#why do I care so much about this? well lemme introduce you to the concept of not having a fucking life

[some-pers0n]

Watching the last four episodes of the demon show against my better judgement. Gonna be an annoying live-blog post full of rambling.

Okay so maybe a quarter/halfway through the fifth episode (when they introduce Lucifer) and so far? Eh. I think it's an interesting direction to take Lucifer's character. I'm not against making Lucifer a sympathetic role, especially since the story is taking a more "Lucifer was cast out of heaven for not complying with heaven's rules and morals" path, but it feels a little...odd. I look at this guy and don't think of him as any different than the overlords. It reminds me of Bee in a way, where it feels like they should be more, well, grand? I need a moment to think more about him though.

I also think it's kinda really awkward to introduce the concept of Alastor being a father-figure to Charlie considering they have had maybe three conversations and none of them were even remotely close to lukewarm in attitude. It feels forced and unnatural. The show barely shows any of them really interact and form bonds and connections. The only ones who I feel have any sort of bond are Vaggie and Charlie, and Angel Dust and Husk. Alastor is just kinda this character who doesn't really do anything.

Again, the show feels like fanfic. It feels like the show expects us to already be familiar with these characters, their dynamic, and general role in the story. To an outsider, this beat of Alastor feeling like a father-figure to Charlie is extremely out of left field. Hell, for most people who are fans of the show it feels odd. The show is pretty much only made for people who are already familiarized with these characters. It doesn't spend time setting up relationships, since it assumes we already know how they interact.

Anyways, enough rambling. Lemme unpause it so they can finish their little song.

Okay I unpaused it for all of like three seconds but I need to complain a little again. I'm not a character designer or artist, nor do I really think that the character designs are they fun to talk about (other than them being extremely animator unfriendly), but Lucifer's wings should be a little more...detailed? They feel blank and boring. I think they should have more gold or something. Anyways back to show.

If I may, I also do think that the show generally introduces wayyyyy too many characters for its own good. I think it should've stuck with a smaller cast. Way smaller. Most of these overlords and new characters could've been cut and nothing would really change. It feels really bloated and, again, feels like fanfic. The show expects us to already know these characters and doesn't really introduce them or give proper time to, well, be characters.

Oh yay Alastor exposition.

I do with Alastor was actually allowed to be batshit crazy and blow up things. I think it would be better if we were shown why we should fear Alastor. Why Alastor is this big scary guy. See him kill people. See him slaughter and completely level buildings without breaking a sweat. So far? I don't really feel anything about him. He's not scary. He's nothing, really.

Oh I've seen this scene of Husk and Alastor before.

God I wish there were more scenes of this happening. Literally just more of this place. Even more scary though. More of this. Please and thank you. Actually makes him interesting to watch.

Okay the joke about "loan sharks" is actually cute and fun. I like that.

Oh my god is Alastor going to do something????

FUCKING FINALLY LETS GO!!!

NO FUCK OFF DADDY ISSUES PLOT LET ME SEE ALASTOR KILL

NOOOOOOOOO PLEASE I WANT TO SEE MORE

Mimzy bothering Alastor about him caring about the hotel makes me think of that one theory that Lilith is forcing Alastor to do this. There's clearly some higher power that is forcing Alastor to comply and help with this, as said with Husk just a couple minutes ago. Lilith has been missing for a couple years and now recently Alastor is back. They've gotta be linked in some way.

Okay Lucifer sing your song about how heaven is evil and how you love your daughter.

I've mentioned it before, but I think the reveal of heaven being evil was shown way too early for its own good. I think they should've withheld it for a while. Revealing that, no, heaven is corrupt and bad in the very first episode kills any sort of tension or concern. We already know that heaven is corrupt and bad. That they don't believe in redeeming sinners and they'll just kill them all cause it's a) fun and b) to control them. Perhaps in a later episode it should've been revealed in its entirety.

Okay considering how Lilith took away Charlie from Lucifer, which is framed as being a sad thing, I'm certain Lilith is now going to be a villainous character. At least antagonistic. This is a Vivziepop show we're talking about here. So what does that exactly mean?

That was a pretty cute song not gonna lie.

Heaven time!!

I was already spoiled about Vaggie being a fallen angel, but I do think that it's a pretty decent reveal. I think it'd be better if the show had more time to-- OH THIS IS THE EPISODE WITH CHERRI BOMB??

God Cherri is such an animator unfriendly design it hurts. Why does she have so many edges and dots.

Don't tell me this is when the Sir Pentious SA joke happens. Please.

God I still can't believe they made Saint Peter into a blue-eyed blonde hair white guy. Viv only knows how to design one type of male character.

Heaven looks pretty neat so far. Interesting to see it finally.

I wonder if they'll ever bring up how Molly is in heaven. Or Angel Dust's other family in general.

I'mma be real: I think the exterminator designs should've been kept as what they look like. They look cool as hell with their masks on.

Anyways, reveal time.

I wonder if Vaggie is the angel who that one girl a couple episodes ago said she killed. Or if she just took credit. Or if it's another angel.

Court time.

HELP THE DICTIONARY JOKE-- okay that one's pretty funny.

Again, I think heaven should be more pretentious and weary about swearing and generally acting "like a sinner". I get that Adam was the first sinner and his whole thing is that he's an old bigoted white dude, but I feel like heaven should at least react to him swearing. Be all like: "!! you can't say that!!" or just generally be really uptight about it. I dunno. I think it'd be cute and fun.

Aw Sir Pentious :] He's so sweet

But oohhh noo Angel :(

WHY DOES EVERYONE REACT TO CHARLIE SWEARING BUT NOT ADAM??? WHUH??? Okay, okay, playing devil's advocate here, but maybe Charlie is more judged because she's from hell and it's commentary on how angels and sinners aren't that different and yet the sinners are judged more...but like...c'mon man...

NIFTY HELP DHUAWHDI--

Sir Pentious sweetheart no..

Don't tell me this is where the Sir Pentious SA joke happens now. I love you Sir Pentious please.

FUCK NONONONONONONONONONO NO GET HIM OUT OF THERE NO FUCK NO LITERALLY WHY IS THERE A JOKE ABOUT THIS RIGHT AFTER THE WHOLE VAL STUFF-- HE'S LITERALLY RIGHT HERE AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT ANGEL'S TRAUMA RIGHT AFTER A SA JOKE?????

Jesus that slap drew blood

?? Whuh? They don't even know what constitutes a sinner and a angel? ...okay devil's advocate again, but maybe it's still with the commentary about the church and whatnot.

I do like the idea of heaven not being aware of the exterminations though. Again, theme of the church hurting those who they deem to be sinners (aka addicts, queer people, or just generally anybody who isn't a straight, white guy with zero mental illness).

Okay final two episodes time.

Aw Sir Pentious :]

Alright Alastor go get your queer-platonic partner and go and sort this all out

Okay honestly? If this whole scene came before the dad Alastor thingy, I could believe it. A one-on-one conversation with Charlie and Alastor with him looking out for her.

Okay so it's been cleared up, Carmilla did kill an angel. Probably with her blessed weapons considering how angel weapons seem to hurt each other (as shown with Vaggie)

Sir Pentious and his goons are the only characters I care about

Ayyy Alastor's queer-platonic-partner

Aw that's a cute ace reference. Ace in the hole. Adorable

I do like Rosie. She's kinda neat

I do wonder what the logistics are behind Vaggie being latina if she's seemingly heavenborn. Maybe she's not and human souls can become exterminators. Though, Adam did say he named her, which sounds like she's heavenborn.

The cannibal town is funny. I like Susan. Ol' prick

Die girlies are fighting

Yep angelic weapons kill angels

Ooh I like this song

Oh this is cute, Carmilla is teaching Vaggie how to be a better fighter. I always like this cute. Adorable actually

C'mon Charlie tell the old queer about your relationship problems.

Rosie is so sweet and fun I love her

Hey okay why is this conversation actually not that bad? I like this interaction quite a bit. Rosie is really sweet and charming and lovely and she does tell Charlie to love and trust Vaggie in a way that's not really forced. I like it.

God dammnit I like a friendship in the demon show (Rosie and Alastor)

I like the idea that all of these cannibals dress like they're from the prohibition era.

I also like the idea that this one cannibal town is capable of taking down the exterminators.

Aww the girlies :)

I actually like this episode quite a bit. There's no glaring flaws or anything. It's a fun and cute episode that sets up the climax. Probably my favourite episode of the series thus far

Final episode lets go

Alright Vox what do you want now?

SIR PENTIOUS THE SILLY!!

Angel sobering up a bit is pretty nice though. The show does get a bit better. Those first couple of episodes are pretty rough.

God finally they kissed

Hi angels

Aw I like all of their battle attire

Alastor please be cool and do something menacing and fun

I do like this final battel thus far. Seems pretty earned. This later half is a lot better paced than the first half. Feels nicer.

vox what

You can definitely see the inspiration from that one villain from The Princess and the Frog here in this fight between them.

I THOUGHT HE CALLED HER "FAGATHA" HELPPPPP

?? Does Angel's arms just grow out of him at will?

I'm personally not really vibing with Cherri/Pentious, but eh it's fine it's meh

Fake-out death calling it now

Oh FINALLY Charlie is turning into a demon mode

???? HELP THAT SCREECH WAS SUCH LOW QUALITY IT WAS PEAKING THE MIC HELDWHAUIDHWUIAHUI--

Final confrontation between Vaggie and Lute lets go

Was that a snout on Charlie I saw?

I saw people complaining about their blood being "piss coloured" on Twitter, but honestly golden blood goes so hard. I love ichor so much. It's always so cool

Okay sparing somebody so they have to live with knowing that you gave them mercy goes hard

Oh hey, deus-ex-lucifer

I think Adam still would've been cooler if that WAS his face and not just a mask. Also if Adam wasn't a generic white guy. He needs curly hair

OH SHUT UP-- okay, fine, mercy. Mercy is fine. Mercy is the entire show's point. Redemption and not killing a person. I think it should've been better paced though.

Don't tell me Nifty killed him-- oh for fuck's sake. I hate this trope of the comedic relief character killing the bad guy. It's not funny and it feels underserved

Boo hoo song about how Sir Pentious is totally dead. He's not. He's still alive, I know it

So the V's are obviously going to be the main villains next season

Hey Alastor

I still don't think Sir Pentious is dead. You can't convince me show. He's alive

I KNEW IT!! HE'S REDEEMED TOO??? WAS THAT THE FAMILY GUY DEAD POSE??

Oh is this Lilith?

Yeah it's Lilith.

Alright, thoughts:

I think it's a decent show all around. Would I casually recommend it to people? Absolutely not. I still believe the biggest flaw is how the show is based around you already knowing these characters and the context around everything. It makes it extremely unappealing towards casual viewers and only really makes it watchable to people who've already seen the pilot, Helluva Boss, and know a bit about Vivziepop lore.

The writing is hit-or-miss. Pacing and mood whiplash is certainly an issue. I think the show has a general lack of focus in the first couple of episodes especially, though it does pick itself up a lot by episode six once it focuses on the heaven VS hell plot.

I find most of the characters to be stale and iffy. Alastor I think suffers the most since he's obviously this character you're supposed to like and find just as cool as Viv does, but he isn't really doing it for me. He feels forced and unnatural.

Despite Viv claiming it to be a female-lead show, I still feel like it spends infinitely more time giving more depth and character to the male cast than it does with the female ones. The male cast gets more complicated stories than Charlie and Vaggie, which kinda sucks.

Overall? Not bad. I wish the season had twelve episodes instead so it could be better paced, but ah well.

[morgana-ren]

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins. 

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t. 

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

 ‘Maybe I will.’ 

That’s how it starts. 

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 

“Shit-” 

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

[aerois]

Remarried Empress: Sovieshu Contextualized and Navier the Unreliable Narrator (SPOILERS!)

So recently I started reading Remarried Empress on WEBTOON. Honestly the whole premise wasn’t my cup of tea and I was solely reading it because it was part of an event where I could get free coins (lol). But then... I got hooked. I got invested. Started drinking in chapters whenever and wherever I could, and even now I still crave more. I wanted Navier to have some semblance of a happy ending (and, let’s be honest, I wanted to drag that precious little bitch Trashta by her fucking hair across the yard). At first it was mostly that. Raging at Trashta and her Simperor, pondering at Heinley’s true intentions, drooling over Kaufman. 

And then, I noticed something odd. I noticed-- the strangest thing-- Sovieshu seemed to be... not as enamored with his mistress as meets the eye. And there was even some hinting that his feelings for Navier weren’t what we assumed.

I have to preface this: I don’t condone Sovieshu’s crappy actions. He’s an idiot, and acts very poorly as a husband. And there’s no excuse for cheating. Absolutely not! So I don’t want this post to come across like In Defense of Sovieshu, because it’s not. But I do think that our view, the reader’s view, of Sovieshu, is warped. And this is mainly because we see the story through Navier’s eyes of course, but we forget that every individual person is fallible. Every person, at some point, harbors false assumptions that color their concepts of truth and reality. Put shortly, Navier is human, and therefore is not a reliable narrator at some points. Especially concerning her husband. We see Sovieshu entirely through the eyes of his wronged wife in the webcomic. Pin that: in the webcomic. Did you know the webcomic is actually based on a mobile game? Yes, it is! And I downloaded it! And I’m playing it! And... I’m actually... hating Sovieshu less?????????? 

Ok, ok, put the pitchforks down! Hear me out! I’m not saying any of the stuff he did was okay! But Navier’s narration of the story paints him as this cold, detached man who grew to hate his wife so much that he flew into the arms of some hussy for warmth and then just cast his wife aside and deliberately acted like a jerk just because he wanted her to suffer.  And there’s a grain of truth to that. There are points where Sovieshu feels bitter and does or says something waspish. But it’s not as black and white as you might assume. I played the mobile game, and decided to take Sovieshu’s route out of spite. I opened this app, saw it was an otome with this garbage-fire, cheating sack of shit for a romance option and thought “Hah! The nerve. Probably some semi-abusive dirtbag route aimed to appeal to girls who like men who treat them badly. You know, that mutually abusive relationship appeal that some girls like because drama.” And I needed to rack up in-game currency anyway (it’s like usual mobile games, where when you wanna make cool choices you gotta cough up cash unless you “diamond-mine” on crappy stories to save up the meager bits of free currency the app gives you for playing) so I figured I’d blast through the Sovieshu route and skip onto my darling Kaufman in playthrough 2.

And then the smoke genuinely compelling character development got me. So I could run y’all through Navier’s version of the events, but you already know that. For Sovieshu though? Here’s the kicker: this idiot has had a raging passion for his wife slowly building up for years throughout their entire lives, and only realizes it about halfway through the events of the story. This idiot, this buffon, this absolute brain-dead dolt... didn’t even realize he was pining over his own wife until he was about to explode from the desperation from it all. God, I wish I was joking. Lemme break it down for you:

Sovieshu’s POV: He and Navier are introduced as kids and are told they’ll be married someday. Life partners. They are raised in tandem to respect and care for one another. Kinda smacks of grooming (go mom and dad!) but whatever, that’s the background. These kids are mentally regarding each other as spouses their entire conscious lives. And Sovieshu, as he grows, quickly comes to realize his intended is a selfless girl who holds everything inside. The first spark of his affection for her is wrapped in this: that Sovieshu longs for Navier to take off her “perfect princess” mask and let herself be vulnerable with him. He admires her intellingence, her grace, and her devotion to her country. He looks at her and sees someone that inspires him. He craves the opportunity to comfort and protect her. He waits, and these opportunities come in small instances. But they get older, their burdens get heavier, and like most young women, Navier gets better at pretending nothing is wrong with her and putting everyone else first. Sovieshu feels more distant from her. But that desire to break through her wall still stands.

They marry, but Navier, in her infinite wisdom, makes the assumption that this marriage is entirely political (despite...the fact... that they were raised together??? they were literally best friends their entire lives??? are y’all seeing how this could be confusing for him???) and that there are absolutely no feelings involved on Sovieshu’s side. Expect there’s that little problem. That little problem. Of Navier’s absolute inability to be vulnerable. And so she starts this marriage all Elsa-Conceal-Don’t-Feel convinced that her husband (whom she is secretly in love with, shocker) holds no warmth for her because she’s never received any from him. 

Now I’ll acknowledge that this is a two way street, where Sovieshu fails as well. Should Navier have made a mature decision and asked for love and support when she needed it? Yes. Should Sovieshu have offered anyway, despite not knowing that she wanted it at all? Yes. They’re both in the wrong here. They’re both too passive, too afraid.

So the first few years of their marriage pass by like this. And Navier kinda melts into more of a depressed state over it, while Sovieshu becomes frustrated. But he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t quite put his finger on the fact that HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE, GEE WHAT A SURPRISE BUDDY. And then... the little ingenue comes in. Trashta, with her crocodile tears, oversharing of emotions, co-dependent as all get-out. You see where I’m headed, right? It’s not just that she’s the opposite of Navier that gets Sovieshu hooked. It’s that she gives him that opportunity to unburden all this pent up romantic frustration. He can comfort, and protect, and wipe away the tears of a woman who loves him... And for a while, it’s intoxicating. That itch is finally being scratched.

Or so it seems. Because sooner or later, Sovieshu realizes that this woman is not his wife. And she’s a bit clingy, and clueless, and she’s... well, she’s not his wife. She’s not his wife. 

“Oh, dear God...” the idiot finally realizes. “I don’t want this hussy. I want my wife!” 

Ding ding ding! You did it! And it only took you--what? 20 years? After all this time, Sovieshu (and the audience playing his route) realizes. He’s not cheating because he’s bored, or because he hates his wife, or because he’s Inherently An Asshole And That’s What Assholes Do. He’s cheating because he’s using this woman as a stand-in for his wife. He’s been looking straight through this woman and seeking his wife the entire time. He’s cheating because he’s stupid and repressed and misguided and human. And again, that doesn’t excuse it. He still cheated, and that’s something he needs to spend a life-time making up for. It’s a mistake, and a big one. But it’s not fueled by a malicious hatred or a desire to hurt her. It’s fueled by confusion and fear. And, strangely enough, a desire to perform love for his wife.

So anyway, this stupid dweeb finally wakes up and realizes that no matter how much he plays around with the Town Skank, it doesn’t slate that thirst for the woman he’s spent his life growing to love. And that he actually, truly loves her to begin with. Now at this point, Navier was away travelling, doing queenly stuff. And he gets a message from a servant-- his wife is home. This boy books it. This man throws down what he’s doing, sprints across the imperial palace, to stumble at the feet of his wife; red-faced and breathless, absolutely undone. This man is screaming for his wife on the inside and now nothing he can do will quiet it. And his wife, ever the perfect pinnacle of a monarch, just raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and wonders what’s got him in such a tizzy.

This is where the difference between the narratives hits especially hard. Navier has absolutely no clue that her husband is a hair-thin thread of self-control away from all of this just completely spilling out of him. She looks at him and sees a tormentor; someone who’s treating her like a used doll. And he sees this Goddess that’s been hiding in plain sigh the whole time. He sees his sins and repents before this, his wife, his almighty Goddess. But he doesn’t know what to do. She’s still been hurt by him, Trashta is still in their lives, and damn it all, he’s still frustrated. He still feels bitter and abandoned because even after everything, even after the years of marriage, his wife just seems so unaffected by him. This is where Navier’s “perfect queen” image that she tries so hard to curate really bites her in the ass.

These two dumbasses are hopelessly in love with each other but they’re deadlocked in an endless cycle of letting their prides get in the way. Navier doesn’t want to be vulnerable. Sovieshu doesn’t want to compromise, doesn’t know how to not lash out in anger when he’s really feeling sad. Unlike Navier, he can express emotions-- but not in a heathy way. So he says something mean, does something kinda shitty. And Navier thinks it’s because he delights in her suffering. So Sovieshu’s over here in his head like a cranky little child that’s mad at mommy because she’s on the phone, and Navier is over there in her head wondering why on earth her husband can’t notice a love that she’s never actually expressed to him. And it’s just terrible. But kind of hilarious. Mostly sad and terrible. But defintely hilarious.

To further illustrate this: even a lot of Sovieshu’s actions, for that matter, get warped by Navier’s unreliable narration. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! In the chapter where Trashta is stabbed, Sovieshu immediately screams for guards to surround Navier. So I’ll sum up their thought processes here.

Navier: Oh my God, I can’t believe this asshole. Calling the guards? He really fuckin thinks I did this?! Jerk! Asshole! He really thinks I’d arrange for a pregnant woman to be stabbed!! He’s probably deliberately framing me too, so he can get me out of the way and live happily ever after with her!

Sovieshu: OH MY GOD, MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE COULD GET STABBED NEXT SOMEONE HELP well actually maybe she had something to do with it? nah. prolly not. but even if she did idgaf I LOVE MY WIFE, I’LL COVER FOR YOU BABY I’LL FORGIVE WHATEVER. GUARDS, FIND WHO DID THE STABBING SO THEY DON’T STAB MY PERFECT WIFE NEXT

Like I wish I was joking, but that’s how it read. Anyway, I’m not done with the comic or the game yet. But Sovieshu’s motivations aren’t all as they seem. And while he’s not a perfect husband, he has the capacity to mature, let down his pride, and make steps toward atoning to his wife. I honestly and genuinely believe this marriage could be salvageable if they could come clean with each other. A lot of people want to root for Kaufman or Heinley, and I get it. Those two would probably treat her well. But the fact stands that these two are married, and surprisingly, they both actually still hold a spark of love for one another. If Sovieshu could genuinely repent, and demonstrate this to Navier, they would attain the happy marriage with each other that they both strive for. Anyway, I find myself surprisingly hooked on the story now that I see Sovieshu’s POV. He’s not a hero in this story by any means, but I’m somehow, against my better judgement, rooting for him. I’m rooting for him to make the right choices and repair his marriage. 

It’s a bold strategy, folks. Let’s see how it pays off.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

Some Reasons I Love One Piece

So I set up a poll to ask what I should do for my 4000 follower milestone, and something like 85% of the responses to my poll said you wanted me to do a compilation of stuff I love about One Piece! So hell yeah, get ready for me to talk about pirates for way too long (a sentence that could also serve as an accurate blog description).

Before that though, lemme just say- thank you all! Seriously! When I started this blog I figured I’d be extremely lucky to end up with like a thousand followers, and now I have four times that and it just keeps growing, which just constantly baffles and amazes me. I adore every one of you, and you’re providing me something fun and productive to do in quarantine, and I love you for that.

Anyways! Let’s talk good shit.

Let’s start with Luffy. The whole story starts with him, after all.

I love Luffy, just as a character. He’s one of my favorite protagonists in anything, ever, when ordinarily protagonist characters don’t really appeal to me all that much. I genuinely think he might be my favorite character in One Piece now that I sit down and really think about it. I love how unconventional of a main character he is- he actively shuns the idea of being a hero and is in fact the most chaotic neutral motherfucker on the planet, and yet he’s so friendly and loyal and fun that you straight up can’t not love him both in-universe and out. 

I also love the Strawhats just in general, both as a group and individually. Found family is one of my all-time favorite story tropes, and they do it better than like, the vast majority of stories out there. They’re all so completely unique from each other and play off each other so well and they really do feel like a family. I love how often Oda just shows them fucking around and hanging out. (One of my only gripes with post-timeskip is how much time they spend split apart.) I think it says a lot about them that I struggled so much when someone asked me to rank the Strawhats a few months back and had to rearrange the list like four times. I just!! Love them all!!

One of my favorite things about One Piece is that it’s the story of Luffy’s rise, and that it occurs in a world that’s so solidly scaled and well-developed that all progress he makes actually feels tangible and impactful. Some of my favorite moments in One Piece are the ones where we can see how far he and the crew have come and see other people’s reactions. His reappearance at Sabaody after the timeskip is my favorite scene in the manga, full stop. His entrance at Marineford and all of the Decks of the World cover stories delight me for the same reason.

Speaking of the worldbuilding, god it’s so good? I think one of the greatest potential strengths of a long manga is that its just got so much time to establish and build on so much information, and sometimes that leads to mangaka kind of tying themselves in knots with too much lore and explanation, but Oda just fucking nails it. 

I recently read a conversation during Zou where the Strawhats are talking to Inuarashi, Nekomamushi and the Wano folks about all their mutual acquaintances on the Roger Pirates- Brook asks about Crocus, Franky mentions Tom, etc- and I had a moment where I realized how in pretty much any other series all those connections might seem contrived, but in One Piece it works so well. So much time has been dedicated to establishing all these facts and characters and connections over years and hundreds of chapters that when they do come together, it just feels so satisfying. 

Like, at Twin Cape Crocus mentions he was a ship’s doctor and then mentions Roger as the Strawhats leave, at Thriller Bark we find out he’s Brook’s friend, at Sabaody in conversation with Rayleigh we find out for sure which ship he was a doctor on and that he joined them to look for Brook’s crew- and it all just falls together so nicely. One Piece is maybe the strongest series I’ve ever read in terms of how it establishes its characters and concepts and how they all fit into the world and cross over and connect with each other. The world of One Piece is huge, but it also feels so alive and interconnected, and that’s just wonderful. 

I love how hopeful One Piece is. I was talking to a friend a couple months ago who doesn’t watch it, and she kind of dismissed it as ‘a show where nobody dies.’ Which- setting aside the fact that that’s just not fucking true- my first response to that was, “So?” I think it’s nice that we can all know for pretty much certain that the Strawhats will achieve their dreams in the end. There’ll be a happy ending, and Luffy’s going to be Pirate King, we’ve known that from the start. The fun is in seeing how they get there. 

Aside from a few specific cases, I also really like how Oda does his character writing just in general. The female characters in One Piece generally get a bad rap, largely from people who haven’t watched the show and judge it on the (admittedly exaggerated) artstyle, but fuck if I haven’t seen such a widely varied and developed and flawed female cast writing-wise since- I don’t even know. Oda does a really good job of giving his characters, both male and female, unique and memorable personalities, which is super fucking impressive considering just how many there are. Similarly, I’m impressed by how new characters are introduced without getting repetitive or annoying, and very often those characters are really fantastic. I could talk about all the different One Piece characters I love and why, but we would legitimately be here all day. 

I also love how unlike a lot of long-running series like this, characters don’t just go away when their time in the spotlight is done. In just about any other series, characters like Buggy and Coby and Crocodile would just be gone and never to be heard from again after they’ve served their purpose. Instead you have the stupid clown villain from the second arc becoming a fucking shichibukai several hundred chapters later, and it makes sense in the context of the story! The whole concept of the cover stories works really well towards this aspect of One Piece, letting us see what all these other characters are up to without taking attention off the main story. This fits in with the interconnectedness I mentioned earlier, too. 

And I like how (and I know there are people who will argue this, I have had them in my inbox, but I do not care) One Piece has stayed so strong for so long. I’ve mentioned before that both of my favorite big arcs are pre-timeskip- Alabasta, for the civil war storyline and great supporting cast and villains, and W7/Enies Lobby, for the epic emotional highs and lowers + ANOTHER great supporting cast. But like, I’ve been enjoying the more recent arcs just as much! Honestly, now that I’ve finished Dressrosa, I think it definitely ranks up there among my favorites as well, for how chaotic and fun and high-stakes the whole thing felt when I was binging through it. I’m only a few chapters into Whole Cake Island so far but it seems very promising, and I’m really excited to get to Wano from what I’ve seen of it.

I haven’t even really touched on the art yet, either. I know the artstyle turns some people off of the series, for how kind of cartoony it is sometimes and how different it is from most other series, but honestly I just love it. I wasn’t sure about it at the start but it grew on me very fast. Hell, I have a whole tag (which I should use more) dedicated just to appreciation of pretty panels.

And the action scenes in One Piece are so fun and expressive and creative and almost always at least a little silly just by the nature of Luffy’s powers. I don’t think I’ve ever been bored during a One Piece fight. And the splash pages are frequently just breathtaking. I’m a writing person, not an art person, so I’m bad at putting this kind of thing into words nearly as well, but- yeah. One Piece Art Good. (My friend Narramin also has a really, really good series of posts about how great the visual storytelling in OP is starting here that I highly recommend, if you’re interested.)

Finally, I think my favorite thing about One Piece is that it’s all one story, start to end. I kind of touched on this above with the worldbuilding thing, but you can see what a ridiculous degree of thought and planning Oda has put into his story, and how well everything comes together. It’s the main aspect that got me to give One Piece a try in the first place- I heard how good and thought-out the long term storytelling is, and I just eat that shit up. I don’t think I’ve ever had the level of trust in a creator to handle and end their story satisfyingly that I have in Oda. It’s a good feeling. 

[brujahinaskirt]

@missn11​ says:

Ask and ye shall receive, fellow neonate! <3 Bear with me, because I’m about to hammer out 2000 words very quickly...

This massive rant by its topic nature is sort of Nines-critical, so lemme start by saying that, in my own way, I love Rodriguez. (I was partially self-burning in the shitpost that ignited this rant because I SEVERELY exaggerated Nines’s canonical shadiness levels in my ancient fanfiction, and for no other reason than because I was a teenage edgelord. I am appropriately embarrassed, but only by my excess and melodrama, not by Troika’s characterization. I think the writing behind VTMB’s Nines is superb.)

When it comes to Bloodlines, I think he’s one of the most psychologically interesting profiles in the game. In fact, I could never get into LA by Night because they so de-toothed Troika’s vision of him. Not to say LA by Night’s Nines was a poorly-developed character in his own right, ‘cause he wasn’t at all, but “my” Nines will always be unapologetically and only Troika’s: boiling angry, viciously pragmatic, a survivor who doesn’t let anyone too close lest they see through him, whose over-the-top confident façade cracks a little more every time his back’s against the wall. Troika’s Nines is the epitome of greater VTM’s “fallen rebel” archetype, and even though we don’t get to see it on all playthoughs, that makes it even better and more believable.

But as with all characterization in Bloodlines, we have to read between the lines and between our own play styles a bit to piece the truth of the puzzle together...

Besides the direct evidence Troika gives us—i.e. the music cues, which are a bit overbearing if I’m honest (sorry, Troika! ilu); the absence of Nines in Rosa’s prophecy re: people you can trust; and the overt warnings Camarilla-aligned characters give us about him—the biggest red flag about Rodriguez, imo? It’s twofold:

the way the characters he surrounds himself with talk about him and the type of vampire he chooses to fill his den. Namely: Nines exclusively recruits angry, spurned, mistreated people who are younger and far less experienced than he is

those messy, ugly, fleeting moments where you see his toughguy everyman personality crack

So! Starting with point one:

THE PERSONALITY CULT ITSELF

We can’t deny that Nines does not surround himself with peers. He surrounds himself with followers—people who don’t challenge him in any way, who are fanatically loyal, who openly profess their worship of him and their conviction he could never/would never do anything wrong. If you listen to how Damsel and Skelter talk about him, it’s with frightening adulation, often repeating Nines’s lines word-for-word without truly understanding the argumentation behind them. (Damsel’s the main offender here with her “IT’S A PYRAMID SCHEME… it just makes sense, you know? It just makes sense!” And then, of course, she gets pissed and refuses to speak to you when you push her into elaborating.)

Nines has clearly made himself much more than just a friend-figure or a Sire-figure to them. He’s utterly and completely mythologized by the LA Anarchs, held up next to other politically mythologized names like George Washington and Ho Chi Minh. His followers love him… but there’s a pecking order, and like good body shields, they believe their lives don’t matter as much as he matters. And they love that, too. They want to die for Nines. They’re not just willing to or resigned to it; they’re eager to die. Damsel will volunteer this information the first time you meet her. She just can’t wait to prove herself by taking a bullet for goddamn Nines Rodriguez. It’s literally how she introduces herself to new people.

And yet Nines deliberately withholds his attention and time from his followers. He uses his attention as a reward, as incentive. He rations some care and reassurance and help—makes you feel good and gives you reason to crave his attention—and then he pushes you away, back into his adoring ranks until the next “two minutes” you earn from him in which you’re special enough for such an exceptional, important, cool guy to talk to. That’s a classic manipulation tactic, and a classic personality cult tell.

And Troika is so damn fuckin’ brilliant about it because they don’t stop at showing us that an Anarch-aligned fledgling might feel this way—no, they make the PLAYER also feel this way. On our first playthrough of Bloodlines, we’re desperate to talk to Nines. We want the reward. “Let me finish the plaguebearer quests… let me run to the Elizabeth Dane… I hope Nines talks to me again now! Quick, to the Last Round! Maybe if I say the right thing to make him like me, he’ll give me another free EXPERIENCE POINT!” (iirc he’s one of two characters who will do so, and the only one who gives multiple points.)

But at the end of the day, Nines is indisputably the leader of the Anarchs, and even fledgling figures that out. (“Sounds like you’re the Prince of the Anarchs.”) He’s very much the Baron of Downtown LA, even if he won’t use that language. As for the grating day-to-day management and leadership stuff that might make him somewhat unpopular among the Anarchs, though? He fobs all that stuff off on Damsel!

Damsel, his Minion No. 1—whom a lot of players will hate on their early playthroughs, because she assigns tough missions with little to no reward. Damsel, who has no real power role in the Anarchs and functions only to serve Nines. You help Damsel, and you do Nines’s work—i.e. you do the work of the Barony of LA—and he doesn’t even have to take the admiration hit by having to ask you himself.

There’s only one non-follower of note around Nines. It’s Jack, and by his own words, he’s not one of Nines’s people; he disparages them, in fact. And we’ll notice that Jack—who is stronger, older, and wiser than Nines—very much doesn’t talk about Nines the same way Nines’s followers do. While Jack doesn’t directly insult him and occasionally defends him, Jack also has a downright shocking response to the announcement of the Blood Hunt. When fledgling desperately asks what they can do to help Nines—Jack says, word-for-word: I could give a damn.

Something ain’t quite right about this place.

Moving right along:

NINES IS A FAKE ALPHA MALE WHO KNOWS HE’S GOING TO DIE

Part of why Nines is so attractive to someone scared and weak like our fledgling (or Skelter or Damsel) is that he seems utterly fucking untouchable—like nothing scares him, and that must be reassuring when two of your age-old enemies are moving into town. But Nines’s tough, cool, Devil-may-care persona outs itself as a protective shell, too… and this is another thing I think Troika handled so subtly and so well.

You’ll notice that even Nines’s voice is dramatically different in a couple different situations: when Ming Xiao is borrowing his body, when he’s afraid, and when he’s distracted or deeply disturbed. (A successful Malkavian mind read will really slam a crack in his coolguy persona. For a second, the nonchalance shatters and he childishly screams SHUT UP!)

But whether you Malk him or not: In those isolated moments, the Coolguy Nines Rodriguez we normally see frays. Physically, even! His accent loses its burr (that ballsy rural American everyman accent), shoots up to a higher register—and reveals a much softer voice than the one he uses in front of other people. No wonder; part of Nines’s charisma comes from his performance of masculine confidence, and even if it’s not a toxically patriarchal masculinity in the way we often picture it, the fact this performance cracks at all shows it’s not his genuine self. He’s acting. In the way a lot of toughguy men do—but for Nines, whose survival depends upon attraction now, he’s acting toughguy for his very life.

I think those little fray-under-pressure moments are the “real” Nines, or as close as we’re going to get: scared, desperate, worn-down, and very aware of his doom.

Now, all that said…

BLATANT FALLEN REBEL CONCEPT APOLOGISM

I don’t think we can quite throw Rodriguez into the same Mean Monster Morality Dungeon for Evil Vampires as other Big Bads in LA. This is where motivation comes into play, at least for me. We know Nines can be merciless and violent, and he doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice his own soldiers (namely, um, US!) to protect his holdings. But he does seem to have a twinge of genuine anger over injustices wrought upon “little people” (look no further than Nocturne)—one that seems like it stems from a sense of right v. wrong rather than sheer pragmatism. This stands in stark opposition to the rationed pacificism of characters like LaCroix, who simply doesn’t want the headache of cleaning up a pile of dead humans on his nightly to-do list.

Nines also, of course, just doesn’t have the same kind of disaster reach other Bloodlines Big Bads do in how much harm he can cause. When LaCroix gets up to some bullshit, he crashes the national economy. Nines, like, crashes a car into a corporate office window or takes over a street or something. Can’t really compare the two when it comes to the scale of damage done.

And even Nines Rodriguez is, for all his strategy, still an honestly angry person. Not all of him is fake—what’s troubling about him is what he’s willing to sacrifice and do to satiate his anger-passion. It’s the standard Brujah emotional-moral struggle. Even though I agree with much of what he says about bloodsucking late capitalist vampires (tbh he seems to hate vampires in general!), one wonders if it’s not partially the anger-passion that’s warped him into the façade of a noble leader he’s become. It’s not a pure anger anymore; he’s weaponized it in selfish, unhealthy, destructive ways.

But if he’s a fallen rebel—and since he is still apparently capable of some genuine anger and sadness—then we can infer he wasn’t always like this. He fell, and narratively, that’s key to understanding Clan Brujah. Maybe he fell in a way all of us angry rebel-types risk falling if we let our hatred of the bloodsuckers in real life outgrow and consume our care for the real-world little people.

I think we also have to appreciate that—as far as we know—the shady shit Nines does, he primarily does to prolong his power. But for a threatened Anarch like Nines, power doesn’t mean expansion or accumulation as it might for an ascending Ventrue; it primarily means survival. The Camarilla and Kuei-jin incursions into LA have numbered his days, and he can’t possibly have any delusions about this, no matter how much he swaggers. So he does what he can do with the skills and limited resources he has. He corrupts vulnerable, angry, abused people by giving them the appearance of friendship, family, and hope they can become stronger—much like effective gang leaders do.

If he’s morally nastier than other power-players like LaCroix in some way, imo, it’s here. It’s the intimacy with which he manipulates the people around him. LaCroix may lie to you; Strauss may withhold information from you; Ming Xiao may double-cross you. But none of them ask that you love them. That’s not their goal; that’s not how they operate. None of them expect or encourage anyone to happily die for them of their own free will. If they get you killed, you’ll die resenting them—resenting that you had to die, at all.

But when you die for people like Nines Rodriguez, you do it willingly, if only because you believed he cared somehow and that he’d fight tooth-and-nail for you, too. You believed that you were a member of his little outcast family—or that you would be, if you just proved yourself a little bit more. If you just fought a little harder. If you were just a little happier about having the chance to die for the cause. Maybe if you die for Nines, then Nines will love you, too.

I don’t think he does. I don’t think he will. If he’s a true fallen rebel archetype, I don’t know if he can anymore.

That’s enough Anarchs for now! I’m gonna peace out with some copy/pasted lyrics from the theme song of Nines’s den: the ballad of the charming and vengeful Lecher Bitch. Stay sharp, my little Bloodlines fanatics!

Tell me your story Don't worry, I've been there Crown me your savior Don't worry, I'll be there

[Chorus] I said hey You're coming all the way I've got some hell to pay I'm diggin' all the way All the way down I said hey You're coming all the way I've got some hell to pay Gonna rip you every way On the way down again [Bridge] Don't belong lording above me Won't be hard to pull you underground It won't be long 'til you love me And I'll be coming at your back To break it down

[adamarks]

simon snow has fucking dragon powers or some shit and this is my goddamn proof

Whilst you people were having a meltdown over Baz and Simon not hashing it out (Simon’s not in a place of understanding his self worth enough for that yet.), I was having a meltdown about Simon Snow The Literal Fucking Dragon. 

Now, this is obviously going to have major spoilers for Wayward Son. I’m going to assume you’ve read it if you’re reading this. I’ve put a lot of thought into this theory and this is a long ass post so I’m putting it under the cut. Now. Let’s go, lesbians!

First and foremost, let’s start with the wings and tail. 

Simon’s wings are established at the very beginning of Wayward Son to represent something. We don’t really get to quite know what that something is until they start referring to Simon’s wings the same way they used to refer to his magic. 

The most direct reference to Simon’s wings symbolizing his magic is in Simon’s section of the prologue at the very end of the book:

“It’s time for me to stop pretending I’m some sort of superhero. I was that-- I really was-- but I’m not anymore. I don’t belong in the same world as sorcerers and vampires. That’s not my story.

Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready. I could go back to school then, or get a job...”

This section directly confirms that yes, these wings are a metaphor for Simon’s magic. They’re all he has left connect him to the world of magic. They’re the only thing still making him feel even remotely on the same level as Baz and Penelope. (This book really was all about the concept of self-worth and how completely lacking it affects not only us but those we love. Phew, talk about a doozy. No wonder we’re all crying.)

Now that we’ve established that Simon’s wings, at the very least, are his one tether to magic, let’s drive the nail into the coffin of the wings and tail being absolutely, 100% symbolic of his magic. 

As I mentioned earlier, the book starts treating the wings exactly the same as it treated his magic. This even starts before Wayward Son. The first mention of Simon’s emotions relating to his wings and tail is in the first book. In the epilogue, in Baz’s section, during the dance scene. 

“His tail whips out of my hand. It tends to slash around when he’s upset.”

This really starts to come out in the last fourth of Wayward when he’s “itching for a fight.”

His wings constantly poke, prod, and generally annoy Baz and Penny because he refuses to put them away. Almost.... like... how his magic..... felt suffocating.... and too much... and he couldn’t push it back... or tamp it down. *cough*

Okay, so that was all pretty basic, boring, base-building stuff, yeah?  Pretty “whatever we get it.” 

Well, here’s where it starts to get fun. 

Let’s talk about Simon’s Mirrors.

Lemme just explain what the hell a mirror is, first. In case we all flunked our high school Lit classes. 

A mirror character is, in simple terms, a character that acts, looks like, or reminds you of one of the main characters. Through these “mirror characters” some important information about the main character is revealed to us subtextually. 

Let’s name our Simon mirrors:

Ebb 

Agatha (she’s being developed as her own character but that’s not stopping her from mirroring our good lad.)

Aunt Fiona (to some extent anyway. she doesn’t really factor here.) 

There might be some minor ones I’m forgetting (I’m not including foils) but these are our main guys. 

I put Ebb on the list first, but let’s start with Agatha, the cranky heroine of our dreams. 

Throughout the whole first book, Agatha is shown to be Simon’s mirror. Them both mooning over Baz in almost the exact same way. (Jesus Christ they’re embarrassing to watch.) The waiting on rooftops, the handkerchief. (Don’t get me started on Simon carrying around Baz’s scarf in Wayward. I’m soft and everything hurts. Our poor, stupid, stupid boys.) It’s not exactly subtle. 

In Carry On, Agatha reveals just how much Simon also resents his fate. He never really expresses it, but Agatha is reflecting to us how he’s feeling. They both get progressively less resigned to the bullshit “Chosen One” fate as the book goes on. They both make it out alive. Maybe everything will be okay. 

But then Rainbow rolls up with a Sex On The Beach and Gucci sunglasses to tell us that “fuck no everything’s not okay.” (She’s right. God, I could go on a rant about how no one ever talks about how you feel when you’ve defeated the villain. When you’ve escaped the dungeon. Hhhhh)

Wayward Son immediately sets Agatha up as even more of a mirror than she was in the first book. We’re shown right away that the two of them are both in a depressed funk. They’re both at “15%” and miserable. These two are echoing each other like NEVER before and I am LIVING for it. 

Like, we even get this amazing bit in Chapter Four:

“That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, ‘Oh, that’s who I am. That’s why I’ve been so confused.’”

They! Are! Struggling!

Now, how does this relate to Simon having literal fucking dragon powers? Good question, thank you for asking. 

In Chapter Fifty-Six, when Pen and Agatha are stuck in the back of Fuckwad Vampire #3′s car, Agatha says this:

“I honestly thought I could walk away from it all-- like magic was a place. Like magic was a person. Or a habit I could break.

When Simon first came to Watford, he couldn’t make his wand work. He could barely cast a spell. He thought they were going to kick him out, that he wasn’t magic enough. 

“You don’t do magic,” Penelope told him. “You are magic.”

I... am magic. 

Whether I like it or not, whether or not I claim it. Whether or not I carry my wand. 

It’s in me, somehow. Blood, water, bone.”

They!! Are!! Both!! Magic!! 

Magic is in them! Magic is with them! They’re made of the stuff! They can’t cut off this part of them, no matter how much they want to. (lmao. talk about good old internalized homophobia. I don’t really have an opinion on what Agatha’s sexuality is, btw. I’m using homophobia as a blanket term because I have no clue what’s up on that front.)

Simon is made of magic. He doesn’t want to remove his wings. Even though he has to hide them. Even though he thinks he’s a Normal now. Like Penny said, “an aeroplane is still an aeroplane even if it’s on the ground.” (I’m not sure that’s verbatim, apologies.)

Simon still has magic. We just can’t see it. He’s made of magic. He is magic. He was literally conceived during a spell. Bitch is as magical as you can get. 

But where is the magic???? Where’d it go???? Hello????

I’m getting there. I promise. First, we need to talk about Ebb. 

Ebb wasn’t only Simon’s weird Aunt figure; she was his mirror. Ebb was what would’ve happened to Simon if he hadn’t rejected the mage at the end of Carry On. Ebb just gave in. She didn’t want to fight anymore, and she figured Shithead The Great knew more than she did. 

God I just fucking hate Mage so much like holy shit. Anyway, anyway. 

Ebb was the strongest magician next to Simon. She didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to use her magic for any great purpose. She just wanted to be. Agatha even reiterates this in the epilogue of Carry On.

 “Like, they couldn’t just let her be.”

(No, Simon doesn’t miss killing things in Wayward. He misses excitement and having a purpose. He mainly misses having a purpose. Not having one of those fucking sucks.)

What the fuck does Ebb have to do with this? Why can’t I just get to the point?

My point is!

My Point IS!

That goddamn dragon with the sheep was supposed to remind you of Ebb.

So, let’s do the math. If 1=1x1= 1 then...

Ebb = Margaret = Simon

Sure, sure we had Simon screeching that he wasn’t a dragon. But Margaret was immediately like, 

“Not yet.” She pets his wing. “Are kitten. Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

Simon smells like a dragon, but also apparently “smells like iron.” Whatever the fuck that means. I mean I guess it means that Baz could still sippy sippy. (Which is gonna happen or I’ll eat my own toe.) 

One more thing: 

“I wanted wings,” he says. “I wanted to fly.”

“Why tail?”

“I wanted to be free!”

Gee, that sure sounds like what Agatha was saying earlier, huh?

YEAH OKAY HE’S HALF DRAGON!! WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT!!! WHAT THE FUCK AM I ON ABOUT!!!!

Omg thank you for asking. I’m going to blow your mind with my final point. 

The Final Point: The Baz Problem.

Wayward Son is, by all accounts, Baz’s book. It develops everyone beautifully and everyone has an arc, but this book is where Baz gets to shine. 

We found out in this book that vampires are immortal.

This introduced a whole new issue, an issue that surfaces every time immortality is introduced as a possibility for one character but not the rest. 

Someday, Baz will be left alone.

He’ll inevitably outlive everyone he cares about. We all know our poor, beautiful, delicate bastard boy couldn’t take it. How deeply he cares is his most beautiful and wonderful trait, and this could break him. 

I wonder, how long does a dragon live?

Penny talks about the improbability of Simon and Baz in Chapter Three. 

“Star-cross’d lovers. ‘From forth the fatal loins of these two foes.’ The whole shebang.”

Simon’s magic was always described as smoke and fire. The first creature we learn about Simon fighting was a dragon. (Chapter 1, first page of Carry On)

“You’ve slain a dragon, Simon. Surely you can manage a long walk and a few buses.”

 God, I just really hate Bitchface the Mage. Anywho.

Simon. The One Who Came to End Us. Simon. The One To Save Us All. Simon is the dragon and the knight. He’s his own worst enemy. His arc will be completed once he accepts the “dragon” part of himself. It’s poetic as fuck, I must admit. 

Simon has to find love and care for himself, and then this baby dragon will be grown. He’ll be “on top” as Margaret had said. (God, could you imagine all the dragons waking up? How fucking epic would THAT be? Fingers crossed.)

The monster that drains living things and the monster that burns all in its wake. These losers are starcrossed, but they complete each other. Dumbasses. I just love them so much why can’t they get their shit together. 

Simon and Baz’s storylines are utterly intertwined. They’re perfectly matched. Simon might not know it, but their hearts are already tied together; they beat in sync. They’re two stars orbiting each other. And, if we’re all very lucky, maybe they won’t crash. Maybe this story won’t end in flames. 

So, in conclusion, I really really really want Simon to breathe fire. The only other way I could see this twisting is the wings somehow going away and Simon getting a regular-magician amount of magic. That’s kinda lame tho and doesn’t complete his arc correctly. This dumb boy is a dragon now and there’s nothing we can do about it. (EDIT: actually yeah simon’s not gonna lose his wings no way in fuck. check out my meta.)  Also? I would sell my soul to see Simon getting really possessive over really weird objects for his hoard. 

Thank you for sticking with me this far, dear reader. I’ll leave you with this thought: Baz is Donkey and Simon is the dragon from Shrek. 

Check out my other meta on the future of simon and baz’s relationship and how penny and agatha relate 

scarf meta as well check it

Gonna be tagging peeps so this can circulate better. 

@carrybits @neck-mole @watfordwallflower

[boywivlove]

| Please Don't Go |

Kim Seokjin x Reader 

Summary | You and were partners in the Police force, and soon became romantic with each other. After investigating a murder you are gunned down during an on foot pursuit. Not knowing if you will pull through, Jin stays by your side in the hospital, not knowing if he will ever get an answer to questions left unsaid.

Warnings | swearing , blood, descriptions of violence, fatal injuries. 

AN | This is my fic for the `April Showers Bring May Flowers` collaboration with @bangtanscenery​ I hope you enjoy it! I based the concept on the song `Please Don't Go` by Joel Adams listen to it if you can its a great song <3 Please enjoy and lemme know what you think!!

There was no doubt in your mind that joining the Seoul Police Force was the job for you. You had always been set on becoming a cop like your father, he was the greatest man you knew, and when he died on duty, you made a promise to yourself you would become a great cop. After months of hard work, you graduated from the police academy, finally reaching your dream. 

Your partner, Kim Seokjin, had graduated from the academy four years before you, and you hung to his every word as he showed you the ropes. Jin was a great partner, his arrest record was one of the highest in the precinct, and his face wasn't bad to look at either. He was professional as he could be with his work, but he had a jovial charm that made him approachable. He always had a cheesy dad joke ready for when you would see each other at the office, and each time, he would crack you up. The best thing about your friendship is the nickname he gave you, sunflower, he knew you loved the colour yellow, and You guess it just stuck. Every greeting to you was followed with `Sunflower`

`Good morning Sunflower`

`Gloomy weather we're having Sunflower`

`Coffee?  Sunflower`

You never caught on, but Jin was starting to fall for you, outside of work when the district officers would go for drinks or a meal, Jin always sat next to you, banter was always exchanged and aside from work you had a great deal in common. He wanted to keep it professional, he knew how distracting office relationships were, but it happened, he fell for you. He fought off his feelings for as long as he could, but seeing your smiling face greet him everyday at work got him. 

He didn't even know if you felt the same, you never hinted that  you wanted anything more than friendship from him, and on several occasions, you voiced how you couldn't see how office romances work out, either romantically or professionally. Jin had to agree, especially in the police force, there was too much to factor in, but he threw caution to the wind.

Jin had turned up at your apartment at 10pm, which you immediately thought was strange, social calls at night were not usually Jin's thing. But as you greeted your friend you were surprised by the bouquet of sunflowers, and his out of breath ramblings to you

` if I don't try, I'll never know… I don't know if this will work with us, but, i want to try…`

And the rest was history.  Two years later and you and Jin were still going strong, 

To say you were stressed is an overstatement. You haven't eaten all day, working on this case was the most important task in your eyes. Jungkook had to eventually drag you from your desk and take you out to a diner to your objection, only relenting when it was agreed to bring your paperwork along. The whole force was still grieving and doing their best. But you felt a personal grievance in this particular case. It had all started a few weeks ago, There had been a string of murders in the area, and the police were on the hunt for a suspected serial killer. It seemed the suspects M.O was targeted at doctors, nurses and emergency responders. Whoever this killer was, it seemed he had not planned these murders, all spur of the moments, possibly driven by a grievance, feeling wronged in some way by the people working in medical care. This killer had the same method of killing, gunning their victim down in a moment of opportunity, but after they had killed the victim, the killer gave one more bullet, an execution style shot to the head. 

The personal connection she had in this case was felt by the whole force. The murderer had changed his M.O, and gunned down a police officer who was working the case. Officer Kim Taehyung graduated from the academy with you and a few other officers on the squad.You had been close with Taehyung, you introduced him to his wife Seol, and he had teased you about Jin's sunflower nickname for you. He was a great cop, and a great husband. He and Seol had just welcomed their first child, a little boy, Kim Sung Jae. Now, Tehyung will never see his son grow up, and Sung Jae will never get to know his father. Your heart broke for the boy, as you yourself know what it's like to grow up without your father. 

You and Jungkook had spent hours at the diner, and the paperwork was finally done, now you were nursing a coffee when Jungkook decided to ask about Jin, honestly since taehyung's death, you'd barely seen him, he and Namjoon had been moved to the night shift weeks prior to work on different cases and fill out paperwork, and with you and Jungkook on day shift, you barely get time with him. You knew he had not been sleeping well either, he and Taehyung had gotten close after you had both started dating, and he had taken his sudden death just as badly as you had. 

“ Im sorry for your  loss Y/n, I didn't know Taehyung that well, but he was a great officer.”

“Yeah, I just hate that he will never see Sung Jae grow up, I know what it's like to lose your father in duty…”

You sighed and sipped on the now cold coffee, it was just as sad and bitter like this whole situation. Lost in thought you didn't register Jungkook taking your hand in his, a firm grip reassuring you slightly.

“We will catch this guy Y/N,” 

The way Jungkook said it with such conviction moved you, he was a good kid. Jungkook was  one of the youngest officers on the squad, and to you he became something like a younger brother

.“I know we will, we have to.”

With the paperwork done and the coffee now ice cold, you and Jungkook left the diner and headed to your squad car, you wondered how Jin was holding up. You didn't want to make an issue out of nothing, but recently, Jin was acting odd. The grief and working late was one thing, but it was like he was trying to hide something from you, and it made you slightly worry.

You find yourself coming out thinking about him, you barely registered Jungkook pulling you down behind the passenger side door as the window shattered into pieces falling onto you both. 

You snapped out of your inner thoughts, another loud noise making its way into your ears. A gunshot. Jungkook radios for backup as he notes that shots have been fired in the area, you look towards the back street of the diner, seeing a shadowy figure with its gun pointed at you, and as you draw your gun your partner lets out a shot of his own. The shadowy figure doesn't seem phased and lets off another round of shots towards you both before his gun clicks, signally it's empty. You see the figure make a run for it towards the main street. You were sure, more sure than anything in your career as a cop, that this was the guy you were looking for. The guy who killed Taehyung. Not wanting to let him get away, you and Jungkook speed off after the culprit, radioing once again to update the situation. 

“ This is officer Jeon, requesting back up….shots fired …..were in pursuit of the culprit approximately  five foot male grey hoodie, black jeans…”

You ran ahead of Jungkook, ramming through pedestrians and across the busy roads, he was not about to get away, not after all the pain he's caused people. You see him duck into an alleyway and you quickly run after him, your gun aimed and ready to shoot should he not surrender peacefully. Your eyes were looking over every little detail, the alley led out to the back streets  of the high street, he couldn't have run straight though, the alley being lengthy and blocked by rather large dumpsters. You cautiously made your way forward. You could hear your rapid pulse in your head, every beat getting louder and louder. You scanned ahead and while making your way forward, you heard it, the sound of a can being kicked across the floor. Coming from behind you. 

You turned quickly and then you felt something heavy connect with the side of your head. Your vision flashed with white as you fell disoriented to the ground, The perp had hit you with a brick, the corner covered in blood as he dropped it to the ground, you could feel the warm sticky liquid start to run down your head and seep into the collar of your shirt. You could see double, the alleyway swaying as the perp made his way to where you had dropped to the floor. You felt the wind go out of your lungs as he landed a sharp kick to your stomach. The pain and the force of the kick only seemed to magnify the harsh vibrations your head wound was giving you. You tried to reach for your gun, which had dropped after the blow to your head, but the perp was faster. He seemed to toy with the idea of what to do, looking at the gun with his head tilted to the side.

 You had never felt this scared in your whole career. Risking your life was just a part of the job, but the pain you felt was frightening. You felt as though you were staring into the abyss when he looked you in the eyes. His black orbs seemed to stare through to your core, seeing every part off you, and when he registered your fear. He didn't even seem to relish it as you thought he would. If you weren't so disoriented, you would think that maybe this was why he killed his victims with a shot to the head, simple and quick. This was rushed and sloppy for him. A shot rang out. The warm feeling in the side of your head had spread to your abdomen. Looking down, you see the pool of red that surrounds you, the metallic taste in your mouth was stronger, it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe. you stay awake just long enough to see the perp aim his gun at someone making their way into the alley.

Jungkook, finally caught up with you, let out three gunshots, killing the perp on the shot. The commotion from the main streets starting to zone in on the gunshots, Jungkook rushes to check you over, your pulse faint, and your skin cold to the touch. His jacket is pressed into your stomach, trying to stem the blood that was covering you from the waist down. You could faintly hear him screaming at the radio com for the EMTs to get here. 

Four weeks, it had been four weeks since Jin's whole world stopped. He hadn't slept, shaved, or had a decent meal in two weeks. How could he? He was almost certain his heart had stopped beating the moment he got the news.

 He had been making his way to work when he got the call, the captain, he had been vague, asking him to come to the hospital, but he knew, he knew it had something to do with you. He hadn't heard from you all day. But recently, that was the norm. This case had everyone on edge and overtime was greatly needed. The only time Jin saw you that wasn't in passing was when you were heading out and he was coming home, and vice versa. He had also been avoiding you for a reason. He didn't want you to find out during all this, he had wanted to wait for the right moment, not wanting to spring this on you on top of grieving and working overtime. Jin had met Jungkook at the reception, his shirt was stained red, his usual black work blazer was missing from his usual attire, he knew. Jin knew the moment he was Jungkook that something bad had happened to you. 

“Doctor please. How is she!? Is she alright? No one will say anything to me…”  He was desperate to know, but Jungkook was silent, his face seemed to be like marble, threatening to crack.

The doctors eventually got Jin alone, away from the busy hallways of the intensive care unit. Jin felt his whole world crash, his sun dropping from the sky like a led balloon.

“The shots perforated her stomach and penetrated the large and smaller intestines… we resected what we could… but the damage was severe…her head injury had caused slight swelling on the brain and has caused her to enter a comatose state...mr Kim… I'll be frank. With this amount of damage...there's a slim chance of her pulling through..but..”

“But what…”

“You might want to get in contact with her family, let them know she may not wake up”

He made his way to his destination, the light from the early sunset had illuminated the hall in a warm amber glow, he bathed in its warmth for a moment, the feeling of the sun on his skin felt like a hug from you. 

The soft, yellow, warmth. It was you. 

He came to the same place he'd been coming to for weeks, the flowers he had placed days ago had wilted, the petals dry and falling to the floor. 

Sunflowers. Your favourite. 

He replaced the dead flowers with new freshly cut ones, disposing of the old ones in the waste bin.  Jin then sat down and looked out of the window. The same soft amber glow from the hallway had made its way inside the room.

His mind replayed the moment he first walked into this room. The hurt and anguish still stained on his memory.

You had looked so broken. Your pale skin, the needles that stuck out of you from the I.V, the bandages. It was so hard for Jin not to break down right there on the floor. 

It had been four weeks since you were brought to the intensive care unit. And Jin had been given leave to get himself together while you tried to pull through. You had stabilised, but you still remained in the coma. Jin had to take that with a grain of salt. You were fighting, and that's all he asked for. There was so much he still wanted to say to you. So many moments you and he had yet to go though. Jin had to hold onto those yet to be moments, as a reminder everyday that you were fighting to come back to him. 

“Hey sunflower, I brought you some more, the last ones had started to wilt again, I got you a bigger bouquet this time, thought i'd make up for how fast you go through them…”

Jin sat beside you, his hand takes yours in his, stroking your knuckles slowly. He brought your hand up to his face as he traced kisses over each knuckle, and then your palm. He would give anything to hold you properly. He would give anything to see your beautiful eyes shine in the light again. His breathing hitched as he trained himself not to cry.

“Love, I know you're fighting, and I know you can hear me. But I need you to fight more. I have so much I have to say to you. I should have asked you a year ago when I bought this, but I could never find the perfect moment.”

Jin looked to the bedside table, the velvet box sat next to the sunflowers, and he kissed your fingers one by one. 

“I promise, I will ask you the moment you wake up. Just come back to me Y/N, please.”

“Please don't go.”

[danidoesathing]

ok! i’ve got the beginning and end written, it’s the middle that i need to write still, and it’s disgustingly sweet (i’ll post it to ao3 when i’ve got it finished bc i refuse to upload an unfinished work). also lemme know if you wanna read the ending as well, i wasn’t sure (it, too, is fluffy to hell and back)

Chapter 1:

Tim hated this. He hated it all. He’d rather be anywhere else in the world if he could, he could’ve been at home in his room with his laptop and Jay to talk to, but instead he was here with his mom who thought that she had any right to his life after leaving it for good (when he was twelve years old in a mental hospital too, who did that to their child?) and apparently forgot why she did, since she wouldn’t shut up. He’d had enough by the third hour of the “vacation” she took him to, and maybe if he hadn’t hated pity as much as he did, especially from the one that caused him to be pitied, he would have enjoyed the five-star hotel stay more, rather than feel like he was stuck in one long panic attack. He had managed to get away, though. He excused himself to the bathroom and felt grateful she had allowed him that much. He didn’t pay too much attention to the walk to the bathroom - he was trying to breathe in and out regularly and count to ten and pay attention to what he felt and all the other coping methods they taught him in the ten years he spent in the psych ward. He only realized there was someone else in the bathroom when the person (Tim assumed they were male, this was the men’s bathroom) sighed and firmly said, “I need more time, you can’t just ruin my entire life to gain a few weeks.” 

Brian had really been looking forward to the week he’d spend on his own - privacy and being alone weren’t really concepts that his family understood, and it had only gotten worse when the marriage proposal came. He’d tried to explain countless times that he was gay and that he would rather marry a frog than the fake, manipulative, entitled, rude, homophobic, racist, bitchy, but most importantly rich girl his parents had chosen for him to marry. As if he’d spend more than a minute within a five-mile radius of the piece of shit who wanted his money and his name, nothing else. When the call from his mother (Brian had stopped calling Carol Thomas his mom years ago, when she first started denying his issues and instead punished him for things he couldn’t control) came, he escaped to the bathroom since it was closer than his room, even though it was a lot less private. He didn’t think anything would go wrong, it wasn’t busy at the restaurant and even if someone entered, they would probably leave him alone to suffer in his misery. 

Brian hadn’t noticed the tired man who slunk into the bathroom at first, but when he saw the defeated slump of his shoulders and how utterly exhausted his eyes looked, his mother demanded that he come home the next day. He was pretty sure that everyone within the state could hear his sigh, and he thought about how he had gotten so sick of his own family that this was the case with every conversation he had with them. After his final compromise, he hung up without saying goodbye or waiting for Carol to respond. He knew what she would have said anyway, was far too familiar with the same conversation.

Tim hesitated, trying to figure out what to do - he couldn’t just leave and pretend he’d heard nothing, but he didn’t know this man, like, at all, so he also couldn’t try to comfort him or ask him what was wrong, because something clearly was. 

“Family problems,” Brian said into the silence, which was probably just a few seconds long but to Tim’s anxiety-ridden mind it was a lifetime of waiting. 

Tim smiled slightly. “I’m familiar.” 

Brian made an interested noise.  “You tell me about your life, and I tell you ‘bout mine, alright?” 

He understood what sort of deal this was, he was used to therapists and doctors and psychiatrists trying to take his brain apart and figure out what was wrong with him, to try to fix him (or that’s what they said, but he wasn’t sure there weren’t any other reasons behind their words). He despised being treated like a wild animal who could lose his mind and attack at any moment, with a single wrong move. They had treated him like he was dangerous and they pitied him for it, but Brian, he hadn’t looked scared of Tim. He hadn’t acted like he was trying to play it safe - rather, he had tried to make Tim feel comfortable by making himself as vulnerable as Tim was. He realized that he didn’t want to strangle Brian. I’ve spent so much time with psychologists that I’ve started acting like one, analyzing everything and everyone’s actions. Tim laughed internally at the thought. 

“Sure. I don’t have anything else to do anyway,” He responded, and told Brian about his current predicament with his mother, leaving out the parts in which he was at the hospital - he just said that he had a chronic illness and his mom had left him at 12 when he had been in the hospital for four years. 

“Shit, dude, that really sucks. She doesn’t have any right to your life now, you know that right?” Brian said at the end of Tim’s story, after a short pause to take it all in. “I’m going to sound like a whiny white asshole with my story now,” he added. Tim shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. After all, my life doesn’t invalidate yours,” he said, and the corners of Brian’s mouth twitched up. “I guess you’re right,” he said, and started explaining how his parents wanted him to marry a rich woman high up the ladder of status in the elite community he was born into, and Tim could feel himself tensing up and his mind starting to buzz. 

Brian noticed that the man in front of him was looking a little off, and stopped midway through describing that he only had the next week or so to find his soulmate, otherwise he’d be stuck with someone he hated for the rest of his life. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly, and the other man (Brian only just realized that he knew this man’s life story but not his name, and mentally reprimanded himself for not introducing himself and asking his name) took a shuddering breath. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, and Brian didn’t call him out on his bullshit. “Please continue, I’m way too invested in your life now.” He smiled, and Brian laughed. 

“Alright, but first, you have to tell me your name because I’ve realized we haven’t introduced ourselves and it’s killing me,” Brian said.

“My name’s Tim Wright.”

“Brian Thomas. Nice to meet you, I guess,” Tim rolled his eyes at Brian’s antics, but Brian knew he was amused, as evidenced by Tim’s light snort. Tim told him to get on with the story, (a bit like a whining child, but in a good way, Brian thought) and he responded with, “Okay, okay, I’ll get to it then.”

“There isn’t much left,” Brian warned. When Tim nodded his understanding, he continued from where he had stopped, and when he had finished talking about his current fucked-up situation, the other man had been shocked into silence. 

“You have to be kidding me,” he finally said. “There’s no way that that shit’s real and actually happening to you.” 

Brian shook his head and sighed. “I wish I was, but nope! My parents are just assholes who are outta their minds.” 

Tim thought for a second - he had to do something, but he didn’t know what he could to be able to help. He chewed on his lip, and after a minute or so, had an idea that he thought could possibly work. 

“How about we pretend that we’re soulmates?” he asked Brian, who looked taken aback but also as if he was considering Tim’s proposition. Tim was about to backtrack and apologize, maybe say something along the lines of or we can just not do that if you don’t want to I’m sorry for bringing it up you must think I’m so creepy and weird and can we just ignore this ever happened?  

But then Brian nodded thoughtfully, and said, “Actually, I can imagine how that would work. I’d call my parents and tell them that I’ve already found my soulmate and that I want to spend more time with you, and you’d talk to them in order to convince them further if they don’t believe me. I already know I’m gay, so my soulmate is definitely a man, so your voice being a guy’s wouldn’t be a problem and when I find my actual soulmate, if they sound different to you, we could just blame it on the phone being weird through the call. We could say that we wanna spend a few weeks getting to know each other before I leave, and during that time I could find my real soulmate. If I can’t, then we can come up with scenarios in which I’d need to stay longer until I do. Yeah, actually, this is a really good idea, Tim.” 

“Uh, really? I mean, thanks,” Tim said, still reeling from Brian’s rambling. “How are we going to do this? Do you like, I don’t know, wanna call your parents and I can talk to them?”

“Yeah, sure, give me a sec,” Brian fished in his pocket for his phone and Tim internally panicked while Brian called his mother. He would have had a panic attack, but before he could truly get worked up, Brian was already talking. 

“Hey mother, guess what happened - no, you’ll never guess - I found my soulmate! And he’s a guy like I said he would be! Oh, you don’t want my soulmate to be a man? Well, unfortunately, apparently the universe doesn’t share your homophobic views - oh come on, would I lie about this? You don’t believe me? Fine, I guess I’ll have to prove it. Mother, meet Tim.”

“Hello Mrs. Thomas, it’s nice to meet you,” Tim said, and Brian couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and he didn’t want Tim to be there for it. He hated his parents, and the thought of them hurting Tim in any way was unbearable. Wait, what? I met him like 15 minutes ago, why do I care so much about him? He was going to figure out his feelings regarding Tim, but then he saw how he was getting anxious, so he decided to intervene now and unpack his shit later. 

Grabbing the phone from Tim, he told his parents that he and Tim wanted to get to know each other by staying at the hotel for longer, and when they objected, he simply reminded them that he was his own person and as an adult, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, slowly getting more pissed off with every word that his parents said. Knowing that he would snap if he listened to more of their bullshit, he hung up after letting them know he would stay for a few more weeks in Ohio, though probably in a motel (he wasn’t rich enough to spend weeks at a five-star hotel). He looked at Tim. “Are you okay? You looked pretty freaked out there, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put that much pressure on-”

“No, no, you’re fine. I guess I just felt overwhelmed, sort of? I don’t really know why I felt so anxious, but I’ve been dealing with anxiety for, like, 16 years. I should be used to it by now,“ Tim assured Brian. "Plus, it worked, didn’t it? they weren’t happy, but they seem to have believed us, so you can stay for a few more weeks and try to find your soulmate. Actually, why are you searching in Ohio and not Alabama anyway? Aside from the obvious reason, of course.” he added. 

Brian frowned. “I don’t really know, I guess this just felt closer to my soulmate. You know how your mark is supposed to like, tingle and shit?” Tim nodded, and Brian continued. “Yeah, I guess that’s why - Ohio feels like I’m closer to finding them than in Alabama." 

"Yeah, I think I get it. It feels the same for me too, if I think about it - my mark feels weird and that’s never happened before, so I must be doing something right,” Tim said after thinking for a while, and Brian laughed.

“Hey, who knows, maybe we’ll find our soulmates in here, and maybe we’ll find them at around the same time - that would be so cool! You know, I think I rather like you, Tim. I’d like to be friends - if you wanna, of course,” Brian said, and Tim answered with an affirmative. 

“Well, you’re pretty cool yourself Brian Thomas, and I would indeed like to be friends, but I really gotta go. Emily’s probably going out of her mind, wondering where her son she found after 12 years went to,” Tim joked, and they exchanged numbers. 

“ So, I still have a week or so left, which means I’ll probably see you around the hotel and shit. Bye Tim,” Brian called as he left the bathroom, and Tim waved back before following.

  Chapter 2:

Brian walked back to his room, since he had already finished his dinner, and contemplated the last hour. He had gone from having to fight his parents for less than a week to find his soulmate to being given permission (well, sort of. Brian thought it counted if they had always encouraged him to do something until it actually got to the point in which said thing would be applicable - they couldn’t just change their minds because they were homophobic assholes) for almost a month doing whatever he wanted wherever he wanted to. 

Of course, there was also Tim. He didn’t quite understand why he liked Tim already, or why Tim had helped him, but he knew that he didn’t regret it at all. Plus, they were friends now, and he felt that they would only get closer with time. He’d arrived at his room by this point, and after entering, he decided that he wouldn’t get anything else done today. Within minutes he was in bed - no point pretending to be functional when there was nobody around to see it, and plus, he was very sleep-deprived and he should probably go to sleep to fix that. 

Since he’d been lying still with his eyes closed for over an hour, Brian believed that he was justified in going on his phone. However, once he opened his phone, he realized that he didn’t really have anything to do, and in a moment of boredom and apathy for his future, he decided to text Tim.

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: Hey tim

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: it’s me brian

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: if you couldn’t tell

  He was surprised to see that Tim was online, and soon enough, he saw Tim’s typing bubble pop up.

  Tim [23:44]: yeah 

Tim [23:44]: i saved your number

  Tim [23:44]: anyway whats up

  Brian smiled because of course Tim was awake, he totally seemed like the type of person who’s constantly tired and sleep-deprived.

  savingprivatebrian [23:44]: nothing

  savingprivatebrian [23:45]: i just couldnt sleep

  Tim [23:45]: i get that

Tim [23:46]: insomnias a bitch

  savingprivatebrian [23:46]: yep

savingprivatebrian [23:47]: so do you wanna just talk until we can sleep

  Tim [23:47]: please

He laughed at Tim’s response, and settled comfortably into his nest of pillows (perks of five-star hotels) to talk to Tim.

In the end, they both agreed to go to sleep at around 3:30 in the morning, after having texted for almost four hours. If he wasn’t so sleepy, he might’ve wondered why conversation was so easy when he was talking to Tim when he normally wouldn’t be able to even form sentences with people he knew as little as he knew Tim. Instead, though, he placed his phone on the bedside drawer, rolled over, and fell asleep within minutes, still with a little smile playing on his lips.

  Chapter 3:

  A week later, Tim’s mother left to go back to work, and Tim promised her that he’d come to visit every now and then. He was surprised to find that he was planning to keep that promise - after his mom explained her reasons, he learned that she hadn’t left because she wanted to, only because she had to. Her life had been easier without him, and that realization hurt. He had held her back her entire life, and he really couldn’t blame her for having done whatever she could to get rid of the reason she couldn’t be happy. He was over it, though. He had had more than a decade to come to terms with the fact that everyone he cared about would leave him eventually, when they realized that he would always be problematic, that he would never get better, and that he would always drag them down. Why would anyone stay with that?

Then came was Brian. Tim knew that he was falling, falling hard, but he also knew that Brian didn’t feel the same - they both wanted to find their soulmates, and even if Brian did like someone as fucked up as Tim, when he found his soulmate, he’d just leave. 

He had told Brian about his mom and how he felt, as well as why he was in a hospital for 10 years, and Brian’s only reaction was to hug him (they didn’t notice that no parts of their skin had made contact, Tim would later realize) and telling him that he’d never leave. That was a bigger deal than Brian realized, and he had broken down crying, which caused Brian to start crying too. They had spent about 2 hours talking about their problems, and Tim left Brian’s room feeling better than he had for over a month. They had only been friends for a few days at that point, but there was no denying that they had a connection - they were already so, so close (and if Tim wanted them to be even closer, well, no-one had to know). 

Jay had called, on the second day. He had asked what was going on and why the hell Tim hadn’t texted or called him - rightfully so, since they usually talked daily and it had been more than 2 days with nothing. Tim had ranted about Brian and his mom, but it had taken Jay about ten minutes into Tim’s monologue to point out that he was totally crushing on Brian, and Tim had found himself unable to argue. After talking for over an hour, Jay had hung up with a threat to Tim if he didn’t text him everything that happened. 

Tim thought back to that conversation many times over the following days - he could trust Jay to call him out on his bullshit and help him work through it, and he knew Jay could do the same. Whenever his anxiety convinced him that they simply tolerated his presence and actually hated him, Tim would text Jay (and now Brian) and Jay would not stop texting him until Tim had no doubt left about their friendship.

On his last day in the hotel, a week after he arrived and met Brian, he had breakfast with Brian to talk about what they were going to do, since this was Brian’s last day too. 

“Over here,” Brian called out as Tim walked into the restaurant in the hotel, from which they got free breakfast. 

“Hey,” Tim said when he sat down. “You wanna go get some food? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sure. Just a second,” Brian put his stuff on the extra chair, and connected his phone to a charger. “My battery’s at 12 percent,” he explained at Tim’s questioning look.

“Alright, let’s go. What do you wanna get?” Brian asked when they entered the self-service area.

“Eggs and bacon first, so they cook, but I’ll look around anyway to see what’s there,” Tim answered while grabbing a plate.

“Why didn’t you get a fork and knife too?”

“Because I’ll drop them, Brian.” 

“Ha, weak.”

“Do you really want to try me?” 

“Geez, you’re just so scary.”

“I know.” 

They had reached the omelette station, and they waited for their orders to be cooked in comfortable silence, which was new to both of them. Shaking his head, Tim decided to ignore his lack of friends while he was so happy and had the chance to spend time with someone who not only could tolerate him, but also wanted to befriend him. 

He was brought back to reality by Brian nudging him, and snapped his eyes onto Brian in alarm, quickly realizing there was no threat, there was just his food (paranoia had become a reflex at this point, and he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to laugh or cry because of it). 

Throughout breakfast, Tim found his eyes lingering more and more on Brian’s lips when all social and conversational norms stated that his gaze should be on his eyes or overall figure to watch his body language and hand gestures, so like everyone else who’s ever been in this situation, he decided, okay, we’re going to put these feelings of attraction in a box, now close it, and yep! Push it as far away from coherent thought as you can, right up against the childhood trauma, self-hatred, insecurity, and look! It’s the box of fear of abandonment. Now, we don’t think about these, so surely this’ll be safe here. After cataloging everything into the dark basement of his mind, buried deep under everything else and covered in the mental equivalent of cobwebs and a layer of dust over everything, he simply looked away from Brian’s mouth and focused on literally any other part of his body, like, like- his eyes! That would surely work, wouldn’t it? You can’t possibly mess eye contact up, even though you’re, well, you, Tim. Don’t fuck this up with your social incompetence.

Yeah, no. After only a few minutes of trying to draw his attention away from what Brian would taste like, he found out that eyes are just as dangerous as lips, since he found that it was easier than it should be to get lost in Brian’s warm hazel eyes. He never realized that there were rings of different colours, and with the light framing his face, he looked otherworldly, like he didn’t belong to planet Earth or at least had some kind of magic coursing through his veins, just like warmth was coursing through Tim’s as he drowned in the ocean of brown and green filling Brian’s eye sockets. Because he was drowning, drowning, drowning as he forgot to breathe, move, do anything at all in the haze that came over him.

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

[incarnateirony]

I went off on a rant to a friend about things like Gamble Era, and miscellaneous idolized past authors, and you know what, fuck it. I'm going to say it out loud. And listen, listen this is NOT going to be my normal "Whatever you like :)" post like, this is literally an accumulation of horse shit I've seen talked about in any and all lanes for years that have been driving me fucking bananas for years. Don't just read this going HAHA I HATE GAMBLE TOO and then be shocked when I slap at inexplicably favorited authors in this fandom beyond that.

------

God how can anyone genuinely like Gamble, like, literally, legitimately and 1000%, not even about her killing Cas or whatever, what kind of pure trash TV do these people intake in mass that they think Gamble was good at her job I can not emphasize enough how cripplingly disappointing the shift from S4-5 to 6-7 was I know art is in the eye of the beholder or whatever but JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST.

Fuck constructivist theory there's a point when things are just clearly trash Benefits S7 had: Just da bros uhhhh *flips through pages* Anything else? Are dick jokes art?

Her era was overrun by plot holes you could fly boeing jets through -- and I don’t mean shit like when fandom goddamn made up in their own damn head about an angelreaper retcon even though the reaper in the same episode they said was a retcon said the deadass opposite of what everybody fucking wound themselves up about, just deadass yawning voids -- it had unstable mechanics on previously established species shit, the villain plot was one giant monster of the week that tried desperately to go back to how they handled shit like Azazel as a threat but miserably failed, the monster had the dumbest weakness possible, the characters themselves were unstable in their characterizations and not even in that general "I don't like what the show is doing with them" but episode to episode Sam flipping from ripping Dean with laughter over gay jokes to woke-sounding sentiments

The cinematic style was gone and just vacant, it was neither the overexposed horror desaturated film nor the vivid fantasy of Carver, it just sat there like an unpolished lump

While later seasons also lost the classic rock vibe for budget reasons, that too disappeared in her era so we had no film energy, no story energy, no character energy, no villain energy, no structure energy, and we didn't even have the fucking cool tunez but we had dicks allergic to windex

It even lacked the elements that gave Kripke era value

Dusty americana died, all we had left was teenage girl fuckin emo sad boi drama And even that was miserably piss poor

I have never seen such a visionless fucking disaster successfully air an entire season on my fucking TV

I will never, EVER be able to outline what a fucking disappointment it was to go from S4-5 level show maturation into this negative embarrassment by season 7.

S6 Kripke was still around to some extent and that's the only reason I can deduce, S7 minded, there was any substance to it, even if her writing and editing crew at the time were a goddamn tire fire. And then people turn around and yell feminism if you criticise the giant fucking blazing slag heap that was her era and blame anyone and everyone but her and here you FUCKING go and she does half the shit all over again in the Magicians

(The friend replied: "The season only works in reverse, which is a crime on serialised TV (and just bad screenwriting)." )

That's just it though, it's like S7 we were suddenly back to fucking episodical TV like S1-2 because enough fuckbats yelled about Good Old Days. Only instead of ʷĤε𝕣є'𝓼 đα𝒹 or 𝐓Ħⓔ DεᗰＯᶰ 卄𝓐ｓ Ƥl𝓐𝓝Ş ℱⓞｒ Ⓜ𝔢 it was   ħ𝔞ⓗａ 𝓓ＩＣ𝐤ᔕ  🍆

I mean fucking sure this show started targeting late teenage women but Kripke had started maturing it forward and then Gamble fucking rolls along and it's like she's writing for 13 year old boys suddenly

Well I say that's what she seemed to be writing for but at the time the marketing was gross objectification going LOOK PRETTY BOYS WITH GUNS and that was it, that was the substance of what they gave a shit about and apparently the kind of demographic they thought constituted the sum of the SPN audience which, go get fucked guys, seriously. No fucking wonder the ratings got gouged in half over the course of a year. And fandom yells BUT FRIDAY DEATH SLOT but go sit and spin, S6 was friday deathslot too but before Kripke disappeared as the last thread holding SOME kind of cohesive value in the piece together in S6, that went to shitfuckhell in a handbag at light speed. People migrated to SPN Fridays S6 just fine. They LEFT season 7 and then people plug their ears if they don’t like that. And Carver had to fight all S8 to get it back, /but succeeded, and then-some./ 

oh and lemme head off fandom dumbfuck argument #72 about “well Dabb’s ratings are lower than Gamble’s were so he sucks and ruined it worse” go take your fucking ass and google “national primetime ratings decline” and enjoy exploring the last fucking 70 years of TV history. Pointing out a show crashes within a year because of massive failure is not the same as people being intentionally fucking daft sods to the TV universe’s decline over the last decade so like, don’t. Don’t be that person. Because you’re still embarrassingly wrong.

(The friend replied: "That's why I don't get why people care about what the vocal minority have to say. They *already* got what they wanted. It crashed and burned. Nobody in their right mind in corporate world is gonna be like, let's try that again, let's throw more money into that burning pit That's just not happening. Gay angels or no, it just ain't." )

I mean that should have been obvious when 1. Carver brought back Cas and pretty much immediately promoted him to Regular 2. Misha then got promoted to lead credits in S12, no matter what circles of intentional, willful ignorance fandom argues about what the credits mean for petty piss fights

"LOL & MEANS HE'S LESS IMPORTANT" Shut the fuck up and sit down you basement dwelling shitlord, go watch the A-Team, tell me how Mr T is the least important character

Also unpopular fuckin opinion Robbie Thompson and Ben Edlund are not That Great. Compared to what they were SURROUNDED with they were exceptional but Berens and Yockey could run circles around them both. They just happened to give fandom shit they liked during dark times so it made them fun. Robbie Thompson and Ben Edlund are basically the baseline value of our current writing team on random names. Give me Robbie Thompson and give me Davy Perez and I see no fucking difference. People compare Edlund to Yockey because of certain shit he pulled off but like, no? If there WAS a comparison it’d be like, Meredith, and even then I can’t see any way Edlund is substantially better than Meredith but could list the other in reverse?

But if we're talking about being able to write pieces with more than 1 or 2 layers of impact I'm sorry, it's rose colored glasses that makes people idolize them

Like if people seriously objectively fucking sat and reviewed the methodology and substance of their past idol authors to the demonstratable level of the current crew where I am DEAD ASS HAVING DISCOURSE WITH THE EXEC PRODUCER ABOUT BAUDRILLARDIAN CONCEPTS AND DELILLO in the middle of a hypercomplex postmodern two-directional commentary piece on some scaffolding of sociopolitical representation commentary that SAILS past the level the ‘activists’ in this fandom think about, literally, what people like is Gay Shit They Got lobbed at them or shiny visuals. And you know what, whatever, sure, like what you like IDGAF but don't sit here like Thompson was some fucking Shakespeare. No, your fucking "meta" you -- you, in any lane, anyone, any ship, anywhere, ever -- wrote by COMPLETELY randomly associating whatever storyline you could staple on to try to pretend the text was doing what you want at the time -- is not the same as author intent and actual weight and merit to the cohesive structure of what they build.

YES YES I KNOW, Death of the Author, someone just popped that up in their head, like the ten thousand posts I've made over the last 209349 years addressing how people abusive the fuck out of the term and that's fine, interpret shit however you wanna make it do jumping jacks but don't sit here entering the time you attached Little Bo Peep as some sort of intrinsic value to Dean trying to find Sam in 1492 and act like that's some deep critical shit the authors thoughtfully laced into the piece, these are not the same fucking conversation.

Big hollow voids of statements doesn’t make a better author, it makes you bust your ass harder to actually give any sort of consequential meaning to the piece, and that has nothing to do with the quality of the author or text themselves, that has to do with your interpretation in a piece devoid of genuine thematic subtext so people desperately try to bobby pin some bullshit together. Which also is probably why this fandom can’t tell the difference between coding, interpretation, subtext, and text for their fucking life anymore.

Protip the entire goddamn writing room is pouring that gay shit in your cup that's been triple brewed above Robbie or Edlund’s pots and people are still complaining it isn't enough

Another point that drives me up a wall, "LAZARUS RISING IS THE BEST EPISODE EVER" okay like lmaooooo what the fuck are you smoking Was it impressive as fuck at the time yes it was. But again, fucking perspective. I literally went back and watched it like a month ago and I realized it was a fucking void of content compared to our modern writing, it just had one of the most impressive entrances, it DID have good directing (YES MANNERS WAS GOOD, NO DISRESPECT), and it introduced a character everybody loved. Dean was still a halfass caricature

You wanna know why everybody made that shit gay right away Because there was no fucking substance around it it was a wallpaper of a cool looking episode that was otherwise blank space to run around in on dialogue they should have thought to construct better if they didn't want it to be gay

And sure since then the author room has picked up the big gay ball and started actually turning it into some shit which, great, but this is yet again a matter of structure and intent versus throwing rotten pasta at the wall and seeing if the mold makes it stick. I don't care if you have a vegan recipe that converts the fucking mold on the pasta into a healthy sauce base that isn't what it was thrown at the wall like, and no amount of complimenting the original chef's moldy pasta means it was some tasty shit before you added 10,000 ingredients they never fucking thought about or at least a second chef came along and figure out what to do with the pile of goo.

Fandom would stop being this miserable fucking putrid stinkhole if people would collectively apply some goddamn perspective to the content they argue about before even bothering to engage with uwustiel/cest dot tumblr dot com in irrelevant argument #9238428934 they use to fence off whether they should enjoy the content or try to explore it for its value or not because there is NO. MORE. PERSPECTIVE.

YOU KNOW WHAT? IT’S FINE TO EVEN ADMIT YOU LIKED THINKY-FREE TV, THAT’S FINE, THAT’S YOUR RIGHT.

But don’t SIT here acting like a lot of these former train wrecks were “better authors” or somehow objectively “better content.” No like, you like not thinking about shit that much and staring at pretty boys or whatever, good on you, but you literally like, objectively, some of the shit I’ve seen go down is like genuinely trying to compare a toddler’s fridge art to a Vasarely and hold them both up in front of people who do art for a living. They ain’t gonna shit on the kid’s fridge art, but they’re gonna go “awwwww she’s gonna grow up to be a great artist!” before breaking down on Vasarely’s vector illusion shit, sorry, that’s just how it be. I’m sure the kid had some sort of vision to drawing the triangle over the square that kinda looks like a house but the hypercomplex thought processes simply aren’t there. 

Just people STUCK in weird idolization of shit that is so far past irrelevant to the current piece in play and fighting to win arguments while trying to convince themselves they're right and secretly dreading how titanically failboat wrong they are ignoring the sound of the glacier having ripped through their hulls SEASONS ago. The ice water has already leaked onto the fucking DECK and people are still arguing about completely ridiculous shit or fancying things that were 1/10th of the value of the current content they're claiming isn't good or enough or valid compared to the shallow specters that birthed them out of old aeons. 

Dead-ASS Kripke picked shit because it “sounded cool.” I’m sorry if there weren’t some model guys fandom wanted to hump everybody would be making fun of the fedora-tipping mindset that probably is where the fucking trenchcoat came from and may have debated giving Cas -- sorry, “CASS” because “COOL” -- katanas. But sure. Way, way deeper and more intricate than the Jungian intertextual post modern piece that’s so tightly knit it’s making fandom unwittingly comment on themselves.

I thought people grew out of that shit when they were like 16 unless they were incels

(My spidey senses detected someone unironically preparing to inform me about stealing borrowing the imagery from Constantine on reflex, because you know, that’s some peak intertext right there.)

Dead ASS that writing logic is that motherfucker that wanders into your freeform RP server with Spawn knockoff miasma chainsaw arms under his leather trenchcoat shooting twin Deagles with a vague story of wanting to face his demon overlord father that’s written like a looney tunes villain, in the middle of you cowriting with your lit-savvy friends trying to make a fun fantasy adaptation rendering fascism and corporate america and then he gets upset when nobody wants him to shit lightning -- /fight me/.

SERIOUSLY FOLKS. WANNA ENJOY THE SHOW AGAIN? GET SOME PERSPECTIVE. LET GO OF FETISHIZING WEIRD WARPED MEMORIES AND LINES OF ARGUMENT INSIDE YOUR OWN HEADS ISTG IT'LL HELP.

The day I find an argument that makes season 7 legit good TV rather than, at very best, “fun junk TV I had a cool ride on”, that does NOT involve evoking arguments distinctly born out of petty shipping culture arguments and/or (generally the same) attaching their own shit with a stapler to MAKE it have some sort of meaning at the time it was airing (rather than later showrunners making it add up to something), I’ll eat my fucking arm.

𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴. Carver era had already gone through dramatic changes that deepend the scope of the show and even then, 15.09 Bobo’s The Trap held more ACTUAL commentary on this fandom than Thompson’s Fanfiction episode did as a supposed fandom-commentary episode much LESS 15.04 as an actual meta framed episode. Fanfiction was like 4 years behind and completely fucking unplugged, whereas the base of the show itself is more integrated now in these dynamics than any attempt at meta episodes back then were.

old days it took one goddamn episode of dreaming for people to 1. start talking about Freud and 2. pretend the whole everything after that was some Freudian masterpiece even when, if it were, it would have been an entire avalanche of dropped balls. But two seasons of direct citations and literal manifest avatar-bodies of Jungian psychology elements and it’s hard to pull more than a peep out of the fandom about it because they’re too busy yelling about tulpas or sirens from before most of the people around here hit puberty.

𝓕 𝓤 𝓒 𝓚

furthermore why does anyone that idolize season 7 for what they think fits their bill think season 15 is gonna end how they want when they’ve been taking the piss out of season 7 over and over and over and over again IN THE TEXT as being dumb as SHIT

𝕀ℕ 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕋𝔼𝕏𝕋

WHY SET YOURSELF UP FOR DISAPPOINTMENT

TO WIN TEMPORARY ARGUMENTS? THAT YOU’RE ACTUALLY LOSING FROM START TO FINISH?

actually you know what

rolling back to the whole “empty/subtextless stuff making people bust their ass” seems to be what you miss. Saying, “I miss empty, shallow, shitty writing” doesn’t really sound as good though so we change “what I like” into “this is talentless trash” it postures better, but it seems to be the people who have objectively fucking refused core tenets the show has evolved over the last 7 years, most explicitly the last 3-4, and absolutely refused to soak them in the form they deliver in. And they’re mad. Because it isn’t hollow. They can’t run around in fucking blank space and plug absolute horse shit into the voids and then posture like they’re supreme in this noncommital wasteland. Because everything’s built out and structured in and loud as fuck and people are debating the actual installed and even dogmatically cited work of philosophers driving the ideology of the show now and they can’t get away from it, and/or actually have to pay attention to the whole show and think about it all as a picture instead of the parts they want, so it’s “bad.”

I just sensed like 50 readers shoving their foot into that shoe. Good.

Jesus christ I’m pretty sure that’s what it is in hindsight after yelling all of this. These characters can’t be used as sock puppets anymore that people can win bullshit arguments unless they literally delete the entire principle of the modern show -- and this goes for MULTIPLE lanes really, each in their own way -- so now it’s “bad.” And that’s just not how this works.

[thedreamingscorpio]

Undulations

Chapter 2

Well I think it goes without saying but in case I wasn’t clear earlier:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Thank You, please lemme know your thoughts on my work!

Love Always!

Time had gone by in a whirlwind, with Goten finding some warm clothes for his company, making some tea and gathering the necessary tools and supplies. While the whole time the young woman had only exchanged common courtesies whenever Goten would bring her something, which they were done with in the first ten minutes of her arrival.

Despite the ruckus that he had created, the house was quiet, almost too quiet. 

Case in a nut shell, the last twenty minutes saw the three occupants of the house to, in Goten’s case grow increasingly curious and observant, the woman’s gaze to get lost in the depths of infinity, and for well, Cepheus to become more irritable with each passing minute.

Goten had finally found his cauterizer. It was kept in his store room since he hadn’t had to use it in quite sometime now, it was the one he used previously, and since getting a new one he kept it at home in case of an emergency. He didn’t think that he’ll be requiring it today, given the bored and irritated expression that marked his patient’s face. But that was the thing, the dog although one of his most frequent patients, still managed to throw him for a loop with his seemingly impenetrable expression, the same ‘the hell do you care ’ expression adorned his face, be it an ingrown nail or a gaping wound. 

It seemed as though if given the chance to converse akin to a human being, he’d list all the complaints in the world and manage to find a fault with even the most perfect of things.

Well in reality Goten himself never really believed in the concept that the word 'perfect' embodied, in his opinion nothing was completely flawless, it was just the mere coincidence, that if what one sought was what the other provided, the two pieces seemed to fit together, therefore creating the illusion of what people called 'perfect’. And of course,  he was familiar with the universal use of 'perfect’ and came to the conclusion, that there are certain things people perceive as desirable universally, like symmetry for one, and that’s okay, but to then announce that the person or the object is utterly flawless was a bit absurd in his opinion.

But then again, was it his need to rationalize everything, or his general dislike for the word, he didn’t know, perhaps he’d heard it too many times in his lifetime as a constant reminder to know exactly what he wasn’t, eh no point dwelling over things that bring a sour taste to your mouth…

Though that still lead him to think, that if people’s version of 'perfection’ was so hard to come by, almost everyone did settle for something less, like 'good’ or even 'great’ at times. 'Cause unlike 'perfection' , Goten knew for a fact that those things existed and that they weren’t half bad, in fact, despite the irony of his thought-process, those 'good’ or 'great’ may even be somebody’s version of 'perfect’!

So, why the hell did Cepheus, have that rotten expression on his face, no matter what hour of the day it might be! He really failed to understand how an baby animal could prove to be much more difficult to deal with than an adult human being. Weren’t animals supposed to be nicer?

 Every time he happened to meet him, it appeared as though he were mocking, challenging him to do something, anything to change the opinion his little underdeveloped mind had conjured up of him. Oh and how Goten hated it!

Moreover what really worried him was the state of the young woman currently sitting on his couch. Empty tea cup held in hands, as if it were a life-saver, determinedly staring straight ahead unblinking, it was a miracle how the wall didn’t have a hole burned through it. It was her reaction that had told Goten to be prepared for anything and everything, and he was glad to have found his cauterizer.

Now with all the necessary tasks out of the way, he went to the kitchen to fetch his cup of tea…only to realize it had gone cold. 

“Ah shit!" 

Now Goten wasn’t a person for whom cursing was a regular occurrence, also given the fact that he was in the presence of one of his patients, it was highly unprofessional of him. So, instinctively as soon as he realized he had cursed out loud, he immediately regretted it and his eyes darted towards the couch. But noticing that the house was still eerily quiet, and that his slip-up had gone unnoticed, his more pressing concern was to talk to the woman as soon as possible.

That’s how he found himself  in the kitchen reheating his long forgotten chamomile tea, while silently mulling over how strange the whole incident was! The woman’s features weren’t lost on him, the way her green eyes looked at him, flipped his stomach.

She reminded him of someone, someone he could never forget, the girl from his early days with his reputation as a womanizer, the only girl he had been silly and pretend-serious with, the only girl he could be anyone with, yet she still wouldn’t forget his name, the girl who had made him realize that although fun, that wasn’t the life he wanted, the girl who had seen him transition from a technical adult to behaving like an actual adult, the girl who’s heart he had broken, by telling her it wasn’t her, it was him…Valese.

Valese had brown eyes, with a tinge of green, not quite hazel, no, but not quite brown either, her chestnut hair cinched at her waist, making her seem incredibly gorgeous, her pale skin contrasting against her dark features, her plum lips always chewing a strawberry flavored gum, and the way she spoke his name, blinking her large eyes at him, always managed to melt him.

So, then why did he leave her you ask? 

Well, the answer was simple really, or complete bullshit depending on who you are, she was too easy. From the moment he’d met her she was googly-eyed, and was willing to put up with his every whim, without batting an eyelash. She acted as though star-struck, which although boosted his ego, did not make him feel good in the long run.

People, be it family, friends, passersby or even young kids seemed to adore them, and on one occasion Trunks told them that they were even compatible when it came to  their level of intellect, Valese had just laughed it off, yeah she was like that, but Goten seemed to take it a bit more seriously. Of course, it was to be taken light-heartedly, but it did make him question, was he her king and they the world’s laughing stock?

He knew that she was a bit ditzy he did, but that never bothered him, she was beside him in almost all he did, gave him the confidence to pursue his career as a vet, and was beside him through all his embarrassing phases while he figured himself out. The best thing about her she was always smiling, rain, shine or thunder, she kept her smile on and the only time he had ever seen her cry was when he ended his relationship with her, he had never seen her look so...broken, but he supposed it was for the best given that he was subjecting himself to an insane amount of study, and to be honest, he was afraid.

Afraid, that he may take her shine away, as ridiculous as it may sound to anyone else, he knows he was right in his decision.

So, when the brunette had shown up at his doorstep in the wee hours of the morning, with the most troublesome patient he had ever come across, he was feeling a lot of feelings, but above all he was confused. Why was this happening? Was it all a coincidence? And if not, why so many years later?

Now that his tea was hot enough to be consumed, he made his way towards the living room where the as of now unknown woman and Cepheus, sat looking just like they were, about twenty minutes earlier

He grabbed himself a chair from the dining table, not wanting to get comfortable on the couch just yet, and knowing Cepheus, ready to entertain him at a moments notice.

The scraping of the chair’s legs against the floor wood seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and she gave him the same frightened look as earlier in the morning.

She quickly got off the couch, and started exclaiming animatedly.

"Dr. Son, my apologies, I know this isn’t by any means the right time to have disturbed you, hell I did not even give you a call, or notify you of my arrival, but the thing is that it was an emergency…”

Noticing how she was panting and red-faced again, he decided to cut her off..

“Please, call me Goten. I’m off-duty and these aren’t my working hours..”

At this, the woman gave him an abashed look and hung her head low.

Noticing this he quickly amended..

“…not that I mind in the least, after all I am a doctor and if I’m not available to my patients when they need me, what good am I?”

At this, the woman, lifted her head so fast he was afraid she had snapped something vital, and gave him a disbelieving look, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears .

He held a calm composure and gave her a reassuring smile. Noticing this her features softened and a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Please take a seat, calm yourself and talk to me so that I’m capable of helping you.”

Slightly nodding her head, apparently still shaken, she sat down waking Cepheus, who was seemingly comfortable nestled into her arms resulting in him growling slightly.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to compose herself and looked up with twinkling eyes.

“Let me start by introducing myself, I’m Odette…”

[lampd-intheface]

Misunderstandings

warnings: none?, the vampire hunters are original male characters pairings: LAMP author’s note: here you go @kastrefeila ! i kind of took a little bit of creative liberty with the ask but it definitely hit what you wanted! hope you like it! taglist: @fandoms-winkitywonk (i’m missing some people who asked to be tagged but i couldn’t find who they were! if you wanna be added to the taglist, lemme kno in my inbox!)

When Virgil had started a new night class, he had been obviously very anxious about it. It happened every single semester, at the very beginning. Every class was so unfamiliar to him and he always feared other people judging him or thinking he was weird.

He feared other people’s rejection.

It didn’t help that he didn’t have anyone he knew in his BIO 201. He had expected Patton or maybe Roman but neither of them took the same professor at the same time slot so he was left to fend for himself.

Fortunately, it seemed, fate threw Virgil a bone because there were two people in that very class he dreaded that seemed friendly enough.

“Hi, my name is Curtis and this is my friend Evan.” One of them had introduced themselves to Virgil, handsome smiles on their faces as they sat on either side of him.

At first, Virgil just gave a meek nod and a small murmur of his name but they kept engaging with him. They were just so nice, so helpful and kind, that Virgil slowly felt more and more confident in front of them.

He was proud of himself for earning two new friends. Sure, technically, they were the ones that befriended him but, as he told Patton about his first day in BIO 201, he felt as if it didn’t matter. The three of them were now good friends either way.

That was until their fourth week in class.

Curtis had brought some sort of garlic bread poppers or something and Virgil was trained to cringe away from the smell of it. At this point, after living so long with vampires, it was just an instinct.

It wasn’t as if Virgil could have any, anyway. None of his vampire boyfriends cared for the smell and, since the smell of garlic clung onto everything it touched, Virgil gave Curtis a wide berth. It was obvious Virgil wanted nothing to do with the garlic.

For some reason, that made Evan act weird. The two especially acted weirder when Curtis offered some to Virgil and Virgil hastily shook his head. He explained it as not liking the taste of garlic but, in reality, he knew eating garlic would earn him a few hours of no kisses.

Apparently, the smell wasn’t the only thing about garlic that lingered.

Virgil pushed the suspicion aside, though. Only because he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why the two would ever be weird about Virgil not liking garlic.

In any case, after a while, the two stopped acting weird and Virgil almost forgot about the strange situation.

Virgil was reminded of it only a handful of days later when Evan had mentioned a stupid joke. Now that Virgil was more comfortable with them, he let himself relax as he hung out with them before class started.

Virgil always liked to be first in class and, surprisingly, so did Curtis and Evan.

When Virgil grinned at Evan’s joke, Curtis abruptly stopped laughing and Virgil, with all his anxieties and his paranoia, couldn’t help but quickly shut his lips.

“You have really sharp canines?” Curtis explained his sudden silence and Virgil felt like that sentence should’ve been said nonchalantly but, instead, it came off as something invasive. Virgil couldn’t identify the tone but he didn’t like it.

Still, he answered, “It’s always been like that since I was young.”

Which, of course, was true. Nobody could explain why Virgil lost his baby canines and they were, surprisingly, replaced by sharper ones. They weren’t as sharp as Logan’s or Roman’s or Patton’s but they were definitely considerably sharp.

Logan tried to explain it as genetics but Virgil just shrugged and claimed that he was happy that it at least fit in with his aesthetic.

“Weird.” Evan murmured and Virgil almost hadn’t heard him but Virgil did and the expression on Evan’s face was something strange.

It was like that moment before, when Curtis had bought garlic bread poppers. It was that tone all over again except, this time, it was in Evan’s expression. Still, Virgil couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

So, instead of sitting there, uncomfortable, he just let it slide and changed the subject. Curtis and Evan looked all too happy to oblige.

Then, the next odd moment was a long while later.

“So, how did the four of you meet anyway?” Curtis had asked suddenly when he, Evan, Virgil and Patton were hanging out in between classes.

A few days earlier, Virgil had introduced Curtis and Evan to his vampiric boyfriends (but, of course, he didn’t introduce them as vampires).

At first, Curtis and Evan were weirded out by the fact that Virgil had more than one boyfriend. Or, as Logan had explained it, that the four of them were dating each other. Still, they warmed up to the concept of polygamy pretty fast.

“Well, Logan was taking a lot of the same classes Virgil was taking.” Patton explained almost breezily, like the answer came to him as easily as anything else. “Then, Logan introduced Virgil to us and the rest is history.”

As Patton spoke, he looked to Virgil with such love and adoration in his eyes, his hand sneaking down so his fingers could intertwine with Virgil’s. It made Virgil’s face feel just a little bit hotter but he managed a nod as if to agree with Patton.

Curtis and Evan nodded almost sagely at that and Evan even hummed a little.

Then, the conversation hit a silent lull but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. When Curtis bit into his sandwich, Evan spoke up, breaking the silence “Are you sure the two of you aren’t hungry?”

Both Patton and Virgil nodded but Patton turned to Virgil with mirth in his expression “We feed you enough at home, right, honeybee?”

Virgil definitely reddened at that. He wasn’t so used hinting at his domestic home life.

Logan Roman and Patton did it easily enough. Still, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. Just the mention of Patton cooking for Virgil or Roman saying that Virgil left something in his room made the boy flustered.

It probably came with the new territory dating brought.

Virgil’s thoughts were brought back to the conversation and his embarrassment flushed out of him when Curtis suddenly started coughing.

Already, Virgil knew it was because Patton was being so lovey-dovey and he never really understood that other people could be unsettled by it. Certainly, even Virgil was hesitant about PDA. Perhaps Curtis was just one of those people who was always taken aback when it happened in front of him.

“You guys are really close, huh?” Evan looked from Patton to Virgil and then to their intertwined hands. Perhaps even Evan was a little skittish about PDA. Virgil couldn’t blame him.

Patton didn’t even hesitate before nodding and, at that, Curtis looked much more awkward than before “I thought the whole… polygamy, was it? I thought it was weird but… you guys really…”

Virgil followed Curtis’ gaze and his eyes landed on Patton and the way Patton’s polo and sweater had pulled down to reveal a patch of skin. There, the skin had been bruised and abused.

Virgil felt mortified. Patton, on the other hand, didn’t look at all disturbed when he caught on and adjusted his clothes “Yeah, Virgil can be a bit… passionate sometimes.”

“Patton.” The name left Virgil’s lips in a soft hiss but Patton didn’t apologise, just kissed Virgil’s cheek tenderly.

“I hadn’t taken you as a biter, Virge.” Evan tried to joke and Virgil only glared at the table. Still, there was a tone in Evan’s voice that stuck out to Virgil. A tone Virgil was confused by.

He pushed the thought away, reminding himself that perhaps it wasn’t just PDA. Curtis and Evan hadn’t mentioned anything about experiences with gay couples so, maybe, it was that too. Some people acted weird when it came to that.

Either way, despite the good explanation for Curtis’ odd behavior and for Evan’s sudden shiftiness, Virgil couldn’t help but think that something felt weird.

The fourth time Curtis and Evan acted strangely was in front of Roman this time.

Virgil was shuffling through his bag in between classes and, suddenly, a bottle of sunscreen had fallen out. It was some sort of high SPF sunscreen that he carried along with him in case any of his boyfriends had needed it.

Most of the time, they really didn’t. They were either in class or at home and, whenever they fancied a little date, it was always dinner at a nice restaurant or a late movie showing.

Still, Virgil was nothing if he wasn’t a worrier so he kept sunscreen and an umbrella with him at all times.

Curtis gave the bottle an odd pointed look “What are you carrying sunscreen around for? It’s like pitch dark outside.”

Roman laughed “Honestly, my love, I also have no idea why you carry that with you and I live with you.”

“Just in case.” Virgil grumbled, picking up the bottle and shoving it back into his bag. He still hadn’t found his stupid mouse and now he was the center of attention in his group.

“You know, Virgil never really likes the sun.” Roman told Curtis and Evan offhandedly. “We joke sometimes that his hatred of the sun is the reason he takes night classes.”

Suddenly, both of them looked much more alert than before and Evan even muttered a small ‘Oh, really?’ It put Virgil on edge and he felt like an animal on display at a zoo or, perhaps, a prey in front of a predator.

Roman seemed to sense this because he pulled Virgil close and pressed a kiss to his temple. “It matters not. Virgil exudes enough of his own light that he perhaps doesn’t need any of the sun’s.”

The obviously cheesy line embarrassed Virgil but it also helped him settle down some. Still, even with that, his nerves were a little on the edge.

These days, it felt like they always were when he was around Curtis and Evan. He didn’t like it, didn’t like how anxious he felt around two of his only friends in college. He liked Curtis and Evan, wanted to be friends with them.

Maybe that was why he found himself ignoring the red flags.

The next weird thing that happened was right before the semester ended. Finals were going to start soon and Virgil was stressed.

Curtis was the one to suggest a solution “Hey, I have this good luck charm I could give you?”

“No way. Why would I take your good luck charm?” Virgil quickly said no, pushing the idea completely off the table.

However, Curtis had insisted “C’mon, it’s fine. I’m 100% confident I’m going to pass my finals. The least I could do, as a good friend, is give you a little luck so you can be as confident too.”

As he said that, he pulled out a keychain. It seemed plain enough, just a little gothic cross. It was definitely a good fit for Virgil’s aesthetic. However, just as Virgil was about to take it to look at it closer, his hand hesitated.

“I-I can’t.” Virgil drew his hand back as he recognized the familiar silver gleam of it. Even if it wasn’t silver, even if it was just the anxiety in his head, he couldn’t risk bringing silver home.

Sure, he had silver things of his own; piercings, chokers, chains. Those were a different story, though. Those things were kept far and away from Logan and Roman and Patton.

A good luck charm would have to be kept near Virgil for it to work.

The good luck charm could easily fit in his back pocket where, sometimes, Roman liked to be cheesy and fit his hand in. It could also easily be hooked into his keyring, the same one Logan always borrowed. Or, just as easily, be slung around his neck, the same neck Patton liked to wrap his arms around.

The dilemma was obvious. Virgil couldn’t risk burning his boyfriends.

Curtis seemed especially offended and Virgil forced on a grin “It’s fine, I’ll probably be more confident if I just studied more.”

“Then, if you want to study more, let’s have a study session.” Curtis answered back almost bitingly, his tone kind but not naturally so, like he was forcing himself “You, me and Evan at our apartment?”

Not wanting to offend Curtis, Virgil hastily nodded, the pit of his stomach roiling with anxiety. Something didn’t feel right.

Virgil had such a bad feeling about his study session with Curtis and Evan that he desperately asked Evan (not Curtis because, for some weird reason, Curtis was acting strange around Virgil) if he could invite his boyfriends.

Evan hesitated for a second before agreeing.

Which is how Virgil found himself in the back seat of the car with Logan. Patton was happily driving and Roman was fiddling with the radio in the front passenger seat.

Virgil cleared his throat and Roman quickly turned the radio off before peering at Virgil through the rear-view mirror “Is something the matter, my chemically unbalanced romance?”

Virgil flushed at the stupid nickname but continued anyway “Uh, so I know you guys agreed to this study session pretty quickly but I gotta let you guys know the real reason I invited you.”

That earned him concerned looks from everyone but Patton. Even though Virgil couldn’t see Patton’s whole face, though, he could tell the kind vampire was concerned from the way he gripped at the steering wheel tighter.

There was a bit of silence before Patton broke it “Did they ‘bad touch’ you, honeybee?”

At first, Virgil didn’t understand but, when Patton continued on to say ‘Are you uncomfortable around them because--’, Virgil quickly interrupted with sharp shakes of his head and several ‘No’s.

“Then, what seems to be the problem?” Logan, eyebrows furrowed, turned to face Virgil a bit more despite the fact that the back of the car was a little cramped.

Virgil bit his lip before sighing “I don’t know. They’re my friends and they’re like really good friends but…”

“They’re acting strange?” Roman interjected and Virgil sat up a little straighter at that, eyes wide as if he was surprised that Roman understood exactly what Virgil meant.

When Patton and Logan’s attention shifted to Roman, the handsome vampire continued “Well, there was this one time they were very odd about Virgil and his bottle of sunscreen.”

Patton chuckled a little at the mention of the bottle but then he abruptly stopped “Wait, why?”

“I myself have no clue.” Roman shrugged “I tried to diffuse the obvious tension in the room but I had only succeeded some. They were very tense after that little moment.”

Logan hummed “There was also the cognitive distortion you had asked me to help you out with.”

Virgil nodded at that and Logan continued when Roman gave him a confused look “Well, apparently, Curtis had offered a ‘good luck charm’ to Virgil to help with his finals.”

“Though, why a good luck charm, I have no clue--” Logan sounded almost like he was about to enter another rant but, thankfully, stopped at Roman’s exasperated look “In any case, our starlight had come to me for comfort.”

“I assured him that, from what he told me, it seemed like he misunderstood.” Logan finished but, instead of looking satisfied that he delivered all of the facts, he looked worried and unsure.

Virgil nodded in agreement “I thought maybe Curtis was angry at me for not taking his good luck charm but it was silver and you guys know I can’t have a silver charm around me.”

“Logan tried to explain that maybe he was just disappointed or angry at himself that he couldn’t find a way to help me--” Virgil continued and his expression turned more troubled.

Logan butted in “You had told me that, even after he had offered to study with you, he still looked odd, correct?”

Virgil nodded again and Logan continued to look uncomfortable. It was the same look he got when he received a puzzle that really challenged him.

Patton made a small sound of surprise “There’s also that one time we had dinner in the cafeteria with them, right, honeybee?’

Virgil remembered that moment well “They were really uncomfortable but I think that’s just cus they weren’t used to our… relationship.”

“That’s what I thought too! Except that Evan kiddo kept staring at the hickeys you left on my neck.” Patton sounded almost disgruntled “It made me a lil’ uncomfortable if I’m completely honest with y'all.”

“How rude.” Roman muttered.

Patton nodded enthusiastically “Yeah! Evan even called Virgil a biter. It was really gross.”

“I didn’t want to say anything though since you seemed really excited about having them as your friends and, honestly, I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” Patton met Virgil’s eyes in the rear view mirror and that managed to tug a small smile onto Virgil’s lips.

Still, even with all of them pointing these moments out to Virgil, he couldn’t make any sense of it.

“They think you’re a vampire.”

Logan’s voice had been so soft that Virgil almost missed it but, when he processed the sentence in his brain, he almost wanted to laugh “What?”

Virgil had expected Roman to laugh too but, instead, the vampire nodded his head, his expression showing his sudden realization “Yes, that makes sense.”

“What?” At least Patton laughed too albeit nervously and the car jerked a little as Patton moved to maneuver it so they could pull up to the side of the road.

“I had mentioned that you hated sunlight and the two of them looked like they had expected a fact like that and that it upset them.” Roman moved so he faced both Logan and Virgil, his knees pulled up so that they rested on his seat.

Patton craned his neck back, face scrunched up as if confused. Virgil couldn’t help but feel the same way.

Logan continued explaining for Virgil “When you hadn’t accepted his good luck charm, he must’ve thought that you sensed the silver in it which is an ability that allows vampires to avoid silver.”

Even Patton seemed to jump on the bandwagon “They had called you a biter.”

Virgil flushed at the mention of that but, looking back at it now, it clicked “I told them I hate garlic… and they said I had sharp canines…”

“Now that’s just foolish.” Roman sighed as if tired of the stereotypes that people loved to perpetuate about vampires (which he was) “A vampire that shows his sharp teeth at any time other than to feed is no vampire at all.”

“Perhaps going to this study session isn’t the greatest idea.” Logan placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

Instead of leaning into the touch, Virgil let out a ragged sigh. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face into his hands “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Language.” Patton muttered but there was no power behind his words. Usually, he was much more forceful about it but he probably sensed that it wasn’t the right place for it.

Virgil let out a wet laugh before realizing that he was close to tears “I just… I thought… I thought they were my friends… but, apparently, they just got close to me to probably hunt me.”

“Fuck, I’m so stupid. I let vampire hunters get that close! What if they realized they were wrong and they targeted you guys?” Virgil continued to berate himself, his voice much more unstable as his eyes stung even more.

“We can’t be sure they’re hunters.” Patton tried to soothe Virgil.

Logan sighed “There’s no way they aren’t. They have shown animosity every single time you’ve acted in a way that is very stereotypically vampiric. There’s no way regular humans could even believe vampires exist let alone know all the signs there is to spot one.”

It was Roman’s turn to sigh “I’m sorry, my love, I know you were very happy about making friends of your own.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just glad that we realized this before we got there.” Virgil forced himself to calm down and he hurriedly wiped away the wetness at the corners of his eyes “Who knows what trap they probably put up.”

“How ‘bout we drive back home and put on a few movies? We can make it a date night, try to salvage the day, huh?” Patton suggested, voice still soft and calm.

Virgil slowly nodded and, eventually, with a couple of even breaths, he didn’t have to force himself to be calm anymore “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The next day, Virgil entered the classroom almost nervously.

He had texted Curtis and Evan that he couldn’t make it to the study session because Patton had gotten sick. Thankfully, Patton didn’t have classes that night so his excuse was a bit more believable.

When he sat down in between Curtis and Evan, the two gawked at him and Evan even let out a low whistle “I didn’t know you had so many piercings.”

Virgil chuckled nervously “Yeah, Logan got them for me for our anniversary. They’re sterling silver or whatever so they’ll never rust and the diamonds are real.”

The piercings he was talking about was, truthfully, gifted to him by Logan. There was two on each ear shaped like stars and the one that at the very bottom was shaped like the moon. They glimmered, even under the harsh fluorescent light.

The only lie was that it was their anniversary.

“Oh, anniversary, huh?” Curtis looked deep in thought and Evan looked relieved.

Virgil nodded hastily, also relieved but not for the same reason. He was just glad that they seemed to be buying it. If someone had told Virgil at the beginning of the semester that he would be sitting there that day, trying to convince his friends he wasn’t a vampire, he would’ve laughed.

“Yeah, Roman has this fancy Italian restaurant he wants to eat at too. Said the garlic bread was pretty good.” Virgil tried to sound as nonchalant as he could “You guys know I don’t like the stuff but I told him I’d give it a try for him.”

The two nodded, creepily in sync, before Curtis relaxed “Too bad Patton’s sick, huh?”

“Logan’s forcing him to stay home but you know how stubborn Pat is.” Virgil agreed and the weight of the world momentarily felt like it left his shoulders.

It made him slightly sick to know that two of his close friends would do whatever it took to kill the people Virgil loved the most but, if pretending to be their friend would help stop that, Virgil was willing to do anything

[comic-is-trying-to-write]

The Origin Of The Order [Bonus]

A schoolbell rings out.

The chime of dismissal immediately became overlapped with children’s shouts and exclamations as the signal vociferously clanged out, into the pretty-blue atmosphere. The polished entrances of the schoolhouse were rapidly swinging open, very rarely switching back into its resting, closed state because the students were more than eager to leave the schoolhouse and return back to their homes or carelessly engage in a more enjoyable activity, even if they knew that essentially, the exact alike day would be repeated the next sunrise. Despite that, the seconds were still thoroughly supplied with deafening calls and shouts of the students who were hastening down the several stairs onto the ground, the majority of children paying no mind to the concept of safety by disregarding the railing of the steps, however, that’s more of a nitpick. The slight zephyr enclosed its pretty winds, constantly whirling around the children, a gentle blanket of breeze. Every child was acting visibly rough and eager...well, almost all of them.

Whist all of this roughhousing and enthusiasm was happening, in the background, a more meek boy waited for a bit. He waited until the majority of people left. He waited until they were barely in-view. He waited until they forgot that he existed. He wasn’t really much of a people-person. He didn’t like to talk much. Once the rough crowd cleared up, only then did he begin to take as much as a step out of the schoolhouse, timid as could be. Keeping his eyes to his feet, hands grasped to the humerus portion of his arms, his schoolbooks loosely hugged to his chest, he carefully hopped from one step of the stairs to another, a careful action. He wasn’t really thinking as he made his way to the ground, nothing besides just getting to his home really mattered. He didn’t pay much attention to the environment around him. Fair enough. Everybody already went home. There was nothing to pay much attention to, in the first place. Besides, he was used to it. After all, this was the same routine that he followed every day. Granted, it was only the beginning of the school year. He was about to leave the school proximity. Everything was normal. That is, until an irregular and abrupt shout shifted the still atmosphere.

“HEY!”

Startled, the boy instinctively twisted his head around, a surprised action, only to find a kid, approximately the likewise age as him, blond hair, a longer purple scarf, swiftly strolling up to him, a calm and casual smile plastered onto his face, matching his tone in his voice. The fact that someone seemed to want to voluntarily talk to him, an unusual event, made him spin himself around, startled action. He recognized the kid. Sort of. Although he was more than accepting as to talk to somebody, the blonde was the first one to start a conversation. Well...”conversation...”

“You’re ‘Ivor,’ right?”

“Um...yes!” Ivor wasn’t really used to talking to people, so he was a bit nervous about what to say, his voice evident, “And you’re...” Ivor really had to think before being able to remember what his name was, “Kyle! Right?”

“That’s me,” Kyle confirmed, swifting to the front of Ivor--Ivor, not expecting that, he jerked a step backwards, “Where are your friends?” The blonde asked, stirring a bit closer to Ivor.

Ivor didn’t want to explain that he didn’t really have any, therefore he played a lie, “Oh...they’re somewhere else...”

“Oh, they’re somewhere else...” Kyle mocked before saying something as blunt as could be. This question fell onto Ivor like a million bricks. Like a tsunami just fell directly onto his head. Like someone just smacked him with a heavy book. Like something from a million feet in the air just collapsed onto him. Like an entire building just plummeted onto his head. Like he discovered that the entire school knew all of his secrets. Like he was just abandoned in a near-death situation, “Or do you just not have any?”

“W-what...?”

“Don’t be silly, Ivor...! Why wouldn’t anyone wanna be friends with someone as socially-awkward as you...? Why wouldn’t anyone like your little gay hairstyle...? Why would anyone hate how much of a leech you can be...? So tell me, Ivor...why do people hate someone as likeable as you...?”

The questions really surprised Ivor. C’mon, you try to think of a clever response to that, “I...I...I don’t know...”

“Oh? A bit of a liar?” Kyle laughed, “Well...lemme tell you something...” Ivor’s head momentarily felt like it was violently fractured against a stone barrier before it stung as if alcohol was thrown onto an open wound. It felt like it was smashed with a hammer and then infected. It felt like he was maimed and ultimately died a-week-and-a-half later from starvation. It felt like he was stabbed and left to bleed to his eventual death. It felt like he was hit by a truck and was knocked over a cliff. Ivor hadn’t been through much physical pain in his life. It was an overstatement. All of a sudden, Ivor realized a pressure at the lower part of his neck. Kyle’s hand was gripped against Ivor’s collar, other fist clenched as if he was about to punch him. What was Ivor pressed against though? The wall of the schoolhouse. Without even realizing, Ivor had been backing away in intimidation, ultimately backing to the wall of the school. Kyle raised his fist, 

“Lying people piss me off.”

- - -

“Hey!”

The unwanted pressure upon Ivor’s neck reduced slightly as the blonde quickly turned his head, a troubled expression and freehand flinched away in startlement. Busted. The voice that shouted out wasn’t recognizable to Ivor in the slightest. However, despite that, he knew that it sounded to have resembled the type of pitch belonging to another kid, around their ages...? Ivor didn't actually have a prolonged amount of time to think about that, however, for he somehow briskly slipped into a kneeling position, audibly coughing the unforeseen situation out of his lungs. He barely was able to understand that the clutch on his collar was fully released before the same voice that had saved him, reprimanded the blonde, that’s all Ivor distinguished because he didn’t even glance up to get a glimpse at who had saved him from what was presumably going to be, a fight;

“Leave him alone!”

“He did nothing wrong!”

“Get out of here before I report you!”

Kyle was evidently endeavouring to keep up the entire “tough-guy” impersonation, however, that didn’t exactly work because, oh god, the stranger had an aggressive, rather excessively hostile tone of voice. The kid who had recused Ivor didn’t even allow the brown-eyed to obtain as much as a word in the one-sided argument dialogue edge-wise. A few seconds after Ivor continued to finish hacking his lungs out, he looked up and saw the boy who had saved him. His appearance wasn’t familiar either. The blatant rebuking endured for a while, it almost felt as if the things that were said were repeated over and over again, echoing throughout. That or Ivor just couldn’t handle the general idea of shouted at. The argument lasted for a while. That is, until whoever bailed Ivor out ultimately screamed for Kyle to “just go home,” the blonde falling into a hushed state and tongue-tied in the surprise of being abruptly yelled at. After all, why the hell was he even in the area?

“Freak!”

Kyle stomped off after adamantly declaring that but not before aggressively shoving the boy--the boy catching himself an exasperated and exhausted sigh as soon as the blonde was out of the audible proximity. As previously mentioned, Ivor was remaining on the ground though he glanced upwards--Ivor himself didn’t really know why he, himself was remaining to be crouched on earth and dusty terrain. Maybe it was because he was simply endeavouring to catch his breath...maybe he was simply still in shock of the events that just occurred...maybe...maybe...A welcoming hand materialized in front of Ivor. Guess he was supposed to grab it. As Ivor shifts to his feet with the assistant of the stranger, both of their expressions soften from their previous scared and assertive personas.

The unfamiliar asked, “You okay?”

“Yes...” Ivor replies, “Thank you...”

“No problem...I plausibly was a bit extra, wasn’t I?” He asked in a laugh but that soon vanished, “I’ve just...” He swiftly brings a small few of papers out of his inventory, putting them to a position in front of his eyes, holding the documents with both hands, reading them, his expression troubling yet again, “Had some bad news.”

“O-Oh...” Ivor didn’t really know what to say...I mean, what if someone in his family had passed away? Ivor hushed his voice, “What is it?”

“Ah,” The nameless boy smiled in an indescribable way. They appeared like they were sad yet trying to make sure that Ivor wasn’t worried about him--polite. He casually tossed his writings back into his inventory, “Nothing really. My club at this school was just shut down, due to not having enough members.” 

“Oh, that’s terrible...”

“It’s alright,”  They closed their eyes, the same smile as they reassured that, gradually beginning to walk in a way that prompted Ivor to follow alongside him, “Uh...my name is ‘Soren,’ by the way,” He said with a more genuine smile.

“Oh!” The purple-eyed introduced slightly meekly, “I’m Ivor.”

“Ivor...?” Soren confirmed, “That’s...a nice name...”

- - -

And like that, the boys processed to saunter to distance from the schoolhouse without any interruptions, making it all the way back to their hometown neighbourhood of which they had turned out to share with one another, not knowing that fact beforehand of the aforementioned experience. I mean, they didn’t even acknowledge nor knew that each other had existed, previously. Quite a surprise. As they got to know each other, they turned out to be a bit comparable to, talking, smiling and laughing enough to be qualified to classify them as friends. It was fun. They actually hung-out with one another for the remaining duration of the day; they didn’t reckon that they could have any more of a fun experience. Of course, that was merely their initial, meeting performance. As the clock ticked on, in the long run, they became closer allies. They played more often. They became to have more of a casual relationship. They had a friendship. They rathered to stay nearby to one another whenever possible...because...well, neither of them had anything else to do. Fortunately, they had each other, at least. They always wanted to stay byside, physically or other. Of course, not all childhood friendships last to adulthood.

[imnevergonnagiveyouup]

04. Limit Break Study

Lets get technical here.

What is a limit break in the laws of 7 exactly? It’s something important to jot down and flesh out first before diving deeper into what I’m trying to flesh out in concerns to the subject of Cloud AND his limit break. The concept of a “power move” ability was first introduced in 6, but it wasn’t called limit break, it was regarded as a desperation attack, which is something a character triggered when they were on the brink of death. The concept stuck through to 7, but its conditions were different, the character didn’t exactly have to be dying to trigger their “power move(s)” they only had to fill their gauge all the way. A limit break, as says the name, is when a character breaks their limit, they go above and beyond that which is considered their max capacity to unleash powerful moves that can be very destructive, not only does it do that but it boosts stats for a minimum period of time if stored as well. Now that I have the technical aspect of it out of the way, lemme start with the lore part.

A certain person can go above and beyond their limits under certain conditions, which follow, but aren’t limited to:

desperation 

emotional outbreak

spiritual energy outbreak

consciously triggering the break

adrenaline rushes

The most common cause for a limit break however is an outbreak of emotions regardless if negative or positive. Limit breaks come in all forms and ways, but since I’m a Cloud blog I’m going to specifically signal his out. A limit break doesn’t just make the person unleash their most powerful moves fueled by their emotions or lack of grasp in them at that moment’s notice of the outbreak. A limit break manifests those emotions into auras, manifests those emotions by visibly showcasing them as the color of said person’s spiritual energy which rests within every single living thing in the universe of 7 (it’s how the lifestream takes them back when they die). Now what you can do/manage with that aura is completely dependent on how much control the one entering a limit break has on their break which usually is not a lot of control so their performance with it doesn’t usually last very long but over time one can definitely manage to find some middle ground with it. Initially, at surface level, Cloud’s limit breaks are pretty standard, they all get delivered and processed through his sword one way or another. Every single sort of attack you can think of with him, it’s always through his sword, except maybe meteorain which is a mix between the stored spiritual energy and magic.

Cloud not once has he allowed his aura to manifest around him, because as I said previously a limit break isn’t supposed to be within the bounds of control and if it is something you want to try to do it’s something that will take someone a good while to master, but it’s something Cloud has managed to show that he can do even if it’s just for a limited time; naturally it’ll only be within his containment for a bit before he has to release it or else there will be a backslash of some kind. It’s all stored energy finding a way to get out which is why, arguably, he’d only allow it to manifest through his sword in the past and not around him as it was displayed in his clash against Seph in AC. Which speaking of, regardless of my feelings for the movie and its lack of execution in more fields than one, one thing AC did do that I enjoyed thoroughly was its attention to detail. In Cloud’s case sometimes his limit breaks weren’t even noticeable or could have possibly gone missed unless someone pointed them out, because again he was going with having those occasions be manifested through his sword which is something he, at this point in time, can control well. His body won’t run a higher risk at consequences through it.

Each time he used it was limited in time, it was quick and fast, this also includes the time his limit break manifests around him. It isn’t something that will last forever because, again, it isn’t something he can control all the way. Limit breaking for Cloud, and just about anybody else, is releasing something that’s been pent up from within. Remember the conditions that can apply to a limit break? Well Cloud’s shown that he can have that happen in every single one and even do so at his will but for a while so the moment that he feels it coming he has to rush through it and make it count or it’d honestly have been done for nothing. Entering this status can tip the balance to his favor or against and most of the time its shown that it can go either way honestly. The most unsafe circumstance for Cloud to limit break is through rushes of adrenaline because though feeling energized at that moment it’ll all be done so blindly basically and an adrenaline rush will also have its negative effects after the rush, weakening the body, making him shaky, things of that like. I’m so proud of my boy, he shows his level of mastery in things very often, these little details concerning his limit breaks being one of them. Obviously not full control over it, but he’s definitely taken steps to show that he has more control over them and that he can even go as far as to evolving/shifting them as well. That’s another thing AC did that I really liked.

When fighting against Seph Cloud was able to make all of that energy of his (his aura is blue) go from around him and into his sword, trusting that all of that pent up energy will do what he wants it to do, which is a risky move especially against someone who’s got a God complex. However it pulls through and all of that energy splits the fusion sword into its parts which indicates that Cloud can transfer instruction and orders in that way without having to say it but through thought alone which is pretty interesting to me. With that energy his swords stay up in the air before he starts to unleash his final blows. Cloud does begin with something very similar to the Omnislash all on his own before he suddenly begins to multiply it in both intensity and numbers.

Cloud, at will makes his energy manifest around him again, and with it leaves behind copies of himself in certain stance/position seemingly having them ready to strike Seph with each critical part of the parts that make up his fusion sword. He’s leaving copies behind with the energy he initially had surround him and as he’s doing that he’s attacking at the same time and not at all in a slow fashion, but very fast, so quick that even Seph’s having a difficult time keeping up with him or keeping an eye on him at all. Cloud has the ability to make his limit breaks change to what they previously were last seen to be, not just for the sake of not being as predictable but it also shows his growth in ability and strength even if, to place it loosely, he isn’t the most stable of individuals so to show such control in one’s abilities is actually quite impressive. He’s a character who’s not much for giving himself credit with many things at that. Which, at least to me, makes the growth much sweeter to me.

Even with something that impressive and fearful under his belt it’s also something he has to be careful with because the more range in strength and the looser his grip on his own capacities becomes then the more welcoming he is to a loss of control in general.

[rorywinslow]

here i’m, once again... bringing you my second child that i immediately took up because self restraint isn’t in my vocabulary. never was lbr. btw if anybody ever feels like ranting about a tv show i watch all kinds of shit and like... come to me, my sweet children. BUT ENOUGH TALK NOW.. lemme introduce: aurora “rory” winslow. 

[ classified ] : subject ( 6003 ), more commonly known as ( aurora ‘rory’ winslow). the ( female ) bears a striking resemblance to ( lily collins ). given the power of ( hydrokinesis) and have ( moderate ) control over it. the now ( twentysix) year old seems to be ( unsupportive ) of the experiment’s renewal. subject will be assessed again in seven days for any changes in how ( she ) has progressed. ( daisy / she/her / 20 / gmt ) 

up to the age of 8 aurora kathleen winslow lived the perfect life, the life any little girl could only dream of. she had a mom and a dad who both loved her more than anything and would do anything for her, they had money and they took their time to spend it with their daughter.

the fact that rory’s father was a senator and her mother a highly successful lawyer didn’t stop them from taking time out of work for their “princess”, as they’d liked calling her. she was the child they never thought they were going to be able to have, their miracle. while their lifes had always been semi public she still grew up very sheltered, her parents trying to give her the life both of them had dreamed of having. 

the only downside to all the love was the pressure. sure, they did mean very well and rory knew that but she was also very aware that greatness was expected of her. mediocracy was for the others, for people who didn’t have every possible option in life, who didn’t have all the doors held open for them.  

things changed when the discussion about the experiments taking place started. both of her parents agreed they weren’t going to give their daughter away to the government, even though her own father was instructed to advertise the measures. the longer things were going on the higher the pressure got on their family, the eyes of every parent who considered taking the step laying on her own parents. if they didn’t trust the government to take care of their beloved daughter, why should they? 

her father was too scared to actually risk rory being taken away but he couldn’t just keep her away from it all any longer anymore either. so he arranged something with one of the scientists who were going to conduct the tests. they were supposed to make sure that rory would fail, that she would be declared unfitting for the cause. there was no reason to leave things up to fate when you could just as well take things into your own hands. so one day she was brought to one of the tests and something went terribly wrong when instead of being declared a miss her test results actually showed her to be highly compatible. in lights of the test results her parents weren’t able to back out anymore, things had already gone public and it was too late now. Rory was taken to the facillities.

even before she actually got there rory knew she was going to hate it. she was going to hate any place that wasn’t her home, any place that was that far away from the loving embrace of her parents. she knew they hadn’t wanted to let her go, knew that even though he said otherwise publicly her father didn’t trust whatever was going on here. she wasn’t going to make this easy on the people who took her, she wouldn’t play nice with the other kids or do her best to develop her abilities to full extension. 

the first time her powers really showed she was suprised. for some reason she had expected something devastating, nothing as beautiful as this. forming water with the pure force of her mind, telling it exactly where to go, it was beautiful. she always held back during training though, not willing to support the organization by really learning how to master her skills. they were beautiful and they were all her’s, nothing for them to take away from her. 

the other kids hated rory since pretty early on but she didn’t mind, honestly she encouraged it. walking through the halls, head held high and and her eyebrows always raised in disdain, making it clear that she was better than them, that she was above them. not that she really believed that but she was not going to make herself feel at home here, with all these brainwashed children whose parents didn’t even love them enough to keep them save. not like her parents, her parents who actually did everything in their power to try and keep her from harm. her parents who were out there, probably trying to find a way to get her back. and while they were working on the outside she would be working from the institude.

most of the time you would have been able to catch rory in the library. books were her only friends for quite a long time and learning was never a mistake. knowledge was power, she was more than aware of that, especially at a place like this. whenever nobody was watching she’d train to use her powers, making tiny animals appear out of water, making them swirling around in the air. it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 

when rory got 18 she went out of the institute for the first time after ten years. she couldn’t believe they would let her but she was free, if only for a short period of time. the temptation to just run for the hills and hope she’d be able to get away was quite present, however she knew that couldn’t be the way to got, it couldn’t be that easy. so that night she obediently returned to her bad in the institute and while she was falling asleep she tried to come up with a plan. she was going to need to find out more about the experiments and she’d somehow need to contact her parents. surely they’d be able to help. 

the reason that aurora never got to expert label when it comes to her powers is that she deliberately holds back during training and while she does train on her own it’s not as effective as what the institute would offer. however the brunette is too careful, she won’t end up being a weapon. 

character wise she’s a bit of a difficult person as in she puts up a facade, has been putting it up for nearly 20 years now so it’s one that has long since become part of her. to the outside she always seems calm and composed, poise seeping from every movement, chin held high and shoulders drawn back, always perfectly dressed. rory doesn’t do friends, if you talk to her she’d be cold and distanced. she doesn’t trust anybody in the institute and she’s not about to break those rules she made herself. while she therefore mostly just seems loike the ice queen in person and people often call her “princess” behind her back she does have a temper. it rarely shows but if it does it’s impressive. 

inside she’s honestly just lonely, i think. she has been holding on to the memory of her family for so long, with all of her strength, however the voices and faces of her parents had started fading long ago and everything that was left of them for her to hold on to was a vague concept. she however still strongly believes that this concept is worth everything, that it’s the only thing she wants and that she’d do anything to attain it. not letting anybody close is a difficult thing for a little girl to do but it got much easier when she got older and now she wouldn’t even know how to do it anymore.  

so yeah that is about everything i have for now and honestly it’s already long enough, rip. hmu or like this and i will hit you up!! <3 

[write-this-way-please]

We Got Married: Again

We Got Married: Again [Sometimes new opportunities were in the form of old lovers │Simon D]

Initially when your company had recommended you go on We Got Married you were wary. It sounded like way too much of an investment and commitment, but the more you thought about it you welcomed it. And your manager did quite the good job convincing you that this was good for your image.

Your whole image was going through a revamp. You recently left your old company and this was your big chance to debut as a solo singer. To give the industry a taste of who you really were and not the concept your previous company had assigned. That sharp tongue, tough girl was too much maintenance to keep up with. All of your moves, and words were almost too calculated and precise. And that just wasn’t who you were.

You loved your idol days but this was finally something you were doing for you.

And the idea of meeting someone that show producers thought were compatible was pretty exciting.

You sat anxiously as the producers and writers interviewed you for the show. “When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

Giggling you mulled it over. “It would have been about six years ago?”

“Really? You didn’t date at all?”

“There was never any time” you looked down. “We prompted a lot as a group and even after our dating ban, I focused on my solo career.”

“At what age do you want to get married?”

“In the next few years. Before I’m thirty, for sure.”

“Ah you have plenty of time.” she laughed. “What’s your ideal type?”

“I guess I like someone older. Someone who can take care of me well and whose very protective.”

“Ah, you like the manly type?”

“Yes~” you chimed. “A strong family man.”

“Are you excited to be married?”

“Yes and nervous” you clasped your hands together. “But it’s a good nervous.” 

“And lastly, can we have a message for your future husband?” 

You laughed running your hand through your hair and looking into the camera. “Please take care of me well, let’s do our best and I’m looking forward to meeting you~” you made a heart at the camera.

There was just one thing in the back of your mind that always found its way to the forefront whenever you thought of marriage. It was hard to ignore when you’d been married before. It wasn’t public and had only lasted a few months but you’d gotten married right before you joined a company.

It was one of those, you were young and in love. Still doe eyed and hopeful that love could prevail through all problems in a relationship. But six months ended that little delusion of yours and after that, you applied yourself to being a better person and focusing on our career. All that hard work and dedication paid off, and you loved the place you were in. But all those years focusing on yourself you ended up missing out on a lot of love connections.

Even though this show was simply a program with a mock marriage the idea of making a true connection with someone or even walking away with a friend was something to look forward to.

After your interview had aired for the show, there’d been some speculations and rumors as to who your partner was, most of them were leaning toward actors or athletes. But the producers were very tight lipped when it came to that sort of thing.

Meanwhile across town your husband to be was wrapping up his interview at his studio. “You really doing this?” Jay chuckled at his Hyung.

“Why not? We Got Married sounds fun?” at first he mentioned it as a joke, but the more he thought about it, the more fun it sounded like. That and getting away from AOMG for a few weeks was more than a little refreshing. He came to the conclusion that marriage wasn’t for him, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to play house.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure it does.” Jay grinned “A getaway and shaken up with some idol. Don’t cause too many scandals.”

Back in his Supreme Team days, Kiseok found himself on more variety shows, but ever since he joined AOMG there was never the pressure to do so. Which all and all made it even more fun to do since it was his choice.

The big day finally arrived. Your car dropped you off in front of the cafe as PD-nim handed you a red envelope. You bowed greeting the crew and looked at the cafe. “Is he inside?” you whispered. “Ah” you grinned covering your bright smile. “What do I do? Do I go inside?” you placed your hand over your racing heart.

After a long pause, PD-Nim laughed. “Go inside” she whispered.

“Huh? Now?” you blinked anxiously.

“Yes, he’s waiting.” she shooed you inside seeing that you weren’t going to take the first step on your own.

“Ah! PD-Nim, ok ok I’m going” The cafe was completely empty other than one patron with a bouquet of roses. You smiled, to yourself taking a deep breath. You hadn’t been this nervous since debut but you made it this far. “Ok. I can do this. I can do this” you gave yourself a small pep talk before walking inside further. Your husband to be standing immediately to greet you.

Bowing you greeted him nervously. Introducing yourself while keeping our head down just from sheer nerves. Hearing your name being called in such a familiar voice almost made you drop your present. “Kiseok…?” you looked up, your eyes meeting his. It was the first time that you’d physically seen him in over six years. Then again you made it your goal in life to avoid him. The last time you were with him you were in the presence of a divorce lawyer.

He whispered your name softly in that way that still made your heart flutter.

It took you a moment to fully recover and reach out to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“N-Nice to meet you too.” he cleared his throat and gestured toward the seat. The public had no idea of his previous marriage. It was in a different part of his life, before Supreme Team’s fame really took off. And it was right before his public relationship with Lady Jane.

You were his past.

You were just someone that he mentored to make some extra cash. But all that time together naturally developed into something more. Something more tangible and ideal. He used to be such a romantic and you were blinded by love. It was a time of young love and mistakes.

You sat uncomfortably across from him. Your bubbly mood instantly soured. It was going to be a long six week.

“I brought you cheesecake cupcakes” he pushed the box toward you.

“Thank you.” There was a small pang in your heart as you stared at the small decorative box. Part of you hated that he brought his new wife your favorite dessert and in some strange twist of fate it still managed to make it to you.

Normally PD-nim remained quiet and just observed the newly weds, not wanting to interrupt the natural flow of the show but never in her history of working had she seen two more uncomfortable people. “Introduce yourselves.” she encouraged.

But there was really no point. You knew everything about Kiseok. “So….how old are you?”  you fiddled with your thumbs at the redundant question.

“32” he grinned, humoring your question before leaning closer. “So I’m an Opp-”

“Ahjusshi” you smirked seeing the small twitch in his brow. You knew just how much his age got to him.

“Y-Yah! Ahjusshi? I’m not that much older than you!”

You bowed formally. “I’m sorry is Grandpa better?”

“You little…” he took a deep breath, holding back his satoori. “Is that for me?” he looked at the sleek bag beside you.

You pouted and nodded, politely handing it to him. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that you didn’t spend hours going through every specialty store in Gangnam, looking for the perfect pair of cufflinks. Shopping for someone you’ve never met was quite the feat but it was pretty satisfying when you found something.

He opened the package and faltered seeing how expensive the gift looked. “Wow...These are nice… Thank you…”

Mumbling a stiff you’re welcome, you looked away from him. It wasn’t until PD-nim gently encouraged you to go on a date did you leave the cafe.

Walking outside, you instantly took the driver's seat to the car that the producers set up, knowing how bad Kiseok’s eyesight was. You even garnered some attention from the staff. “I-um...saw on a variety show that your vision was bad, so I’ll just drive” you laughed, getting into the car. Hopefully, that was enough to cover your tracks and make sure no one was suspicious of any previous relationship with Kiseok.

The car ride was just as awkward knowing that the cameras were constantly filming and you two had to fake social niceties as if you were a new couple getting to know one another. It was so hard asking questions that you knew that answers to. Not only did you know what he was going to say, you knew how he was going to say it. Some things were like muscle memory.

It almost pained you at how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of being around him.

This was going to be a very long few weeks…

END

I also started those over a year ago >.< honestly I finished writing it a year ago too lol I just never got around to editing and it got buried under drafts. It was the making of a new series but I’m not sure how you guys were going to perceive it. Sooooo if you like and would like to read more lemme know~

[devilraised-blog]

          HELLO, HELLO, HELLO   !      i’m ale and i’m casually just dead inside FLKDSF like, i have been sitting here watching hemlock grove for two days now  ( don’t @ me for his last name i was inspired )  while eating kit kats, which might as well get this intro done while i do it   !    so let’s get this show on the road then, lemme introduce you to lucian godfrey, a high class piece of shit.    if you wanna plot, just hit that lil heart button and i’ll come to you or you’re welcome to come to me   !

☾ —— have you met lucian godfrey, the twenty-seven year old cismale that looks a lot like dominic sherwood? he has been in the syndicate as a robber for three years now and is known around as the crimson, because he is debonair & nonchalant, as well as bellicose & morbid. not just a gang banger, zero is also a mechanic.

information.

lucian grew up in a very interesting situation. his mother, a wonderful woman full of love that wished to raise her son to be the same, had married a man who would bring nothing but destruction to her life. he had been wonderful to her at the beginning, giving her a son she had always wanted and a family she had never had. never been given love in her life, she chased it and held onto it, even if it wasn’t good for her. she believed him to be good, with all of her heart she believed it.

in the end of it, he wasn’t and it still didn’t deter her away from him. his mother had soon realized after the birth of her son that her now husband was a monster. she realized it, but had never done anything about it. he would come back and tell her he loved her, tell their son he loved him. as time went on, she wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. wanting to raise her son to be compassionate and kind, full of love--- the exact opposite of what her husband was and it started out that way.

lucian was a happy child, full of light and love, dichromatic hues shining brightly. it made his mother’s chest fill with hope that her son wouldn’t turn out like his father. she shielded him from the abuse, let herself take all the hits, let herself take his rage away from him. even if all his rage was directed at the young boy, wanting to know why he wasn’t strong, why he was so weak. that wasn’t his son, his line would be better than that.

the only way to make sure that happened, was to remove his mother from the equation and that’s what he did. killed her in cold blood thinking he would get away from it, he didn’t and he was sentenced to life in prison. but, lucian had gotten the short end of the stick. being alone in the world without his parents, his father being what he hated most, vowing he would never turn into him. vowing that he would make sure his mother would be remembered.

nothing ever turns out at is seems though. after her death and his sentencing, lucian was sent to live with his grandmother. but, the boy that was sent to live there wasn’t the boy who had left his childhood home. he was filled with rage and hatred towards his father and guilt when it came to his mother. the rage had overtaken him though, flooding his body until it was all he could think about. vowing that he wouldn’t be his father, that he wouldn’t be a monster. but rage overtakes someone, especially in lucian’s case.

following in his footsteps without even understanding it, at the age of fourteen, lucian had joined his first gang. instantly liking the unity it gave him to others, feeling like he finally had a family again. he was raised up from then on out to be cruel, taught how to hold a gun, how to fire, how to kill. the years after was where he earned his codename, ZERO. giving no victim time to say their goodbyes, lucian didn’t hesitate when it came to pulling a trigger. what he didn’t understand, so focused on his negative emotions, was that he was becoming his father.

the one thing he never wanted and finally, when he turned eighteen, he was busted. thrown into jail for being an accomplice to murder ( which one honestly ) and gang banging. lucian had spent five and a half years in prison, getting let out when he was twenty-three for good behavior. even if his behavior wasn’t anything close to being good, but he had connections on the outside and inside. one being his father, a fact he didn’t know.

a little while after he got out of prison, he ended up joining the syndicate as a robber because of his very trigger happy finger, not afraid to get his hands dirty as he had been doing for a long time. while being in the gang, he also works as a mechanic. enjoys working with his hands, even if he’s fantastic from far away, he’s also very nimble with his fingers.

along with that, it was recently that he had received a letter from his father, telling him how proud he is to see him in the gang life, that he was following in his footsteps and that has really shaken lucian. memories flooding back and bringing out a very ruthless side of him because he never wanted to be his father and now here he is.

SMALL TIDBITS   !    he doesn’t love easily, especially now, afraid he’ll love someone to death like his father. he drinks and smokes a ton. loves the concept of death ? finds it very fascinating. he’s bisexual, loves any type of fucking with whoever is willing. is very good with a gun and essentially killing people. likes chocolate a lot, a good way to bribe him. he can be very physically affectionate when the time is right. most likely ! has a daddy kink don’t @ me !

personality.

lucian is not the best person in the whole world. before, what used to be a sweet, caring, kindhearted boy just looking for a little brightness in his life was completely taken over by this cruel, calculating, and cold person. he’s someone who get angry and real angry, reddening face with fists clenched and jaw tight angry. when he’s angry, there’s nothing that can stand in his way, he’ll tear you down bit by bit until he has what he wants. it makes him an excellent interrogator. he’s also known, despite his anger to be very calm. he’s not someone who’s necessarily fazed by anything, but if he doesn’t like something he’s going to be blunt about it. lucian is a charmer, he’ll use his words and suaveness to get things and manipulate people. he can be quite sarcastic, likes to joke more than anything unless you make him mad, get under people’s skin. and deep down, the bright boy is still there, but he’s definitely not coming out any time soon, he has a heart, but he hates showing it even if that would make him unlike his father--- he can’t escape him.

connections.

i need an ex for him tbh ? he’s not so into love, so this person would have meant a great deal to him.

def . .. ... want a cellmate from his time in prison. just a really good bond that the two have and they’ve just always had each other’s backs. 

a best friend tbh ? bc that would be adorable and fantastic.

a ride or die ? partner in crime type sort of thing ? which can be taken quite literally. someone who sticks with his ass and the two either ride together or they die together.

any kind of hook-up, fling, fwb ? i’m def a sucker for these types of plots and since lucian doesn’t care much for relationships deeper than sex, he’d probs have a lot of these.

a cuddle buddy bc i’m a fucking sucker for sweet plots like this ? just cuddly and affectionate.

maybe a confidant of some kind ? someone that lucian can oddly trust and he doesn’t have a problem with it ? it can totally be some secret thing that no one knows they’re that close.

old friends from the old gang ? or even from school when they were younger. and it can kinda be an awkward thing or like i can’t believe we both ended up in this kinda thing.

hate fucks or enemies with benefits ? the two can’t fucking stand looking at each other unless it’s in the bedroom. and as much as they can’t stand each other, they can’t ignore the attraction.

a love/hate . . . like i’m so weak for these types of connections. bc they end up getting into so many arguments, but then get protective like i can only be mean to them wtf ?

good influence and a bad influence, the former being someone being one on lucian and the latter would be lucian influencing them to let that darker side out.

smth based off THIS ? where like this person tries to connect with lucian .. .but it doesn’t work and they keep doing their best and he keeps ignoring them

gIVE ME ANY NEGATIVE PLOT like rivals or enemies or annoyances or frenemies ? just to add some angst bc every char needs angst. plus .. . these are my fav types of plots tbh.

also anY OTHER PLOT U WANT like maybe will they/won’t they, a family connection somehow ? or an unrequited crush of some kind ? or someone who comes into his shop regularly bc their car is shit ?