#this shit so fucking dense that i'm DROWNING IN IT what the fuck is wrong with

[atlaswav]

METAMORPHOSIS ☾

INFO: 2246 words, kafka x gn! reader SYNOPSIS: The threads of fate were never to be interpreted by the senses of mortals, and you pay the price. An extravagant cage, or a slave to destiny? You play your part like the puppet you learned to be, with Kafka serving as your lesson to maintain the realm between art and the artist. You, the Frankenstein's monster of fate's mistakes, and Kafka, the one who sees everlasting beauty in you. WARNINGS: uh nothing really except angst ig and REALLY FUCKING DENSE PROSE good luck reading allat bc i'm not reading what I wrote again LMFAO. this is gonna flop bc it's too complicated rip AUTHOR'S NOTE: NOT PROOFREAD BC ITS CURRENTLY 3:30AM AND IM DELIRIOUS. This was intended to be a weird character study but it turned self indulgent REAL quick i hate it sofuckingmuch YIPEEE!!! likes and reblogs are appreciated i'll give u a fat sloppy kiss.

Art governs the world, as Kafka says.

The world is governed by its artists. Formed by the hands of sculptors, decorated with grandeur by its musicians and dancers, yet art runs far deeper than these meticulous displays. Art is present in all. It allows life to be breathed into the mundane, allows men to understand their souls – the contours of their being, the purity and refinement of their essence. It allows for the soul to become honed as sharp and pedantic as one’s craft, etching the outline of an artist’s life.

Art allows man to discover and become familiar with themselves, and hence becomes a vehicle for all those yearning for greatness to have their wishes fulfilled. Thus, art is mistaken as a noble practice, each misshapen line of a paintbrush burdened with the virtue it cannot promise. Yet art may not be as noble as what meets the eye, with its breath shaping each whisper of life. As there is an art to all, there can only be balance. Shrouded with the curse of mortality and death, the act of stealing life becomes an art as well. Dark and taboo, but an art nonetheless. 

Killing becomes an art, each spray of blood the artist’s signature, each cut, bruise and scar carrying the same reverberations as the splash of paint on a blank canvas. It could never be replicated, even if the artist’s eye was the most honed at their craft. Done right, killing could be beautiful, and death could be revered. It was a mantra for all she did – Kafka, the absurd devotee to all that was beautiful, perpetually in pursuit of beauty and purpose. 

Beauty, she thought, was the hierophant of art in itself. Though this may present a causality dilemma in all art mirroring beauty and beauty ever present in art, she believed that beauty would reign triumphant. To her, it was a sanctimonious practice that would rule out of presence alone, but instead of interpreting the beauty of the world, she craved to find beauty for herself. Selfish to no end, but what were humans if not selfish?

Many thought she was mad. That her self imposed quest was futile, and she’d return tasting bitter disappointment sickly on her tongue. Her self imposed quest was woven into her being, the thread that perpetuated her fate and directed her to Elio. The thread that gloriously pulled her towards you. 

Were you art, or the artist? Were you the creator, or the created? The all knowing maker or the grotesquely beautiful creation? She couldn’t tell. It was trivial. Did it matter? No, it didn’t. You were beautiful to her – the embodiment of all she believed to ring virtuous and true. Causality dilemma as you may be, you remained unshaken by the wiles of fate.

“How did Elio get you?” were her first words to you. 

Composed of fragments of dreams and broken flesh, you appeared in front of her. Stricken by a plight of existence, but beautiful, still. A Frankenstein's monster of beauty and decay. “He didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I came to him.”

Curiosity flashed in those eyes of honeyed wine. “What reason would someone like you have to enslave yourself to fate?”

In turn, you smiled at her. “Fate will tell, will it not?”

Fate strung its threads across your body in a pattern of knots so ravishingly complex. Your fate, ambiguous to all but Elio, it seemed, wrapped around you in the most tragic and delightful way, she couldn’t resist tangling herself with you; tracing her gloved hands along your bindings, losing herself in the rumination of possibility. The rumination that she once would’ve scoffed at for being so wishful. 

You didn’t know what you did to her.

“Is it time already?” she rose from her position, glancing down at the unconscious man beside you, oblivious to your presence. Blade was barely conscious, drifting in and out of the hypnotic state Kafka had induced on him. 

“Looks like it. Elio’s never wrong.” you reply.

“Are you nervous?”

“Why would I be? Did Elio mention anything about danger?”

Her laugh is musical. “The trailblazer hasn’t met you yet.”

“I’m excited to make their acquaintance, then, if they’re as interesting as you suggest.”

Kafka smiled, slipping through the doorway of the makeshift abode with a fleeting glance. Fleeting glances, furtive touches, whispered words. That’s what the thin bond stringing you together consisted of. Neither of you let the other linger for too long, so help the stain that you’d inevitably leave. You were the substance she wanted to get blissfully drunk on, yet you were far too beautiful to squander on such menial things. In turn, she was the overture that haunted your dreams, yet disappeared once the score came into view.

Some things were best left at a distance, the careful and prudent restriction promising preservation. 

With a laugh to none but yourself, you followed her from a distance just beyond arm’s reach. You realised you would follow her to whatever end she led you to. You’d let her lead you to desolation, because you trusted she’d restore what she called your ‘beauty’ once again. You trusted her cunning eye – the eye of the artist – to watch you become derelict, and to salvage what could be saved from the shards of your remains. 

The trailblazer had the same eyes that Kafka had – willful and shrewd – yet determination sat at the forefront instead of the tinge of deadly curiosity Kafka held. 

“Who are you?” the trailblazer questioned, eyes flickering between the two of you. Two questions spent, one left.

“I used to be a knight of beauty.” a faint glimmer in her eye as she smiles towards you. “We worshipped Idrila, the Aeon of Beauty. We vowed to guard their beauty with the sword, but one day they suddenly disappeared.”

The trailblazer appeared to be conflicted, gaze darting back and forth between the two of you. “And you?”

“I am the interpreter of the cosmos.” Kafka’s amusement is undeniable. Her lie doesn’t escape you as you weave a web with the string she provided. Playing her game as intended. “The stars ordain their prophecy, and I interpret them into coherent events that mortals are able to comprehend.”

The trailblazer says nothing. The best lies are moulded from dregs of the truth, as she’d taught you.

“What’s your last question?” Kafka asks. 

“What are you two?”

Very few times you’ve seen Kafka taken by surprise. The woman blinks. 

“Kafka is an artist.” you respond in her stead as she scoffs at your answer.

“Then you are the wanderer above the sea of fog.”

Full of riddles, always. She could never give anyone a straight answer. Why would she? She was the artist, forever touched by the calamitous effect of your being.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” The trailblazer frowns.

Kafka laughs in delight. If you could store the sound in your heart, surviving from its pure, unbridled mirth, you would. “Everything leads to the answer eventually. There’s only the illusion of being lost.”

“Quit being cryptic.”

“The future is a labyrinth. Divergences are merely inducements. There is only one true path. You only have to know how to look.” A smile plays across her lips as she gestures towards you. “And I have my looking glass.”

—

If beauty was present in all art, you failed to find the art in deceit. Morally, its falsehoods nurtured the true nature of humankind, yet the guilt that followed in tandem with this practice ate away at the disposition like rotting flesh in the maw of a rabid beast. 

Elio had revealed his plans to you – your script to act out – and you’d shied away in cowardice. Or could it be seen as self preservation? Where was the line between cowardice and preservation? Surely, you walked across it with fear of teetering to one side. There’d been no deceit on your part until this very moment, the illusion of what you’d had finally facing the denouement. 

You so desperately wanted to continue living this beautiful farce with Kafka, but there were other plains written in the stars. 

“Kafka?”

“I’m here.”

“Tell me a lie.” 

“A lie?” 

You frowned, gazing up at the stars. The infinite, perpetually changing stars that voiced their teachings to you with whispers unheard to ears but your own. If it was in Elio’s script, you’d play your part, no matter the height of the fall. Such was your deal with Elio – your shackles in exchange for an extravagant cage. “Yes.”

“Why would I do that?” she asks, leaning against the railing of the balcony. Another city, another task to fulfil via Elio’s requests. Did they ever end? It was a foolish question to ponder. 

“Your lies are pretty. I could get blissfully drunk on them.” your eyes reflect the cosmos in them, and as Kafka leans in closer, you shut your eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

You laugh, palm outstretched in front of you as if to gather the galaxy in your fist and force the fate of the world out of its grasp. “You lie so often that it’s the only constant I can find, anymore.”

She pauses. She’s sure you can feel her body tense beside you. “...Don’t tell me.”

“Lie to me, Kafka.” you close your eyes, leaning against her shoulder as the stars gaze down at you. She remains still. 

“I can’t. Did Elio put you up to this?”

“Why not?” Your avoidance of her question only makes her even more wary. 

“I’ll feel guilty.” she pouts, her light tone an attempt to alleviate the atmosphere, but you turn to face her completely. 

“Kafka, I’m in love with you.”

Silence hung rigid in the air as the stars sang their lonely hymn, their finale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Kafka, the picture of stoicism – the unmoving sword in the stone – was torn. Her facade of cold, amused indifference had shattered, leaving a demeanour that betrayed her emotions, now written clear across her face. You turned away. 

Two stars, born of the same nebula, yet suffering far different fates from one another. Your star burnt far too brightly, while hers shone with cold light that you relished in. Your star would soon wink out, your death a destruction unbeknownst and insignificant to many, yet cataclysmic for one.

Deceit was necessary, or so Elio had told you, for Kafka’s resolve to steel. For her to become the character he needed to execute his script.

So, you supposed, as there was an art in Kafka’s beautiful lies, there was beauty in deceit. A beauty of sacrifice to set Kafka’s beauty etched into time, while you burned away in the depths of history. 

The wanderer above the sea of fog, and the artist that could only appraise its beauty. The two realms far too separate for the artist to reach out and stop the hand that tore the canvas with a blunt knife. 

“Was that a lie?” Kafka asks, voice distant as the look in her eyes. 

“I couldn’t lie to you.” the words spill out like a wound torn open. Rehearsed, and performed like the slave to destiny you became. It repulsed you. You wanted to rip your tongue out. 

“You can’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do this.” she meets your eyes. Pleading, almost. The Kafka you know never pleads – but the thread between you is stretched taut, and the three fates lie in wait. 

“Tell me a lie, please.” you step closer. She steps back, expression carefully blank. “Tell me you hate me. Tell me you despise the air I breathe. Tell me that the beauty that you see in me is unfading.”

“Stop.” her gloved hands rest on your shoulders. Delicate, as if you’re a statue that she sculpted herself. 

“Kafka, please.”

“Enough.” She releases her hold, turning away from you. “Goodnight.”

The art must be separated from the artist, or so Elio had claimed. You were the grotesque creation, and she was the artist with unbridled curiosity. Your mere touch was poisonous to her, Elio claimed – he claimed many things, and you wanted to scream at him, to tear the tapestry of destiny apart with your bare hands, but he gave you a choice. 

Though a life as destiny’s slave was demanding, life as an orchestrator of the most beautiful catastrophe sounded far more enticing – morbidly so. 

Kafka was the artist in perpetual pursuit of all things beautiful, and you could think of no entity more beautiful than the tragic story of your own satirical tragedy. 

Elio handed you the options, and you tugged at the thread lined with gold, cajoled with fables of love and artistry. The world fell silent around you as you stepped into the role of the artist, commanding the orchestra with a baton of bones. Cold, unfeeling. Such should be the shape of your soul, as your art demanded. 

Art aids mankind in discovering the contours of their soul. Yours just so happened to be the missing star in the sky. A tale of destruction unknown to any other except the star burning blindingly bright beside you, mourning. 

You, the monster of art, pressed too close to the artist, and now you were marked with lacerations none could erase. Kafka’s sword found its mark through your heart, and blood sprayed onto the floor in a flourish of red. The artist’s signature. 

“I can’t lie to you anymore.” 

And so the star burned brighter.

written by @atlaswav , published 17th of January 2024

[hyuccubus]

Writer Q&A Tag Game!

Tagged by the cool+radical @cheetoflavoredpasta!

1. What motivates you to write?

I'm in a unique position to answer that with a snippet from Target Practice, because it's practically what keeps me going.

People in things I like always have something to say. Profound, deep things that make me think about how I live my life, or change how I make decisions, or what I do, or even how I think. They don't need big words to move me. I want to say something like that before my life is over. I want someone to hear it, or read it, and their life to change because of me. I want to be the first domino that crashes right through the life of someone who needs it, so they can pass it on to someone, and they might pass it on to two people, and then I'll have been something.  I'll have a whole pile of people that I changed, in a good way.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

This comes after a particularly harsh twist that closes out Book 1. I am so proud of what is said here that I can't help but want to share it, though:

“Love?’ she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming and then saying nothing.

“Huh?” I managed to mutter, confused at that being what she’d taken away.

“That’s what you think you felt for her? Love?”

“Ira, I don’t-”

“Let me tell you something." When she spoke that threatening line, she was up on her feet with the agility years of martial arts had granted her, those strong hands that had saved me from drowning now gripping my shirt with white-knuckle fury. She yanked me close, so close that my eyes couldn’t possibly avoid those hazel irises, smoky in the dusk sun. “You don’t know a fucking thing about what it’s like to love a woman who didn’t birth you, you dense motherfucker. You wanted someone to validate you. Someone to help you believe that you have value, that you matter. You wanted to use her, and who was I to say anything? Doing something physical to a woman without her consent isn’t the only way you can use her, so you can feel bad about what I’m saying all you want, but you can’t pretend I'm wrong. I could see it in your eyes, Swift. I could see it in the way you let her walk behind you, in the way you didn’t make sure she was eating well, in the way you tried to impress her before you really knew her. You didn't care how she was feeling, you just wanted to know how she was feeling about you. And if you had the chance to go through with what you felt for her, maybe act out your little fairy-tale romance, she would have gotten sick of you always wondering how she felt about you, always absorbed in your own impossible fantasy. And you would have had the nerve to tell her she broke your heart when she told you so. That’s all men like you do, before you know any fucking better. You think you’re so special, so unique, that you’re above making a juvenile mistake like that. All we can do is hope you learn something when it does happen, rather than hoping it doesn’t happen at all. All you’d do if I told you was rebel against me, and then end up hurting her anyway. So don't say that shit to me. Don't talk about love. Just don't.”

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Definitely dialogue. I don't do much worldbuilding in the way so many of my peers that write fantasy do, and settings end up being the backdrop for the character interactions that really satisfy my writer's itch. I do take pride in the way my prose flows sometimes, I've developed a style I'm quite proud of, and I think I can only get better with time.

6. What do you enjoy most about the Writeblr community?

Everyone seems equally as invested in the art of creation as the results of that passion. It's a unique perspective I really value, as well as it feeling a little more tight-knit than Twitter, where I immigrated from.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I'm gonna cheat here, I couldn't write without a music player, silence is like kryptonite for my flow. I will say, I switched to Obsidian, and it's really helped my focus, since I was using Google Docs before that and the urge to click off to another piece of internet was always high. ... that still happens when I'm doing research, though...

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

This is such a silly, inconsequential detail, but idk I love it

...There was a boy playing NavBall with another friend of his, pinching his fingers together over the display of his NavWrist and letting the projected ball fly as if out of a catapult, disappearing outside the radius of his unit to land in a projected target on his friend’s.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

The bad feelings always go away. Whether it's a battle with impostor syndrome you feel like you can't win, or a fear that your writing will never be noticed, nevermind hated, or a block you can't seem to escape from, it all goes away if you give it time. If you give up, if you ball up that paper or delete that file in an impassioned moment of despair, you don't get that time back. You don't stop caring about it. So take a breath, have a snack, take a walk, grab a shower, and let the bad feelings see themselves out. And then, keep trying 💜

Tagging some new folks I've gotten to know at the writblr-cafe! @the-down-upside-finch @hippiewrites @lexiklecksi, and anyone else who wants to participate, feel free to use this!

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the epi? I thought it was a good episode overall. Serkan is acting the way I thought he would: he wants to be the perfect Dad, is scared she won't love him, is spoiling her but also teaching her things. I'm not quite sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, maybe she needs time to adjust to calling him that. I have mixed emotions when it comes to the way Eda spied on Serkan. I understand she's worried but trust the man a little. No comments on Aydan and Ayfer! They are too much!

Hello! I liked the episode. It felt very light, very romcom-y and I thought it was very enjoyable to watch. Loved every minute of Serkan trying to be the ideal dad and I'm here for the Edser UST this ep brought. They want each other sooooo much. And, yes, Eda wants him, she wants him bad. I thought the custody thing at the end was silly and convoluted, but, hey, I'm totally here for the "they're not together and fighting their feelings, but forced to live together" trope so I will just ignore how unbelievable it would be for Edser to be drowning in hearteyes for each other all ep, getting along in regards to Kiraz, AND seemingly aware that Aydan/Ayfer were up to something and still allow a misunderstanding over their shenanigans to spiral to that nonsense degree.

Maybe the folks that think that Serkan & Eda were playing all the meddling family and friends are right, and they set it up beforehand, it's just that I've thought things were a fake out on this show so many times, only for them to be real, so at this point I'm operating under the assumption that this is just a romcom plot point to throw our romantic leads together and it's not worth examining it too closely.

I'll give my thoughts on the "Baba" vs "Serkan Bolat" thing and Eda's actions after we talk a bit about the B, C and D players... Thankfully we had plenty of Edser and Kiraz screen time this ep so the supporting stories didn't overwhelm the episode too much.

(much more under the cut)

That being said, who can we pay to get these people to mind their own f-cking business? LMAO. At least Engin and Piril weren't annoying and were actually trying to be helpful. I mean, Piril is still cancelled, but if she's not causing trouble now then she's not at the top of my shit list. However, I did laugh at her when she's sort of pleading with Serkan: "We've been friends for a long time, you'll understand why I did this." Um... what, Piril? You're sitting there approximately 72 hours after Serkan found out he has a child and he's already proven that he's ALL IN on being a father, and you expect Serkan to think you were right for hiding it from him? Cause why? He has already proven that any concerns you had about him rejecting Kiraz were invalid. The only thing wrong with Serkan's anger at Piril is that it will probably only last for that scene.

Anyone else think Kerem the assistant is an ass? Seriously, do they really want us to root for sweet Pina to be with this dickweasel? He's insecure, he thinks he knows it all, he's snarky and lashes out, he's vindictive. No thanks.

As for Aydan and Ayfer. Ooph. As punishment for their unprecedented assery this episode they both need to be stranded on a desert island with only each other. Only then maybe they'll learn not to insert themselves by such underhanded means. They're both giant pains in the ass, but Ayfer still annoys me more than Aydan. Because here's the thing, once Edser is back together and Serkan is happy, Aydan will fully embrace Eda again, but I don't think the same can be said for Ayfer. Did you see some of the bitchy, sour faces Ayfer was making, taunting Eda about her soft spot for Serkan. She's insufferable.

Turning to the nonsense meddling custody plot line, Kemal and Seyfi were just following orders, but what is Melo's excuse? It's unfortunate that the narrative pulled her into this. Ayfer may have her head in the sand, and not really care what Eda wants, but Melo does and she knew that Eda wanted to cooperate with Serkan and bring him into Kiraz's life, she knew that Eda was about 2 seconds from melting every time she was near Serkan, and that they were likely on the cusp of rekindling their relationship. There is no way she should have been complicit in trying to get evidence against Serkan or visiting lawyers behind Eda's back.

However, even after being complicit in Ayfer's nonsense, she still deserves a helluva lot better than Burak. That guy was annoying af this episode. What exactly does he think he's doing? I'm sorry, in that situation you step back and give the people going through such a monumental life change some space. Again, it's not like it needs to be forever, but you don't try and monopolize the kid's time the night of and 2 days after she meets her long-lost father. He needs to fuck all he way off.

Also since Eda had no interest in this guy, why is he coming over to tuck in the kid EVERY night? I get that he's been good to Kiraz and they have a nice relationship, but that's soooo overkill, it's just not normal. Especially since they've said they've only been living there a year. The only reason for a dude to revolve his entire life around a kid like that is because he's actively trying to get in the mom's pants. So when it comes to Burak's intentions, Eda is as dense as Serkan used to be with Balca/Selin/Actress. Burak only took that level of interest and inserted himself into their lives because he wanted Eda, and Eda should realize that and have a frank conversation with him. Eda doesn't even have to be cognizant that she will inevitably get back together with Serkan, she already knows she has no interest in Burak. She should tell him. And if she's already told him (which it seems she might have from her comments to Ayfer and Melo) she should put some boundaries in place because his presence was ridiculous.

It still blows my mind that this sad sack thinks he has a shot with Eda. Seriously, while the dude isn't hideous, he's also not attractive and he has the personality of dead grass coupled with the charisma of warm mayonnaise. He's not worthy of either Eda or Melo. The scene of Melo and Burak walking on the beach made me a bit uncomfortable. They're totally setting that relationship up, but so far all we see is Melo obviously harboring feelings for him as Burak broods over his Eda delusions. We'll have to see how this plays out, but I feel like Burak didn't need to be this upset over Eda for the story to work, and it would be a lot easier to root for him with Melo if by episode 5 if he wasn't still actively trying, as Engin said, to take over Serkan's family.

On to Edser and the newly forming Bolat family unit. It's funny, I'm not someone who thinks a woman needs to take her husband's last name, I think people should do whatever they want, but for whatever reason I really, really want Eda and Kiraz to have his name. Maybe because I think they all crave having people to belong to in a sense. Serkan because he was unloved and sent overseas alone at such a young age, Eda because she was an orphan, Kiraz because she didn't have a dad in early childhood. So for that reason, I really do feel like it will be meaningful to have them tied together that way as a family unit. They belong to each other now (or they will soon).

Along those lines, you say you're not sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, narratively, I think it's because that will be a big milestone in their relationship. When she feels comfortable enough, connected enough, and secure enough with him to do that, it's going to melt all of our hearts right out of our chests. If she'd done it right away it wouldn't feel as special as it's going to feel when it eventually happens because she feels it (not just because it's a fact).

As for her calling him Serkan Bolat, I think it's adorable. That's how she knew him before, it would be weird if she called him anything other than that or Baba, (like Serkan or Abi) because then it would be like she was settling on that, but calling him by his full name, which is such a part of his identity, is cute and charming and pays tribute to the interactions they had before they knew of their relationship, and it's a signal that it's only temporary. Baba is coming, don't worry.

Loved Kiraz showing Serkan her room and all of her things, and really loved Eda standing there, smiling, soaking it in. I've seen a lot of criticism of Eda in this episode and she did have a few moments that were unnecessarily harsh, but I think it's also valid to give her a minute to adjust because this is a lot of change in just a couple of days. While she now knows Serkan had understandable, and even noble, reasons for what he did and said, that still doesn't erase the heartbreak and pain he put her through, or the 5 years of being a single mother and not having anyone to consult or needing to consult anyone on decisions regarding Kiraz.

I do think, though, that we didn't see Eda give him enough credit when he covered for her lies to Kiraz. When Kiraz asked her why she didn't tell her Serkan Bolat was her father and then asked him when mom didn't answer, he could have easily told the truth and thrown Eda under the bus, big time, but instead he comes up with something that passes as an explanation, doesn't make anyone a villain, but also doesn't make him look great. I wish we'd seen Eda recognize that. It was a magnanimous gesture on his part, since he and Kiraz were the ones who were lied to for 5 years.

However, her running a bit hot and cold this episode makes sense. On one hand when she's around him her heart feels that strong orbital pull towards him. She loves him. She always has loved him, she always will love him. Just like with Serkan, that will not change, and obviously didn't after heartbreak and separation. But it also makes sense that at times her head takes over and with it the fear and the memory of the pain and she freezes up a bit. It doesn't ding her or their love, she just needs time to let herself believe that this is really happening. That Serkan is back, that he still loves her, that he loves their daughter and wants to be a father and form a family. From the way she recorded those videos, how many times do we think she dreamed of them being a happy family together? I'm guessing a lot. Now it's within her grasp and I think she just needs to be sure that Serkan is for real before she fully succumbs to this dream.

She also needs to get over her pride, I'm sure there's a part of her (Ayfer's voice) telling her a woman doesn't go back to a man who hurt her that badly. But as we saw, girlfriend was snuggling with his shirt, she still has it so bad for him. But, pro tip, Eda, he wanted to stay the night, wouldn't it be so much more fulfilling to snuggle with the real thing? I promise it would... just let him in. The lawn scene was hilarious. Kerem is really and truly a gifted physical comedian. We know how tight the timelines are on this show and they don't get to do a lot of takes, but his stumbling over the furniture and falling was flawlessly done. Hande was great too... that bat! Of course the sexual tension in the robes and towel scene was magnificent. When she first walked in wearing that towell I thought my man was going to combust. That look on his face, priceless.

Speaking of priceless, what first-day Baba makes his little girl's dreams come true like Serkan Bolat does? Staying up all night to build her flying house? MY HEART!

What a fantastic first gift. It was incredibly thoughtful, it was meaningful to the two of them, and it was also Serkan giving a piece of himself (using his skills in what he does best as an architect) to her.

Absolute perfection.

And how sweet that Serkan wanted to spend the day with her alone!?! I really liked that because we all know he loves Eda, he wants Eda back, and he will use any excuse to spend time with Eda. And he could have done that here, but he doesn't. So the fact that he wanted to spend the day alone with Kiraz, clearly illustrates that his interest in Kiraz, his desire to be her father stands on it's own. Kiraz is not just an excuse to get close to Eda, he is pursuing both relationships, and they are both important to him.

Also you said that you have mixed emotions on the way Eda spied on Serkan, that she doesn't trust him, but honestly I really don't think it's about that. She might have been a little discombobulated by the idea because the man has never really spent any time with children and here he's thrust into fatherhood, but she trusts him and knows Kiraz is safe with him. Honestly, I think her biggest driving factor in following them is FOMO.

She doesn't want to miss this! She has wondered what kind of father he might be for years, and now she wants to witness it. She wants to be there and see what he's like when he's spending time with her. She also wants to be a part of it, and a part of her might be a little jealous. For years she's been the only parent, and now another parental bond is forming and it's natural she is curious what that's going to look like.

Melo even sees through her during their conversations while they're out spying. Eda pretends it's because she's worried that Serkan doesn't know what he's doing, but Melo susses out that it's really because she missed Serkan. I think she really just wanted to be a part of it.

And her ulterior motives are exposed when she reacts with jealousy over the park moms and then with Hulya. She's jealous over Serkan, but also over what it might mean if Serkan had a woman in his life that's not Eda. (Real simple way to ensure that doesn't happen, Eda, just saying). On first watch it was a little frustrating to watch Eda be upset about Huyla and not have it cleared up immediately. However, on the second time through I found it incredibly enjoyable to watch. Hilarious even. Knowing that Serkan is going to let her off the hook just a few minutes later, and it's not going to be a drawn out misunderstanding, it's very fun to watch him just totally bask in her jealousy. The way he sits there and giggles and is just so chuffed at her display was very endearing. Since he's been celibate for 5 years, I suppose he's earned an incrediulous laugh at her thinking he has all these women on the line.

Eda is not wrong to be concerned about the Bolat's ability to spoil Kiraz with material things, Aydan can get out of control, however I can't be mad at the pony. The girl asked him if he had horses the first day they met, she said she wanted a dad like Serkan who had horses, he HAD to get her one she could actually ride! The girl was deprived of her father for 5 years because both of her parents are stubborn, so, let's be real, she kinda deserves a pony. Besides Eda should be more worried about the "spoiling" she gets from her camp, where she, Ayfer, Melo and Burak let her get away with constantly running away/running wild, eating ice cream whenever she wants, being rude to strangers etc. The fact that she's taught it's okay to knock a customer's water over without apologizing is more damaging to a forming personality than a pony. (Yes, that was another dig at Burak.) The point is, spoiling isn't only about material things, and from the glimpses we've seen of Baba Serkan he's already taught her about taking responsibility (confessing to breaking the window and apologizing), being self sufficient (tying shoelaces, putting pjs on herself), and setting behavioral boundaries (don't shoot arrows at people in hotels, you shouldn't hug strangers). He's going to be a very good influence in her life, because despite growing up with material privilege the man believes in hard work, effort and personal accountability.

Anyway, loved that when Serkan told Eda about dinner with Engin/Piril/Can she looked so secretly pleased when she casually agreed to go. I think that goes hand in hand with why she was spying, she won't let herself admit it, but she so badly wants them to do things as a family. That was part of her tug o' war this episode. Wanting that, but then suddenly worrying that maybe she shouldn't want that after everything that's happened, those feelings are helped along by Ayfer's judgemental looks and comments, and Burak trying to assert his place and Eda maybe feeling guilty.

Eda's behavior at dinner perfectly summarized the war going on between her head and heart this episode. First she fights with Serkan, going so far as to tell him she hates him, but the second she gets good news she flings herself into his arms. He's the person she wants to celebrate with, he's the person she wants congratulations from. So even if she was mad at him, she can't help herself. Also thank you Engin for telling Eda how Serkan lost weight and didn't come to work for months after she left. Those are important things for her to know. Also reinforced later by Aydan.

And thank you, Jan, for planting that fear of her dad leaving again with Kiraz, because it gave us sleep over at the Bolat house. It also gave us Kiraz asking Serkan if he will leave her. A good question and I'm glad we have Serkan's promise to never leave her. Just with the way tragedy (and meddling family members and obsessed stalkers) seems to find both Eda and Serkan, it's good he's made that promise. And it's good that he knows she needs that promise.

Now onto the secret room. I suppose if you're going to keep all of that and you have a large house, then you might as well keep it in a special room. This was a huge missing piece for Eda. Something tangible that she can see with her own two eyes that proves that he never forgot her and has been pining for her since the day they parted. I thought Eda was suitably touched by it all, and the fact that he got her gifts for every birthday. Anyone else think that they're going to get married on the beach and she's going to wear those flip-flops, that white dress, and the locket when they do? That's what sprung to my mind. The Neslihan scarf product placement made me roll my eyes, though.

To be honest I really didn't care what the gifts were, all I cared about was that thank you cheek kiss. I DIE. The birthday-present-thank-you cheek kiss he gave her in 7 is one of my all time favorite scenes and this parallel was a long time coming and wonderfully executed. And then they delivered on the USTy stare off where they clearly want to make out, but they're not quite there yet. It was going to have to be Eda that broke them out of it, because up to Serkan they either kiss or he stares at her for the rest of time.

Did anyone else feel a crick in their back, neck, legs at how Eda slept on that couch? Serkan was as comfy as can be, stretched out using her legs as a pillow and her torso as a blanket, lol. I wish the editors would have given us a couple of more seconds lingering on them all contorted like that. It was too precious. It would have been sweet if they'd had Kiraz find them and watch them for a minute before waking them up. Show the parent-trapping gears turning in her mind.

Buba absolutely deserved Serkan showing up to spoil his outing. And of course both ladies instantly gravitated to Serkan. I liked this scene because it gave us over-the-top BDE Serkan, a whiff of "Drain the pool" Serkan, the comedy of Engin and Serkan doing the Cyrano thing, and the obvious little "fish" measuring metaphor. But what I really liked was Eda telling him that he didn't need to try so hard to win Kiraz, that he just had to be himself. That was important and lovely, and illustrated to him that she really did want him to develop a good relationship with Kiraz.

The best moments of the episode for them, though, came during their family stargazing outing. Loved Serkan's extra safety precautions, including the mirror just so he can see her in the backseat. Though, if he's that concerned about it, maybe a larger car, lmao? Kiraz tricking them into kissing was an auspicious start to the evening, hopefully that's a taste of things to come. I'm here for her forcing the two of them into intimate situations.

The way Serkan was looking at the two of them throughout the stargazing was something else. He was looking at them with such longing. Like he couldn't believe they were so close, but he wanted them so badly. DUDE, they are right there, continue to play your cards right (and not let Ayfer and Aydan spoil things, spoiler alert, they do) and you're just days away from having everything you want. Loved that he changed the Apollo story to give it the happy ending he wants. Hopefully, that gave hope to any doomsdayers out there that think this show is going to end in tragedy. (Spoiler alert, it's not).

The only shame is that they have that nice (if not detached from reality conversation since they pretend they're not going to be together raising Kiraz) adult conversation about cooperating and working out how they're going to deal with Aydan and Ayfer, only for things to go totally off the rails during said conversations. As I said off the top of this marathon post, it was totally unbelievable in the context of the rest of the episode, but as I always say you can't take this show too seriously, and I prefer to just enjoy the situations as they come and not get too annoyed when they take these writing shortcuts to drive the plot. I plan on very much enjoying Eda and Serkan forced to live together while they're (or at least she) is still pretending they're not going to end up together. Looks like next week is another fun romcom romp, and I'm here for it!

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

1, 8 and 25 for 'get to know your author' if you feel like it💕

Hi Nikita, thanks for indulging me :)

1. Is there a story you're holding off on writing for some reason?

Two, actually. I've said before and I'll say it again, I'll know that I've beaten depression for good and all when I can write It's Only a Paper Moon without sinking into a days-long funk. The other is a standalone novel about a young girl whose consciousness was imperfectly transferred into the body of a robot just before the end of the world. Centuries later, she has awoken and is trying to reconstruct her identity and memories while coming to grips with her new world and new body. The writing style I'm using is deeply visceral, dense, and ephemeral. I've written a few scenes in that style, and I love the effect of it, but I genuinely think it's beyond my skill write now to do a whole book in it. So I'm working on other things in the meantime until I feel like my skills are up to it.

8. Favorite genre to write?

Fantasy or sci-fi, for sure. I love the worldbuilding freedom that comes with them. I like digging into the nitty-gritty implications of complicated cultures and systems of magic or technology. I also really like the freedom to disregard the real world entirely. Writing in the real world, where things are objectively true and I have to be careful not to get details wrong, stresses me out. My current project is set in the real world, and that's part of what's taking it so long.

To go just a little bit deeper, I really love writing stories as character studies. Sci-fi and fantasy are great for that, too, because I can construct the world to reflect back the themes and emotions of the characters. If any of you have read A Warm Embrace (which I slightly doubt, since it's for a completely different fandom), think about how many scenes I have of characters walking and thinking, interspersed with descriptions of their surroundings. I fucking love that shit.

25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph you're proud of.

I'm not at home, so I don't have access to any of my WIPs; fortunately, I am proud of my published work too. This is from Chapter 21 of A Warm Embrace.

A thunderous BOOM exploded through the street, a wave of searing heat and crushing pressure slamming into Jester like a club, sending her staggering. She quickly regained her feet, but struggled to regain her bearings as she tried desperately to make sense of the blazing orange light that had rent the sable sky asunder, reflecting off a pillar of smoke that now towered over her. The soft muted sounds of the falling snow had dissolved before the fierce crackling that now seemed to drown out everything else. The heat was blistering against Jester's skin. The flames must either be very close or absolutely enormous – she couldn’t seem to get her eyes to resolve the plume of smoke into any particular scale.

[...]

She didn’t have to run far. With no buildings between her and the inferno, the heat was almost unbearable, the light so bright as to wash away all other sights. Her father stood silhouetted against it, his back to her, snow falling like pale ash around him as he stared into the apocalyptic tower that had consumed the Evening Nip. Pale fingers of flame raked through the hollow shell of the building that had been their home, boards tearing and shattering beneath the fire’s grasp.

An overpowering urge overtook Jester, an insane impulse to rush in, to try to save something, there had to be something she could save, her whole life was in there. Some scrap of clothing, some treasured painting, some old sketchbook, some novel, something. But the heat was like a brick wall, the crackling roar like a hurricane wind, and she couldn’t take a step. The smell of smoke was curling around her like an evil spirit, flowing into her and through her, filling her nose and mouth and lungs with its heavy acid scent of old, beer-soaked wood and cooking meat.

Thanks so much for the ask!

[babeyvenus]

Revival(BNHA OC)

Chapter 4: Something Bad's About To Happen

Keeping herself hidden from her villainous father, and studying to be a hero for the sake of her and her deceased mother, Sunako Homura pushes her way through countless challenges in her highschool years. Will she lose it all, or lose herself?

Story Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Family/Comfort

Tags/Trigger Warnings: Gore/Blood, Suicidal attempts, Alcohol, Language, Panic Attacks

_______________________________________________

Everyone was silent, but looked at me with wide eyes.

"I KNEW IT! I knew you had to be something!", the smaller boy yelled, pointing at me.

"Something....?", I asked, sweatdropping.

"You're a girl....?", Kaminari asked surprised.

"Why are you wearing the male uniform?", Midoriya asked.

"Because, I've learned to hate skirts and dresses and frilly, unnecessary things like that.", I explain.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with what you like. If you don't like skirts and dresses, trust me, I don't either, but it's nothing wrong with that.", Jirou said.

I gave her a small smile. "Thanks."

"Well, why did you come dressing up as a guy in the first place...?", Kirishima asked.

I sighed, rubbing behind my neck. “Its...confidential. Let’s just say, I have Daddy Issues.”

I looked at everyone and some of them looked concerned, some of them even looked shocked.

Everyone got up at the sound of the lunch bell and Mina gave me a look as if to tell me, 'we'll talk about this later.'

I started to follow the rest of the girls until I got pulled back by Bakugou.

"Somehow you cease to surprise me so far.", he says with a glare.

"Should I take that as a bad thing?", I ask.

"Damn straight.", he says, letting me go and walks out.

I sighed and left for the cafeteria too.

As I got something from the vending machine, I thought back to everyone's faces.

I didn't mean to make them feel down... What a good way to start the year…

Right about the time I was gonna go see Mina, the alarm went off and panic rang out in the cafeteria.

What now....?

I headed out toward the exit, which led me to be practically drowning in a crowd of panicked teenagers.

It wasn’t long before I found myself partially pinned against a wall and being jerked around.

Right before I was gonna explode on someone's ass for thrashing me, I felt someone grab my arm and pull me hard through the crowd to a less dense area.

"You okay?", a familiar redhead asks.

He blocked me against the wall in a protective gesture, grunting every time someone bumped into him.

"Do you know what's going on?", I asked throughout all the yelling.

"It's just the press! Someone must've gotten in!", he yells.

I nodded. No wonder.

Iida somehow managed to get everyone to calm down and stop moving.

"Its over with....", I say. Kirishima backs away with a smile. "Yeah. Have you eaten yet?"

I shrug. "Just a bit before all the commotion." That made him frown a little. "Well a bit won't do. Gotta eat before training. Let's go.", he says, leading me to the cafeteria.

After the commotion with the press, I started to get a bad feeling...

"Hey, Kirishima....", I say walking behind him.

"Yeah?", he answered, looking back at me.

"What if it was actually a real villain using the press as a cover-up to get in...?"

He rubbed behind his neck. "Nah, I don't think they'd let us walk around if that happened."

"I guess so. I just got this weird feeling something's gonna happen.", I say. "Well don't jinx it", he jokes.

A few days later, we were assigned to go to USJ for a training exercise.

"Line up accordingly to your class seats. Fill them up in an orderly fashion." Iida waved in a weird way.

"Dude, chill.", I say. This class rep role is really serious to him...

He turned to the inside of the bus, much to his disappointment. "No...! It's that type!"

We all looked inside the bus and snickered at his disappointment. The front part of the bus had seats on both sides of it facing each other like two sofas.

I sat next to Kaminari as everyone else followed through.

I tuned in and out as Mina, Tsuyu, Kirishima, and Midoriya started talking about their quirks.

"I generally say what's on my mind, though... Midoriya," Tsuyu announces, making us all look at her.

"Your quirk reminds me of All Might.", she says and he flinches. Huh...now that I think about it...

"Now, hold on Tsu.", Kirishima says. "All Might doesn't get hurt by his quirk."

"Yeah, that's right.", Midoriya says.

"You got a flashy quirk, Midoriya. Mine on the other hand," Kirishima raises his arm and hardens it. "Not so much."

"Aw, don't say that Kiri. It's plenty useful. I like it because it makes you seem unbreakable!", I say with a smile.

He gives me a wide sharp tooth grin. Guess he's over the issue from yesterday.

"Now if you wanna talk flashy,", he points toward Bakugou and Todoroki. "Those guys are the best bet.", he turns to me. "I've yet to see your full quirk, Homura."

I looked out the window. "And it's gonna stay that way."

"Aw, c'mon! I wanna see how you work it.", he muses.

"Yeah!", Kaminari cheers on the side of me.

I shook my head fast. "Nope!"

"Well Bakugou could never be popular, not with that temper of his.", Tsuyu chimes in.

"What the fuck!? I'll kick your ass!", Bakugou yells.

"See?", she says pointing and making me laugh.

"Well, it makes sense. We just met you and we can already tell you got the personality of burned trash filled with sewage.", Kaminari says.

"Oh wow.", I snickered.

"Fuck you! I'm gonna make your life a living hell, you little shit!!", Bakugou yells, scaring Jirou.

"Bakugou, calm down!", I say laughing.

"I'll give you something to laugh at, you Spawn!", he threatens.

We all laughed until the bus came to a stop.

We stopped right in front of the USJ as Aizawa-sensei started to speak.

"This is a different part of training. Rescue.", he looked at all of us. "It's nothing serious compared to real natural disasters, just scenarios of what could happen. Uh, 13 explain."

Uraraka and Midoriya gasp in astonishment. "13....!"

The short astronaut suit came walking up to us. "Hey, you guys! 14, 15, 18, 19....21! Okay! So, welcome USJ!"

"In our super powered society, the use of quirks are heavily restricted and monitored. It may seem that our system is a stable one, but we must never forget that it takes only one wrong move and someone's dead.", he says.

With that, he led us inside.

"Holy crap, this is like an amusement park!", Kirishima exclaimed.

"As you may know, my power is Black Hole. I can suck up anything and it turns into dust.", 13 explains. "Just like your quirks, they do not exist to hurt people."

I grimaced. "Don't worry about it, Sunako.", I hear Tomohiro say, turning my head to see him by my side. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”, I say, making him chuckle.

"With that being said, be careful and have fun!"

Aizawa-sensei looked at us. "Alright, go in there and-"

I shivered. I got a bad feeling....

"Uh...is this part of the practice....?", Kirishima asks looking down, making everyone do the same.

"Villains...!", 13 yelled. I looked down to see multiple portals opening, giving a passageway to let them in.

I saw Aizawa pull out his goggles and put them over his head.

"Aizawa-sensei, you're gonna attack!? What about your quirk limit!?", Midoriya asks.

"A hero always has more than one trick up their sleeve. Huddle up and stay back! 13, protect the kids!", Aizawa yells, putting on his goggles and launches into action.

I looked down at a certain figure who stayed by the purple portal. He had hands all over him and even on his face.

"What's his problem....?", I whispered. "They're here for something. Keep your guard up.", Tomohiro says.

"We, the Villains Alliance, have only come for one person. The symbol of peace.", the blue haired figure said. "I wonder if he'll come if we just....kill these kids..."

"These guys are idiots...", I said.

Aizawa jumped to the villains and fought like they weren't nothing.

"We gotta go!!", Kaminari yelled.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that."

I got a shiver again as a black purple mist appeared in front of us.

I knew something was gonna happen...

"I am Kurogiri...I apologize for the short notice. We took it upon ourselves to enter UA, the base of heroes."

We all stare up at the mist hearing the voice. "Was Mr. All Might not able to attend...?"

It moved and sighed. "That aside, this is my role.", I looked up to see Kirishima and Bakugou rushing toward the mist and attacked it.

"Bet you didn't expect us to do you in before you got the chance!", Kirishima exclaims.

"To be expected. The hero world's golden eggs."

"Run you two!", 13 shouts as the mist expanded and surrounded us.

I got pushed back and lit my hand on fire to see. What did we get ourselves into...!?

"Demon Brat!!", I heard Bakugou's voice and saw him reaching for me. I reached for him but ended up transporting somewhere.

I woke up in front of the Ruins Zone to hear chuckles behind me.

"Fresh meat....", countless villains muttered.

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. I bared my fangs, changing my form into an Oni.

"If anyone's meat, it's you idiots. I'll give you a 5 second head start to leave before I kick your asses.", I snarled, my knees wobbling as I stood.

Some of them back up but they still stay.

"Brave motherfuckers, aren't you? Fine.", I say, smirking but it quickly falls into a glare, the atmosphere grew tense. "That was your mistake."

I stomped the ground making large layers of platforms rise and fall on to them. Thank god, we were around an area where I could use dirt.

I stalked toward the rest, they backed away in fear. "Aw, don't run now...we're just getting started."

They all paled and ran away. "Punks.", I slipped out of the form, turning back. I looked around for any of my classmates nearby but no one was.

"I gotta find someone....", I muttered. Then I hear rumbles and blasts from above and I sweatdropped.

"That's gotta be Bakugou.", I say and fly up the stairs.

"SAY GOODBYE!!", I ducked out of the way of a villain being thrown my way and looked at Bakugou and Kirishima panting heavily with many villains surrounded around their feet.

"You guys okay?", I asked, walking toward them.

"Homura!", Kirishima notices me with a smile, knocking a goon out.

"You don't have a single scratch on you, Demon Brat.", Bakugou says.

"They all ran.", I say, shrugging and touching his arm, letting the heat on my hand heal his scratches and did the same for Kirishima.

"Your power's amazing, Homura. It doesn't even burn.", Kirishima grins widely, making me smile.

"Thanks.", I say, looking around at all the goons.

"We gotta have a plan to get out of here.", Kirishima says.

"You idiots can do whatever you want, I'm going after that warpy bastard.", Bakugou says, walking away.

"Huh...!? Our attacks didn't do nothing against that guy!", Kirishima says.

"And you're going alone? I think you're the only idiot here, Bakagou.", I say.

He looked over his shoulder to glare at me. "What was that...?"

"I said you're an idiot. Do I need to say it a little slower? If you go by yourself, you'll get yourself killed.", I say.

"That's the thing!", he says turning to me. "That bastard was their way in and out. So, I'm taking him down first before anything."

I felt someone's presence behind him and felt off. "Uh..."

Before I could say anything, he sent a blast downwards and revealed a knocked out enemy.

"If they're sending in weak shits like this, there's no way we can lose.", he says.

He looks so calm... "He's reliable despite being a little shit." , Tatsuo says in approval.

"So, that's what you meant. Also, when'd you become so calm and rational....? Usually you're all," Kirishima made an impression of Bakugou. "Die! Die! Die!!"

"I'm always calm and rational, you shitty haired punk!!", Bakugou yelled.

"There he is.", I say smiling.

"Both of you, fuck off!", Bakugou says.

"Okay, so, what you're saying is you believe in our classmates. That's good thinking, and that's thinking like a man, Bakugou. I'm with you.", Kirishima says excitedly.

I sigh and smile. "I guess I am too. I just hope you know what you're doing, please."

I looked outside to the rest of the USJ area to see a big creature holding a bloody Aizawa down.

I tensed and gasped softly as Kirishima put his hand on my shoulder. "You okay...?"

I just pointed down to the sight. "These sick sonuvabitches are gonna die....!", I hear Tatsuo growl.

They widened their eyes and backed away from the window.

I backed away and walked out the area and back to the middle of USJ.

"You got a plan...?", Bakugou asked.

I turned to him. "Just do what you normally do."

He just grinned widely, but that expression dropped as soon as we looked up to the entrance. And in the entrance stood All Might. He's... frowning? "Have no fear. Because I am here."

"I had a bad feeling in my stomach while I rested, but to think it was this bad....", he says coming down the stairs.

"I heard from young Iida that there were villains. But, it's all right now. Because I am here."

He rips off his tie and it flutters to the ground.

He came toward the fallen Aizawa and picked him up, carrying Midoriya, Tsuyu and Mineta away from the villains.

After ordering them to get Aizawa, All Might attacks the creature, doing a German suplex on it.

I saw how bad All Might was getting hurt and how Midoriya was rushing towards him.

"Get ready to fly.", I say to the two in front of me.

"Uh, what?"

I stomped the ground, launching them both toward the fight but they went in different ways.

I saw Midoriya reaching for the blue haired villain, but missed as Bakugou got in his way.

"Get the hell out of my way, Deku!!"

Bakugou attacked Kurogiri when Kirishima missed.

"Damn you!!", the hand villain exclaimed and I glared at him.

"I almost had him!", Kirishima yells after missing the villain.

I saw that part of that creature's body was covered in ice and I looked to my right seeing Todoroki.

"Fancy seeing you here.", I say.

"Likewise," he replied and looked toward the villain. "I heard about you bastards' plan and each of your roles. Also a scheme to kill All Might. The symbol of peace won't go down as easy as you fools."

"You guys made a big mistake.", I say smiling.

"Let's just kill them!", Tatsuo says. Let's not do that.

That being said, All Might pried himself out of the creature's hold and dashed away.

"You pinned down our revolving door..."

"This prick was never that sharp! That metal clasp you got on your body, you used to get all misty and shit just got sealed, you sneaky fuck!" Bakugou exclaims with a grin.

"That attack was never dangerous, was it? You just used that as a decoy to hide the real body!"

Kurogiri moves a little but stops as Bakugou uses small explosions on him.

"Don't you move!", Bakugou chuckles glaring down at Kurogiri. "You move so much as a twitch and I'll blow your ass up so bad that they'll be piecing you back together for weeks."

"Not very heroic, bro.", Kirishima grinned nervously.

"You've got us cornered....I have to hand it to these kids nowadays. At this point, the Villains Alliance will be a laughing stock.", the villain turns to the broken creature.

"Nomu, take care of Explosion Boy for me...."

I widened my eyes as Nomu regenerates its own body and goes after Bakugou.

"Bakugou!!", I yell, running towards it but I ended up right next to Bakugou who was also on the ground.

"You're okay...wait, how'd you get here?", I asked.

"I don't fuckin' know.", he says still on the ground, probably in shock.

I look back to see All Might had taken a hit from Nomu.

"Are you crazy...? Have you no mercy...? These are children.", All Might says.

"Mercy....?", the hand villain looks over to us and points at Midoriya. "That plain looking boy almost killed me but I need to give mercy!? Who gets to decide what's right or wrong...? Society! And that's what irritates me. You're the symbol of peace....? You gotta be kidding me. You're just the same. You’re only here for your kicks."

"That's enough.", I say.

"It's a 6 vs. 3.", Todoroki says.

"No! You all need to leave.", All Might says.

"No can do, All Might. Can't be heroes if we just left you here.", I say.

"Yeah and you're bleeding!", Midoriya said.

"If I hadn't froze that monster, you would've most likely died.", Todoroki interjected.

"It's fine.", All Might insisted.

"Fine, let's settle this! Nomu, you go after All Might. I've got the children.", the hand villain says running towards us.

I started walking toward the hand villain but Bakugou pulled me back.

Dammit, Bakugou!

My eyes illuminated a bright scarlet color and I shot a fiery blast toward the villain.

"Dammit, Brat!!", Bakugou shouted at me avoiding the heat.

"You're the boss, right?", I ask looking at the villain. "I'll just take you down first!!", I yell running towards him, feeling myself change into a form of an Oni.

I sent a roundhouse kick toward the hand villain's face, making it collide with the hand on his face. He fell to the ground and touched my leg.

I yelled in pain after seeing the aftermath of what remained of my leg.

My pant leg torn and my calf broken and bleeding out.

I got knocked over by the sudden blast of air because of how hard All Might and Nomu were fighting.

I pulled two metal rods from the ground and threw it at the villain but missed due to All Might's fighting.

With all this air and wind going everywhere, there's no telling where my blasts could go....

"Plus....ULTRA!!!", All Might yells, finally getting rid of Nomu.

"Alright!!", I exclaimed but felt a burning sensation on my shoulder and hip.

"I told you to keep your guard up!", Tomohiro yells in my head.

I saw that the villain had his hands on me and my skin broken, leaving muscle showing. I felt an overwhelming feeling of numbness as I fell to the ground.

"You bastard!!!", I heard Bakugou's voice and gunshots before passing out from the numbing pain.

I woke up to loud, slow beeping and looked around to see that I was in a different area.

I'm in the hospital....? No... Its the nurse's office...

I looked over to my right to see Kirishima asleep in two chairs, slumped over.

"You're finally awake.", I see Tomohiro walk over to my bed.

"Yeah....", I say, startling Recovery Girl.

"You're awake."

"How long have I been out...?"

I sounded so hoarse, it hurt to even try to talk.

"6 hours. Your wounds closed up quickly." she said.

I nodded and looked over to see the sleeping duo.

"He carried you in here.", the elder woman said, pointing to a sleeping Kirishima.

"Really...?", I asked.

As expected of Kirishima to do that, but why...?

That was kinda hard to believe. "The boy's... chivalrous...", Tatsuo says, appearing at my side.

Just then, the said boy stirred and woke up.

Kirishima jumps awake and looks at me. "How're you feeling!?"

"Like I've been walking in a desert for hours. I'm dying.", I hoarse.

Recovery Girl brings me water and I sit up to down it dry.

"What about you? Is All Might okay? Is everyone okay?", I asked.

"Everyone's doing fine. Well, Midoriya still has to let his legs heal and Aizawa-sensei... he's still healing too but everyone's fine.", Kirishima says.

"Good...", I rasp, staring up at the ceiling.

He frowned a bit in worry. "Do you think you can move?"

I winced and looked at my hip that had a small scar on it.

Still sensitive... "That villain wasn't any ordinary villain.", Tatsuo says.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry I worried you."

You guys too, I should've been more careful.

"Don't worry about it.", Tomohiro says as Tatsuo grunts in agreement.

"No biggie. Just get better so we can train again!", Kirishima says with a sharp tooth smile.

I smiled back at him and got out of the bed, wincing again and gripping on to the bed sheets.

"My leg...my shoulder and hip hurts. Great.", I mutter.

"Hm...", Kirishima hums. He turns around, crouching in front of my feet. "Get on."

"Kirishima-"

"No complaints. It wouldn't be very manly of me if I let you walk home hurt, so get on.", he says.

I sighed and got on his back, careful to not hurt his back.

I held on tight as he got me right and took my bag, carrying it under me as he walked me out of the nurse's office, getting me home.

_______________________________________________

A/N: plenty of dumb mistakes were made, oh well¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Taglist: @xartisticmdx @dakotacecily @moonfairy-h @weird-dere @afuckingunicornn @dee-madwriter

[mikemightwritesometimes]

DAUGHTERS - HELL SONGS

"Love is a disgusting thing."

As of more recently, I've been re-connecting with the side of me that once was heavily enamored with thrashing and pulverising - at least in musical form. Last year I re-discovered and realized my absolute infatuation with The Blood Brothers, and I'm sure I'll end up writing about them at some point. The Blood Brothers opened my eyes to a forgotten pre-conceived notion that I once shed, gained back, and shed again - not everything labeled "screamo" or with a "-core" at the end of the genre descriptor is inherently inferior to other forms of heavy music. Quite the contrary, actually. Digging deeper into similar bands since then, I fell in love with everything Orchid has ever done and more recently came around to having some real pleasant body spasms while listening to Jeromes Dream. These three bands made me identify what I love so much about this early brand of """"screamo,"""" namely the menacingly gruesome demeanor and the visceral speed bands can take the style - leading to absolutely euphoric highs.

Bands such as Orchid, Jeromes Dream, and Swing Kids planted the seed for future bands to further twist and mangle the way hyper-speed, ear-shredding goodness is made - and bands like The Blood Brothers, The Locust, (and unknowingly to me for a while) Daughters, carried that torch into the new millennium. All three of the progenitors listed focused on raw power but with an easily perceivable subtext of wit, humor, and unique musical ideas. The successors took that pass from the top of the key and fucking slammed it NBA Jam-style into the future. An alley-oop of strange musical wonders.

When it comes to Daughters, I had never really heard anything by them outside of their incredibly acclaimed 2018 comeback "You Won't Get What You Want," a sublime record - albeit one that I've never really sat down and experienced as a whole. The single "Satan in the Wait" piqued my interest while the closer "Guest House" is really what widened my eyes to the band's sound. It's a fantastic track which beats the shit out of you from the starting gun only to slowly morph into a heart-wrenching (or maybe organ-removing) picture of madness. I bring this track up in particular not only because I love the song (seriously, that melodic, synth brass-sounding addition at the middle of the track is simply awesome and warranted many a replay from me), but because I think out of all the songs I've heard from "YWGWYW," it's the one that closest resembles the ecstasy I feel when listening to their second record, "Hell Songs."

Immediately after digging their comeback record, I did what I usually do - jump back to the debut. Their debut, "Canada Songs," is some pretty good stuff. Not my favorite mathcore (or even grindcore) project I've ever heard (thanks, Locust), but it shows the starting point for the logical progression to their current dense, yet hard-hitting sound. It sounds like shredding your ear with a cheese grater (in a good way, mind you) but even at ~12 minutes for the whole project it's not one I've been inclined to come back and listen to a lot. Where the magic for me truly has lied is listening to them develop into their current form on "Hell Songs," an album that brilliantly blends the incredibly unique character of their recent work with the aggression of their debut.

Right off the bat, "Hell" is a completely different animal than their debut. If "Canada" is a ravenous, rabid dog, than "Hell" is a grizzled, experienced fighting dog who only won't kill you if it feels like you deserve mercy. Immediately noticable in the opener, "Daughters Spelled Wrong," is the shift in the vocal stylings of Alexis Marshall. He's traded in the shrieking grindcore growl of the debut for this bafflingly unique and immediately impressionable southern drawl. One thing I love about bands like The Blood Brothers and The Locust are the flat rejection of traditional hardcore vocal stylings in favor of weirdness - which ends up not only resulting in catchier, more memorable music, but also emphasizes and helps to accentuate the technical virtuosity going on underneath it instead of just drowning it out. "Daughters Spelled Wrong" is a sludgey, slow behemoth that less threatens you at knifepoint than it stares at you with crazy fucking eyes from across the street. Marshall lists off every single negative thing he's ever been called, from a sinner, to a fallen angel, thief, black sheep, and finally: a good-for-nothing, ass fuckin' son of a bitch. If that doesn't hook you in, (especially with the thunderous low end backing him up the length of the track), I don't know what will. It certainly hooked me in.

Throughout the record's ~25 minutes or so, there are a few tracks that instrumentally harken back to the grindcore sounds of their debut - namely "Fiery", "Crotch Buffet", and the fantastic "X-Ray" (I CALL AT FUCKIN ONEEEE, I CALL AT FUCKIN TWOOOOO). The difference here is both the aforementioned shift in vocal style - which lends the songs far more staying power - and the band's ability to elevate their game when it comes to breaking up the madness for a good slice of weirdness. Not only are Daughters a more technical, clean, and more evil beast on this record - they're a stranger one.

However, the crown jewels here are the "longer" tracks. "Feisty Snakewoman" has an opening death wail on guitar that persists throughout the track, winding up to be perfectly symmetrical with the half-time stomps of the drummer - just further proof that the craziest, nastiest music doesn't have to rely on the tired tropes of the genre. "Hyperventilationsystem" is another personal favorite - opening with some mind-melting double bass and high-pitched grinding guitars before suddenly throwing the steering wheel as far as it can go. Punctuated by a spy-thriller bassline and two guitar tracks - one punching, one gushing - Marshall echoes one phrase to himself over and over again, expressing his absolute disgust with love with the phrase, uh, well, "Love is a disgusting thing." As the song builds steam, the southern drawl of the vocal inflection burrows itself into your mind in perfect step with the bass drum - and have fun not singing it to yourself for a week. At the climax of the track, the band sets the car on fire while Marshall yelps, only for the band to drop out behind him for just long enough that your brain gets tenderized as soon as they pick up again.

That's a good time to talk about the lyrics, as well. "Hell Songs" beautifully blurs the line between the wordily poetic and outright debauchery. Within the same record, Marshall paints hauntingly dark imagery such as "When I awoke, a vicious dark hung in the sky / My surroundings foreign and discomforting", and lacerating himself and the listener with his tongue via lines like "I wear my sickness like a wedding band / I've been touching myself all day with a hammer and nail / I'm the flat-footed-mule-faced-fucker, the shit-bird-derelict-king."

Those last lines come from what I feel is the shining achievement of the record - and the song that quickly became one of my favorite extreme music-related songs of all time: "Recorded in a Pyramid." It's almost off-putting how traditional the main rift lining the song is, however as the song takes shape - what with its spastic snare drum fills and such - the underlying strangeness blends with the catchiness to become completely homogenous. By the time the chorus hits, the riff has suddenly jolted into an immediately wonderous major-key riff with a slab of heavy double bass underneath. This is all beautifully topped off with two of my favorite vocal lines I have ever heard in any genre relating to this one, with Marshall expelling all the breath from his lungs on top of this impeccably weird, pretty, and boisterous group of instruments until he sounds physically unable to do so anymore. The band, of course, catches him right at that picture-perfect final word both times to create one of the most memorable moments in hardcore I've ever heard. Again, never does the vocalist achieve this amazing tenacity by outright growling or shrieking - not that growling doesn't have its place - but somehow I picture grindcore grit not coming out anywhere nearly as magical as it does on this track.

The record ties itself up with two similarly great tracks - the much-acclaimed "Cheers, Pricks" which is a six minute (!) excursion into multi-part songwriting, mathcore brutality, Mach 10 funky strumming, and guitar ambience alike. The closer, "The Fuck Whisperer," is a short yet ungodly vast summary of just how much the band has shown on the record. Opening with stop-start fireworks, Marshall drops one line near the beginning of the track and the band follows suit mid-line. Suddenly, all there is is band members in the back murmuring to themselves as if they've just seen the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse: "It's already too late." But just when you think the record may be allowing itself to be completely engulfed in brooding torment for too long, Marshall (from seemingly across the room), reveals the ace up the band's sleeve (that mixture of crazy, evil chaos and unique character) with one line that intersects with the band: "There will be no leap into hyperspace and, it's already too late." The record's death yelp summarizes the lyrical themes throughout, with Marshall simultaneously unleashing one monstrous scream whilst making exaggerated sex moans. The band may have just told you that there will be no leap into hyperspace, but for the last half hour or so, you were just traveling at fucking warp speed. What a great record.

[writingdrabbles]

Fargus x The Sea

C-

#Faces: Fargus, -Fargus- ...hic.▼

Gods...▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Why did he leave me? We was makin' so much money...▼ The sex was so good... We trusted each other... What went wrong?▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Did I say somethin' out o' turn? Did I look at someone too hungrily?▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- What?! What could he possibly have been upset about?!▼

Am I too old? He always said he found that endearing...▼

Do I cuss too much?! He always smiled when I did!▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Answer me, y' great puddle o' piss and hate and bile!▼ Ye've drowned so many souls, surely ye've learned the taste o' one.▼

Take pity on me, th' lowliest o' th' low.▼ Whisper somethin' comfortin' in my ear, else I might not have the courage t' stay me blade from me throat.▼

#Faces: Fargus, -(No speaker)-

-Fargus- ...▼

Is that you speakin'? The whoosh and the murmur?▼ I don't speak yer tongue, miss, but I like what ye're sayin'.▼ Maybe we ken get along after all.▼

B-

#Faces: Fargus, -Fargus- ...▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- I...▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Gods, I can't do this. It felt so good a'fore, but I was drunk out me mind.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Alright, listen up, ye great soppin' demon.▼ I don't like this and neither d' ye. But we're goin' t' have t' get along if I'm t' keep my sanity.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Aw, who 'm I kiddin'? I'm talkin' to water. Sanity left th' picture long ago.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- ...▼

Fuck it. You hear me? Fuck it!▼

I'm gonna give ye everythin' I've got t' give.▼ All me heartbreaks, all me frustrations, all me petty tics and prejudices and fears.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Y' hear me, y' dense, cold, heartless fuck? I'm givin' ye everything!▼ EVERYTHING!!!▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- FUCKIN' EVERYTHING! ALL O' IT! FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL O' EM!!!▼

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!▼

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHH!!!▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Haaah...▼ Haaah...▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!▼

#Faces: Fargus, -(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Gods... That felt good.▼

A-

#Faces: Fargus, -Fargus- ...so I told him not t' bother. Copper's worth it's weight in shit these days.▼

But did he listen? Ha! Not likely. He smiled and nodded and under th' table he passed the fool a bag o' silver.▼

Like I wouldn't notice! I been doin' these kind o' underhanded deals since he were first learnin' what pubic hair were.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- What do I care, hey, love? It's his coin.▼ When it all goes capsized it won't affect me none, 'cept I won't have him as a partner no more.▼

And what a loss that will be! HA! Fuckin' weight off me shoulders, at that.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Not much else t' tell, love. Me new boat's cut me transit time in half,▼ so everythin's runnin' smoother than an oilded up Lycian.▼

If anythin', I could use some drama.▼

-(No speaker)-

-Fargus- Though, I got this one job, from th' isles. I get this feelin' in me lower decks, that somethin's different about it.▼

Most like it'll be as dreary as the rest o' me ferries, but maybe... I d' know, maybe it'll lead t' some excitement.▼