick and choose from to engage with. griffon boy...

we should kill the duke

we should kill the baron

we should kill the duke and the baron

mary: unfortunately theres not so much to say about this one because she spent 65% of it vividly imagining how she could murder people. love you mary

lillian:

it was fun to see how sy looks from someone else's perspective and then find out what the fuck he was actually doing next chapter. and like just in general fun and convincing to see how she reads him without being privy to the one million insane things he's thinking at any given second

i have to confess i was bad at actually thinking a lot about lillian during this one. one of my main thoughts was "oh good we finally have more detailed description of how sy looks." wildbow novels are cool because you have to wait until one fucktillion words in to find out that a character has long eyelashes. adding that to my list of mental notes for drawing sy

detailed descriptions of how sy kisses lillian (extremely real and true and in character for him by the way you know he was doing a death note monologue in his head about his methodology) made me remember that im going to have to read the lesbian sex scene that fails the bechdel test at some point because mary tries to imitate it and then i went 🙁and had to try to stop thinking about that.

[harrysmmm]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 - 𝐝.𝐦

Draco Malfoy x Y/N Potter (f!reader)

Summary: where Y/N is missing and neither her boyfriend Draco nor her brother Harry know where she is.

Setting: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part 2 movie)

A/N: Who would've thought it would be the world of wizards who would make me want to write again? Anyways, I am currently rewatching the Harry Potter saga (I have the two last movies left) and might've started developing a crush on Draco... weird cause it's been more than 10 years since I've watched the movies all over again and never really felt it before. Anyways, hope you enjoy and please do tell me if you want more draco x y/n potter imagines (who knows, it could become a series... I leave it up to you). love ya and it feels good to be back xxx

Notes: This imagine was FULLY inspired by an edit I bumped into on Youtube. It is basically a remake of that edit on a piece of writing, with some development of course. I leave you the link cause I think it can make you visualize the imagine better. Also, full credit to the editor of that video for the idea and some lines.

W/C: 640

masterlist here

“What brings you here, Potter?” Draco was pointing his wand to Harry in the Room of Requirements.

“I’m looking for my sister” Harry replies with no intention to pick up his wand. “You must know where she is”.

“How would I know where your filthy sister is?” he blurted out, still some hesitation was seen in his look.

“Because she would’ve never left without you.”

Ron and Hermione stood behind Harry and although not fully knowing the meaning behind his words, the latter understood right away. She tried to stop it from getting too far knowing there was a war about to begin outside of those walls.

“Harry, this is not the time—"

“It is the time,” Harry cut her off without taking his gaze off Draco. “Where is she, Malfoy? Did she tell you where she went?”

Draco was not speaking, still pointing his wand at Harry.

“Tell me!” Harry shouted.

Hermione looked rather uncomfortable, holding some tears from falling.

Draco finally spoke with a trembling voice:

“How do—”

“How do I know? How do I know that you’ve been snugging my sister? That’s beside the point, isn’t it?” He took a step closer towards Draco.

Draco took a step back and snickered:

“Well, if I’ve just been snugging her, I guess there’s no point for me to know where she is, is it?”

Harry lost his temper.

“She’s gone, Draco! She left!”

Draco softened his face and started to breathe heavily.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s not in the castle, no one has seen her in days.”

Draco kept being confused, his wand aimlessly directed towards Harry at this point.

“She is supposed to be with Ginny and the others. She got here days ago,” Draco finally replied vividly remembering his last conversation with Y/N.

“Ginny said she never came with them,” Ron added.

“What do you mean, Weasley?” Draco asked with disgust in his voice.

“Apparently the last person who talked to her was you,” Harry had softened his expression. “What do you know, Draco?”

Draco had to put himself together to not start crying. His wand kept being pointed at Harry.

“She told me she was going with Ginny and the others! She told me we would meet here and leave together!” A tear came down his face. “I guess she carries well the Potter blood after all, too coward to even wait for her boyfriend to go.” His voice turned into anger and his wand was more firmly lifted.

“Guys,” Hermione breakingly whispered.

Harry turned his head at her.

“What?”

“Haven’t you heard?” she was paralyzed while she spoke, slowly breaking down into crying.

Ron looked at her and Draco moved his wand towards her direction.

“Heard what?” Harry fully turned around facing her.

Hermione was staring at the ground, tears falling down her face.

“Just say it, Granger!” Draco shouted.

Hermione took a few seconds to pull herself together.

“Y/N died.”

No sound was made.

“Wh-what?” Draco whispered.

Harry’s face was a lifeless frame.

“She didn’t make it on the way. I don’t know who killed her or what happened,” she replied, her shaking voice filling the hurtful silence. “I’m sorry.”

After a few seconds of no one moving, Harry started running, calling Y/N with the hope of hearing her answer back. Hermione and Ron followed him.

Draco stood up by himself, his wand still pointing straight forward, although the enemy had no longer something to do with what was outside. He eventually broke down into tears. There was no point for him to fight anymore; there was no point for him to live anymore. He promised to her they would leave together, away from Hogwarts, away from her cursed past, away from his parents, away from magic.

When she left, she took everything of him with her.

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

Thank you for reading :)

With all my love,

M

[2deadkat]

If you've read them, thoughts on the Geronimo Stilton Kingdom of Fantasy books?

Okay I have a bit of a weird but fond history with that series, I’ve only seen the first two books so I’m not all that qualified to talk about it in-depth.

But I’ll tell you my history first, I used to carry the first kingdom of fantasy book everywhere I went on family trips. I treated that thing like the holy grail and just speed through every page imaginable, I’ll tell you this I really like the presentation of the series.

Especially with its own script and all the doors to the different kingdoms. That’s one thing the franchise in general is good at. Also I had an old friend of an older sibling of mine who used to share that book with me…and I vividly remember her telling me the pages with each world door being scented so while I carried that book everywhere I was practically a book sniffer 💀. To this very day I still don’t know if it’s true each door was scented or if it was merely a childhood lie…

Now my thoughts on it despite only officially “reading” two and skimming through the rest of it with a friend at a bookstore (bestie shout out if you’re reading this ✌️), the whole idea of it is really interesting and it’s fitting for someone like Geronimo. I like the world building of the series, and it’s basically a collection of every fantasy world trope ever in an endearing way. I can’t get over the fact that he enters the world illegally every time by drugging himself on chamomile tea and getting knocked out while his sister of the seven roses just gets actual passes 😭 but power to him for capitalising on his drug trips because I was actually so shocked when I found there were 14 of them…I’m not implying that they’re bad but it’s not just a series for me and I’m just shocked that there’s this many of them, I’d personally stop at three books but I can respect the fact that it has its own lore going on.

Geronimo gets more power and respect as a character but I’ll never get over the fact that there are actual humanoids existing in another plane…also I heard it’s more batshit insane in the untranslated Italian books which is…wow, respect.

I was really obsessed with the dragon king and the whole dragon world and I would keep rereading that section every time <3 I swear I used to read that Beowulf part specifically with all the dragon facts. I was a huge dragon kid back then.

Okay a bit of gross trivia: Going through my old copy of the book, it literally has the sweat stains of kid me’s hand on the exact page of that illustration because I admire his whole design and deal so much…to this very day it is still the coolest dragon design I’ve ever seen.

So overall, it’s really interesting, I like the whole world they’re going for, but it’s not for me to consume as a full series entirely. And even if I do start again with the other books I don’t have the childhood wonder anymore to dive into it like kid me used to…so unfortunately I don’t have the same attachment a bunch of other people might’ve grew up with…

Sorry, guess I’m more interested in a mouse version of the Office…or parks and recreation 😔 but the first book holds dear to me with its immersive world building and recently I just found it lying in one of my family’s house’s many book shelves so I am thankful for that.

Also man I forgot how some of these spreads go hard…

[underratedbitch-number13]

Part 3 : Elpis

A/N: I know that I have been gone for very long and almost abandoned these series. But I have exams going, and yesterday's paper was one of the shittiest ones I've ever written and I was feeling super down. So I came back to finish the angst, lol.

Anyways, I think it's lowkey rushed, but I hope everyone likes it :)

Also It felt so weird writing this chapters because I kept getting new ideas and I wanted to keep writing, but I didn't want to make it tooo long, though it's still pretty lengthy.

Repeating for clarity, MC DID NOT KNOW Mammon at all. She's a complete random stranger who happened to be there.

This part is going to be pretty heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Part 3 : Elpis

(Mammon x F!MC)

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Mammon is almost about to attempt suicide, bullying, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and mental abuse, blood, self harm, nightmares.

A LOT OF ANGST!!!

If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not read. This could be triggering.

Written in Third Person POV. Also, If there are any grammatical errors, please feel free to correct them.

Number of words : 2.5k

|| ☞ Part 1 || ☞ Part 2 || ☞ Part 4(coming end of April 2024) ||

———————————————————————

Simeon woke up with a gasp.

Beads of sweat lined his forehead as he desperately tried to calm his erratic breathing. It was the 6th time in a row.

He had another vision.

Simeon and Luke had temporarily returned to Celestial Realm after Luke fell seriously ill. Luke had almost recovered, but he needed a few more days to heal completely before they returned for the exchange program.

Simeon and Luke weren't aware of anything that had transpired back in Devildom in their absence, because they had left before the video was released.

But since the past few days, Simeon has been seeing terrible visions.

Visions of Mammon's death followed by utter chaos among his brothers, then a war with the human world. He vividly remembers seeing the Sorcerer's Society up in arms against the 6 brothers.

Solomon was there too, fighting against the brothers.

Simeon felt shivers when recalled how brutally Solomon ended Asmodeus's life after using their pact to his advantage. The entire war was a bloody mess with many dead, including Belphegor, Asmodeus, and Leviathan.

His visions never showed him the end of the war, so he never knew who won.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand Simeon decided it was time to talk to Michael. He needed to inform him about the visions and apologize for not telling sooner.

Getting out of his bed, Simeon got ready to visit Michael.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Michael appeared perplexed when Simeon told him about his visions.

Visions were not a part of Simeon's powers. Now he was seeing a recurring vision, that too one about a war between humans and demons?

Michael sent Simeon back after reassuring him that he'd get in touch with him about this matter soon. Unsatisfied with Michael's answer Simeon reluctantly headed back to his place.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't shake it off.

He cared about Solomon and the brothers, and he had grown very attached to them. These visions were like nightmares to him, and he felt helpless. He really wanted to do something to prevent all of this.

The thing that perplexed him the most was Mammon's death.

He did not know the cause of his death, he only knew that his body was found in the human realm with his heart ripped out.

Seeing his brother's body in that condition had incurred Lucifer's wrath, equivalent to what he had seen during the war before his fall.

The brothers had concluded that humans were somehow responsible for Mammon's death and bathed the human world in blood. Simeon's head hurt just thinking about it.

"Father," he prayed. "Please protect everyone."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

Barbatos and Diavolo had known. 

They were aware of the tragedy that was about to occur, after all, Barbatos had already checked every timeline.

Unfortunately, all of them only had one outcome, Mammon's death.

Diavolo was devastated upon learning this. He had failed! He failed as the future King! How could he not protect his subject, his dear friend Mammon?

Barbatos himself felt a little lost, his stoic persona wavered as remembered what he what he saw. Although he never openly showed his affection for Mammon, he cared. He cared more than anyone would believe.

It was hard for either of them to digest the fact

The panic slowly started to set in.

Diavolo insisted on talking to Mammon immediately, but he was stopped by Barbatos, who informed him of how every effort made by them in other timelines had done more damage than help.

In one timeline, when they tried talking to Mammon about his mental health, he denied everything. He laughed it off and replied with a "Nobody can hurt the Great Mammon!"

In other timelines, if they punished the students for bullying him, they would isolate themselves even further from him and would call him a snitch or a baby. And if they tried to stop Asmodeus from releasing the video by going to the past, another video of Mammon would always surface.

In the end, they couldn't change the future.

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

The winds picked up as Barbatos chanted mantras to invoke his most powerful magic.

Diavolo stood not far away, looking at the figure at a distance with a grave look on his face, his demon form emerging as Mammon stepped closer to the edge.

The Prince of Hell had never imagined that a day like this would ever come. The guilt in his heart was immeasurable knowing he had failed his dear subject, and he had almost been too late to realize that.

Now they had no option but to do this. Barbatos was going to freeze the time on Earth for a couple of hours until the full moon ended and then erase his memories from the past few months.

The next moon full as powerful as this one was three months away and that should give them more time to do something.

His eyes turned to Barbatos on his left as he stood in a trance-like state with his eyes closed, a dark aura emitting from him. He was almost done with the process.

"δεθιλΠγπξΨυΣἀἧΪΏ"

Barbatos began chanting louder, and his eyes slowly started opening to release his powers.

Diavolo turned his attention back to Mammon to check on him, and his eyes widened at what he saw. “Barbatos stop!” He yelled and grabbed the butler’s arm to break his concentration.

Barbatos fell on his knees, eyes opened wide and bloodshot, tears pouring out of them. "My Lord," Barbatos gasped, completely out of breath. "Why?"

Diavolo winced at Barbatos' state."Barbatos, I apologize. But we don't need to intervene anymore. He already has."

———————————————————————

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

Silver butterflies.

They were a sign of God’s presence.

Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer were the only demons who knew about those butterflies. They are usually seen when someone about to die is about to ascend to heaven OR it means that God was around.

Mammon, who was surrounded, couldn’t see the silver butterflies dancing around him.

They formed a line that was going in a particular direction. Almost like it was linking Mammon with something.

Or someone.

A human girl?

Diavolo and Barbatos watched from a distance, as the girl approached the bridge. She too was surrounded by the silver butterflies.

And she could see them.

There was awe on her face as she stared at those beautiful miracles fluttering around her. The bright full moon, the silver butterflies, and the gentle cool winds made the scene look magical.

Diavolo and Barbatos watched as the girl followed the butterflies giggling, not noticing Mammon.

Until she did. Her eyes fell on Mammon's figure, still in his human form, standing on the ledge with a painfully serene look on his face. The silver butterflies long forgotten, she ran towards Mammon with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

"No," she gasped, grabbing Mammon and pulling him down. “Please, please don’t do it.”

"What da hell?" Mammon cursed. "Who are ya?"

The human who was smiling and giggling just a few moments ago now had heavy tears flowing down her face.

"Please don't do this."

"What is it to ya?" Mammon yanked his hand out of the human's hands.

"It's not worth it, please. Don't do it," she repeated.

Mammon sighed irritatedly. "Look human, ya should go back. Ya don't know me and it's not yer place to tell me what to do."

"Please, it will hurt your loved ones--"

"I DON'T HAVE LOVED ONES." Mammon roared. "I am a scumbag, I don't deserve to live or be loved."

"That's not true!"

"What do ya know?!"

"Yes, I don't anything!! But what I do know is that nothing in this world is worth more than your life. It doesn't matter who loves whom. It's never going to be worth more than you!"

Mammon stayed silent.

"Why should you die for their sins? Why should you suffer because they aren't good people? I'm sorry you had to go through whatever you did, I'm sorry you don't think you deserve to be loved, and I'm really sorry that you find solace in the idea of dying. But please please please for the love of God, please don't do this"

Mammon wanted to scoff at the human. For the love of God? His father whom he betrayed for his wretched brother who has abandoned him now?

Karma, it's probably Karma, Mammon thinks.

He didn't want to listen to the human in front of him, after all, she was speaking the truth. He shouldn't have to suffer for his brothers.

But he was tired. Mammon didn't feel like he had enough strength to be strong another day. He had forgotten how to love himself, and without love, he knew he would shrivel.

Death was really the only option left.

Mammon realized that he shouldn't waste his time any further talking to this human. She was too nice for him and it's pretty late for a human girl to be out anyways.

"Look, I get what ya tryin' to say-"

"No," she stopped him from speaking, taking hold of his arm again. " I am not going to let you do it. You better be prepared to kill me if you want me to let go of you."

"Have ya lost yer mind?" Mammon looked at her with disbelief.

"No, I have not. But I will lose my mind because of guilt if I ignore this and let you do it."

Why? Why was this human going so far for him? Pity? Guilt?

"I will be there for you. We can be friends."

Mammon scoffed. What an arrogant human.

"Yer as stupid as ya look. Ya think I won't kill ya? And what makes ya think yer sob speech is enough to not make me jump? Ya only wanna be ma friend outta pity and I don't want any of that. Ya don't havta feel guilty or anythin. The world is not yer child an yer not responsible for it. Go home."

Mammon forced himself out of the human's grip and stood up. He looked at her, as she stared blankly at the ground.

He felt bad for being rude to her, but he had no choice. Mammon didn't like pity. After giving her one last look and climbed the edge again. He was about to switch to his demon form when a thought crossed his mind

Won't the human get terrified if she sees his demon form? What if she has nightmares?

"Give me one minute," she spoke interrupting Mammon's train of thoughts. She whipped out her phone and began typing furiously.

Is she calling for help? Will I have to deal with more annoying humans?

"Done," she declared and tossed her phone to the side of the bridge. It landed sideways and you could hear it crack.

What the--?

"Can you move a little and make some space for me? " She asked Mammon, coming over to where he was standing.

Mammon stood on a small ledge at the end of the bridge. It was the darkest corner and that's why he chose it. Although it was small, it could still hold two people.

"What are ya doing?" Mammon questioned, as the human struggled to get on the ledge.

"Joining you."

"What? Why? Human, have ya seriously lost yer mind?"

"No."

"Then what hell is yer problem ?! Why can't ya just leave me alone? Was that irritating speech of yours jus' empty words? Does the same logic not apply to ya?"

"My brother committed suicide six months ago."

What--??

"I was the one who found his body. It was dark when I entered his room and his legs hit my face. He was hanging from the ceiling."

Mammon was left speechless at this sudden confession.

"I often wondered you know, why did he do it. He didn't leave a letter, a note, or even give a proper goodbye. He was my only family. I haven't moved on from his death yet. What if I had paid attention, would I have noticed that my always happy and smiling older brother was actually struggling? Did I ever notice how tired he looked or how lifeless his eyes were? If I had, maybe he would still be here."

There was a pause, as she struggled to continue.

"Maybe if I was a better sister, maybe if I wasn't such a burden, then he wouldn't have died. I feel so pathetic you know. So useless. If anything he deserved to live more than I do. He worked so many jobs to ensure we both had a roof over our heads and food on our plates. He sacrificed most of his life to make sure that my life was good, and what did I do for him? Nothing."

"Hey stop. Yer not to blame for anything that happened, and ya don't havta to tell me if it's so painful--"

"No, I am telling you all of this because I want you know to that I don't have a reason to live either. I had lost my will to live the day my brother died, but I kept going because everyone told me that my brother would've wanted me to be happy. I tried, I tried so hard to be happy but I couldn't. And today when I saw you on the ledge with the same expression as my brother on the day he killed himself, I felt the world slip under my feet. If I can't stop you from killing yourself, it's going to destroy me. So why not join you? I always feared dying alone anyway."

She had successfully climbed up and now stood beside Mammon.

"If you don't mind, can I request something? Can we hold hands when we jump?"

Mammon could tell she was trembling, he could sense her fear.

Humans truly are the most annoying species in the whole universe.

"Tch, stupid human," Mammon grumbled and picked up the human in bridal style. He got down from the ledge and walked away from the corner, still holding her in his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Shuddup, I'm taking ya to the mental hospital. Ya need some serious help."

"Do you know the address to one?"

"No, but ya will tell me. I know ya know."

"Fine, I'll tell you. But can we please stop at my place for a bit? I have to pick up a couple of things."

"Tch tch, Annoying little human."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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ALSO GUYS I AM SO SORRY FOR ABANDONING THIS. I WILL FINISH THIS SERIES BY THE END OF THIS MONTH, I PROMISE.

And also thank you to everyone who took their time to read so far. I really really appreciate it.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Please let me know your thoughts on how you feel about this.

If You Want To Be Tagged For The Next Part, You Can Comment Below

TAG LIST:

@vera-deville @obeythebutler @macherise @kimpsuwuw @beels-burger-babe @angeladore @rose-lord-of-simps @randomperson46 @depressedsilverloser @ilysia @mammonsturtle @anni1600 @devildomsgod @devilfemdom @leviathans-watching @asmosmainhoe @eternallydaydreaming2015 @gallantys @macherise @unnecessaryshenanigan @mythsofkairos @fandumshippr @keqingsfavbestie @siniy606@nightshadeheart11 @luckyauthorlampknight @gaylords-posts @mmeowxd @of-thegreedgod @veras-fanfic-reblogs @undeaddevildom @scxrletss @devildombimbo @i-passionately-love-angst @marisely03

[multiplefandomwritings]

the man, the myth, the legend

pairing: Max Verstappen x Horner!reader

warnings: swearing, other than that none really

summary: when you meet Max Verstappen for the first time, you cannot help but think that he is an insufferable asshole. however, the man makes it his mission to convince you of the opposite.

notes: feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! Also: Should i write a second part? If yes, drop your ideas below :)

disclaimer: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes :)

word count: 2.8k

„And here comes the man, the myth, the legend: Everybody get your hands together for Max Verstappen!” You rolled your eyes. You had only one word that you associated with the brunette man that now jumped on the stage, happily smiling – and that word was arrogance. You had only met him once, just like an hour ago, in the paddock, after he had just won. But that one time was enough for you to know that you did not ever want to talk to him again.

What you did not know was that the man that you despised was smitten by you. He had just met you once, and he had to admit that he did not show his best side. He had just won, and he felt like the king of the world, like he was invincible. So, in his mind, that was almost blank after several hours in the racing car and the win, he felt like you had to fall under his spell. But he had a rough awakening when he found you did not.

“Hey, my name is Max Verstappen and I just won this race!” You turned around to see the young man standing in front of you, his face red where the helmet had protected his head, smelling like burned tires and sweat. “Good for you!”, you said, not understanding why he spoke to you. After all, it was your first time here, you did not work for Red Bull, you were not an engineer, and you did not even care for racing that much.

You had just recently found out that Christian Horner, the team principle of the Red Bull Formula One team, was your father. Your mother and him had been high school sweethearts, she was his girlfriend when he first started to be race driver. When she found out that she was pregnant, she did not want to concern Christian with it, as he was an aspiring race star, and that was a dangerous job. She decided to keep you but broke up with Christian to guarantee him the career he had always wanted.

Your mother had been always very open about the fact that it was her decision to raise you alone, you therefore held no grudges against your father. However, you still wanted to meet him some day, and when your mother told you, you decided to try and contact Christian. Much to your surprise, he actually answered. He was cautious at first, which you understood, but the name of your mother rang a bell. You met, and you were not offended that he asked to do a DNA test. Once the results were there, he was quick to make up for the time you two had lost, which was why you stood here in the paddocks. He wanted to show you how and where he worked.

It was hectic. That was the first word that came to your mind when you came to the Hockenheimring in Germany. Christian – it was still weird to call him dad – paid for your flight, your hotel, basically everything. It was cute how he tried to reconnect with you, you really appreciated it, especially because you were willing to put the same effort in. Even his family, his wife, and kids, were eager to make you feel welcomed in their family. You still remembered very vividly the first dinner you had together, and how all of you ended up crying together by the end of it, because you got along so good, and because it was emotional for all of you.

The memory of this got you smiling, and that was the first time Max saw you. You stood somewhere by the wall, trying to not get lost in the hectic and organized chaos that surrounded you. You wore an oversized Red Bull Sweatshirt, and a cap. You seemed so lost in this surrounding, yet Max could not take his eyes of you. You radiated happiness, and suddenly he felt the anticipation of the coming race just washing away. His heart beat faster when he laid eyes on you, and he knew today was going to be a good race. He did not know why - he just knew that he was going to be on the podium today. He had to, even if it was just to impress you, the girl that had completely eased his mind before the race and had helped him win.

So, after he got out of his car, and after shortly celebrating with his crew, he looked around to see if he could spot you. And there you were, leaning against the metal bannisters, as the rain had finally stopped. You seemed to enjoy the bit of sunshine that the German sun was ready to provide. He quickly made his way over to you, desperate to speak with you before he got onto the podium. In hindsight, he should have waited for his nerves and his euphoria to boil down. Then he would have maybe thought about his words better.

“Good for you!” The words rang in his mind, and he was surprised how kind you were, even though you seemed to be confused why he talked to you. “Many people are very sure that I will be the world champion this year!” He could not stop the words spilling out of his mouth. The smile left your face, and instead you furrowed your brows. In this moment all he wanted was to turn back time. Another “Good for you” left your mouth, but this time it did not sounded sincere. You sounded rather annoyed because what way was that to start a conversation?

But instead of apologizing profoundly, which he should have, Max after-the-race-brain decided it was the right thing to bury the hole he was already in a lot deeper. “I was also the youngest drivers ever to compete in the Formula One, winning my first Grand Prix with just 18 years!” The third “Good for you!” left your mouth, this time your voice dripping with sarcasm. Did he not have somewhere else to be?

However, Max was not ready yet. Even though he knew he should stop right here, in order to maybe get another chance at talking to you without you thinking what a prick he was, he continued speaking. It was these words that solidified your opinion around him. “So far, my net worth is around 60 million dollars!” This time, you could only role your eyes. You were just about to make a sarcastic comment, when the man in front of you was called by someone. “Max, you need to get to the podium!”

You took his distraction as your cue and fled. When Max turned around to say something more to you, you had already disappeared into the crowd of the Red Bull team. He was disappointed and mad at himself, however, the adrenaline and happiness he got from standing on the podium would quickly wash away those feelings. Or so he thought at least. For a moment he could enjoy the feelings, the bliss of fame and the euphoria of the win.

After the champagne fight, Max had to give a public appearance for the fans, and he did not mind. While he waited to be announced, he looked in the crowd, deep down hoping that he could spot you somewhere. And there you were, in the VIP section, still wearing the oversized Red Bull Hoodie that looked insanely cute on you. You turned around, almost as if you were trying to find someone, and he could not stop the smile from spreading on his face. Whoever had given you the sweatshirt had given you one with his name on it.

You were looking for Christian. The one moment he was right next to you in the VIP area, and then he just disappeared into the crowd. You sighed. Whatever, you would just wait here for him to be back, even when that meant that you had to watch the infamous, youngest Grand Prix winner, worth 60 million dollars and whatever not Max Verstappen.

On stage, Max seemed like a totally different person, and that got you thinking. Maybe he was not so bad after all. He was charming, funny and you hated to admit it, but if you would have met him under different circumstances, he would have been exactly your type. When you found yourself laughing to one of the jokes he made, you decided that if you ever were to meet him again, and he wanted to talk to you again, you would give him another chance.

Max had watched you from the corner of his eyes the entire time, and somehow, he still managed to stay focused on the questions. He felt like he really was the best version of himself right now and he was even more surprised that he had so blatantly failed at flirting with you. While you looked skeptical in the beginning, he could now see you laughing, and it made his heart flutter.

“Well Max, that shall be all! Congratulations again and enjoy your party tonight!” The party – Max had entirely forgot about that, and he found himself wondering, if not hoping, that you would be there. “Thank you!”, he said and was walked of the stage. He tried to get another sight of you, but you disappeared into the crowd and all he could hope for was a chance of meeting you again.

Christian had profoundly apologized to you for just leaving you behind. You waved it off, you had actually enjoyed watching the event, even more the day. Now it was time for you to get ready for the after-race party, maybe take a quick nap and a shower. Christian insisted on organizing you a lift to the hotel as well as to the party, and you did not complain. Even better was that he had gifted you a beautiful dress, that his wife and he had chosen for you. It was truly beautiful, and you were surprised of how thoughtful it was that he had gifted you a dress by listening to you talking about what you liked.

When you arrived at the hotel, you thanked the driver and made your way to your room. As planned, you took a short nap that occupied you longer than expected, as you almost overslept. You hurriedly showered and got ready for the party and made it downstairs just in time. Before you stepped outside the hotel, you caught a gaze of yourself in a mirror and you were in awe. The dress was really something else, beautifully complimenting your figure and your eyes.

When you arrived, Christian escorted you in via the back entrance, not yet wanting to reveal you to the media. You were glad about it. His world was entirely different from your life until this point, and you were not sure yet if you wanted to share his fame. He left you standing with his wife to look after his two drivers, but you did not mind. Geri and you got along splendid.

While you could sneak in the party, Max had to take the front entrance that was full of cameras and interviewers and fans. He smiled for the media, signed a lot of whatever people put in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere. Would you be there? He knew that he would do anything to see you smile again. Max could not understand himself. He had never felt like his before – he felt like he was a teenager again, his body tingling and his mind clouded. Once he made it in, he was immediately greeted by Christian.

“Hey Max!”, the team principle engulfed him in a side hug, “Congrats again on that amazing win!” The Dutch smiled wide. “Thank you Christian!” “I hope you are in your best form right now, because I want you to meet someone very special!” Max laughed. “Of course, after such a win always! Who is it?” Christian nudged him into the side with his elbow. “You will see, just follow me!”

So, the race driver followed him, as Christian led him through the crowd to a high table a bit off. Max could see Geri, Christian’s wife, as well as another woman standing with her back towards him. Christian approached the table, smiling widely. “Max, may I introduce you to my eldest daughter! Darling, have you two met before?” With Christian approaching you, you turned around and saw the brunette man from earlier in close proximity. The shock and embarrassment on his face was badly hidden, and you decided to spare the man a few sorrows. “I don’t believe we have met before. My name is y/n, and you must be the famous Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your win today!”

Max could feel his checks grow red from embarrassment and he got flustered. Luckily, you did not seem to have Christian told anything about the earlier incident. You bent forwards, greeting Max the French way - kissing him on both cheeks. That did not help him at all. „Is everything alright, Max? You don’t seem so well. Darling, there is a balcony over there, Max here seems like he could use some fresh air - do you mind taking him outside for a bit?“

You shook your head, and actually did not mind. Now was the time that you would find out who Max Verstappen really was. You did not even think about it, but since Max really did not look well, you grabbed his hand to guide him outside. His heart furiously beat in his chest, and he was terribly afraid that you would be able to hear it.

Once outside, the cool air helped him calm down a bit. You said down on a bench and offered him the place next to you. He gladly accepted. Between the podium, the events and until he had to go to the party, Max had thought about all the things he could say to you to make it up, but now next you, his mind was absolutely blank. The two of you were quite for a moment, but to your surprise it did not feel unpleasant. And then, Max broke the silence.

„Listen, I am very sorry for our first meeting, I behaved like an arrogant asshole.“ You did not know why, but this statement made you laugh out loud. And Max did not know why, but it felt like that was the best reaction you could have showed – presuming that you were not laughing about him. “Let me be honest, if I wouldn’t have attended your press event, I would possibly still think that you are an arrogant asshole. That event really saved you ass!” Max now grinned as well.

“I am glad I got to save my reputation. But again, I am sorry. After the race my mind doesn’t work so well.” You nodded understandingly. “Really, no worries, Max. I am quite glad you are not that arrogant.” “How is that?”, the Dutch man looked at you. “Because I would have been disappointed in my own taste. Because quite frankly, you are very handsome and exactly my type!”, you laughed.

Max was stunned for a moment. He had rarely ever met someone as upfront and self-confident as you. “Well, thank you for your compliment, I can give it right back. The moment I first laid eyes on you, I was rather enchanted by you. You actually helped me win the race!” “No way!”, you grinned, “How?” Max blushed a bit. “The moment I laid eyes on you, I suddenly felt very calm and collected, I cannot really describe it. It helped me focus, and I somehow knew I had to win, even if it was just to impress you.” “That is really sweet, Max”, she said with a genuine smile on her face.

Suddenly, a gush of wind hit the pair of you and you shivered. Max reacted immediately and put his jacket around you. “You should have kept the sweater on, it suited you very well. Especially because it had my name on it.” You laughed and playfully hit his shoulders. “Max Verstappen, you are unbelievable!” Max grinned at you, and then he even winked. “Jokes aside, you look absolutely stunning, today and tonight. You are clearly taking after your father!” You shook your head.

“I like this Max better than the bragging one. You make me laugh, and I appreciate that a lot. So, I can definitely say you that you are not only my type look wise...”, now it was your turn to wink at the man. Max looked at you, and suddenly there were butterflies in your stomach. “Well, I can only give that back, so how about you go on a date with me?” “I would love nothing more than that, Max.”

[longing-for-rain]

I was reading one of your fanfiction and you’ve written in disgusting detail about zuko getting r@ped, why?

Interesting question. I wonder about it myself sometimes.

But what the hell, let me psychoanalyze myself tonight because it’s been a really bad time lately and it’s Friday night so you know what that means 🥴🥃

Anyways.

Weirdly enough I’ve been drawn to that kind of content from a young age, like age 12 young, pretty much right after I’d gone on the internet and been exposed to shit. It was always confusing for me. I always had this weird compulsion to watch certain male characters get hurt very badly in ways women typically get hurt. I’m not just talking about rape either; that’s probably the most extreme part of it, but it was also things like “damsel in distress” situations, eating disorders, body image issues, etc. I’m not saying men never experience these things, just that especially in media, they’re almost always associated with women.

I felt really weird for it because let’s be honest it is pretty fucked up. How did I get like this? It’s not even like I found it hot or anything—I’m a lesbian, I don’t feel attraction towards men at all. Besides, it was only violence I was drawn to. The minute a story started getting to some kind of Stockholm Syndrome situation where the victim starting falling in love with his abuser, it became a squick and I had to run away. It also couldn’t be just any male character. It had to be one I really liked. There have been others but you’re right, it started with Zuko and over the years it’s mostly Zuko. And yeah, that’s why I ended up writing content like that myself, because it was on my mind and I use writing to vent. But why? What was I subconsciously trying to vent about in that specific case?

Lately though I think I figured it out. The best way I can think of to describe it is a revenge fantasy. Which I know is deeply fucked up but hear me out.

So I get on the internet at age 12, right? At the time, my favorite shows were ATLA and HTTYD. So as one does, I start looking for things about my shows and come across art of the blorbos and naturally discover the world of fanfiction. And how wonderful for 12 year old me! I latched onto Zutara almost instantly because even as a kid my favorite scene in the show was the Final Agni Kai and I really wanted to see them get together. Now I find out there is a whole world of stories I can read online about that exact thing happening in so many different ways? It was beautiful.

But as you know if you know anything about fanfic sites (which I assume you do because you found my fucked up stories lol) I found some unpleasant things. Keep in mind this was around 2012 and I was browsing ff.net which had nowhere near the tagging/warning system that AO3 does. And even if it did it probably wouldn’t have mattered because I was 12 years old with a dangerous combination of naïveté and curiosity.

So anyway! What do I find on ff.net when I went scrolling for my lovely Zutara fics? Well, I did find some really cute ones. There are some I still think about but can’t find for the life of me because they’re either deleted or buried in the depths of ff.net. That was all good. You know what wasn’t good? The…other things. And oh boy. The people complaining about how Zutara is some kind of colonizer abuse fantasy wouldn’t have lasted 10 seconds back then. I remember reading a fic where Zuko raped Katara while she was tied to a tree. No warnings, and in the end note the author said it wasn’t rape because she ended up liking it. Many, many fics revolving around the idea of Zuko kidnapping Katara and making her into some kind of sex slave but it’s okay! She likes it and he turns good on the end for her so it’s true love! I also vividly remember a Blue Spirit x Katara fic where they were fucking, he took off the mask revealing himself as Zuko, Katara got scared and tried to push him off, Zuko just held her down and kept going. Not called rape. No warnings. Comments full of people talking about how “hot” it was.

Get the picture? It was horrifying. Keep in mind I was 12. It made me deeply angry, not just because of the misogyny and glorification of sexual violence, but also because it was Zuko doing it. I loved this character. I loved him because his story was so compelling, he was good and kind, he seemed safe to me. And reading about him violently abuse and rape the person he was supposed to love most was horrifying. It felt like some kind of betrayal. It made me hate him.

Middle school era me stopped reading Zutara fic as a result. I kept getting burned by it, and felt drawn towards that kind of Zuko rapefic instead. An old Zhaoko fic still sticks out in my mind. It was a pretty simple plot where Zhao kidnapped Zuko, whipped him and raped him, then at the end Katara rescued and healed him. It was oddly cathartic for me. Because it a) satisfied my revenge itch to see Zuko hurt in the same way I read about him hurting Katara in those other fics and b) put Zuko in a vulnerable position that would render him incapable of being a perpetrator in that universe (I know that’s not how it works in reality but that’s just my gut reaction there idk). Also read tons of fucked up Boiling Rock fics because it’s kind of a no brainer in the Zuko rapefic genre.

I don’t remember exactly why, but in the mid 2010s I didn’t really read much fic at all and my interest sort of fizzled out. I was mostly into HTTYD at that point and had a brief fling with Voltron before the fandom went to shit (which didn’t take long). So I guess that dark side of mine went dormant for a while and I didn’t think about it a lot.

Then oh boy…COVID hit. I was 19 when it started and found myself drawn into unhealthy levels of internet usage like most people during that time because what else were we supposed to do for fun. I was also going through some really fucked up heavy personal shit which led me to turning back to my old comfort ship…Zutara. Found my way onto tumblr, then to the fanfic sites. AO3 was a welcome surprise after being used to ff.net. Also for the first time I discovered the “community” aspect of fandom which I really enjoyed and helped me fight some of that COVID-induced isolation. It was really nice at first. I even began writing my own fics for the first time. And as you can see from my AO3 profile, they were very simple and cutesy in the beginning. Back before I went insane lmao.

But that happiness was short lived, because I kind of had a repeat of what happened when I was 12, only worse. Same pattern of reading some really good Zutara fics and some really bad ones. Zuko is sexually violent towards Katara. Zuko kidnaps Katara. Zuko rapes Katara. The author has some kind of technicality that makes it “not really rape/abuse” when that was clearly the intention. But this time, I was in a “community” with “friends” who promised me I mattered to them and that they cared about me. So I mentioned something about how disturbed I was to see things like this, naïvely thinking they’d understand where I was coming from.

And they…told me I was a bigot.

Yeah so. This was after I’d been sexually assaulted the first time. I also had this older creepy beta reader who I later realized had been sexually grooming me but that’s another story. Anyways! Point is I was in a bad state of mind, especially surrounding the topic of sexual violence, so it really hit me hard to have it used against me like that, made to feel crazy for having a problem with it, and dogpiled on for trying to explain myself and speak out.

Needless to say, I ended up feeling isolated, hurt, and confused by this. Much like I was back at age 12, so I relapsed into bad habits.

Honestly I’d been doing it before the breaking point, just more subtly. If you’ve creeped my AO3, you’ll see various flavors of “femdom” shit there. I like to call that my “I was being groomed lol” era. I had someone basically trying to convince me that male domination was “empowering” and that it was a sign of “maturity” for me to embrace it. Basically trying to convince me most/all women secretly desired it, resisting was a sign she wanted it deep down, I’d come around eventually, etc. Honestly I think this person just liked my writing and wanted me to pump out free fetish content for her, but it kind of backfired since it made me uncomfortable and I ended up just wanting to write femdom and Zuko rapefics because in that situation, it was the only outlet I had to express my hurt and discomfort at being bombarded with that disturbing kind of fic where Zuko is a rapist. I was subconsciously trying to reverse the narrative to escape the misogyny and the trauma I was suffering as a result.

Then after I got out of the grooming situation it just went off the rails from there. Stuff in my personal life was also getting worse so I just had this mass of stress and anger constantly running through my mind. It also really fucked with my sense of identity since the groomer/community I was in sort of left me with the impression that a woman’s role in society is to be objectified and abused and humiliated, and that she’s supposed to embrace it. I don’t think they necessarily intended it that way, but it left me with that impression because I saw so much content like that and barely anything representing women the way I wished to be perceived as a woman. It even made me feel alienated from other woman to the point I didn’t want to be a woman anymore (which is a feeling I’ve grappled with since puberty basically but that’s another story).

I don’t know which fic of mine you’re specifically referring to in which Zuko is raped in graphic detail, but I’m assuming it’s Dark Reflections because that’s probably the most graphic thing I’ve written. That’s the fic I started writing in the middle of that whole mess. It was very cathartic. I went with a female perpetrator against Zuko because it allowed me to fuck with the gender dynamics. A key plot point in that fic is also that Jun’s motivation partly stems from the fact that she mistakenly believes Zuko raped Katara so the idea of taking revenge against Zuko for being a rapist felt more direct. And of course, the reason why it’s so detailed and graphic and contains a lot of typical violent kink shit is because that was all the same shit I’d had thrown at me in the context of Zuko abusing Katara, so I just wanted to give it back to him if that makes sense. It brought me a morbid sense of comfort to see him be abused in the same way. I just have a catharsis generally about men suffering what they make women suffer. I know it’s fucked up, but it was a fucked up part of my life. And for the record I’m not trying to justify it or say it’s okay, I’m kinda of neutral on that tbh. Just acknowledging where my mind was and the fact that it’s a thing that I did.

For what it’s worth now, as I took the time to focus more on healing, I’ve felt less drawn to pure violence. I find myself wanting to write more about the thematic aspects of it and explore it that way. Even with Dark Reflections itself, the fic is incomplete and much longer than I originally intended it to be because I actually do want to go back and work through those themes and unpack what they mean for both the characters and the society they exist in. The more recent things I’ve written have been more along those lines too. Less graphic shocking violence, more philosophical as I pick my own brain and try to make sense of things.

Honestly writing this out helped me organize my brain a lot so idk hopefully it answered your question too.

And yes I know I’m sounding absolutely batshit but this is like my brain’s toxic sewer outlet valve. Believe it or not I am surprisingly normal in real life. I have a dog and big biceps and a cool rock collection and an office job with a nice view and everything. Anyways I’m passing out now. Night.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

So it's 5am and instead of sleeping, I'm thinking about the fact that my birthday is in a week and a half, and I still have no plans or any idea of what to do, and probably everyone thinks I'm a weirdo about this at 31 years old. I kind of am.

So to explain why I'm so Weird about my birthday, let me tell you about the Year No One Came To My Birthday Party.

This sounds like something out a melodramatic teen movie. I know it does! It seems stupid to be upset about it over a decade later. But it encapsulated a lot of issues I've had with my friends at the time, and to be honest? As much as a stupid movie trope it sounds like, it hurt.

I was turning 14. My best friend had told me in advance she would be a couple hours late because she had a school thing. She's the only one excused from this bullshit.

Because an hour and forty-five minutes after people were supposed to show up, none of the like, 5 friends I had to invite had arrived yet, and I was freaking out a lil and kept staring out the window every time I heard a car and had finally retreated to my bedroom to at least be sad in private.

My parents came in and left my room at this point. Dad jokingly asked if I wanted them to go buy me friends. I genuinely do not think he meant that to be hurtful and had no idea what to do about the situation and was trying to alleviate it with humor but. Wrong thing to say! Very wrong thing!

But finally, the phone rang. For me! From one of my friends' houses, said the caller ID. Thank God. She would explain what happened and when she was coming over.

No, actually. It was a different friend, who was over at her house, with a third friend.

What?

She made small talk with me for a bit, while I sat confusedly on the phone trying to figure out how to ask why she was there and not at my house, maybe a ten minute walk away tops.

Huh, she must have forgotten?

Nope!

She asks: How is your party going?

Me: It's not. No one's here.

I remember vividly trying not to cry and sounding very angry because...well I was upset and hurt and trying to actually vocalize words in that state and that was the best I could do.

She was confused. What? What do you mean, the party isn't happening and no one is there?

I don't really remember exactly what I said after that. Basically everyone else who was supposed to be there...was hanging out together, not but not with me. Which would have been fine, but apparently instead of hanging out with me on my birthday, for my birthday party, they decided a phone call from one of them was like. The same? Not hurtful?

She hung up the phone quickly after that.

She did not, however, arrive quickly.

My best friend showed up to the party first.

About forty-five minutes later, the other three finally arrived, by car, at my house to spend my birthday with me.

So like, yeah, forgive me for being Weird about my birthday. Every year I get reminded of this again, and how the one thing I'd like to do is celebrate with people I want to hang out with, and knowing that I cannot expect or rely on that to happen, because I will get hurt.

[maxwell-grant]

So, as a lover of superheroes, supervillains, super-science ETC, i've had Venture Bros on the mind recently, for reasons that should be obvious, and my mind has run into an intersting question I kinda want to pick your brain on: Why does Venture Bros work. Like, it's a show that is absurdly cynical and dark and bleak. It's comedically dark, but sitll dark. Downright mean-spirited a lot of the time. And normally, I find that kind of cynicism very dull, but...For some reason, here it feels like it works. Maybe it's just the sense of affection, of real love for classic 60s cartoons and superhero comics sprinkled throughout, but...I don't know, it feels like it should make me as angry as something like Velma does but it just doesn't. I don't know why. ANy thoughts

I said as much that a lot of that has to do with the fact that the show stuck around, and the characters were developed so vividly, that the creators had to answer the "...okay, so now what?" process, that usually stops those kinds of mean dark parodies right on their tracks when they run out of cheap shots to take. But honestly, going back and rewatching it? Venture Bros was always going to go there, the whole Jonny Quest parody thing just did not last past Season One, hell you could argue it didn't even really last past the pilot or midway through S1. By episode one of Season 2, the show had gestated into it's own thing. The show was allowed to grow, and change, and develop. It got to move past itself and say goodbye to old favorite ideas and say hello to new ones, it got to breathe new life into itself with the soft-reboot of Season 6 and keep being so much more with every new season.

The artbook goes into this quite a lot, actually, with Jackson talking about how Venture Bros started as a one-off gag observation about how Jonny Quest ripped off Tom Swift, and then became a concept when he realized he could fit all of his unused ideas for The Tick and superhero parodies and weird comic ideas. He and Doc Hammer actually specifically address how the parody element faded and why:

I like the pilot. It isn't the show that we made. but I like the pilot. The pilot was made with a different concept. I can watch it and not tie it into Venture Bros. I can go, "Okay, here are these characters in their first bid for comedy,", and it had moments when we both said, "Yes, we will perpetuate these moments. This is who these characters are." And it had moments of single-beat pilot jumps. It was fine. It was not the show that we kept writing, because we couldn't.

There's something about a straight parody that I think has a cap. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe people can write a parody forever, but I think you can only make so many jokes on one thing for a certain amount of time before you go, "We have to develop the world that these people are in.". It needs a revolving door.

You would need to approach it like Harvey Birdman, which said, "We're going to take every character we can get a license for, bring them onto the show, and have them do their thing in our world so we can demystify all the characters you remember from your childhood". It's a great straight-up parody. But if you take Sealab 2021 - that had nothing to do with the original. They took these drawings, and they said, "These are totally different people. We're going to give them their own different world, their own language, characters", and that worked.

We were leaning towards that. Venture Bros was even weirder because we said, "Let's make this world rock solid and deep and long and have just an abundance of information. Let's have the jokes come from everywhere, and the speed is hard to keep up with. You have to watch it twice". And that was nothing that Jackson and I talked about. Let's make this smart, rich and meaningful, and hope that other people have our sensibility and eventually get it. - Doc Hammer, Go Team Venture!: The Art and Making of The Venture Bros.

There's even this quote from Jackson regarding one of the earliest attempts made in trying to figure out the show's look and design where it was supposed to be animated in CG at Will Vinton Studios, and it was intended to look gorgeous as well as outrageously expensive and within six months everyone aboard had left and Jackson's time in The Tick was up so he had to get production on the new thing moving along. And he describes what wound up being a pretty effective summation of the show post-animation bump;

"Screw the bad-on-purpose sixties Marvel thing. Screw irony. Isn't it way more subversive to do this smart-ass, darkish comedy but have every aspect of it look gorgeous?

That's what got me thinking that it's way cooler to make things well and beautiful than to try to make them crappy on purpose - Jackson Publick, Go Team Venture!: The Art and Making of The Venture Bros.

Most if not everything that makes the show work, that makes it's character work, you can trace pretty directly from that process, of where the show started versus where it ended. It's Rusty Venture becoming a more complicated character and less of a mean caricature. It's Brock Samson needing things to do besides being the action badass who kills armies of disposable henchmen, and the show needing to move past him and make him so much more as a person. It's in how the show was originally conceived in a villain-of-the-week format and The Monarch was a throwaway gag character for the pilot, but The Monarch's defined personality and shtick worked well enough that it made it much easier and more rewarding for them to just go back to him for most episodes, until he wormed his way into becoming the show's other protagonist. It's Hank and Dean growing past literally and textually interchangeable and disposable Hardy Boys pastiches into actual people, distinct people, people who can carry their own plotlines and take center stage and actually be The Venture Brothers as something more than just a throwaway gag concept.

I'm certainly not saying it works for everyone, or that it works 100% of the time, again rewatching the show is putting a lot into perspective for me and a lot of jokes kinda did just age abysmally, but the show knows what it's doing enough to skirt by and avoid a lot of catastrophic pitfalls that usually happen with similar projects.

And really I'd say the main reason it works is, and it's never really just one reason, is because it was, and is, a painstaking labor of love founded on a marriage by two geeks (I'm not even exaggerating, that's how the two described their partnership at least a few times) shooting the shit at a treefort for nights on end, getting to do all these dumb voices that you only get to do with friends, laboring extensively for years on making this thing they'd created the best that it possibly could be, something they put all of themselves into again and again. It's them making a dozen different comedy duos voiced by themselves and finding ways to make each distinct so they can fit in all these dumb and lovely little conversations and skits, it's that combination of their skills and preferences and even disagreements. It's got that Asterix thing where the work is so inseparably intertwined with the partnership that made it, that the work's growth over time is tied to.

So honestly the best way I can summarize why I think the Venture Bros works is because it was 19 years of Jackson Pollock and Doc Hammer at AstroBase doing exactly this, just replace the cartoon sound effects with deep cut pop culture riffs and in-depth earnest extrapolations of why the comic books and cartoons they love and obsess about are deeply stupid on a fundamental level and why this something great that you can spin endless stories and scenes out of, actually no keep the over-the-top battle sound effects, those are equally important.

"Jackson and I, we'd go every day and talk and laugh and get to know each other and not even talk about the show, but just find out what our sensibilites were. It was like the process of falling in love"

We played darts and made up these little skits, much of it became The Venture Bros. It was all kind of based around this idea that Aquaman and Black Manta were not who they were but people that were much chattier and more social. It's almost like what The Monarch and Dr Venture became, actual people that have these bizarre jobs: chaser and chasee. This strange bureaucratic relationship with the paradigm of villain and hero.

I'm a goofball and name shit. Of course I named my studio. We took over the place and AstroBase as this entity - a really filthy fucking painting studio - became a creative tree fort. Owning the AstroBase is one of the things that made The Venture Bros.

A place where we could go at two in the morning and scream at the top of our lungs that had nothing to do with commerce. It was a clubhouse. A pure idiot invention. And if we wanted to stay up all night making costumes or rubber swords, we just did. - Doc Hammer - Doc Hammer, Go Team Venture!: The Art and Making of The Venture Bros.

[esther-dot]

Lately I've been toying with the idea that Jon will indeed become king of the FF. It's the only reasonable ending for him, the only one that matches both Jon's show ending and Sansa's book foreshadowing (to marry a king, not a prince, not a king who had been). I think the show ending on such ambiguous (and bitter!) terms for Jon was decided because of the sequel. In other words, I'm considering the possibility that M. will transfer his 5year gap at the end, and we'll see them again at the end after some time will have lapsed and they'll be older and firmly in their positions. But, with this ending I'm afraid we'll only get hints of Jon and Sansa's romance on page, and nothing too explicit (although I guess that it might have a role in Daeny's death).

I think that, throughout the book, the famous "the FF don't kneel" is only meant to be subverted: they will kneel to Jon, after everything he has done for them, and he will probably settle them in the Gift(s). In my opinion, this ending is truly poetic. If ASoIaF is a fairytale, then the hidden prince does not become king because of his inheritance (which he has already foresaken just as he will reject the Targaryen inheritance: so vividly given as "I don't want it!" in the show, lol), but has forged a kingdom for himself, because he is truly worth it. I am not sure that he will go to the Wall because he will be punished, but regardless, he will become king of the FF. If it will be like this, then Jon's ending is the apotheosis of subversions.

And only as an equal will he be able to marry Sansa: when Sansa becomes queen, everybody will want her for her claim twice over, unless her husband is already king. I think this ending is foreshadowed in her ASOS, Sansa IV chapter: two castles in the sky, one black, one grey, become one in all the colors of spring. Note that this is something Sansa sees in the morning sky, meaning after dawn.

And with this explanation I've made peace with the disastrously ambiguous ending of GoT.

I wish you'll make your peace too, Esther!

(old anon btw, anxiously waiting for your posts for years, and now this darn thing made take a name. So be it).

It's so nice to finally "meet" you @justleaves!

I like that reading of book foreshadowing and the mess GoT gave us. You know I can't agree with most of the fandom that we can entirely or even mostly dismiss the show's ending. Too much of it gave me that, "it was always meant to be this way" feeling and since the ending of the show, Jonsas have turned up a lot of foreshadowing for Arya sailing away, King Bran, Dark Dany, Jaime and Cersei dying together...so many things were kinda-sorta right, just presented so horribly they felt wrong!

I've always felt very weird about Jon becoming King of the FF, most of us Jonsas reject that out of hand because it really rubs us the wrong way, but I had a series of anons critical of Martin's handling of aspects of Dany's POV some time ago, particularly how he characterized the Dothraki, and I did go back to read/re-watch some interviews, and I've accepted he doesn't share our sensibilities there, or on a handful of other issues. I hadn't even realized I was projecting when I dismissed the possibility of a kid from a different culture becoming the leader of an indigenous group. To me that is inherently negative. But of course, at the time when Martin began all this, it wasn't generally perceived that way, and we have Mance so...

Right after GoT ended some of us speculated that not including the Gift was why they had Jon ride off past the Wall with the FF, while in the books, he might be responsible for the Gift, so I really like how you've blended the two. I've written before about how it would make sense to me that Jon rejects the Stark/Northern claim and then rejects the Targaryen/Southern claim, and is rewarded in he end for those decisions, and I think it would be a more satisfying resolution to the bastard struggle if he is chosen as a leader because of who he is rather than who his "father" is (whether we mean Ned's son -> KitN or Rhaegar's son -> Targ heir). The way Jon is of the North, has such connections to the Starks (whether as Ned's bastard or Lyanna's boy post parentage reveal) as well as his time with the FF, the understanding he has and care he has for them which others do not, well, it certainly sets him up as a great bridge between the cultures. A person uniquely capable of creating a lasting peace.

I also really like your idea of the time-lapse because a) Sansa's age b) allowing all these revelations time to settle. I can't rationalize how the cast of characters would accept Jon as the legitimized son of Ned, only to turn around and accept that actually he's Lyanna's son, and how they'd be ok with a Jonsa marriage immediately thereafter. And that's not even dealing with how he'll be perceived/the rumors that will be swirling around him post rez and whatever his actions are immediately after. Love it in fics, but when I think about it in Martin's words, hard for me to imagine, so the idea that in a few years after Jon has established himself they'd be able to marry, that makes sense to me.

I think this ending is foreshadowed in her ASOS, Sansa IV chapter: two castles in the sky, one black, one grey, become one in all the colors of spring. Note that this is something Sansa sees in the morning sky, meaning after dawn.

That is a beautiful reading of the scene! I can easily see that being the idea! The other reading I've seen on this is that it's the Jon and Sansa competing claims being joined as the solution to the Northern succession crisis (that may be @agentrouka-blog's spec? I'm not successfully turning anything up atm). I had actually written into the margins in my copy "sounds like Winterfell" by the line about a castle in ruins, and later in ASOS, we have back to back Jon and Sansa chapters that talk about Winterfell and have a weird number of similarities (link). But, specifically, the ruins/rebuilding idea seems like it points to Jon and Sansa's stories converging and allowing them to restore Winterfell together:

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins. (Jon XII, ASOS) The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with the steep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenellations all along the top . . . (Sansa VII, ASOS)

So as always, I see the pros, I see the cons, I can't make up my mind, but I'm ok with that. I have no problem talking about GoT/my frustrations when I get an ask, but after I wrote my post canon fic Free, I just...wasn't angry anymore. D&D's choices will always baffle me, I'm disappointed we don't have TWOW yet, but I enjoy the different spec, fics, gifs, and art we have in the Jonsa fandom, so as long as we're all having fun, I'm happy.

I'd love to read any other observations you have about ASOIAF and fairytales, I think posts about parallels with other lit are fascinating!

[taylortruther]

so i've been thinking a lot about the vault tracks and I really like most of them. i like emma falls in love but there's a line that's really been bothering me, the "and all the bad boys would be good boys if they only had a chance to love her." It just hits weird for me, as a woman in her late-20s. like it reads to me like it's girls' and women's responsibility to change men for the better, but I think I might be misunderstanding it in the broader context of the song. I was curious to know what our resident song & taylor analyst thinks, so what do you make of that line?

i LOOOVE this question so naturally my response got really long.

so first, some context: taylor has often spoken/sung about this fantasy of turning a bad guy good. she said it explicitly in this 2012 parade interview:

I think every girl’s dream is to find a bad boy at the right time, when he wants to not be bad anymore.

📌 to answer your first point: taylor knows her friend emma is a wonderful, beautiful person, anyone would be lucky to be with her. so taylor is saying if all these bad boys (players, guys who won't commit, charmers who play games, etc.) knew how good they'd have it with emma, they'd change themselves asap for a chance to be with her.

but you are picking up on some troubling gender roles, which are kinda the basis of the bad boy/good girl trope.

let's dive in!!

📌 the sexism in the trope: the good girl/bad boy trope is vividly present throughout taylor's discography, but it's not unique to her, or her original creation. it's common throughout all kinds of media and stories. the trope goes like this: there's a hot edgy guy who's confident and charismatic and dangerous (could be literal or figurative.) he has a list of people he's left haunted and wanting him, because he's sooo broken inside. he's misunderstood and he probably cheats. he's masculine and sexy. enter good girl. she's safe, relatable, average, except for her big heart. that desire for love, and loving, is where she stands out. she can be the one who fixes him! she can change him! he recognizes that she's special, and as a result, she gets him to settle down! she tames him! and now he loves her and they get the best of both worlds: he's still sexy and charismatic but he's committed to her (supposedly), and she gets to love him and be loved by him. what a fairytale!

it's a seductive fantasy because it makes girls feel special... and conveniently makes it romantic for men to be emotionally immature, self-centered, unfaithful, even manipulative or abusive, until they meet the right woman. he's sooo bad but the love of a good girl is all he needs to change! never mind the fact that his change will require her ongoing emotional labor/energy, and he will introduce pain and chaos into her life.

so that's some of the sexism you're seeing in this trope!

let's move on to the taylor universe:

📌 the trope in taylor's life/music: from a young age, taylor chose and had thrust upon her the role of a "good girl." bad boys naturally complement that. consider that early on, her idea of love was a fairytale - romeo choosing juliet - and some of her most significant brushes with love at that time were with older men who treated her badly. they charmed her but manipulated her or played games and never prioritized her. she couldn't change them--she was hurt and confused by them, deeply. and that informs so much of her later discography: "i am no one's exception," "i can make the guys good for a weekend," style, "we need love but all we want is danger," ready for it, end game, the story she told about joe "running with wolves" before he settled down with her...

she used to believe the fighting, chaos, drama, pain, etc. was essential for love to feel real (the way i loved you, red, the archer, daylight) because if you're a good girl trying to be with a bad boy, that's just a given. how could love be anything but painful and dramatic when you are with someone who is committed to being selfish? and how could you trust anyone if you believe they're always on the verge of hurting you?

that's why songs like the archer, daylight, cowboy like me, and long story short are so touching. she learned that she deserved more than pain, confusion, and heartbreak.

📌 the reformed bad boy: it's important to note here that for all of the "i want this man to choose me," taylor has always kinda known that she didn't want a bad boy. she wanted the reformed bad boy, who wouldn't hurt her, and would love her safely (with just enough chaos to be exciting.) also, taylor delights in telling men that she knows her worth, she won't stick around forever, he better treat her well (ayhtdws, ithk)... and if he doesn't, he better apologize for it (hygtg, betty.) she even describes herself as taking advantage of the playboys and narcissist who love her, and switching out these interchangeable kens.

this is why we got a song like foolish one in the sntv vault. taylor has long known she's clever, imaginative, and she's always had her blazing self-respect. but she also held on to her hopeless romanticism: sure, she's not the exception. but she could be. she hoped to be.

📌 the reformed good girl: so, maybe in 2010-2012, taylor thought every girl would find it romantic to change a bad boy, or at least be with a reformed one. i think she loved the story of it for herself. and maybe she still might like the idea of a man choosing to shed his selfishness for her. but taylor is 33 now, not 22 (as she was in the parade interview.) i think she knows that the good girl/bad boy ideal isn't realistic, or fair. being a good girl is limiting, and bad boys aren't romantic - they don't change just because someone offers them love. fixing them isn't her responsibility, either. but a decent partner will want to protect her and do right by her. real love is complex and golden like daylight, not extreme or simple (black and white) or chaotic (burning red.) "no more tug of war, now i just know there's more." no more games, just love. that's what she's always known she deserves.

[lovebvni]

Hey sorry to bother you, and be warned this is a LONG ask, but you seem like a cool person and i want your help with a weird experience I just had.

today I was looking at photos of liminal spaces and weirdcore stuff because it's my current obsession, and I decided it would be fun to walk around in these places. So I laid down and meditated and did some Wim Hof breathing, and then I visualized myself walking around in a weirdcore-ish house. I really vividly remember everything, like the cracks in the walls and the really dirty floor. I was like "holy shit this is amazing I'm doing weirdcore in real life". I walked around some more, and I was just touching everything and using all of my senses, like I could hear the TV static and I could smell musty carpet and so on. But then, something really weird happened.

I heard a noise like a little kid crying, so I went over and found a little boy with a messed-up face hiding in a closet. He was clearly very upset, and I was confused. He told me his name was Keith and his parents abandoned him in this house, and I guess he was left behind and he died? Anyways so I helped him, and he showed me his toys and stuff, and he had a basket of beanie babies, except now they were all moldy. He showed me where his body was too. I'm not going to get into the details, but it was horrifying.

Then we went outside, and there were trees everywhere. Keith told me that now that I had found him, he was at peace, and then he said goodbye and disappeared into a glowing blur in the sky.

At that point i suddenly sat up, and I was back in my bedroom. Does anyone know what happened?? I'm overwhelmed rn and honestly kind of scared. I don't think I shifted, and I was definitely awake. Please give me some advice, I need someone to explain what the f just happened to me.

okay, first of all, wow.. i’m very shocked by this. i haven’t heard anything like this before and honestly my intuition isn’t clarifying if this was a dream or a shift — but the specific detail about his face being messed up makes me feel like it was some sort of lucid dream.

augh!! i wish i was able to help more and as for sure, but let’s interpret it both ways.

first of all, if it was a dream, this is something that is connecting to her you personally. keith could represent your inner child, or something or someone in your mind who you have been struggling with.

if your past was hard, if you feel abandoned by your parents, then the inner child thing would make the most sense. him showing you thinks that are old and moldy… and even his body… i feel like that represents the inability to let go of the past. molding usually means you don’t get to the root of the issue, and a dead body being left… well it wasn’t cleaned up and buried properly. it wasn’t a grave, it was (what seems to be) a murder sight.

but also the fact he was inside.. it reminds me of inside by bo burnham. “well well, look who’s inside again / went out to look for a reason to hide again / well well buddy you find out / so come out with your hands up we got you surrounded.”

it feels like he realized it was finally time to confront everything, so he brought you — someone he could trust or lean on— through his life to try and explain it. he was scared, but he needed it.

he wanted a friend, and you’re that friend for him. when saying one is "at peace" it usually means they have come to terms with their sadness or anger, they can let go fo it, it is no longer a burdnen or something that holds them back. it is simply something that happened in the past.

i also got the idea that this could have been somes sort of vision. so.. do with that what you will. with this being you shifting, that possiblty, it could say you are some sort of spiritual guide for someone. the previous interpretations apply. i hope this helps you, and if you have any other like... info? like even if its graphic, i would love to hear it so we can try to figure it out!

love u anon!

[timotey]

Ficlet: Like Back Then Again

The Sign. Yai & Tharn. Missing scene from ep 6. Discussion of deep depression. Unbeta'd.

Yai just knows that there's something going on.

(I loved the little details about Tharn that ep 6 revealed. Ergo, a fic happened. Tadaaaa! 👐🏻)

***

“Yai?” Tharn blinks, all puzzled, when he opens the door of his condo and finds his childhood friend standing there, a box full of beer in one hand.

Without waiting for an invitation, Yai barges in. “My wife is out on the town with her posse, most likely doing things that I don't want to know or think about. So, it’s your duty as my bro to entertain me.” He dumps the box on the kitchen counter, the bottles rattle loudly, and grabbing one, he sprawls on the couch comfortably.

Tharn blinks again, puzzled by this logic. “O-kay?” he rather asks than says and closes the door softly.

“Have one!” Yai invites him, opening his bottle with a pop and taking a swig.

Tharn obliges, though he doesn’t really feel like drinking, and sits down on the other end of the couch, pressing himself into the corner and pulling his knees to his chest. He doesn’t open his bottle, just rolls it in his hand, studying its colorful label without truly seeing it. He looks very tired.

Yai watches him with narrowed eyes for a moment, then, after another swig of beer, he says briskly, “Okay, brother, what’s going on? Spill. For days now, you’ve been really… weird. I mean, weirder than usual, you know?”

Tharn glances at him sideways, then starts peeling the label off the bottle, bit by bit, pretending to fully focus on this task. “I have no idea what you mean,” he mumbles.

Yai rolls his eyes. “Dude! It’s me.” He jabs himself in the chest with his thumb. “If you can’t talk to me, then to who? Did something happen? With Phaya? Or?” he presses on relentlessly because he knows, he just knows, that there’s something going on. And it’s not nosy curiosity driving him on but genuine concern for his best friend.

For a moment it seems like Tharn won’t answer. But then the label on his bottle rips and a crack in the wall that he surrounded himself with appears. “I hit him,” Tharn whispers, gripping the bottle with both of his hands and smoothing down the damaged label with his thumbs.

Yai frowns. “Who?”

Tharn swallows. “I hit Phaya. He had a row with the Doc and he kept pushing and pushing and I-I… I hit him.” His voice cracks a little and he swallows.

Silence. Yai just stares. Then, leaning forward, he sets his half-empty bottle down on the coffee table and turns to Tharn. Very softly, very gently he asks, “Tharn, what’s going on? Something’s the matter, I know it. Because you don’t go around punching people, not anyone, let alone the guy you have feelings for.”

Tharn keeps staring down at the unopened bottle in his hands, knees pulled up defensively. He’s not answering, not even to claim having no feelings for Phaya, but Yai’s determined to wait him out.

Swallowing hard again, Tharn tries to speak and fails, tries again and this time, “It’s… it’s starting to feel like back then… again. Things… and all.”

Back then. Tharn doesn’t need to elaborate. Yai still remembers ‘back then’, vividly so. Back then when Tharn’s love died, unexpectedly and nonsensically, and Tharn was swallowed by a pit of depression so deep and dark that Yai feared he would never find his way out again.

Taking a deep breath, Yai clenches his hands tight, so tight that his knuckles turn white, but his voice is calm when he asks, “How bad?”

Tharn still doesn’t look at him. “Not as bad, I can manage,” he mutters lamely.

But Yai frowns. “No, Tharn, you don’t ‘manage’ this, not this,” he says kindly but firmly. “You gave me your word back then that if you ever started feeling like that again, you would seek help. And I am holding you to that promise, brother.”

Tharn hunches his shoulders a little as if guilt rested heavily on them.

But Yai won’t back down, not on this. Because he doesn’t want to see Tharn suffer like that again, he doesn’t want to go to bed every night, fearing that Tharn won’t be there anymore when he wakes up. Those memories still give him the chills.

“Maybe it would be a good idea to go back to therapy,” Yai suggests. “You know that Doc Chalothon would make time for you, always, for you.”

Tharn cringes a little. “I’m not so sure it would be such a good idea. To have him as my therapist again, considering…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Yai does it for him. “Considering your crush hates his guts for some unfathomable reason?”

Tharn waves his hand a little instead of answering but it’s an answer in itself.

“Fine,” Yai says. “Then find another therapist.”

Frowning, Tharn protests, “But that would probably hurt Doctor Chalothon’s feelings and–”

But Yai cuts him off, “Fuck him.” 

This time Tharn does look at him, startled.

“You heard me,” Yai says. “I like the Doc, he’s done marvels for you back then and I will be forever grateful to him for that. But fuck him. And fuck Phaya, too, even though I am convinced he would be good for you, that he would make you really happy. But fuck him too. This isn’t about them. It’s about you. What you need.”

“It’s not that simple…” Tharn whispers, looking at him with eyes that seem way too dull and lifeless.

“Yeah, yeah it is!” Yai snaps harshly. “You want to go back to therapy with the Doc? Then go for it. You want to find someone else? Then do. I will help you. We can look up someone right now.”

Tharn lowers his eyes again. Something in Yai’s chest hitches. He and Tharn are almost the same height yet Tharn’s always felt somehow smaller to him. But right now, right now he feels almost insubstantial to Yai, like he’s fading, and it’s scaring the shit out of Yai.

He scoots closer on the couch. “Look, if you feel put under pressure, I’ll run interference for you,” Yai offers, leaning down to catch Tharn’s eyes. “I’ll go to the Doc and explain the situation to him. Hell, I’ll talk to Phaya for you and tell him to back the fuck off for a while. Anything, Tharn, you know that.”

Tharn finally looks up again, smiles a little. “Yeah, I do.”

Yai relaxes just a fraction. He reaches out and pulls Tharn into an one-armed hug. Tharn lets him, leaning heavily against Yai who can almost feel Tharn’s bone-deep exhaustion now. It breaks his heart a little.

“It’s just all too much,” Tharn admits quietly, closing his eyes.

Yai hugs him tight, wrapping both arms around Tharn. “It’s going to be alright, brother,” he says. “We will deal with this. I know that. Just lean on me and we will kick this thing in the ass.”

Releasing a deep, shuddery breath, Tharn allows himself to relax, pent-up tension flowing out of his body, leaving him feeling all boneless and loose. “Okay,” he says. “Alright, we can do that.”

And Yai nods fiercely. “Of course we can. Trust me!”

[mariana-oconnor]

Thor Bridge pt 3

Back to the Gold King again.

But first we have to go and see the young governess who he claims thinks she can fix him.

I had expected from all that we had heard to see a beautiful woman, but I can never forget the effect which Miss Dunbar produced upon me. It was no wonder that even the masterful millionaire had found in her something more powerful than himself—something which could control and guide him.

Watson, rein it in, she's been a victim of sexual harassment from her employer and she's now in jail for allegedly murdering his wife. There is a time and a place for your horniness, now is not it. But, I suppose, at least you are consistent.

"After seeing you, I am prepared to accept Mr. Gibson's statement both as to the influence which you had over him and as to the innocence of your relations with him."

I really hope that this is because of an indent on the little finger of her left hand and a shiny patch on the inside of her elbow, because if this is just because she's pretty, Holmes, then I am disappoint.

"I would not wish to wrong her, but she loved so vividly in a physical sense that she could hardly understand the mental, and even spiritual, tie which held her husband to me, or imagine that it was only my desire to influence his power to good ends which kept me under his roof."

Oh boy, she's really believing the nonsense, huh? Sure, you have a mental and spiritual bond. I'm sure his intentions are entirely chaste. Yup, yuhuh.

"I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is certain that the unhappiness would have remained even if I had left the house.”

Which means the only thing gained by you staying was your own unhappiness. So that was pointless. But yes, you should absolutely have left and not tried to use your married employer's crush on you to manipulate his actions. Like, I get that you were trying to do something good, and I understand you're a victim in all of this, but that was still a bad idea.

"I saw no reason for such secrecy, but I did as she asked, accepting the appointment. She asked me to destroy her note and I burned it in the schoolroom grate."

Oh boy. Always keep the receipts. You were being framed so hard.

"Never did I realize till that moment how this poor creature hated me. She was like a mad woman—indeed, I think she was a mad woman, subtly mad with the deep power of deception which insane people may have. How else could she have met me with unconcern every day and yet had so raging a hatred of me in her heart?"

Yeah, little weird that the person we have been repeatedly assured was incredibly emotional and open about her emotions somehow managed to smother them to that extent on a daily basis until this point. Almost like there was some catalyst for her outburst (or this is a lie).

“Mr. Gibson is a very strong, self-contained man. I do not think that he would ever show his emotions on the surface. But I, who knew him so well, could see that he was deeply concerned.”

The more you talk about him, the more I think you were taken in by him. You're being very nice about the man...

“It could only have been at meal-time, or else at the hours when I would be in the schoolroom with the children.”

So... almost any time of day then?

It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem, so that more than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him of the fact.

I mean, you killed a dog that one time. But usually he sort of... hits people himself? This feels like revisionist history. Holmes once bent a poker back to being straight.

“Do you know, Watson,” said he, “I believe your revolver is going to have a very intimate connection with the mystery which we are investigating.” “My dear Holmes, you are joking.”

Is Holmes about to throw Watson's revolver into a river?

“It all depends upon the behaviour of Dr. Watson's revolver,” said my friend. “Here it is. Now, officer, can you give me ten yards of string?” The village shop provided a ball of stout twine.

Well Watson's revolver is definitely going to be thrown somewhere.

Watson, why do you trust him with your things?

At the words he raised the pistol to his head, and then let go his grip. In an instant it had been whisked away by the weight of the stone, had struck with a sharp crack against the parapet, and had vanished over the side into the water.

🤣😂🤣

Bye bye, revolver!

You will also find beside it the revolver, string and weight with which this vindictive woman attempted to disguise her own crime and to fasten a charge of murder upon an innocent victim.

So the wife committed suicide to frame the governess for her death because she was jealous about her abusive husband? That's... utterly nonsensical of her.

Should have killed the governess and framed the husband (I mean, no, she shouldn't have, but it would have been a better plan).

Oh god. Oh no. Oh fuck me no. This is going to end with Miss Dunbar marrying the Gold King in order to fix him, isn't it? Isn't it?

I hate everything about that.

No doubt she blamed this innocent lady for all those harsh dealings and unkind words with which her husband tried to repel her too demonstrative affection. Her first resolution was to end her own life. Her second was to do it in such a way as to involve her victim in a fate which was worse far than any sudden death could be.

So the guy abuses his possibly already mentally ill wife to a point where she considers suicide the only way out? And she blames the other woman completely and not her husband. And Miss Dunbar isn't exactly blameless, using the guy's crush on her to her own ends, however altruistic they may be.

Just a whole lot of nope.

"Well, Watson, we have helped a remarkable woman, and also a formidable man. Should they in the future join their forces, as seems not unlikely, the financial world may find that Mr. Neil Gibson has learned something in that schoolroom of sorrow where our earthly lessons are taught.”

Just no. Just no... That poor woman. And yeah, what she did sucked. But what the actual fuck. Fuck everyone, honestly. None of this ended well. I hate it all.

Happily ever after because the love of a good (~British~) woman will change him and make everything from now on sunflowers and daisy chains. And no thought to the children who lost their mother or the fact that abusive partners can't just be 'fixed' and he's absolutely going to abuse his next partner when she doesn't live up to his standards. They're just going to be in this horrific manipulative relationship and the children are going to be trapped with them.

No thank you. This is not what I ordered.

But I did appreciate Watson's revolver taking a bath. Nice moment of comedy in amongst all the nonsense.

[cornucopiawrites]

(Image Source: https://x.com/Asaki_illust/status/1746331831774130671?s=20)

You've been going to this other coffee house ever since your usual spot got shut down. There was a devil attack — Bat Devil, allegedly — that blew through the place, tearing massive holes in opposite walls, completely messing up the kitchen. It was shut down for repairs, and never went back in business. Thing is: you knew the owner. And they were getting up-there in age, so more than likely they managed to swindle the insurance money and call it a career. Not a bad ending for them, but you were forced to find a new spot. And this one just wasn't the same. It wasn't just the pastries and drinks you missed. Weird as it sounds, you missed the waiting. In line. At the counter. With others. The coffee house crowd. It was the same people every day, getting their morning coffee and snack. Much like you, sure, but with their own lives. You never knew them, obviously — you all just talked about the weather, latest headlines, the seasonal flu, and other benign things. The familiarity ran so deep, you knew several of their every-day orders by heart. Not a single one of you ever exchanged names, business cards, or anything. And at this new spot, you found yourself deeply regretting your time at the old spot. You vividly remember so many faces, and they may as well be dead now. Well, lately, there's been a new lady at the new spot. She's got pasty skin, is dressed in a suit, and basically looks like everyone else. You just know her because you're so often beside her, for roughly seven minutes each day. You deduce your commutes are somehow in-sync, since you always wind up adjacent to one-another in line. Occasionally — occasionally — you wind up a person or two apart. Or one of you doesn't show. Oh, there are a few things you noticed about her: her hair's usually in this braided ponytail kind of thing, she likes to wear bulky suit coats, she tends to miss a spot of dog hair on the back of those coats, and she never gets coffee, just tea. It's usually one of the shop's herbal blends. Oh, and you couldn't help but notice her eyes. Bright, yellow, unusual. Hard to get a decent look — you don't want to get caught staring. Again, you're standing beside one another. Walking together as the queue moves, but obviously separate. She senses you glancing at her, but doesn't look. You sense her side-eye, but pretend not to notice at all. You shuffle forward. Then again. Finally, you've had enough. "What're you going to get?" You see her flinch, as though you yelled in her ear. Frankly, you have no idea why you asked that anyway. You already know what she gets. Everyday. It's the same thing: tea and—

"Sorry, were you talking to me?"

"Yeah." It worked in your school days, at lunch. Why wouldn't it work today? "I said: what're you going to get?"

The lady blinks. "Me? What am I going to get?"

"Yeah." And after an odd pause: "I get a coffee, with espresso and lots of cream. And a bagel with jam." You need the big caffeine hit, and the calories to offset the shakes you'd get.

"Oh," she says, "um, green tea and a raspberry scone?"

(Why'd she phrase it like a question?)

"Tea? No coffee for you?"

She shakes her head and offers a smile. "My stomach doesn't like it. Too much caffeine, maybe."

"Maybe."

You're not sure what to say next. And neither is she, but she really hopes you do. Her eyes are kinda freaky, looking at you with such attention. Like she's eagerly waiting for something. It's like — anticipation, but tired?

Damn, you're almost at the counter.

"I'm Jun." (You're not Jun.)

"And I am Izumi." (And she is not Izumi. You can tell because she had to think about it.)

"Izumi" takes her order. She gestures for you to come forward. But—

"Oh, no. You don't need to do that for me."

"Maybe," she offers, "you can get mine next time?"

That's fair. And it makes you smile. And she's smiling.

Now what?

"Have you been coming here long?"

Oh, she's taken the lead! You're not complaining.

"About a month, maybe two. I notice you've started becoming a regular here."

She nods, looking outside. "The place I always went to was destroyed." Back at you. "It was a devil attack. I think it was on the news."

From the counter, you both hear, "Izumi? Jun?"

You're both heading outside now. She's looking down at the sidewalk. You say, "that's a coincidence."

"What is?"

"The place I went to was also taken down by a devil."

She nearly sighs. "That's not a very big coincidence these days, though. Is it?"

You shrug and gloomily admit, "that's true. That's true."

It would be a bummer if your first conversation with "Izumi" ended on this note, so you quickly ask, "are the scones any good?"

"I like them, yes. Raspberry's my favorite."

She takes a bite of the fresh pastry, and takes a sip from her disposable cup. Lifting her finger off the cup sleeve, she points to your breakfast.

"You know, I don't think I have had any of their bagels yet."

"Really? They're alright."

The two of you look at one another, then at the other's food, then at your own food. You tear half your bagel off. She does the same to her scone. You take one another's offerings. And you both have a stupid smile on your faces.

"I'll let you know what I think, Jun," Izumi promises, turning to walk away. "I have to get going now."

"I'll see you tomorrow," you answer, "right, Izumi?"

For whatever reason, you don't look to see her nod. She's a fleeting thought, quickly replaced by matters of the day ahead. And you know that for her, you're no different.

The raspberry scone is alright. Not as filling as the bagel.

Yet you're aware that, later this evening, as you're readying yourself for bed, you'll feel that tempered eagerness about the following morning.

It might even keep you up, for just a bit.

Maybe — it'll keep her up, too?