#which is said more than once in persona 5

[clowningclownn]

saw this dumbass post on twt comparing ken and akechi, basically saying how ken immediately tried killing shinjiro but akechi took so many years and wasnt able to kill shido and i just wanna say

akechis plan was never to kill shido, it was to make him suffer the same way akechi and his mother did. to strip him of everything shido thought made him- him. to turn him from a big strong man to absolutely nothing. that was his revenge. he was never a killer, he was taken advantage of. he was an imperfect victim, a child who a monster got his hands on.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink), enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, baby fever, fluff!, typos, etc.

A/N: i said i'd end this on p5 but i think i'll be ending at p7 HAHHAH lol. originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @minttea07 @fluffpudel @j3nn-1 @jelsasnowflakes1

"My lady," followed by high pitched barking made me turn around from where I sat in the garden.

Maester Yannick was walking over to me, with three puppies on his trail. He lifts his robe when he feels one of the critters nip at it. He hisses at them and tells them not to bite. Rose barks and takes it as a challenge.

I chuckle and shush her, raising a finger as I bend down to reinforce the discipline.

Rose looks at me then scurries off.

I straighten up on the bench as Yannick sits beside me. We both then turn to the soldiers in the making, training across the grounds of Brown Wood.

The Hound barks at them when they get their positions wrong.

"He is lovely today," Yannick tells me.

I turn to him and chuckle, but nod nonetheless.

He continues observing my husband, "he's been training long, hasn't he?"

"Mmm. Perhaps a couple hours," I look back at Sandor, "why? Do you think it is bad for his wounds?"

"I think it is bad for you," he looks at me.

I pull my head back, "me?"

The maester stands, "you are wasting precious time. Both of you are in good conditions," he links his hands together, "for the good of your house, it would be wise for you to be more... vigilant about producing heirs."

I feel my face drop and burn.

"As you know, my lady, the herbs I make for you are not cheap. It would be a shame to put them to waste due to a lack of effort."

I clear my throat and turn away from him.

Maester Yannick nods, "which reminds me, I will go and fetch you some tea right now."

I watch him walk away.

Once he was gone, my attention is averted back to Sandor. In truth, now more than ever has his hound persona been more apparent to me. Besides his fierceness, his snarling, his grit, the way he bared his teeth and howled at everyone, I could see his loyalty, his need to do good by the people in his life, his protectiveness, especially when it came to fighting, and his warmth.

I begin to think about Daisy. I turn to my side and watch as the pups begin to wreck the garden with their paws.

I find myself thinking about that night... that night when he said he loved me.

I rub my belly, not liking the way my stomach churned at my string of thoughts.

I watch as Sandor straightens up a boy, who was about to fall flat on his face, with one hand. He shakes his head at the child and says he can't fight if he's fighting himself too.

I imagine him speaking the same way to our son.

It was a horrible mistake. As quickly as I thought of it, I then remember telling him to give me a child by another woman.

I've set him free. He does not belong to me; in truth, he never did.

I quickly stand and wipe my face.

This was no longer leisure, this was torture.

I quickly run inside, retreating to my bedroom. Once I am there, I takes my shoes off, plop on my bed, and stare up at my ceiling. I look at the cobwebs in the distant corners and I wonder why I felt like crying but had no tears to shed. I lie there in silence, wishing nothing but to waste away.

I lift my head up from the sheets and turn to the door when I hear it open. I immediately stand and brush my skirts, "Sandor."

The feel of the cold floor on my bare feet send a shiver down my spine.

Sandor cautiously looks at me, "is everything alright?"

"Mmm?" I raise my brows, "what- why do you ask?"

"You ran inside and left your babes in the garden"

My lips part at his words. My hand instinctively comes to my belly.

"Pups," he raises a hand, "I meant pups. I didn't mean--"

Sandor is cut off by the voice of maester Yannick calling my name as he knocked on my door. Sandor opens the door for him and the old man enters, smiling when he sees the two of us. He is about to hand me the tea but then decides otherwise and puts it on my vanity.

He turns to Sandor, "I am pleased you decided to attend to your wife. Her fertility herbs are slowly being depleted. I was beginning to fear it would be for naught."

I grow frigid.

With that, the maester nods and exits, "please do enjoy each other's company."

The sound of the door closing leaves me red in the face. I lock eyes with Sandor then look away, clearing my throat. I flinch when he calls out my name.

I turn back and rub my arms, "yes... husband?"

"I didn't come here for that," he mutters, raising a hand cautiously.

My chest tightens. Of course not. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off before I could make a sound.

"I came to check if you're alright," he slowly steps forward.

I tense and nod, "I am well."

I feel my heart race when he takes another step towards me.

"Y-you needn't worry about me."

"I always worry about you," he mutters as he walks closer.

My words catch in my throat, "what?"

"Let me help you," he speaks, now only a few steps away from me.

My heart is pounding. I step back slowly, "h-help?"

"In the way only a man can," he lets out a heavy breath.

My calves hit the bed. I stop in my tracks and stand frozen. The Hound is now looking down at me. I am too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything else but stare.

The next thing I know, my gaze is drawn downward as he sits on the bed and peers up at my form.

"If you want a child from me," he whispers, "I'll give you one by no other woman but you." 

I look at him, heart in my mouth, body burning. I scratch my fingers and nod at his words.

Sandor sighs, "I need to hear you say it."

"I-" I shakily speak, "I want a child," I face him, "a child by you... my lord."

His brows knit.

My breath hitches when he touches my waist.

I can hear his heavy breathing as he whispers, "Sandor. Please."

I gulp as his palm rubs slowly across my belly. The action makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. My hand comes atop his. I oblige, "Sandor."

He gently tugs me in between his legs and my breath nearly escapes me. He rests his hands on my hips then pulls me in, sinking his face into my side. My ribs rattle with how quick my pulse was.

Sandor inhales deeply, "gods, you smell good."

I feel my body burn, "i-it's lavender oil."

I squeak when he pulls me down onto his lap. He cages me against him, my back flush against his chest. He sinks his face into my neck and slowly draws in a breath. His arms snake around me as he hotly speaks, "it's you, my pretty squirrel."

I feel his hands slowly lift my skirts up. My hands latch onto his arm that was still around my belly.

"Be calm, my wife, I cleaned up before coming here, in case I had to wipe your tears."

I make a sound as he knocks his nose into my jaw and exposes one of my legs to him. 

"I don't like it when you're upset."

My breath hitches, "I-I'm not upset."

"Good."

Sandor feels the goosebumps on my skin when his hand makes contact with my bare thigh. He shushes me as he rubs and kneads my flesh. I whimper and begin to squirm when his hand hikes up my inner thigh.

His fingers touch my clothed center. He breathes hotly against the pulse of my neck, "I'm going to take this off, mmm?"

I gulp and nod slowly at his words.

I maneuver with him when his hands come under my skirts to rid me of my smallclothes. He doesn't like the space that is created between us and rips me back into him. He ruts his hips into mine to add to his point.

I whine when Sandor's right hand rubs into my heat.

"Fuck," he hisses, "you've worked yourself up over nothing."

I make a louder noise when he prods his fingers into my pulsing entrance. I can feel his fingers slide with ease against my warm folds. I instinctively grip his arm when he sinks into me.

Sandor's other arm, in turn, tightens around me, "you can take it. You've taken more than my fingers, beautiful."

I whimper when he sinks another finger into me and begins to pump in and out. My breathing grows heavier and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he moves into me.

I feel his beard scratch into my neck. I feel his teeth graze lightly into my skin. His fingers languidly move in and out of me, even as I clench my thighs together. He makes no move to part them, and in truth, it doesn't hinder his movements at all.

I feel his tongue dart out on my neck, "I want to taste you."

I slowly lift my head from his shoulder just as he pulls his hand away from my thighs and brings his fingers into his mouth. I feel sobered by his action, taken aback by how filthy it was yet how eagerly he did it.

The next thing I know, he pulls back and lets my body fall in a space between his thighs. He quickly undoes his trousers. After, he pushes me onto my feet, and grips my hips. He rather impatiently rips up my skirts and I feel my thighs shake when he grips my bare flesh.

He pulls me back down on him, and I mewl when I feel his hardened length slip clumsily between my thighs, not yet entering me. I settle on him; the sensation of his clothes on my skin makes my belly roll.

"Fuck," he growls, as my thighs instinctively clamp around him. Sandor is unable to withhold the bucking of his hips.

When he does this, pleasure, crackling like embers, tingle up my body.

"Open up," he hisses, one hand coming between my legs, "I have to be inside you. I have to come inside, have to come inside your weeping cunny."

"Sandor," I whine as I slowly part my legs.

"I know, pretty squirrel. You're so worked up, for me," he breathes against my ear then nips at my lobe, "so fucking eager."

A drawn out whine escapes my lips when he sheathes himself into me.

He wastes no time in moving. I end up squeaking as he braces me against him and firmly thrusts upward into me.

My cries grow louder as his arms tighten beneath my breasts. I feel his hand knead one breast, but it doesn't last very long.

I am throttled onto my chest and pressed down on the sheets. Sandor lifted me up like I was nothing and adjusted me on the edge of the bed.

I'm barely on my tiptoes, as most of my weight was shifted on my spine from of how my husband was hoisting me up to cater to himself.

His movements quickly pick up the pace, and our position becomes reminiscent of the time he had me like this once before, only this time, his one hand was rubbing my scarred hip and he was much more vocal.

"Look at you, all bent over and mine," he groans.

I nails dig into the sheets.

"I'm gonna fill you up. You're going to be so fucking full of me."

I squeal into the sheets. The idea drives me wild. I plead into the bed but I don't think he hears it.

Just as I felt something begin to build in me, he slows.

I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them as Sandor drops one of my hips. I squeak when I feel him grab my shoulder and slowly turn me on my back.

My jaw drops; I breathe heavily through my mouth. Sandor looks down on me as his hands grip my sides. He pushes me upward and presses my legs by my ribs

He slowly thrusts into me, hands working their way across my body. He rubs my thighs, my belly, my breasts. His brows furrow, "fuck. So fucking soft and warm."

He massages my breasts then works his way up to my shoulders. His one hand rubs my neck before clutching my jaw. His other hand slides back down my hips. I whine when his thumb rubs circles around my sensitive nub. It makes my toes curl.

He sighs, "so fucking beautiful."

I whimper when his other thumb swipes my lips. I find myself licking at it. It makes him groan and buck into me faster.

I push my head back and arch my spine, "fuck- Sandor."

Both his hands land on my hips. He digs his nails into my flesh and begins to move deeper. Eventually, he sinks one hand down by the side of my head for support. My hands latch onto his hips.

"Come for me, pretty girl," he groans, "I'm not gonna last much longer."

I tug at his clothes.

"Be a good girl and come all over my cock, mmm. I want to feel you tighten around me-- get all messy and wet and loud and," he gives deliberate thrusts, "so fucking beautiful."

I whine, "Sandor, I want- I want to-"

I begin to tighten and shake against him. My legs wrap around him and my hands cling onto him for dear life. I find it futile to conceal my sounds, as I cannot find the strength to shut my mouth as I ride the feeling of bliss.

With a loud cuss, Sandor rams into me as deeply as he can. His movements are rough and slow. Both of his hands secured on my waist as he spills his seed into me.

I can feel him throb and can feel myself dripping with warmth.

Sandor takes his time, really drawing out the feeling before slowly coming to a halt. He lets out a final moan when he does stop then takes a deep breath.

I look at him as he closes his eyes and straightens up. My body burns when he looks down at me through hooded eyes and rubs my body again. He enjoys rubbing my breasts the most.

My hands come to his arms, and that seems to stop him.

I am about to tell him not to stop, but he speaks before I can, "wrap your legs round me."

In truth, I didn't have to do anything as he wraps my legs around himself and picks me up in his arms. I hook my feet around each other and am careful not to touch his blistered back as my hands go to his shoulders.

Sandor crawls up the bed with me clinging onto him; I feel the strength in his muscles as he moves. He sets me down on the pillows. He arranges one under my head and brings one beside me.

He looks at me for a moment then whispers, "I'm going to pull away now."

He waits for me to respond before doing anything.

In truth, the thought of him pulling away from me makes my body ache with sadness, but I slowly nod anyway.

I close my eyes as Sandor gently draws away from me. My emotions immediately overcome me in my vulnerable state. I rub my eyes when I feel tears build behind my lids. Sandor fixes my skirt and gathers my legs together. I feel him take the pillow beside me and stuff if bellow my bum.

"This will help keep my spend from dripping out."

His explanation makes my body burn.

I feel Sandor shuffle beside the bed and I hear him fixing his clothing.

I clench my jaw, dreading what I knew exactly was to come next.

I open my eyes when he calls my name. I look at him pathetically, noticing how his skin glowed with sweat, the last evidence that he was ever in me beyond his untucked shirt.

He reaches out to me and I really don't want to take his hand knowing he'll leave me after, so I don't.

I have no idea why he still grabs my hand. The action feels like a betrayal. He rubs my knuckles before kissing them. I chew my lip, feeling wronged over the fact he has never kissed my lips and probably never will.

"I will be leaving now," he mutters.

His words gut me, as always. 

I rip my hand out of his and turn away from him, "very well."

Sandor knits his brows at the sharp withdrawal. He was gentle was he not? Still, he's being turned away.

His mouth goes dry. He slowly steps back, "I..."

I turn my body away from him. I draw in a deep breath and try to make my voice as even as possible, "thank you, Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He steps back some more, "I-I'll bring your dogs here for company."

I chuckle dryly. Company. My voice breaks, "I'm tired."

Sandor's mouth twitches. He backs all the way up to the door, "I'll let you rest then."

I cover my face with my arm and hum in agreement, not trusting myself to speak anymore.

The moment I hear the click of the door, I begin to sob. I whine as his words replay in my head. How could he tell me such things, call me beautiful and say he wants me, then leave me right after? How could he touch me like that then want nothing to do with me?

I pull the pillow from underneath my head and wail into it.

Sandor, who couldn't find it in himself to step away from the door, decides not to walk back in when he hears the crying. His belly curdles with self-loathing. He feels like he's going to choke because of how hurt the noise sounded, nevermind how lovely it was seconds ago; it meant for nothing.

He walks away trying to figure out where he went wrong. He relives every touch, every sound in his memory. His eyes water when he comes to the dreadful realization it must have been horrible being with him. He forced his wretched looks onto an unwilling witness.

He gulps as he sniffles and wipes his face in frustration. He feels like walking into the forest, never to be seen again, but then he steps out to the garden and hears small barking sounds. He looks at the three pups, playing with the boys, who should have been training, and feels his heart twist.

He finds himself imagining what the scene would've been like if Daisy was here... if his pretty squirrel-- he shuts the thought away.

I knock on Sandor's office door and enter when he tells me to come in.

He looks up, does a double take, then immediately stops doing whatever it was he was doing. He clears his throat, "Lady Clegane."

His words pierce through me. He's never called me that before. I close the door and walk towards him, "Lord husband. Good morrow to you. Where is Andrew?"

His shoulders tense, "he... should be here any minute."

I nod as I halt in front of his desk, "he has gotten good enough at reading and balancing coin, I hope?"

Sandor sighs, "yes."

I notice the crumbs on his beard, then I notice a plate on his desk. He must have broken fast here. I fidget with my fingers and wipe my chin, hoping he would get the message. He doesn't. I decide not to note on it and simply get to the point, "maester Yannick said your wounds have dried up, and that if you liked, you could go on your rounds again."

Sandor nods and straightens in his chair, "I think I'll start once I'm confident in the bloke balancing our coin."

I nod slowly and link my hands together, "alright," I shift in my spot and turn to the door.

I look back at him and feel my body burn under his scrutiny. I offer a smile, "that is all I wanted to say," I rub my hands together, "-wanted to check on you."

I gasp when he jumps out of his chair.

I clutch my chest and stare at him. He had an arm raised and reached out to me. It dawns on me he said something but it was too quick for me to catch.

I release a breath, "pardon?"

Sandor lowers his hand, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat, "I... I asked how you're doing."

It takes me a few moments to realize the meaning of his words. I shift and my spot and rub my chest. I feel my neck burn when he further clarifies his question.

"Yesterday, when we... bedded, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I draw out a deep breath and smile softly, "you were... gentle with your touches."

Sandor is unsatisfied.

I aimlessly look around, "and, anyway, I am not as fragile as you think."

He purses his lips and tilts his head. He takes a moment before speaking, and when he does, he does so hesitantly, "I was afraid I made my pretty wife weep again."

I instinctively let out a laugh, but it was clearly unamused and pained. I feel like I was being scorched alive when I look at him looking at me. I shake my hands, suddenly in denial, "no, I was quite satisfied!"

Sandor's eyes widen a fraction.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What am I saying?

He blinks twice and wipes his mouth. Finally his crumbs fall off. He mutters, "that's... good."

I release my final chuckle. He turns to his desk, fixes some things, then looks back to me. He looks like he means to smile but he doesn't, "I'm glad."

He slowly sits down afterwards.

I feel like I'm being weighed down by anchor.

That was it. That was the conversation.

Sandor is no longer looking at me. He shuffles the paper into a file and I slowly begin to feel the air around us thicken.

He sets the parchment down and darts his eyes to me. He purses his lips again and I catch the way his face twitches. He opens his mouth and slowly points to the door, "if that's all... I would not keep you."

I don't know why I laugh again, but I do. It's not even funny. I feel like being stabbed would have been better, more amusing at this point. I curtsy at him and shuffle backwards, "of course. I do not mean to keep you either."

Sandor feels sick. He clenches his fists and turns to his desk. He breathes in deeply, trying not to rile himself up any more than he already was. Gods knew he would use all his strength to keep this room locked.

I walk towards the door and turn the knob. I feel a wave of tears threatening to spill, and I slap my mouth when a squeak leaves me.

Sandor is immediately alerted. He looks up and pushes himself on the edge of the seat, "what?"

I turn to the ground and wipe my face. I take two seconds for myself then turn to him. I cover up with a chuckle, "I said... y-your beard."

Sandor immediately rubs his beard.

I chuckle louder, trying to convince myself that I actually found it funny, "you have crumbs on your beard."

Sandor looks at me like I grew another head.

I laugh enough that I actually start laughing at myself.

When I stop, the silence is loud.

Sandor clears his throat and cautiously asks, "you find that funny?"

My stomach drops when I see the red tinge of his ears. I walk up to his side and shake my head, "wait, no- I- I didn't mean it like that."

Sandor shakes his head and offers me a quick and small smile, "it's fine. I just wasn't expecting that from you," he looks back to his desk, "anyway, I'm used to it."

I feel like my entrails were being grinded.

A line forms in his brows, "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."

"I wasn't laughing at you!" I whimper under my breath. The air in my lungs begin to catch in my throat as I exhale, "I was just- I ju-"

Sandor turns to me, face slipping when he catches my teary eyes.

He stands and takes my shoulders.

I blink my tears away and smile in an attempt to calm myself. I am glad I do not shed a tear. I speak through a loud breath, "I'm just nervous when I'm around you!"

Sandor immediately releases me. He sighs through his nostrils, "scared, you mean."

I shake my head and take his shoulders, "nervous."

The Hound seizes up like there was a knife to his neck. I take a moment to look at him and pull back.

I cannot deny it hurt when he immediately steps away from me.

I really should have left at this point, but my mouth had a mind of its own. I furrow my brows and give him an earnest look, "I can trim your beard for you."

He steps back one last time, then looks at me as if I now had three heads.

I realize my mistake, "if-if you want me to. I'm not saying you should, I'm just offering to-"

"You want to do that for me?"

I turn to stone. I look around nervously, "mmm... o-only if you'd have it... ... my lord."

Sandor's face twitches. He sighs and slumps forward. He furrows his brows, "you'd be staring at my face the whole time."

I watch him as he rummages through his things.

My stomach rolls again and I step back, "ah... I see."

Sandor stops to look at me.

"If you do not feel comfortable, I will not..."

My words run dry when he pulls out shears. I watch him as he straightens up. He grips the tool in his hand, "it's you I'm worried about."

I look up at him, not knowing what to say.

"I don't mean to scare yo-"

"I'm not scared of you," I mutter.

Sandor stares at me. After a moment, he slowly takes my hand and hands me the shears, "maybe you should be."

My chest pounds at fleeting touch.

I cut his beard in the garden, as I didn't want to make a mess in his office.

He sits on the bench there.

The breeze blows at both our hair.

"You needn't touch me so gently, girl," he says, "it will take a lot of you to hurt me."

I do not change the manner in which I touch his cheek. I can feel Sandor looking at me, but I do not avert my attention away from his beard, "just because you do not hurt easily doesn't mean I cannot be gentle with you, Hound."

The Hound reaches out to my thighs when my foot rolls on a rock. I barely even fidget, but, still, he holds me in place to keep me from a potential fall. He does not release me. I gulp when I feel his thumb rub my skirt.

"You can hurt me if you like," he says.

I pull back and furrow my brows, "would you like that?"

He grinds his lower lip in his teeth. He debates for a moment and I decide to snip his mustache. I shush him when he tries to speak. He purses his lips tightly.

A moment passes with just the sound of cutting.

"I wouldn't want to cut your lips off," I shift in front of him, still ever so aware of his touch of my thighs, "you still need them to kiss."

I pull away to check if his mustache was straight. I notice his expression, dumbfounded, and continue snipping. I sigh, "that was a jest."

I pull away and again and move to the other side. Sandor still keeps his hands on me. He looks at me as I gently move his head.

I add, "I'm quite funny actually."

He chuckles lowly.

It makes my heart flutter.

He smiles, "oh, I don't doubt it, little girl."

I flatten my lips into a line, unsure if he was serious or not. I trim the hair by his jaw.

"You must like kissing then."

I freeze in my spot. I stop what I was doing, then continue, "what do you mean?"

He pulls his hands away. I watch him link them together and rest them on his lap. He shrugs, "you thought of kissing."

"Do you like kissing?"

I place a hand on my hip. He turns to me and shrugs again, "s'fine."

I furrow my brows and mimic his shrug, "well, you've never kissed me, so I wouldn't really know, would I?"

"You've never kissed a man before?"

"No," I impatiently respond, "I've kissed you, but you did not kiss me back," I take a few last cuts off his beard, "on our wedding day, remember?"

I see Sandor's look of disbelief when I finish and brush him off. Specks of hair fly off with the wind.

"You never kissed a little lord in secret as a little girl?"

"Only a big lord," I make a face, "as according to you I still am a little girl."

He stands from where he sat and peers down at me.

I purse my lips and cross my arms. I shrug, "point taken."

His brown eyes glimmer with confusion. I find myself raising my brows. Just as he is about to speak-

"MILORD, MILADY!"

We turn to the three young men walking over to us. I recognize them as Sandor's training apprentices. They push each other as I turn and smile at them.

"Good morn', lady!" Harry says, bowing exaggeratedly at me, "your dress is very rambunctious."

I furrow my brows at his words and find myself chuckling, "uhhh, thank you?"

Sandor raises his brows and curls his lips.

Daniel slaps Harry behind the head, "YOU MUG, D'YA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, EVEN?"

Harry hisses and shoves Daniel, "DON'T HIT ME!"

Daniel gets shoved again when he incidentally elbows Richard, "OI, WATCH IT!"

The boys begin to quarrel. 

I step back before they can accidentally hit me, in turn, knocking my back into Sandor's.

"Enough!" the Hound barks, making the three brothers, or at least they acted like that, stop and turn to him.

My eyes widen at the sound of the Hound telling the boys off. I watch each of them tense as their Lord Clegane goes on a whole speech about biting off more than they can chew, and that, "if you lot want to act all tough around me, know I'll knock all three of your egg-heads with my hands tied."

I turn to the Hound, "Sandor."

He lets out a deep breath then eyes the three before him, "fuck off."

The boys immediately scram.

I bend over and grip my hips as I catch my breath. Lucy laughs at me as she beckons the puppies over with a stick. They come running over then she throws the stick for them to chase.

I huff, "these pups will be the death of me."

Lucy snorts, "and here I thought you wanted children."

I glare at her as the three small dark furred creatures begin to chase her around the garden as she runs. I call out in offence, "I do!"

Lucy runs over to me, "well, don't you know babes are far worse that this!" 

She giggles when she grabs my shoulders and uses me as a shield for the dogs. Though I was still winded, I laugh with her as the puppies prance around me. I grab Lucy's arm and begin to wrangle with her, "at least my babes will learn to speak. These pups know no sense!"

Lucy pushes me forward, encouraging me, "no, no, go on, s'your time to run, milady!"

I whine, "I really can't, Lucy."

"Oh, come on, lovie, you used to be full of energy! You're actin' as old as maester Yannick."

I hold back a laugh and shoot Lucy a look.

She shoots one back, "what? Did I lie?"

"Girls."

Lucy and I stop and turn to whom spoke. Sandor looks at us the way he always did, scrutinizing and serious.

I straighten up and nod in regard, "my lord."

Sandor sighs and looks away with annoyance. Wind blows his hair, adding effect to his expression. He looks down when the puppies begin to run towards him. They stand on their hind legs, pant, and bark. I swear I saw his exterior break into fondness.

But then he looks at me and it's all gone, "this came for you." He holds out a letter to me between his fingers, "I don't recognize the house sigil."

I walk up to him, smoothening my skirt out, then take the letter. I look at the wax seal for only a second then open the letter.

Sandor watches me raise my brows. He chuckles.

Lucy watches Sandor smile softly before purposefully frowning.

I look up at my husband, "it's from house Alistair."

Sandor's face scrunches up, "never heard of it."

I huff and delay my response to stop the puppies from chewing at the Hound's trousers. Sandor watches as I do this and gently shakes the puppies away. He takes my arm, preventing me from bending down, "I don't mind. They're just pups."

I give him a look, "if I don't stop them now when they're tiny, nothing will stop them when they're big."

Sandor watches as I sternly tell off the puppies and shoo them away. He chuckles at it, but then freezes when Lucy chuckles as well. The two make eye contact. Sandor doesn't have time to react.

"Cedric."

He turns to me, face contorting, "what?"

The puppies run off and Lucy runs along with them. I continue to explain, "Cedric is from House Alistair. You know, the lord that gave us a place to stay. You called him pretty bo-"

"I remember the fucker," he snaps.

I tense.

The Hound's nostrils flare, "what does he want?"

Suddenly, the letter in my hand feels heavy. I shrug, "he's invited us to his nameday celebration."

Sandor scoffs, "you mean he's invited you."

I release a frustrated huff when he begins to walk away. I follow after him and open the letter. I clear my throat and read aloud, "Fair greetings to Brown Wood, the home of House Clegane. May this letter find you in good spirits and health."

Sandor rolls his eyes as he walks back inside. He makes no haste, but I do, in order to keep up with him. I continue, "Seven days from now, I, Cedric Alistair, will be celebrating my--"

"I don't fucking care, little girl," he stops in his tracks and turns to me.

I nearly collide with him, but I gladly don't. I purse my lips and continue anyway, skipping to the part that holds my point, "if the Lord and Lady Clegane be so courteous in taking time out of their day to attend my feast, I would gladly-"

"Do you want to go, squirrel?"

I look up at him, blinking at the sight of his stern expression. I have to say, the omission of the word pretty for his petname made it feel... wrong. I clutch the letter by my belly, "he hosted us, me, Lucy... Daisy, even you, when we had nowhere to go. I think it only proper to attend his nameday to show appreciation and respect."

Sandor's eye twitches. He looks away and sighs.

I chew my lower lip, "he was kind to us, Sandor. I only mean to-"

"Fine," he cuts me off, "but if he touches you," he walks off, "I'm going to kill him."

His statement make my stomach churn. I cannot for the life of me understand what the intent of his words are. I chase after him again, "what if he asks me to dance with him?"

Sandor chuckles dryly, "a fine reason to chop him up."

He stops when I grab his arm. He looks at my hand on his bicep then gives me a look as I say, "you cannot kill him."

Sandor places his hand atop mine, "then don't fucking dance with him."

He squeezes my hand but it is not rough at all. It's gentle and extremely warm. He doesn't even try to pry my grip off, in fact, it's like he was tightening it on hm. My lips part and my body begins to burn.

I then realize when he was close enough for me to feel his breathing that he had been leaning in. I catch the way his eyes dart down to my mouth. I find myself slowly pressing my lips together.

I close my eyes when Sandor comes close to my cheek. I swear I felt my heart leap into my mouth when he pressed his face against mine.

He draws in a deep breath then sighs, "have you ever seen a hound share?"

The silence between us is deafening.

"Hmm?" he hums.

I open my mouth but nothing but mindless sounds leave me.

"I don't even think your pups do that."

My breath catches in my throat when he I feel his beard and his lips press gently against the crook of my neck.

Then the next moment, he releases me and pulls away like nothing happened.

We stare at each other for the longest second of my life. I feel like I'm on fire. What's worse is that I don't think he realizes just how affected I am, or actually... maybe it was good he couldn't tell I was dying inside.

"Still," he nods, "a dog is a dog and I will do as my master commands."

I feel light headed when he walks away.

I clutch my belly and walk to the nearest surface for support. I rub my neck, wondering if that really just happened.

[pftones3482]

"Ummm they toned down the abuse from Gabe in Percy Jackson because it's a kids show, stop being mad about it"

Ignoring the fact that it's also a children's book, let's take a look at some children's media in the last couple decades that depict parental abuse towards children that isn't physical, but still makes the abuse feel real:

1. Harry Potter. I'm loathe to even put it on here bc of how much I hate JKR, but HP DOES depict child abuse in probably one of the best ways of any modern media. As far as I can remember (correct me if I'm wrong), the Dursley's never lay a hand on Harry. But it is never even questioned if they're awful people towards Harry - they literally make him sleep in a closet.

2. Matilda. Like do I even need to explain this one? Abuse from not only her whole family (again, NONE of it physical from what I recall), but also from other authority figures. And she's not the only character who deals with parental abuse - Miss Honey is a grown adult shown to be dealing with the negative effects of an abusive parental figure.

3. Phineas and Ferb. Laugh all you want, but Doofenshmirtz's parents were genuinely awful to him. His stories are just tamed down in a way that's palpable to a much younger audience while still also being clear abuse - a young child can chuckle at his stories but STILL understand why maybe some of his stories would turn him evil.

4. Avatar the Last Airbender. Zuko's father physically disables his own son. Not to mention the constant emotional neglect and manipulation on top of it, the writers never held back on how bad his father was. Even if he hadn't scarred Zuko, he would still be a clear depiction of an abusive parent.

5. The Willoughbys. The parents are so awful that the kids literally plot to murder them. The parents abandoned them to freeze to death on top of a mountain. Enough said.

6. Percy fucking Jackson.

Percy Jackson IS a book made for kids that depicts child abuse from a parent - and not only does it depict child abuse, it depicts spousal abuse.

I know Percy doesn't know that Gabe is physically hurting Sally in the beginning of the book. But we as the audience know that Gabe DOES hurt Percy. There is not a single sign in the new show that Percy has anything more than a snarky, annoyed view of Gabe.

Gabe is supposed to be smelly and disgusting, a drunk (which, even if they can't depict that in a Disney show, you can still play around with his grossness), a slob, and a gambler. He's barely even greasy in the show. Literally they could have just had him belch a few times or eat messily and it would have given off a better impression of his character. Instead, he just quips back and forth with Percy and then later is just...whining. He's whiney. He does not ring as a man who abuses his family, emotionally OR physically, he rings as a pathetic step-dad figure who can't support himself (which is ALSO not canon, because in the book he runs an auto store! His abuse towards Sally is not for lack of money, it's just because he's a dick!!!) The fact that I think that Doof's parents in Phineas and Ferb are more overtly abusive than him on screen is actually absurd.

And Sally fell flat. Her character in the book doesn't yell literally ever - not once in the whole series can I recall her legitimately yelling at someone. Her persona is kind and gentle in the books and as for wits, she's clever, and sneaky, and cunning. She fights back with Gabe in ways that we as the audience can see, but Gabe misses because he's so dense.

Take the bean dip scene.

In the show, she basically is like "Yeah yeah I'll make the bean dip, shut up" and Gabe just whines about the sour cream while they yell at each other.

In the book? That's her bargaining chip to take the car for the weekend. That's her ticket out of the house. Bribery. Not just placating a whining husband - she bribes him in the books.

And her yelling back? Just feels so unnatural to Sally Jackson as a whole. I saw someone say she feels like Disney girl-bossed her, and they're right. She doesn't feel like Sally Jackson. She feels like just another cut and paste Disney woman who's snappy and doesn't take shit.

And to be clear - the OG Sally Jackson also didn't take shit. She was just so much more clever about it, in a way that made sure Percy never saw her actively yell. She doesn't have to be snarky and rude to get her way. Percy knows she's fighting back without physically fighting, and that's what makes her so strong. Sometimes you have to fight more with your wits and cleverness than you do with screaming and fists

(Gee...wonder what other character Percy ends up really admiring that also holds that philosophy in life?)

Anyway...all that said, stop blaming the fact that it's a children's show on Gabe's watered down personality. Children's shows/movies and family shows/movies have been depicting serious parental abuse and neglect for decades, in both realistic and more humorous ways that don't take away from the neglect. Kids can handle it, because there are kids going through it.

To say that "It's a kids show, kids shouldn't have to see that," is a disservice to the kids who need to see that, so they know that they can get away too, and they don't have to get physical to do it.

Also, this version of Gabe? Doesn't deserve to die. He's just annoying, not an asshole that scares Percy more than literal monsters do.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment II

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.3k

Part I | Masterlist | Part III

Then came the 74th Hunger Games. On reaping day you woke up in bed with Haymitch. “Here we go again,” you muttered dryly as you sat up.

“I know,” Haymitch agreed solemnly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Stay by me, I don’t want you to be taken without me knowing.”

You agreed, standing up to get ready for the day.

As mentors you were allowed on the train whenever you wanted so once Haymitch was ready you headed over. As for the reaping, news had reached you that Katniss Everdeen had volunteered for her little sister. “She just signed her own death certificate but hey, at least sponsors will like her,” Haymitch said.

“Hopefully not too much,” you muttered.

Soon enough the train was moving and you had finally convinced Haymitch to go out to meet the kids. You walked into the dining room as Effie, District 12’s escort was talking to the kids. “Ah, and these are Y/N and Haymitch, your mentors!” she said excitedly.

Haymitch made a beeline for the alcohol while you went to go sit in front of the tributes. “Peeta, Katniss,” you greeted.

“So where do we start?” Peeta asked eagerly.

“Woah is that how you talk to a lady?” Haymitch interrupted, bringing you your drink. You definitely weren’t as much of a drinker as Haymitch but you certainly drank to take the edge off occasionally.

“Sorry,” Peeta mumbled, looking down at his feet in embarrassment.

“Don’t be. And don’t listen to Haymitch, he’s a drunk,” you dismissed playfully. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I know you guys are angry, scared, whatever. I’m going to try my best to help you, prepare you… get you sponsors,” you added after a second, knowing what that meant for you.

“Let me handle to sponsors,” Haymitch cut in. “And as long as you’re going to be productive, I don’t need to be here,” he said, going back to his aloof persona he presented to everyone but you. He pressed a kiss to your temple before heading back to no doubt your room, bringing a bottle of whiskey with him.

“I didn’t realize you two were…” Peeta trailed off.

“Not many people do. And we were all each other had after my games,” you shrugged. “Like I said I’m going to try to ensure your survival but I will say this— the life of a Victor is a tortured one. Keep that in mind before you’ve gone through the torture of the games only to die at the end, having fought so hard for no reason.”

“Is that really how you feel?” Katniss asked, the first words she had uttered to you.

“Yes,” you had uttered point blank. “I don’t have the same fate as most Victors but had I known what was coming I think I would’ve stepped off that platform before the timer hit zero.” They sat in your words for a second, not sure what to say. “As for the games there are two basic methods. Either go out of the gate killing everyone you can, which will make you a target and you’ll likely be killed in the bloodbath. Or you can hide for a little while, wait out the masses. As District 12 I strongly encourage you to run away from the cornucopia. That knife, sword, spear, bow and arrow,” you looked at Katniss, “whatever is not worth getting trapped by another tribute because you will more than likely lose. These careers have not only been training their entire lives, their bodies are better prepared to fight which brings me to my next advice. Eat now. Food is fuel and the more fuel you have, the longer you can go.”

“Is that how you won your games? Running away?”

“Yes and no. I stalked other tributes. The girl from district 5 my year? I waited for her to fall asleep then I stole her supplies.”

“Did you kill her in her sleep,” Katniss pressed. You felt like she was daring you to reveal yourself as a monster.

“Yes,” you relented, challenging her stare. “I cut her carotid in her sleep. I couldn’t face what I had done so I ran. I then killed every career tribute in my games by sneaking up on them and killing them from behind. So watch your back and wait for the others to show you theirs. Like I said the life of a Victor is a tortured one.”

“So should we utilize that strategy?” Peeta asked, breaking up the tension.

“Theoretically yes but there’s also strategy before the games. You’re going to be out on display, then you’re going to have three days of training, and your final chance to get sponsors before the arena is your interview. Unfortunately as District 12 you’ll probably be coal miners, I was covered in coal dust and dragged down the strip half naked but you have a new stylist so hopefully it’ll be better. As for training, focus on survival. You’re not going to learn how to throw spears of knives in three days. After three days you show off your skills to the game makers who will give you a score. The higher your score the more likely you are to get sponsors. Of course you may want to lay low for that because a low score makes you not a threat. I scored a 3, one of the lowest in history. Johanna Mason from four years ago also won that way. As for your interview, Cesar is going to try to help you as best he can so be as charming as possible but that part is ultimately out of your hands. The Capitol people love District 1, after that they pretty much tune it out,” you rolled your eyes. “Then the next morning you’re brought to the arena. Any questions?” They both stared at you blankly. “Well if you’ll excuse me there’s pretty much nothing you can do on this train to prepare except eat so…” And with that you left, going to your and Haymitch’s room.

~

The next morning you were surprised to wake up alone for the first time in seven years. You made your way to the dining car in time for Katniss to stab next to Haymitch’s hand. You immediately felt a protective surge but it was quelled by Haymitch’s words. “Look at you, just killed a placemat,” he taunted, pulling the knife out of the table. “You really want to know how you survive? You get people to like you. Not the answer you were expecting, huh? You’re in the middle of the games and you’re starving or freezing. Some water, a knife, or even a few matches can mean the difference between life and death. And those things only come from sponsors and in order to get those you need to make people like you. And right now, sweetheart, you’re not off to a very good start.” Katniss looked like a kicked puppy, her tough demeanor probably having never been questioned since she was a provider within District 12.

“There it is!” Peeta exclaimed, dragging everyone’s attention from Katniss. Out of the window you could see the shiny buildings of the Capitol across the lake. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread every time you approached the Capitol. But here Peeta was, waving at the waiting crowds.

“Better keep the knife. He knows what he’s doing,” you commented, picking up a roll before sliding out of view of the window. You’re sure Snow would punish you if the people of the Capitol saw you in your pajamas.

Making your way into the bedroom, Haymitch followed you. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just have to get ready,” you dismissed, pulling out a sundress. “That was quite the speech you gave Katniss,” you changed the subject.

“She’s arrogant, she’s a fighter, she thinks she can win the games but she’s too arrogant and it rubs sponsors the wrong way.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with rubbing the sponsors the wrong way a little,” you sighed. “May save her if she does win.”

“But she needs sponsors to win,” Haymitch argued.

“You didn’t have sponsors,” you protested.

“Yeah but look at me now, a good for nothing drunk!” Haymitch raised his voice.

“Look at me!” you yelled. “I get dragged out of my home, out of my bed, out of your arms to be a slave to the very same sponsors who saved my life and it makes me want to end it all every day!” Tears stung your eyes now.

Haymitch froze. “You actually thought about killing yourself?” he asked in a broken voice.

The tears began to fall seeing how hurt he looked. You looked down, nodding almost shamefully. “I’m so tired of being used. But I haven’t because of you. Both because it breaks my heart to hurt you that way and because you’ve given me a reason to live.”

“Y/N…” Haymitch said softly, reaching out to you.

“We have to go,” you brushed off, not wanting to deal with what you had just revealed. Wiping your tears you quickly changed before leaving the train. You put on a sweet smile, hoping your eyes weren’t too puffy as you stepped off the train, waving and smiling at the Capitol citizens.

You were quickly brought to the tribute’s building where you met up with the other trainers in the lobby. “Finnick!” you greeted your only friend.

“Y/N!” his face brightened. “How are you?” he asked greeting you with a hug.

“I’m good,” you answered. “Where’s Annie?” you asked, looking around for the redhead.

“She wanted to stay home this year so Mags filled in,” he nodded to the older woman who was listening to Beetee’s rambling. “Where’s your shadow?”

“Uh I don’t know… we got into a little spat on the train over the tributes,” you answered a little embarrassed.

Before Finnick could respond, two peacekeepers came up to you. Both yours and Finnick’s hearts dropped, not sure who they were here for. Games season was when you both were busiest. “Y/N L/N, please come with us,” one ordered.

You sighed in defeat. “Tell Haymitch,” you requested, looking at Finnick. He nodded as you walked out of the lobby, one peacekeeper behind you, the other in front.

~

Haymitch eventually stumbled into the lobby with the other former victors after quickly downing half a bottle of whiskey. His mind was reeling with the idea that you had wanted to kill yourself. But since you didn’t want to deal with it, he didn’t have to deal with it either.

He walked into the lobby, finding Chaff from 11. “Hey Chaff, have you seen Y/N?”

“Hey, I’m sorry Haymitch, haven’t seen her. I’m surprised you let her out of your sight,” Chaff chuckled. “How are you two?”

“Oh we’re good except we got in a little spat on the train. Nothing big it was just about our tributes. Thanks though, I’ll catch you later,” Haymitch said, already walking away. He searched through the faces of the crowd, becoming increasingly frantic and afraid for you. He continued scanning for yours until he spotted an all too familiar one. “Finnick!” Haymitch called.

“Haymitch! There you are,” Finnick said in relief although he still looked frantic. “Look, I gotta talk to you-”

“They took her, didn’t they?” Haymitch finished cynically. “God I let her get away from me for one minute and they swoop in like-”

“Haymitch she’ll be back before you know it,” Finnick tried to calm him down. “She’ll be alright, she’s dealt with this before.”

Haymitch didn’t say anything, instead pulling out a flask to take a swig. He felt so guilty and angry at himself for not being there for you. He also knew you were scared, every time you came back you were shaking in fear.

Soon after the mentors were allowed to go up to their rooms and Haymitch had to suffer through the long elevator ride as it had to stop at every floor to allow the other mentors to get off on their floors.

When Haymitch reached District 12’s floor he was itching for a drink, his flask having long been emptied. He made a beeline for the bar, pulling out some scotch. He took a swig, savoring the burn as a way to distract himself before pouring it into his flask for later. He then stumbled his way to his room, freezing when he saw a vase full of white roses on the dresser. He picked it up, nearly dropping it due to his anger and drunkenness, bringing it to an avox. “Get rid of it,” he ordered, knowing that it was a sign from Snow that he was always watching.

Haymitch eventually passed out, waking up only when the door whirred open. He opened his eyes to find you looking through the closet to find something to wear. The sundress you were still wearing was a little ripped at the hem and at one of the straps. When you turned around he could see hickies littering your neck and chest. Seeing what someone had done to you Haymitch lurched out of bed, realizing what he had thought were hickies covering your neck were fingerprint shaped bruises. Someone had choked you so hard they left most of their handprint on your neck and arms. Haymitch had seen you in the post sex-slave state more times than he could count but it had never been this bad. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s not like it matters, we can’t do anything,” you dismissed, your voice hoarse from crying or screaming, probably both. You went to move past him and into the bathroom but he grabbed your arm. You quickly pulled out of his grasp, his heart dropping into his stomach when he saw fear painted across your face.

“Oh- no- I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. You know I’d never hurt you,” Haymitch pleaded with you to forgive him. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him, the one person who was supposed to protect you. “Let me start a bath,” he said, leaving no room for objection as he rushed into the bathroom.

Fortunately the Capitol’s plumbing system was way better than District 12’s because the bath filled up with warm water and bubbles in only a few minutes. Haymitch went back out into the bedroom to find you already naked, a small blanket wrapped around you. “I couldn’t stand to be in that dress anymore,” you explained bashfully.

You made your way into the bathroom looking at him hesitantly before you dropped your blanket. “I’ve seen you naked a hundred times,” Haymitch tried to laugh to lighten the mood. You tried your best to give him a smile, dropping the blanket to reveal more bruises before quickly submerging yourself into the tub. As you did, Haymitch came to kneel next to you. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I will be. If this is what I’ll be doing from now on I’ll just have to get used to it I guess.”

“How long have you been suicidal?” he asked gently.

“Hay-” your protests were suddenly cut off by his voice again.

“You’ve been feeling this way for god knows how long and I never even noticed!” he said, mostly angry with himself.

You sighed. “Ever since I realized that this,” you gestured to your body, “would be my life.”

“Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” you dismissed. “You’ve kept me alive. I’m only here because of you.” You reached a hand out to cup his jaw, running a thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned over the tub and you met him half way, enjoying his always gentle kisses compared to the rough ones the Capitol stole from you.

~

Two days of training went past and the five of you were eating dinner. “Tomorrow is your final day of training and then you’ll be individually evaluated by the game makers for your score so start to think about what you want to show them should you decide to go for a high score to get sponsors,” you advised.

“Katniss can shoot,” Peeta said. “I’ve seen it. She brings deer to us. My dad always talks about how she shoots them right in the eye, keeps the pelts from getting damaged,” he explained both optimistically and with a touch of frustration.

“Okay good, show them your skills and I can guarantee there will be a bow in the cornucopia,” Haymitch said.

“Peeta’s strong,” Katniss added, frustration evident in her tone. “I’ve seen him throw a hundred pound sack of flour over his head.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone with flour,” he protested.

“But you can fight. You have a chance-”

“I have no chance!” Peeta interrupted Katniss. “When my mother came to say goodbye she said District 12 may finally have a winner. She wasn’t talking about me, she was talking about you!” The table sat in stunned silence. I felt for him, it’s hard to go into the arena with absolutely no one cheering you on. He stormed off, Katniss following not even a minute later along with Effie shouting about manners.

Uncomfortable with the lingering tension you turned to Haymitch, a playfully quizzical look on your face. “Why’d he say ‘District 12 may finally have a winner?’ I won 7 years ago.”

Haymitch chuckled into his glass. “I don’t know about you but everyone remembers my victory.”

“That was like 24 years ago, grandpa,” you poked fun at him.

He laughed, grabbing a bottle of wine. “Take your glass,” he said with a mischievous smile. You didn’t question him, grabbing your glass and following him, giggling like a teenager.

He led you to the back of the penthouse where there was a decently hidden set of stairs that led to the rooftop. You stood in awe of the sparkling city below you. “Y’know as hellish as this place actually is it’s very pretty at night,” Haymitch said, taking a gulp of wine.

“You're right about that one,” you agreed, reaching for the bottle to fill up your glass. You turned your attention upward, disappointed to see the sky. “There’s no stars because of all the light,” you commented sadly.

“At least it’s not covered in smog,” Haymitch offered, referring to the eternal coal smoke emanating from District 12.

“Do you remember that night we spent in District 11 during my tour? The sky was so clear you could actually count the stars.”

“Hmm I remember making you see stars,” Haymitch said cheekily.

You gave him a playfully scolding look, “Shut up.” While sex in the Capitol was a job to you— a task you had to complete— sex with Haymitch was about intimacy. You had been hesitant at first, still traumatized by your first experience but Haymitch allowed you to take your time and eventually you were close enough with him to go all the way.

“What?” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you seriously going to tell me I’m wrong?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head a little. “Don’t get too cocky,” you giggled. Haymitch laughed too as he tilted your head back to meet your lips in a drunken kiss.

Part I | Masterlist | Part III

[technologyculturedneo]

It Burns | Lee Mark

"I bet you if the roles were reversed, if I went out there and fucked another woman while you were here with our child- you wouldn't even spare a moment to listen."

Pairing. Boyfriend!Lee Mark X Girlfriend!Reader

Genre. Angst. Established couple. Break up. Lovers to ex's.

Synopsis. With your half naked pictures circulating around social media, Mark waits for you to get home to have a talk.

Warning. Minor cusses. Low-key smut. Breakup. Your heart might get broken.

Playlist. Nct Dream My first love. Literally First burn Hamilton.

Part 2: It burns: The second time around

"So dad, you finally noticed," Mark's low chortle is a result of his 9 year old son standing next to him and reaching the height of his shoulder. Looking up into his dad's eyes with sleezy cocky eyes he speaks. "You're getting old dad,"

"What, you think I feel intimidated by a short version of me?" Mark shuts his phone chugging it back into his pocket looking for some stashed biscuits in the kitchen cabinets. His sister sent him a message, but it'd have to wait as his son looks like he's ready for his late night dessert.

"I'm a better version, built differently from the ground up,"

"Boy please, you know you're built from the DNA of your mother and I," Mark plays along and moves to the next cabinet with his son still following. "Speaking of which, it's about time she gets back, don't you think?"

"Look at you avoiding the topic," He smirks once before turning serious and looking smug. "Face it old man, soon I'll take over,"

"I'm not going anywhere," Mark, with another low chuckle, finally finds the stash in a medium sized basket. "Now mum said, you'll get one, but I'mma be cool and give you 5 since you've grown a little,"

"A little?" His son pulls of a smirk causing Mark to stare at him in amusement and confusion. His son is a comedian. Mark tries to be serious but his face exposes him as someone seconds away from bursting out in a laugh. "How does that make you feel dad?

Mark leans on the counter platform while his son tries to be cool and eats from the packet of his chocolate biscuits while still dipping it in his milk like a child. Mark tries (evidently) hard to wipe the smile of his face and be serious, but he can't help when his shoulders shudder and he laughs.

"Ethan, you're 9 and I'm 24. I'm a classic, buddy you're just a remake no one asked for. A lazy cash grabber if I may add," Mark jokes maintaining his composure when Ethan, his 9 year old son, scoffs and does a 'pfft' in disbelief.

"I'm a successor. Isn't that why you and mum made me?"

"You only exist to mow my lawn for cheap," Mark gets Ethan in a headlock ruffling his hair.

"Who do you think I am? Child labor?" Ethan peeks at his dad with such smooth eyes- almost trying to charm him.

Mark ends up just looking at his son with a smile, not minding the almost so called intimidating persona. "It's called an allowance son, it's for you to know your place in the house,"

"My place?" Ethan scoffs getting back his smirk. In that moment Mark thinks to himself how he should cut down Haechan and Ethan's meeting time. Slowly but surely Mark can see Haechan in his son, and that's not something he'd be too thrilled about. It'd be fun, but Mark wouldn't be able to take his own son seriously- just like Haechan. "My place will soon be the man of the house,"

That's Mark's cue to laugh out loud standing up straight and smacking the back of Ethan's head. "Should I remind you who's in charge?"

"Dad you think those old tricks would still work on me?" Ethan stands in front of his dad with a proud and arrogant smirk. He's probably enjoying this as much as his dad. After all Ethan enjoyed fooling around with his dad- more than you, his mum. "I've outgrown you father. I'm sleeping on my own tonight. No need to tuck me. Be sure to tell mum I closed the light." And with that Ethan winks with a clicking sound leaving his lips. "I guess I should be the one telling you then, it's passed your bed time."

Mark stands in amusement, astonishment and shock. He can only chuckle to himself once Ethan is gone. Staying alone in the kitchen, Mark reminisces on the conversation he had with his son and can't help but faintly chuckle every time. Although he spends almost all his time with his son, his son always seemed to amaze him each and every single time. And tonight, he would definitely fill you in on Ethan's humor. "He thinks he has rizz,"

He takes a seat after drinking some water and checks the time. You should've gotten home by now. But for some reason it's past 10pm and you're not in the house. Mark sighs and shrugs his shoulders deciding to wait for you in the living room.

When he mentioned he had a day off today he was expecting a netflix and chill paradise with you (as he rarely saw you because of his tight work schedule) yet you were quick to exclude him from your plans with the girls and needed him to watch over Ethan. He didn't mind, he was relaxed about it too.

But when time went by and he fetched Ethan like he normally did on all days, he thought you'd be home since Ethan finished school around 4pm. You were always home around 4-5pm. So naturally the house was always vibrant whenever he came home, but this time when he came home and the house was the same as he left it- he was a little downcasted but shrugged it off and made food with his son.

Well from there on, it became a regular father and son afternoon. Which again, Mark didn't mind.

Despite his hectic schedule, Mark always tried and never failed to make time for both his girlfriend and son. And this time Ethan got a whole lot of time with his dad.

Everyone was happy.

Mark checked in on you a couple of times, to which you responded with how you were alive. Mark smiled it off adding how he wanted you to have fun.

Honestly, Mark partially felt guilty most of the times when it came to you.

He was only 16 and you were 15. What the hell could the two of you possibly know about sex? It was an experiment you both tried. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Nothing wrong there. The problem is, it only takes one time for a seed to be planted. Neither of you had condoms, and were both sure that you weren't going to be pregnant.

That's until, the bump started to form.

Although it wasn't Mark's body, he was anxious. You kept brushing it off saying that it's because you loved eating like the food hungry joyful pig you were.

But when days and months passed, and your friends jokes began to simmer down, and his friends would joke of you actually being a mum, and your parents began worrying- it was bound for you to start taking things seriously.

There's no way you were pregnant. Mark was positive and it didn't help that he was religious and kept believing that the mistake experiment you both made would not lead to a life changing moment.

You secretly went to the store with him to buy a pregnancy test. The cashier was surprised seeing you and him but you both joked it off that it was for your mum. So being safe at your house, you peed on the purple stick and both you and Mark relaxed and waited for the results. Nothing could prepare you both for the results of the test.

Mark claimed that it had to be fake and that you needed to go to the hospital. He went with you, hand in hand like the loving boyfriend he was and made sure to be more calm while you were freaking out and afraid of the results and most worryingly- your parents reactions.

There was nothing you both could do when the results came out. Your lips kept trembling. You wanted to cry- and you did cry.

You were pregnant.

Mark impregnated you.

Despite him always being the sweetest of boyfriends you could ever have asked for- you hated him. And you made sure to let him know how he ruined your life. Every word you said, every action that came after was a result of the shock you had after receiving the results. But your words were still in Mark's head. Permanently.

And to this day Mark felt partially at fault that you never had a normal teenage life. Despite your confidence you were crushed at the rumors spreading about you. They always say that the only voice that's loud is your thoughts, but actually it can also be a bunch of strangers that you don't know. Everyone talked about you.

The girl who got pregnant at 15.

The girl who dropped out of school.

The disappointment child who threw her future away.

The dumb girl who forgot to use rubber.

You were slammed with comments virtually, physically and even inwardly.

Your parents, despite the shame you brought them, stuck to your side. Even though the comments of them being unfit and unworthy ran around their own respective families...they never let you go or talked down on you. And you were thankful for that.

Mark on the other hand; He didn't get worse of a treatment as you. In fact no one even knew him to be the one who impregnated you. Except your friends and his friends, no one said a word to him. However, his parents weren't so supportive. They reprimanded him. And you know just how much Mark's parents mean to him, so for them to cast him out into the streets broke your heart.

Your parents took him in, and you both dropped out of school.

Without qualification, he managed to find work and has been working ever since. Despite Mark and his parents relationship being broken, his father was generous enough to continuously tell people that he had a son who was looking for work. Despite his father not seeing him- some of the best opportunities that came Mark's way were a product of his father's.

And with that, Mark made sure to never disappoint but rise to the table and make ends meet. For his girlfriend, his girlfriends parents, his parents, and of course the unborn child which they both chose to keep.

Mark was financially smart, so investments into right businesses, and profits in right settlements all came together and he was finally able to take care of his girlfriend and 2 year old child without being a hindrance to your family.

They never said it to his face, but he knew they accepted him into their house because you talked them into it.

But through it all, Mark never had a hard heart. He was remorseful and kept trying to make it up to you, your family and his family (who were slightly on communication terms...occassionally they wanted to meet their 'grandson' and Mark and you.)

It was awkward going from a solidly good relationship with his parents the moment you started dating, to being in whatever zone is going on between them and you. They don't hate you, but they're not saying much to you or Mark. They visit Ethan once a year and aren't that big into his life, our yours or even Mark. You don't know exactly how to feel.

But Mark doesn't wear it over his head, or shoulders...he's always....okay.

Which is why at 3am, driving back in an uber to your house where you believe your husband could be sleeping, you try not to get too worked up and panicked when noting that all your drunk texts (screenshots) and hinged pictures of you with your... You choke up on your tears and fan yourself for the tears to go away.

You told Mark you had to spend time with the girls- but really you had to resolve matters before it got out of hand. You've failed to resolve the matter, you've failed to keep it all at bay with Jaemin (a man who's not your boyfriend), you've failed in keeping Jaemin just as a secret. And now the whole of the internet has an idea that you were sleeping with somebody else's boyfriend, while you had your own. Shivering, still with tears in your eyes you look at your phone and try not to cry.

You breathe in and out calming yourself down, trying not to dsiplay emotions on your face. "Mark isn't gonna kill you. He won't get mad. You're okay, okay? Don't cry," You repeat over and over earning cryptic looks from the uber driver. But you could care less about that. Right now your mind is on the floating pictures all around social media with your best friend (the same person who released the pictures) Ryujin's caption:

Since you like meddling in people's relationships so much- why not spill a couple of your secrets too </3 Bitch who slept with my man.

Actually it's by grace, chance, luck that you and Mark stayed together. After finding out you were pregnant, some weeks passed and you both came clean to your parents. Mark was always there despite your anger, but lowkey even if you never said it out loud you were happy to always have him even in your roughest of moments. And right now, you hope that he can be understanding.

You don't want to hurt him. You don't want to break his trust. You don't even know why you kept meeting up with Jaemin when everything was just so perfect with Mark.

Paying the driver, getting out the car and stepping onto the porch of the new house Mark bought a week ago, you sigh out when seeing all the lights closed.

Walking up the drive way and using your key to open the doors, you pray in your head that Mark is sleeping.

Locking the doors, you make your way, tip toeing through the hallway, the living room and the kitchen where Mark is seated while gripping tightly onto his phone and covering his mouth tightly.

"Mark..."

"Wait, I'm getting to the best part," Mark holds his finger up with a disheartened smile on his face and a dry forced laugh leaving his lips. "He said, can you come over and then you said, my boyfriend's out, why don't you come over. And he responds with a giggling emoji saying what about your son, and you..." Mark huffs and bites on his lip shutting his eyes tightly.

When he opens them again, his clear eyes but right after blinking the glossiness of his tears sit around his eyes. But let's out another laugh. It sounds painful, heartbreaking and sad. You can only gulp your own lump.

"You said," Mark laughs lightly continuing to read on his phone. "You said his dad and him both went for a sleep over at his parents house. Come over... I'm... I'm lonely. I need you in me." Mark's face scrunches up in bitterness but a forged and forced smile stiffly remains. "He sent emojis, dirty ones. He sent a pic. You sent a pic. And then. You ask him to send the...pictures he took of you."

Mark can't help it, when the smile refuses to remain on his face and he simply bites on his quivering lip covering his eyes.

This time when his voice comes out, it's barely above a whisper, but you can still hear. Even worse because you can hear the pain laced in each and every deep rooted word he says. "Pictures in our room. On our bed. I bought this house last week, and you already invited him in? For how long?" He can't even speak anymore as the words choke up on his throat. "You said I was crazy,"

"Mark please," You quietly step into the kitchen with prayer hands while shaking your head and the tears making your vision blurry.

"You said I was crazy for even thinking it- but I saw the way you looked at him, the way you looked at my sister's lover." Mark breathes out again, a broken chuckle leaving his lips.

The guilt can't grow any higher then it is. You and Mark's adopted sister were always close since school- and when she introduced you to Mark you grew into an even stronger and tighter bond with her. So it doesn't make sense how you not only broke Mark's heart, but you broke Ryujin's trust as well.

"You didn't even have the fucking guts to tell me yourself? I'm guessing you broke it off tonight because you got caught in HD 4K - and you think you can talk your way into my arms right?"

His breathless laugh spreads in the quiet kitchen as he looks up with his eyes as glossy as ever. A vein poking on his forehead.

"You think you can talk your way into my arms because I'm such a nice guy right?" Mark sniffs and uses his back arm to wipe his eyes. "I need to get out of here-"

"Mark please don't go-" The tears slip quietly from your eyes while you hold onto him- your arms circling around his waist. "Please, I promise it's over. I didn't mean it baby, I love-"

"I fucking can't even ask you if it's true, because it's everywhere." He smiles tightly breaking free from your hug and moving back to the counter. "But I'm still gonna ask you, when were you gonna tell me?"

You try to move forward again yet he slams his fist against the counter. "Just fucking answer the question- don't touch me. Just answer it. When were you gonna tell me?"

"I promise Mark, I was gonna tell you," You pucker your trembling lips, your face breaking into an ugly cry just as you see his own tears coating his eyes again.

His eyes are on yours just for a second before he shakes his head and looks away. He sniffs and buries his face deep in his hands. "You wanna know what's worse?" He cries, but it morbidly turns into a laugh. He panes his gaze towards you, with the most broke look you've ever seen from Him. "These messages..." He covers his face before looking at you, his glossy eyes staring into your own guilty soul. "They date back to 4 years ago. You've been..." His eyes shut as the words fall out inaudibly. "Ryujin is my sister, your best friend. And you slept with him. I don't even know why I'm even believing and trusting in you when the pictures of your nudes are everywhere on my feed-"

"Mark," You words choke up as you take a step... stopping a few inches from him.

"Can you at least answer me why you did it?"

You shake your head taking another hesitant step- but immediately retreat when he sharply spins and punches the top drawers and cabinets. "Mark stop- please stop! Ethan is sleeping lets not wake him up-"

"Ethan?" Mark has to calm himself down, as he feels his emotions suffocating him. "You're going to think of Ethan now after you've just slept with another man? Fucked him for 4 fucking years behind my back and didn't have the slightest bit of remorse or even shame when sending your body- letting him take pictures of you bare and fucking you in my bed where I sleep with you, in our house-"

"I never meant for it-"

"Don't touch me, I can't-" He cuts himself off leaning over the counter only showing his back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," His curses so low. "We've been together for 9 years Y/n," His face scrunches and he bites on his lip. "And you chose to do this now? What happened? Speak to me. I need to hear your voice, please tell me that I really I am going crazy- that it's a fucking prank- because my stupid mind, body and soul refuses to believe that you cheated on me,"

He turns around and you move forward hugging him even as he pushes you off- you still attach your arms around him before trying to hold onto his hands. You try to pipe up trying to fight back on your own blurry eyes. "Mark I broke it off please don't-"

"Broke it off? Are you sure? Because the pictures of tonight, and the- the texts of your sluty conversation- the graphical back and forth nudes you've been sending- all those pictures are on the internet- everywhere- and you're telling me you broke it off? You're dressed like that and are smiling in every picture with him and you're telling me you broke it off?"

His eyes are in shock, there's sadness in his eyes. Mark who never cries looks like he's at his last straw before the tears would start rushing down. It doesn't even help that seeing you right now only takes you back to the images of tonight and how you looked like you were enjoying the feels of the man's hands being all over your body all those times.

When you left this morning, your attire of an open back- black long fitting dress with a dangerously high slit- didn't bother him. However now, after the pictures he saw of that same dress in a restaurant whereby you were smiling and confidently chatting with another man- that same dress that the man couldn't keep his hands off your legs- made his body quake with anger.

You cry and beg. "Mark please understand, it's over please just forget it. I'm sorry-"

"Online they're saying I'm insecure just because I've got a fine fucking woman, who's enjoying her life while the dad is at home with the child," Mark's lips rattle as he shakes his head in disbelief. "I bet you if the roles were reversed, if I went out there and fucked another woman while you were here with our child- you wouldn't even spare a moment to listen- you'd tell me everything that I've done wrong- you'd never forget, but now because it's you- I should be understanding? Okay? I should be... Cool with it all- that my fucking girlfriend is now accessible to anybody's viewing if they just type in your name right? I'm supposed to not make a fuss because I'm suddenly insecure that my girlfriend can go out, bag some guys, drink and party like she has no family."

You can't hold your tears anymore as they pour out your eyes, your tone in shreds as you stummer out. "Mark I love you so much, I would never-"

His eyes in sharp disbelief peer into your own remorseful eyes. "Don't even lie to me, I'm not fucking naïve!" It's starts with him thrusting his arm far back and throwing his phone against the wall breaking it into millions of pieces just like his heart- before his emotions run wild and he hits on the cabinets. "You don't fucking love me! You don't!" When he picks up the stool and thrashes it against the drawers breaking it- you step back in tears knowing that he's at his peak of anger.

"If you loved me you wouldn't have gone out there!" His voice broken with tears, broken with anger. He hammers the toaster on the floor. Knocks over the trays holding the glasses. "Behind my back! You fucking bitch! Do you even know how much we've suffered to be together!? My house! On my bed! With another man! You don't love me! How could you even! You fucking bitch do you even know how much I love you!?"

Pounds on the cabinets, still yelling his heart out making you cry as you back up. "Mark I'm sorry-"

Thuds, punches, slams against the counter, the glass cabinets. "Does any of this even matter to you?!"

"Mark Ethan-"

"4 years! Fucking 4 years Y/n!? Even you! You let him touch you for 4 years! You let him take my place for 4 years! FUCK!" Mark can't even hear- and when he breaks the glasses in one angry whip he furiously turns to you. "My parents made me chose between you and them and I fucking chose you- they didn't kick me out- I walked out of them because of you. And this is what you do? Y/n not even tw-two years? 4 years!?"

Mark grunts loudly and runs his hand over his head while looking at you. "You told the whole world how you brought a man into our bed?" The tears of anger sprawl out all over his face before he corners you against the wall. "How will you even explain to Ethan the pain you put me through? The embarrassment you put our family through? The shame- we were your legacy! We are your legacy! We fucking became family and then you-! You are my love! 4 years!"

Mark can't control himself anymore. Not wanting to hurt her as she's crying- he balls his fists and storms out the house.

Ethan, worried, anxious, shocked, sad and scared, crouches on the bottom stairs looking as his dad slams the door shut after he leaves. Too afraid to enter the kitchen with his wailing mother, he goes up the stairs quietly, gets under his covers and tries to sleep.

22 Hours after...

Your leg is shivering and bouncing up and down as you stare at your phone. Your tears still stinging your eyes. You messed up. You admit that you've messed up. That you possibly destroyed one for the best relationships you could ever ask for. You cried non stop the whole night in the kitchen, you couldn't even be quiet about it. The kitchen was in shreds with glass and broken objects everywhere. You couldn't even blame Mark for getting angry the way he did.

You felt so guilty and his reaction only made you feel even more guilty. You tried calling him, but remembered how he broke his phone. You tried calling Haechan and begged him to help you- he was just as pissed off at you the way Mark and his friends (Chenle and Jeno) were. But you still begged.

When morning came, you tried to compose yourself as you helped out a quiet Ethan get ready for school. You walked with him to school and came back home with the idea to start cleaning. You ignored all of Jaemin's calls and even blocked his number. You were also afraid to answer any of your other friends who would obviously call you out on your stupid behavior. You just cleaned with your head clouded and jumbled with thoughts.

It's not when Ethan came home did you find yourself in the living room, your leg bouncing as you stared at your phone. Ethan wanted to talk with his dad. And you just told him to change out of his school uniform and that by the time he came down, he'd talk to his dad.

But up till now, looking at the message that was sent to Haechan, you hold in your lips together as you sniff. You know he's found Mark. If he hadn't he would've called you. But since he's not calling, you know Mark's safe.

But none the less after you sent the message that you wanted to speak to Mark, you knew that that kind of approach wouldn't work.

So you type out:

Please Haechan, Ethan wants to talk to his dad Please, just this once help me out.

Ethan quietly comes up next to you with a saddened face and his hands together. You don't even know what to say except having your tears coat your eyes. Mark was right. How would you even begin to explain to him? And judging with how everything went down, you know that he most likely heard Mark's burst of anger and all the words that came out of him.

Before you can even open your mouth, your phone rings and you instantly pick it up. Your eyes double take on the contact and you gulp.

Mark's mother.

You compose yourself and lick your dry lips as you try not to cry. When you place the phone to your ear, you expect to hear his mother but... "Ethan?" Mark's voice.

You place the phone on speaker and turn to Ethan, signaling him that it's okay to talk. And he does, but his words are so heart quenching that you have to look away. "Dad," He chokes up on his tears and sniffs. "It hurts, badly."

"What hurts so bad my son?"

"My heart," He whimpers out. "I know I said my place is to be the man of the house, but I can't do it dad. I can't be the man dad,"

Mark over the phone can be heard breathing in and you can tell he's shaking his head in sadness. He tries to sound upbeat, but the words themselves aren't linking to how he wants to sound. "No buddy, don't apologize to me. It's me who was at fault, I'm sorry bud, I'm so sorry," Mark's voice is fragile, and you can hear how heavy they are. "Daddy didn't mean to lose his temper and break everything."

Ethan sniffs again and he hiccups. "Are you and mum gonna get a divorce? My friends said that when his parents broke up he started living with his mum, but dad I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be the man of the house, dad please don't leave mum, dad please come back, dad-"

"Darling put your mother on the phone." The stern yet smooth voice belonging to his mother catches you off guard.

"Yes ma'am?" You answer timidly trying to hold onto Ethan as he runs away from you hiding his tears.

"I've got 3 questions to ask you. Do you want to be with my son?" She asks off the bat.

"Yes ma'am." Your spine becomes straight as if she's right in front of you. "I love-"

"Are you willing to give Ethan up if per say you and my son had to breakup?"

"Ma'am please-"

"Are you willing to give Ethan up?" She asks more precisely. "Yes or no?"

"No, I can't-"

"What are you last words to my son?"

Your heart falls. The color fades from your face as though all the life you once had has been sucked out. "Ma'am please don't do this, I love him-"

"4 years is a long time and frankly, you put my son through a lot with your behavior and attitude. So it's either you say your last words, or I cut the call." Stiff and solidly cold is her tone to you as you cry. "You are not fit to be his anymore. You don't deserve my son-"

You hiccup, your eyes swelling up from how much you've cried. "Can I talk to him? Can I please just talk to him-"

"No."

Even before the call to cut, you can feel it in your soul. You can feel just how it painful, how it hurts and you can feel how your whole being burns.

-fin

Part 2: It burns: The second time around

[neopuppy]

I want to start writing and posting my very hush hush🤫 battle of the bands AU without anyone bothering me about updates. im not asking for a lot in actuality BUT……the way people act on here…

if I do this it would be a series. I think I will split up how each part gets posted too……since two groups are involved.

but also if it’s a waste of my time….I’ll just move along and keep rolling out one shots instead.

THIS WILL BE A CROSSOVER AU: nct dream/enhypen🤨

the premise: two childhood best friends(Heeseung/Jeno) fight over a girl in middle school and end up going to different high schools/both have little garage bands that play local shows but both gain notoriety in their districts, enough that a lot of people vote for them to make it to the top 5 for Battles of the Bands in their county

here’s where you come in- you are friends with the ‘00 liners and often help them sling demos/sell merch bc they let you go to all their shows for free, and offer to pay for stuff etc. throughout high school you always had the same boyfriend whose a year older than you and right before you’re ready to graduate you find out he’s been cheating on you in college. broken hearted and full of despair, your buddy Jeno’s like ‘hey if we win this battle of the bands thing we get a spot on Warped tour, you should come, it runs through summer. once in a lifetime opportunity.’

ur like nahhhh, but you go to the battle of the bands and meet their rival group(enha hyung line) for the first time and the singers REALLY into you, which leads to a run-in between him and *gasp* his ex-childhood bestie Jeno, they start talking shit to each other and you’re like😅😅😅??? ‘Why are you yelling at my potential rebound’ to which Jeno shouts ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! HIM(yes.. its heeseung) NEVER!!!!’

yaddayaddya blah blah……you end up going on the tour, both bands come in as the top 2 finalists, and it ends up being the most chaotic memorable summer of your life……tons of drama, LOTS of guys, a lot of hooking up, some feelings, some confessions, jealousy, first times, etc etc. very coming of age with y/n running train on the whole squad as usual. I want to also really focus on each character and sort of how they all ended up in their bands/became friends, very ‘my teenage angst has a body count’-esque. each character has a song attached to them that delves more into their personal story/persona, etc……it wouldn’t be a super long AU, but maybe.

these updates would be SLOW, not weekly!!!! and tbfh if you even ask me once🤏 abt updates I may block you. Boom was like the last series I rly consecutively updated and it STRESSED me out/ruined how fun it was to write toward the end bc of the constant nagging for updates. its actually so much more annoying to read that message more than anything…maybe..

I want to write this bc, I love both groups and I think this type of story is something *I* personally could make something really fun out of, but yeah, like I’ve explained… the ‘when are you posting again/when will you update’ etc or snarky ass ‘FINALLY YOU UPDATED’ etc…..don’t do that!!!

with that being said..…I dare to ask the audience…

[tizzypizza]

Top 7 idol list?

I was saving this so I could draw it at some point but oh my god I am SWAMPED and can't see myself with time to do it so top list umm.

1- Shiver. I think this is self-explanatory. I love Asian women so much (I'm Asian before anyone starts raising any eyebrows) and her personality is so funny. She's incredibly theatrical and dramatic and has this big persona that she puts on that falls apart SO quickly when it comes to her friends but otherwise she is fierce!! A force to be reckoned with!! But also a sopping wet little guy.

2- Marina. I love women in STEM I LOVE women in STEM so much. My two immediate draws are like... Traditional-looking Asian woman and Smart Woman so. Marina is such a fascinating character and it's always a shame to see her so heavily uwu-ified, she's super smart and she has a lot going on besides just her attachment to Pearl!! But TBH her attachment to Pearl is part of what endeared her to me. Girl who has experienced The Horrors and is kind of a living supercomputer becomes sappy mush when Girlfriend Flashbang. She was also the one who lowkey got me into Splatoon simply by being the prettiest Nintendo character I'd ever seen as a kid.

3- Pearl. I hesitate to put Pearl above Frye because really they're super tight in my head but the only thing that knocks her up a peg is that her dialogue is a lot more fun for me to write in English (Frye talks really interestingly too! She genuinely speaks like an old man in the Japanese but that's just not reflected in the English). I love her so much because at so many moments where she could choose to be snarky or witty with Marina or anyone else, she always chooses kindness and she's always so supportive in her own spunky little way. She's so genuine and fun and silly and self assured and confident and she's so COOL. I hate drawing her hair though. I actually used to kinda hate Pearl as a kid because I fell for the forehead propaganda but I know better now.

4- Frye. LIKE I SAID in my head Frye and Pearl are tied. I love Frye she's such a sweetheart and she has such a fun fierceness about her. She cares deeply for her friends and she keeps her cool the best out of all of her friends in Deep Cut and she DANCES!! Her character design is one of the most interesting designs I've had the pleasure of drawing a shit ton of times and despite being team Shiver nearly every time I get really sad whenever she doesn't win Splatfests :( She deserves it (and tbh I think she deserved to be the leader of Deep Cut but don't @ me on that)

5- Marie. I wish I had more opinions on Marie but given that my earliest hands-on exposure to Splatoon was Sp2 when my friend used to let me walk around as her Octoling and play a little bit of Salmon Run (lost outpost my beloved wherefore art thou) and I've never played Sp1 or 2's campaign I can't really say anything about her other than I think she's really pretty. I think she's often characterized as the more flippant and low-energy one which is a cool thing to see in an idol (who are typically meant to be all smiles) but she's also really silly! She cracks a lot of jokes in the Sp3 campaign!! She's also just really cool and really pretty and white is one of my favorite colors

6- Big Man. LISTEN!!!! I LOVE HIM I REALLY DO BUT Frye-Pearl are soooo close together in my head and I feel only a little less strongly about him than Pearl but I really really love him. He's a blast to draw and honestly he's a lot more fun in the Japanese since Frye and Shiver have extremely thick accents and he's the only one who talks like Just Some Guy. He helps reign them in but he can rarely control them. He's such a lovable little dude.

7- Callie. Love the girl but I've never once resonated with her. I don't do well in the way of happy-go-lucky fun types but I don't hate her! I think she's got a lot of room to be interesting. My friend characterizes her with some flaws relating to like. Octarian prejudice which I think is pretty dope. And I'm not a huge pink fan... But I WILL say she is one of the most fun to draw.

[packedlunchmeat]

COMMISSION ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

HOWDY Y’ALL!!!!

I’m deciding to open commissions once more! And finally making them public rather than just offering to friends.

This took a TON of deliberation, as I fear as an artist being taken advantage of for my time. And so, before we get into pricing and my boundaries as an artist, lets talk ground rules! Just so you, as a potential customer, understand my expectations as the artist.

(Also please be patient with me as I work 12 hour shifts at a hospital, so it may take a few weeks to get to yours if it’s behind a lot of others in the queue)

RULES & EXPECTATIONS

First come, first serve

This is mainly because I like to prioritize those who come to me first. With this being said though, if you express interest in a commission from me, but do not state what you are wanting, as well as a price range you are going for, I will prioritize a person who has already given me a commission request. Basically! I put you in the queue the moment we have a request worked out! :-)

No revisions after a finalized sketch

This is mainly to protect myself as the artist, and you as the customer from being in a perpetual revision cycle, after already finalizing the sketch. If you aren’t happy with something, please let me know before I begin the line art process! Once I begin to do line art or color, I enter a zone where doing any sort of serious revision could cause the quality to diminish!

Make sure it’s my art you are wanting!

I do do a plethora of art style mocks like persona 5 eye cut ins, as well as other sorts of persona art style stuff. But I don’t wish to copy another artists style thats already offering commissions. If you’re wanting a certain style that isn’t adjacent to mine, you’re better off saving up for the artist you truly wish you could commission :-). I like to feed into fandom wants and needs, but I don’t want to take away from other freelance artist’s business.

I will not send the art until paid

 Since I manage to work rather fast, I don’t mind making pieces that don’t get paid for, as any piece I do is good practice!! That being said, I won’t send my art until I have proof of payment for the time I spent on it. I will always be super clear on which part of the process I am in, but to protect myself from being scammed, I cannot send the piece until payment is proven.

DETAILS

Now lets get into the fun stuff!! To start, I do not charge my commissions based on how complex the art is, rather, how long it took me to make it. Which is the reason I can’t ask for up front payments. I charge, instead, by the hour. And my pricing is based on my state’s minimum wage. The software I use to make my art (Procreate) tracks the elapsed time I’ve spent drawing, and so I calculate the owed amount based upon that. So, to start:

I CHARGE $15 AN HOUR (USD)

METHOD OF PAYMENT IS THROUGH PAYPAL.

Now that that’s out of the way, here’s what I CAN and CAN’T draw!!

THINGS I ABSOLUTELY WILL DRAW:

Character references! (TTRPG CHARAS, OCS, ETC.)

Armor (I can do mecha, but because of the complexity it may bump up the price just because of how long it takes)

Main stream art style replication (Persona 2D Sprites, Ace Attorney, Steven Universe, The Owl House, and a few others as well)

People

Portraits

Couples (hugging, kissing, holding hands, cute stuff :3)

Inklings & Octolings (anything splatoon related pretty much)

THINGS I CAN DRAW (BUT WILL PREFACE WITH THE FACT THAT I AM LESS SKILLED IN THESE AREAS)

Furries

Animals/pets

Scenery

Pixel art

Vehicles

Weapons (this ones tricky because I can draw swords pretty quick, guns take quite a bit of effort to get right though)

THINGS I WILL NOT DRAW

NSFW/suggestive content

Gore

With the parameters out of the way, I’d like to talk about pricing now! Since I charge by the hour, I’d like to make it clear that I am 100% willing to work with money difficulties! I draw pretty fast, but as there are certain things that cause my pieces to take longer, it’s only fair I let you all know what those are, so that you can know what to avoid if you’re wanting some art from me!

THINGS THAT WILL CAUSE MY ART TO TAKE MORE TIME!

Lineless

Complex mecha/outfits

Complex props (e.g. instruments)

Anything in my CAN DRAW list

Complex backgrounds

And lastly…

EXAMPLES OF QUALITY OF WORK

(With time spent and how much they’d be priced)

ROUGH FULL BODY

Time spent: 30m

Calculated price: $7.50

STYLIZED TAROT

Time spent: 2h 16m

Calculated price: $34.00

SIDE ORDER LINELESS

Time spent: 3h 44m

Calculated price: $56.00

FYNN 1920S ‘IT’ GIRL PIERROT

Time spent: 5h 24m

Calculated price: $81.00

Anywho!! If anyone is interested, please DM me! I’ll hand over my discord so you can send me pictures easy :-)! Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!!

[sassyfrassboss]

I do think Harry is a much more involved parent...

Sorry but based on what tho? He stays in hotels hours away and admitted it himself in Waaagh that he was an absent parent. Whenever he mentioned the kids he came across as not knowing anything about kids like when he said that a 6 month old Archie was admiring the scenery in Vancouver lol Kids are a lot of work and he's lazy and probably gets bored after spending 15 min with them.

So I don't get why it's assumed that he's a more involved parent and frankly why people even want him to be. This is a guy who fantasized about blowing up his father and seemed to be high all the time in his book and you just know that in reality his drug use is likely to be much worse. He beat up his bodyguards and abused animals and allegedly sex workers. He's filled with so much resentment and hate for his family that it's pretty much guaranteed that he'd poison those kids too with it. He didn't care about their safety when he boasted about killing the Talibans. This guy is an unstable, violent, hateful and reckless drug addict. He's utterly unfit to be a parent. She could v well be worse but so far there's nothing factually to assume that he's a better and more involved parent.

The better scenario for the kids in the circumstances would probably be a benign neglect by their parents with a loving nanny raising them instead.

On that note, and generally speaking, I see it all the time - people assuming that he's somehow better than her just because - and it frankly amazes me at this point. He's not and is arguably worse since it's his family that they've been abusing and trying to destroy and the way he had treated his grandparents in their final years is just unconscionable and frankly unforgivable imo. But people can't seem to get away from his old PR-created persona even when it has since been revealed to be a mirage and make the assumption based on that. But it just shows how much better and more successful a con man he is than her for whom it takes all 5 min for most people to see thru. Remember how he smirked when he said that people didn't know the real him in an interview years ago? Yeah. Even now many seem willing to get conned yet again and think that somehow the good lad Harry will be back after deprogramming once she's gone.

And that's one of the reasons why I don't want them to divorce. I have no doubt that most of the now anti Sussex crowd (and the media ofc) will turn around and be back to babying this asshole and blaming it all on her. And I believe he knew that he could always count on that when he married her and that's why he's the worst. He's weaponized her against those who had done nothing but cared for him while also using her as a shield and to whitewash himself and will use her as a scapegoat in the end cos it's what he always does. He never takes responsibility for anything in his life and that's why he's unredeemable. He doesn't deserve all that goodwill and it's utterly wasted on him since he will undoubtedly squander it all again after a while like he always had cos the problem is and has always been him. And the problem with him is that he's a viscious asshole who doesn't a damn about anyone other than himself. And his problem -- the main reason for this saga -- is his deep-seated envy and futile desire to best his brother, the outcome of which had already been decided the moment they were born.

SORRY for the long rant lol

Don’t be sorry!

I do see all of your very valid points.

I just think that he is more likely to be more involved because of how little she is involved.

Harry has so so so many faults and issues. Between his jealousy and stupidity…

[filmbyjy]

TOY POODLE SUNGHOON (1)

— main HYBRID masterlist

SUMMARY: you were in your 3rd year of college, you needed a job since you did not just want to laze around during the holidays. what better way than to get a job at the ice rink where you've trained before. you just didn't expect your co-worker to be so...handsome.

warnings: idk if there is any but if there is do tell me!!

word count: 538 words

NOTE: before anyone gets confused, you trained for 7 years. which means you started liking ice skating at 8 years old. trained more seriously by 10 and ended ice skating at 15. hence it's 7 years.

as a child, you've always loved the cool air blowing against your skin. it was a nice feeling. we all knew that autumn and winter only came around once a year so you couldn't always experience it.

which was why, your mom had brought you to an ice skating rink. she urged you to go over and enjoy skating on the slippery surface (after a short training with an instructor for first timers, of course).

shortly after getting the hang of ice skating, you start to realise how fun it was. that same afternoon, you had begged your mom to sign you up for skating classes. before you knew it, by the age of 10, you were taking it seriously. the adrenaline never leaving you.

however, all good things must come to an end. by the time you turned 15, you stopped training to focus on school more. you had dreams of becoming an ice skater but you couldn't face the huge crowd. not when you had stage fright. sure, you won a couple gold medals in your 7 years but it was simply it.

now you were 20, coming back to the rink in 5 years. it was your 3 year in college now. you were almost done with it, you were planning to get a small side job as a ice skating teacher down at the local rink you used to play at. it would at least sustain you for the time being during your break.

"hi, i'm here to talk to chaewon?" you asked the moment you spot a staff. you didn't notice who you stumbled upon but the moment your eyes met with his. you were in awe.

his white ears adorning his white/silverish hair, a small fluffy tail wagging as he stares at you. god, why was so handsome too!

oh he was a hybrid. just like your friends in college.

"oh, she's in the back. would you like me to call her?" the boy says.

"umm sure." he nods before going over to bring out chaewon.

the said girl only grumbles as she's being ushered out of the storage room. she stops the moment she meets you.

"oh (name)!!" chaewon smiles before hugging you. her long striped tail curling up around your ankle (a welcome thing she does). "i'm so sorry, i got caught up in the organising the storage room. forgot you were coming over. anyways, you've already got the job! so would you like to help me or help sunghoon over here with the kids?"

oh so the fine man's name was sunghoon.

"it's been a while since i've been on ice so i'd like to take a spin at taking care of the kids." you say. chaewon smiles.

"that's the spirit! i'll leave you and sunghoon to handle this then. the kids get a little rough at times so be careful." chaewon warns. you nod.

you turned to sunghoon.

"well, get your skates on. we have to supervise some kids coming at 1pm." sunghoon says before he walks away. it was a completely different persona to how he was when he first noticed you.

something about this tells you, sunghoon did not really welcome you. just a thought.

-

taglist[open]: @nyfwyeonjun @luvkait @hello-stranger24 @cowsidfk @tzuyusluv @beans-and-jeanes

[unfathomable-mortal]

Tristan Dugray: The One That Got Away

First things first, Tristan was an ass. There's no sugar coating it, no defense against it.

The thing that intrigues me is that his character clearly had a purpose. He didn't just show up throughout the entire first season just for the sake of having rory be in a love triangle, partially he did. He was going somewhere. There was mentions of his family life, particularly his parents and his grandfather. Then there was his messy dating history and troublemaker persona.

That's more than dean was ever given and he stayed for 5 whole seasons.

ASP said in interviews that Tristan was supposed to be Rory's "christopher" and they were supposed to be an on and off thing throughout rory's school and later college life. Which makes sense because later when Logan comes around, he's basically tristan 2.0.

Now if it wasn't for CMM's abrupt exit from the show, rory and tristan would've started dating in either season 2 or 3. Another thing I heard is that jess was written in to be a filler character for him. If jess wasn't there, then we probably would've seen Tristan outbidding Dean at the bid-a-basket festival (he's rich. duh) and they had already kissed once in season one and their kiss at the end of season 2 would've been like a kind of resurgence. It also would've made sense for dean to be insecure over tristan given the history in the previous season. Also, paris and rory have a falling out over francie in season 3. I could see it happening because rory starts dating tristan.

It's pretty obvious rory was going to date a "bad boy" at one point. That's why Jess was introduced as a stark contrast to dean.

Now, even though he's a jerk, he's so much fun to watch on screen. CMM play's in a way that's so charismatic like one example I can give is Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl. You hate these guys but you still wanna see them. A lot of the love that these characters get from fans not excluding myself stems from the fact that they're played by conventially attractive actors. I think it's important to point that out. jess and logan also falls into this but dean's character decline becomes so sour that nothing can save it.

It would've been so much fun to see this story but then again if that happened, paris and rory never wouldve became friends and we never wouldve gotten the jess storyline (with which we struck gold) So, I guess its better that tristan left.

I think of it as a very entertaining alternate reality.

[o0anapher0o]

The prayer scene in ep 4. Once again there is so much going on.

For one it’s the only time we see ‘Rashid’ in a non-professional capacity. In every other scene he’s there as Louis right hand/blood bag; this is the only time we see him not working. Which means there is no immediate practical purpose for it (intradiagetically). In his other scenes Armand is organising/arranging things, keeping an eye on Louis, managing the household/the interview/Daniel’s treatment, making cocktails, guiding Daniel places. There is always a practical and obvious reason to why he is in the room at any given moment. They might not always be particularly good reasons (otherwise he couldn’t just leave at a whim whenever someone isn’t happy for him to be there), but you can bet if asked why he’s there he’d have an answer.

When he’s praying there is no reason at all. There isn’t even a reason for why he would be praying. Even if we assume this version of Armand is a devout Muslim who does pray regularly (for which we have no evidence, nor any against it. Only being brown doesn’t automatically mean he has to be hereditarily Islamic.), why would he do it in the room next to Daniel within hearing range of the old man. Surely he has his own room somewhere in the penthouse where he could go about it undisturbed. And if it’s just a part of the Rashid persona why include it at all. Because Daniel would expect a servant from Dubai to be a devout Muslim? Then why immediately undercut it by admitting he’s not from Dubai (ref back to not all brown people…)?

For some reason he wants Daniel to see him pray. Of course, the obvious answer is to mess with Daniel some more. The thing is though none of the incidents of Louis and Armand messing with Daniel are random. They always fit with the part of the story Louis is telling in that episode. The deliberately disturbing dinner parallels/illustrates Louis’ struggle with vampirism and provides conversational anchor points to his increased struggle with the morality of it all. Louis feeding from Armand at the beginning of ep 5 mirrors Lestat force feeding on Louis at the end.

In that regard I do not believe for a second that it is a coincidence that the episode in which Rashmand starts to become more than ‘guy behind an iPad’ (and starts blatantly flirting with Daniel) is the episode that introduces Claudia.

I do think the praying goes beyond that though. I think it’s also a way of testing Daniel. Hear me out: Asr namozi.

Again I don’t believe for a moment that Armand saying those words with Daniel in the room was an accident. That didn’t just slip out. He said it and looked to Daniel for his reaction. And that reaction is in fact the interesting part. Because I’m calling complete and utter bullshit on Daniel being able to identify the geographic origin of a language he has heard a total two short words in with any precision. Yes, I know Kazakhstan is ginormous but Crimea isn’t (it’s also nowhere near Kazakhstan. At least not anymore than England is near Italy). That’s a pretty specific location.The only way I would believe that someone could do that is if the were an insane polyglot or if they had had significant exposure to that or similar languages. According to Daniel’s official biography he falls into neither category. However, if we assume that official biography includes a couple vampire induces gaps…

It seems like the vampires are constantly testing Daniel’s memories, or rather the ones he shouldn’t have. Two episodes later Louis asks him point black what he remembers of their first meeting. And the Tintoretto conversation in ep 2 could be a similar thing. I wrote in another post how weird I thought it was to use Tintoretto as a reference (especially seeing the dates are off) and someone argued Armand would know that Daniel has the background knowledge to find that reference useful, but the thing is we don’t have a lot of indication that Daniel, as he remembers himself now, would have that knowledge (and I don’t count the puzzle at the beginning as such an indication. Just because you’re doing a jigsaw of a famous painting doesn’t mean you know anything about art. It only means you thought a picture with lots of figures on it would make a good jigsaw. Obviously not counting Daniel’s subconscious decision making here). I could go on a whole other tangent about that scene but this is already way too long.

The TLDR is Armand is praying in that scene because he decided that for some reason Daniel needed to see that and I think at least part of that reason was that he is testing Daniel’s memory, as he and Louis do this in different ways throughout the season (Other instances include ‘remember the best you ever had’, the proposal ice cream and reading from Daniel’s memoir, maybe even ‘I wasn’t sure you’d remember me’. All those refer to points in time that could conceivably have happened during or very close to the Devils Minion timeline. Most of those prod at the memories Daniel has as supposed to the ones that are missing). Which is interesting because it implies they don’t fully know the scope of the memory wipe.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group E, Round 3, Poll 3:

Propaganda under the cut

Lady Rhea

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE GAME AHEAD This lady gaslighted, gatekept, and girlbossed for a little more than 1000 years. Her story starts in ancient Fódlan where she was a member of a magical dragon race called the Nabateans, children of Sothis. After Sothis was killed and her corpse desecrated by a bandit named Nemesis (who believed himself to be fighting for the freedom of humanity), he made a sword out of her body to arm his allies and massacred the Nabateans. Rhea gathered the last few Nabateans left and some human allies and, under the name 'Seiros', waged war on Nemesis and his army. Victorious, Saint Seiros rewrote history to cover up the existence of the Nabateans and created a religion around her mother, now calling Sothis the Progenitor God. As the years go on, Lady Rhea used her holy influence to give rise to the Adrestrian Empire. It's implied that her church, the Church of Seiros, played a part in wars that resulted in the creation of the Holy Kingdom of Faergus, a nation that broke off of Adrestria, and the Leicester Alliance, another nation which broke off of the Kindgom. FE16 makes a point to note that she continues to censor history up to the present, including limiting technological advancements for 'blasphemy'. Her advisor, Seteth, once served her as Saint Cichol and even he has shown shock and horror at how far she has gaslit, gatekept, and girlbossed. The protagonist of this game is the child of Sitri, the 12th human vessel in a project that Lady Rhea personally conducted to try and revive her mother. Rhea never admits this to the protag's face until she is either in a weakened state or an enemy of the protagonist. She even tries to restart the experiment on the protag without their knowledge. The game splits into four routes and in one of them the protagonist turns on Rhea. In this route Lady Rhea girlbosses so hard that she turns into a dragon and reclaims her Saint Seiros persona as she tries to kill the protag and reclaim her mother who, at this point, exists as a weapon the protagonist wields and as an organ Lady Rhea implanted into them as a baby. In two of the routes where the protagonist sides with Lady Rhea she'll accompany them to combat the forces that orriginally allowed Nemesis to attack her peeople (who have turned into a highly advanced underground race at this point). This girlboss moment is so cool to me because Lady Rhea had been a prisoner for 5 years but still manages to turn into a dragon and take a literal ICBM to the face to protect the protag. TL;DR: Lady Rhea has gaslit society and made a fake history. She gatekept by personally executing members of her own church she made because she disagreed with their ways. She girlbosses by being the Archbishop of her religion for 1159 years and turning into a dragon to KILL "

She created a thousand year old church to control an entire continent. She rewrote history to be able to control the continent and keep the power she gained, under a belief that she was all that could protect humans from themselves.

The ULTIMATE example of gaslight gatekeep girlboss!! (((Major FE3H spoilers))): Gaslight: constructs an entire centuries-old religion centered around her dead mom with herself as the leader, hides the identity of herself (secretly the founding saint and namesake of said religion) and her compatriots (secretly other major saints), rewrites continent’s history as well as the origin of the nobility’s hereditary crests and holy relics, hires homeschooled mercenary seemingly for nepotism/skill reasons but doesn’t tell them that she actually implanted her mother’s heart into them as an infant in hopes to revive her dead mom. Gatekeep: intentionally withholds continent’s secret history, church covers up and censors some of humanity’s technological/medical advancements in order to obscure aforementioned history as well as to prevent the development of more efficient weapons of war/destruction, instructs faculty and students not to leak dangerous side effects of powerful holy relics to the wider public, executes rebels/assassins/conspirators that seek to remove her, literally hires a Gatekeeper known only as Gatekeeper. Girlboss: Canonically bisexual pope with hips for days and de facto leader of an entire continent. Powerful warrior. Proficient in instructing hand-to-hand combat. The first cutscene of the game shows her sword-fighting in heels with a muscular man and, after being disarmed, beating the shit out of him in hand-to-hand combat and stabbing him to death with a dagger. Girlboss.

Morag Ladair

She is an inquisitor for a despotic colonizing empire, who is ruthlessly efficient, a master manipulator, and also a genuinely charming characters. She creates a rumor of the execution of a party member to successfully lure out the rest of them, and they only escape because she chooses to let them go

[laniemae]

John Milgram 2,5,11, and 12

John has been on my mind a lot recently and I’ve been doing a lot of theories around him his would be interesting.

John 2: I’m not sure I’d you’re referring to only scenes with John or this also includes mikoto but my favorite shots are probably ones of John anyway so it doesn’t matter.

This one is probably my favorite. I love how Mikoto’s portrait here glitches out, but rather than digital glitches it’s a sort of scrapbook arrangement of paper. It’s visually stunning and highly symbolic is probably why I love it so much. I love the idea of the paper representing mikoto/John’s identity and trying to piece it together by rearranging paper and using sticky tape like torn paper but it just not working. And the blue and the red representing mikoto and John’s seperate identities but sharing the same body. And the text of “Mikoto” and “Double” moving around and the skull and the grid which I still don’t exactly know what to make of.

John 5: “If I had stayed a monster… maybe that would’ve been better.” This line broke me so bad. Like I was already crying when I first watched neoplasm but this is where I completely broke down. This line is just so sad ugh. It’s basically John breaking his persona and confessing that he’s been acting being a monster and stuff. And after that quote he paused and said “…what?” Like he was confused he just said that. That line basically confirms everything I suspected about him and it’s just so sad.

John 11: I find it really interesting that he’s basically pretending to be a monster (hence my choice of favourite quote) and driving away people from mikoto to try and protect him. John wants us to believe that he’s a cruel, mass murderer and when he first fronted in neoplasm, threatened Es with violence. But when they treated him as a human, John calmed down, becoming more conversational yet stoic, which is probably his true self while not acting out. And when Es questions this behaviour, he instantly flips back into that persona when he realises he’s gone docile, but he already confessed enough by saying that he “should’ve stayed a monster”.

John 12: this adds on a lot to what I was saying, but i haven’t seen this much people talking about this aspect of John’s character and I was actually going to make a theory post on this in the future but I’ll just give a brief rundown. The way John is treating Mikoto isn’t inherently good. Pushing away people from Mikoto by acting violent isn’t a good thing actually, but John thinks it’s to protect Mikoto. A trait of some abuse victims is that they may lash out at people in a subconscious attempt to push them away, thinking that a close relationship with someone would only bring more pain than healing. This is exactly what John is doing here, only that he’s aware of his behaviour and purposely pursuing that idea. Instead of being the “saviour” he wants to be, he’s inadvertently pushing potential friends and people who can sympathise with Mikoto and willing to help him, away. But in John’s mind relationships like that will only bring suffering. And once again in the scene where Es treats him as human instead of a monster, John breaks down at that sort of treatment, showing us his true colours.

This is such an amazing piece of story telling in my eyes and I’m surprised that lots of people tend to gloss over this aspect. The “John is pretending to be a monster” thing has so many layers and I actually really like how it’s thought out from a narrative perspective and gives insight into his relationship with Mikoto and world view corrupted by abuse and trauma.

[megaderping]

The moment that school released Akechi from its grasp, he hightailed it to Junes with the rest of the Investigation Team. Upon plunging through the TV screen, he once again found himself beneath an oppressive dark sky. The tear in the floor, once so small, had stretched to well over two meters in diameter, giving them plenty of space to dive in. But how deep was the drop? What lurked within the darkness below? Rather than take the risk, Akechi called out, "Persona!" When Robin Hood flashed into view, he looked solemnly over the group. There was a subtle tremble in the way he gripped his bow. Even his posture looked stiffer than usual. Still, Akechi met his gaze as calmly as possible, trying not to let his normally confident Persona feel the impact of his disheartened state. "Can you carry a few of us down there? I suspect it'll be safer than jumping in blind." Nodding, Robin Hood drifted down, and Akechi climbed into his arms. Off to the side, Yukiko and Chie shared a look before Chie said, "You heard him, Tomoe!" Her own Persona descended, scooping up the two girls without hesitation. Perhaps seeing an opportunity to display chivalry, Robin Hood then turned to Rise and lowered himself again. Care for a lift? A small smile formed on Rise's lips. "My hero!" She giggled and let Robin Hood lift her off the ground… Which just left Yu, Yosuke, and Kanji. "Uh, so…" Yosuke glanced between Yu and Kanji, as if this was some grave dilemma that would define his fate. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he even got a grunt out, Kanji snorted and approached Robin Hood. "Got room for one more?" Yosuke spread his arms out, giving Kanji buggy-eyed a look that even put Adachi's idiotic face to shame. "Dude! Your Persona's huge. And I mean, Jiraiya can totally carry me, so—" Too late. Izanagi sneakily scooped Yosuke off the ground, resulting in Yosuke kicking and squirming even as the Persona grabbed Yu in his other arm. Previous Chapter | Full Chapter | Read from the Beginning -- Teddie Dungeon start! As a side note, this fic now has a TVTropes page.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

🏎️💨 THE FORMULA 1 TAG GAME! 🏎️💨:

stealing this from the timeline...

+ zero pressure tags (but i love reading these!) - @lecrep @souvenir116 @fueledbyremembering @thinkingaboutfilm11 @supercollide @fireopaal @callsign-shortstack @thatguywasvaping @linewire @buryawoman and whoever else wants to do it.

1. Who or what got you into F1?

charles edits on tiktok + drive to survive, lmao. i'm one of those bitches. sorry not sorry!

but! i will say! what greg james said about f1 resonated with me because i have never ever really cared about physics or engineering in any deep or substantial way. and now, i am avidly reading people like supermak's incredible posts talking about downforce or apexes or deltas and car configs, looking at the charts and the data, and i just think that is a really fun place to be.

f1blr and f1 fandom so far has been a nice confirmation that multiple things can be true - yes we want to make the vroom vroom boys kiss, but we also care deeply about the ethics of the sport, the growth, about driver + team stories, driver pipelines and equity and race excitement and engineering. i think it's really cool these things can coexist.

the sport never should be one thing to one group of people, you know? (wow that ended up longer than i thought.)

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

charles, and still charles lmao. unfortunately.

i am an oscar piastri enthusiast also. i think there's a bit of recency bias at work here but he's come swimming like a fledgling shark into the shallows with his deadpan personality and i'm just very intrigued by His Whole Thing.

i want good things for yuki! and lewis! my GOAT!! give the man his 8th :( (it probably isn't happening but lets' not manifest that.......)

TL;DR it's been a joy getting to "know" the grid (or at least as much of their public persona will tell us) and getting into the lore. *shaky hands* the LORE!

also nobody asked, but, schumacher was an omnipresent name when i was growing up - which might give away my age - but he always felt like an old school driver. in the sense of his mythos, his mystery, his dominance of the track. that era of f1 is over and the sport only moves on and evolves, but in the same way his presence felt a lot more removed and unrelatable to me, and far away. the speed of technology now and broadcasting and social content makes f1 feel more fun and accessible. it feels a lot nicer to find fandom spaces like f1blr where there are different audiences (female, queer, a variety of ages and backgrounds etc) yelling about the same things.

it's just a different time, not a value judgment. but i am enjoying it.

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

see above, but i'm 100% here for lestappen having a track battle next year only for oscar to pip them to the podium in one of the races lmao. i think it'd be amazing.

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

*long sigh* once again lestappen baybee... the lore... the parallels... the sun-moonism.... the enemies-to-rivals-to-friends-and-gay-rival-soulmates-something

i like other pairings too like in my about me post - landoscar, galex, blabla. my dark horses are riccussell (george/daniel) and groto (george/toto).

something about that greyhound, very wound-up, very upper-middle-class, highly-strung, born-to-want-but-not-to-always-win english george:

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

i got my sister into f1 at around the same time but she's not indicated any preference on drivers yet tbh. she's a casual fan. must be nice being normal.

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

haven't seen enough of them to say, 'cus i only started following like two months ago as the season was winding down. i looooved Vegas '23 though and the legendary charles overtake. he's just so fucking smart and cunning when he's given the conditions and the car to be. watching Abu Dhabi '21 on replay was also a TRIP.

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

i'm still learning them. but i'm mildly curious about the old tracks like nürburgring - it was from a totally different era of the sport and it'd be nice to rebalance the long tracks with the current spectacle of street races even though that doesn't seem to be where the sport's moving towards.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

i actually live in a place with a track... i had a free ticket for general access once many years ago but that was pre-f1 hyperfixation, and at that point i didn't understand the appeal at all. idk.

i feel like f1 is actually a better experience for me to watch on tv as a fan.... probably blasphemy i know.

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

no and idk that i would because i've seen celebrities in person in the past and it's usually so quick and transactional because they're surrounded by hordes of handlers and/or they're usually running somewhere even if it's a fan-focused interaction.

THAT SAID! i would love to attend a talk by Lewis or just generally hear what he has to say, because what he's done is so beyond f1 at this point and he always shows up in terms of advocacy and speaking up, in recent years, where it really matters. he's a fascinating figure, sometimes contradictory, sometimes controversial, but i definitely would love to hear what he has to say.

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

i am partial to that black and gold lotus from the 80s, ngl:

and this 7up car (jordan 191?) which with the fujifilm sponsorship is just peak 90s:

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

does charles count as a one win wonder............ fight me in the comments

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

"don't waste it" from seb vettel to charles on seb's last day