#being protective of my mom. who is demanding and mean and selfish.

[bonefall]

how is bramblepaw’s characterization since it is shown that bramblestar is an actively bad person instead of “oh he’s a good guy uwu” while he is 100% fine with letting kits die for some land

Something I want to say with my rewrite, but I'm not sure how, is that power is an amplifying sort of force. Someone who's a pretty... normal sort of bad can do a LOT more harm without even meaning to, when power is added to the mix.

But I'm not sure how to show that, in the story itself.

Bramblepaw

Anyway, Bramblepaw is just a kid. He's a kid and Darkstripe sneaks him out to meet his dad, only to find out his dad's a horrible murderer. He sees violent death at a young age; Runningwind, then his older brother Swiftpaw.

Firestar takes him as an apprentice, only for Bramble to find out he did it because he's always been suspicious of him. That nice man he met, Leader of ShadowClan, the one who smiled and looked at you with such love, he's the reason why you don't see Mr. Runningwind anymore. That's why Cousin Cinderpelt's leg hurts in bad weather. That's why the whole Clan looks at you like that.

All the while, Tigerstar is demanding his children, since ThunderClan couldn't protect his oldest. Bramblepaw has only ever known fear and distrust from a very young age.

I imagine that the real turning point of his life was watching Tawnypaw leave. He had his cousins, he had his mom, but something about watching her vanish into the night... he felt so alone. He felt like he lost something that he will never get back.

Suffering doesn't make you a better person, it just hurts. Every horrible thing that Bramble does is in some desperate attempt to prevent people from leaving him, or to not "lose" something. Respect, Clanmates, Lovers...

Bramblestar

So, power. He never should have had it.

As a regular warrior the sort of damage he can do is limited. Think to the time in TNP when Squirrelflight broke up with him and he acted like a dick to her for several chapters. It was shitty, but AT MOST he could just embarrass her in front of her mom and yell at her a lot.

Tweak the writing a bit so that the Clan isn't completely oblivious to this being an abusive dynamic, and Squilf could have found a lot of support here.

But add power to the mix, and Bramble's mind games suddenly encompass the entire Clan. In Canon Squirrelflight's Hope, you can SEE the cycle of abuse taking place, the same way you see it in TNP. But this time, Squilf disobeying her husband also means disobeying the Clan Leader. Every political action she takes is also an action that affects her romantic life.

So it's not necessarily that Bramblestar is best described as, 'ok with letting the kits die for some land.' It's not about the land. It's about controlling Squirrelflight. It's about proving to himself that she won't make him lose face, that she won't make him lose control of his clan, and also, that no matter WHAT he does or decides, that he won't lose her as well.

EVERYTHING gets lost in pursuit of that goal. Everything. The personhood of the sisters, the kits, the well being of the Clan at large.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" He shouts, when Squirrelflight is trying to save the life of a dying cat by preventing him from intimidating a medic. He's only thinking about himself.

That's it. That's the motivation. He's not a Machiavellian psychopath who thinks baby-eating is cool. It's carelessness. It's selfishness. It's control.

Everything gets lost in the pursuit of what he wants. He's just a mediocre manchild who failed upwards, and an incompetent leader looks an awful lot like a malicious one.

Rewrite

He actually doesn't become deputy in Bonefall TNP. It's a sudden choice that Firestar makes after Brackenfur shows up dead, and shortly after that Bramblestar is thrust into power.

I think his best moment in my rewrite is right after he fights Hawkfrost to save Firestar, when he agrees that he needs to step down, and serves as a faithful warrior for a while.

That's the moment in his life when he does the most introspection, and is probably the healthiest and happiest version of Bramble that he will ever be. It's short-lived, as it all comes crashing down by the end of Po3... but for a few years, he was just Brambleclaw, Normal Guy.

Idk. I think about him a lot. They should invent cat therapy and study his fucked up little kitty brain.

#Brambleclaw #Warrior Cats Analysis #Bonefall Rewrite #Bonefall Bramble is not very different from the way I perceive Canon Bramble #Abuse #Abusive Relationship #Bonefall TNP #Bonefall Po3 #Squirrelflight's Horror #Bramble is one of those anti-blorbo types to me. I think about him a lot (derogatory) #Scrinkly I guess

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (10)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

SERIES: CHAPTER 9  | CHAPTER 11

Note: I just wanna dedicate this chapter to @jooniebugg coz your feedback in Your Eyes Tell (09) is <333 and it inspired me to write chapter 10! some lines in this update is my response to your comment heheh :*

You were not in trouble, but Jeongguk was.

"Guk," Jimin let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Slow down, okay? I can't understand what you're saying."

But Jeongguk couldn't do it. He was sobbing uncontrollably that Jimin literally had to tell him to breathe.

Jeongguk tried to follow the instruction of his best friend's boyfriend. Breathe. It should be easy, right? He only needed to stop thinking about you in able to breathe properly.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to get you out of his mind.

"You good?"

Your soulmate nodded even though Jimin couldn't see his face. They're currently talking over the phone. Jimin called him after finding out what happened during the trial.

It was all over the news. Countless of articles were published online. Most of them were unreliable and full of speculations.

Jimin gave up after reading one sentence. He knew he had to call you to know the truth—or at least the fragments of truth. Jimin wasn't really interested in the case; he was only interested to know what was up with you.

Were you alright?

Jimin found some of your decisions in life questionable, yet he didn't say anything. He remained tight-lipped when you told him about your entangled fate not only with Jeongguk, but also with your assistant and client.

Just like your soulmate, Jimin could not understand why you were trying to defend Kim Seokjin. Their reason was different though. Jeongguk's thoughts were selfish. Jimin, on the contrary, was plain curious.

Why were you so invested in this case?

Was it because of your stubborn nature? Jimin knew that once you set your mind into something, you wouldn't stop until you won.

Jimin only learned to accept your competitive side when he realized that you were raised this way.

You didn't choose to be like this. You were actually forced to be like this. This being the case, Jimin was only able to release an exhausted breath after Jeongguk told him what happened in the courtroom.

Some might say that you pushed too hard, but this didn't give Mrs. Kim the right to hurt you.

"It's my fault, hyung. I wasn't there to protect her." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

It had been an hour since you locked yourself in your room and Jeongguk wasn't sure whether to comfort you or to just leave you alone.

It felt like you preferred the latter option. Jimin told your soulmate that you weren't answering your phone, an obvious indication that you didn't want to talk to anyone. This was also the reason why Jimin decided to just call Jeongguk to know if you were okay.

You weren't.

It was weird, but Jeongguk was positive he could feel your heart breaking. If this was any other day, he was sure that he would simply ignore this, but something definitely changed. Jeongguk didn't know why, but he had this intense urge to embrace you—to make you feel better.

"But you can protect her now, Guk. It will be hard, but please..." Jimin begged your soulmate. He didn't want to burden Jeongguk; however, the latter was the only person who could comfort you right now.

As much as Jimin wanted to embrace you, he couldn't. He was in Busan, his hometown, at the moment. Jimin was processing some important documents because he's planning to ask Taehyung to marry him.

"W-What can I do to make her feel better?" Jeongguk stammered. He's nervous, but he's decided. He couldn't let you go through this alone. It hadn't even been a day, yet he already missed your goofy side.

"You're a smart boy, Jeon. You'll figure out what she wants."

What do you want?

Jeongguk's heart was recoiling once again. He realized that he never knew what you wanted since you were always catering what others wanted.

You were a people pleaser.

"But if nothing works, just call her parents." This was Jimin's last reminder before ending the call.

Your soulmate didn't understand why Jimin thought it would be a good idea to call your parents. Jeongguk was pretty sure he could bring the smile back on your face without the help of anyone. He just needed to make sure you were not in some kind trouble first.

Jeongguk opened your laptop to send an email to your boss and other clients, telling them that you were taking a break from work.

Jeongguk was tired by the end of the week. Jimin was right. It was difficult to help you get back on your feet, mainly because you weren't trying.

You stayed in bed most of the time, you barely touched your food, and he felt like you didn't even want to live.

You looked so unmotivated that in the end, Jeongguk decided to just message your parents and invite them to your apartment—this was the reason why he was in trouble.

"You can't just do this without consulting me, Jeongguk."

His scowl deepened when you called him using his given name. You only did this when you were serious or mad. In this case, he figured out that you were mad—or at least he thought you were mad. Your voice was rough, similar to the tone you used when you were inside the courtroom.

Jeongguk was scared.

He was scared to upset you again.

"But Jimin-hyung told me to call your parents!" He reasoned out. Blaming your best friend was the only way Jeongguk could think of so that he could finally escape your piercing glare.

It worked.

Your expression softened a bit, though this didn't mean that he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Jeongguk," this time your voice sounded tired.

"Y-Yes?" He pretended like he was busy sweeping the floor. Everything needed to be perfect because your parents would be here shortly.

You already accepted your tragic fate. It was decided. You were going to meet your mother and father today.

Damn it.

"Why did you block Hoseok's number?"

You saw how Jeongguk froze after hearing your question. No doubt, he was guilty.

"I-I didn't do it!" He lied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're not a good liar..." Amusement was now dancing in your voice.

Jeongguk had been using your phone to respond to your prospective clients. These people just didn't know how to stop. They kept texting your personal number even though Jeongguk told them that you were on a leave.

Your phone didn't have a passcode that's why he was able to freely access it.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful. He saved your career. If he didn't send a notice of leave to your boss, you were sure you're gonna get fired.

"I'm not lying!" His lips protruded into a sulky pout. "I didn't send those messages!"

"Huh." You arched your brow. "But I only asked why you blocked Hoseok. I didn't say you texted him using my number."

Jeongguk's eyes went wide.

He was instantly busted.

"H-He was spamming you with useless messages!"

"I don't think so," you shook your head as you read the conversation. His excuse just kept on getting worse.

 "Wow. You're cold," you could imagine Hoseok's disbelief upon seeing the thumbs up emoji. It was actually apparent by your friend's response.

 "Jeongguk..." You called his name again.

"What!?" Why was he getting annoyed?

"You don't want Hoseok to kiss me?"

Jeongguk looked like the emoji he sent to Hoseok.

"And why would I want that!?" His chest was heaving up and down. You couldn't see, but his face was as red as tomatoes.

You suddenly laughed, causing Jeongguk's heart to swell in joy. This was the first time he heard you laugh after weeks of getting used to your impassive face.

Were you finally moving on?

Jeongguk guessed you were. Your expression literally changed the moment your parents arrived.

You looked happy to see them—too happy that Jeongguk felt like he was only imagining your annoyed expression a short while ago.

Didn't you say you hated the fact that he invited your parents to your place?

You did say that. Unfortunately Jeongguk had no idea how much you hated talking to your mom.

You swore you loved her with all of your heart, though her principles were different from what you believed in. It was draining to pretend like you agree with her.

"So how's the case you've been handling, sweetheart?" Your mother's sweet smile made you cringe.

It hadn't been long since she pulled you inside your room to 'talk.'

Your parents had already met Jeongguk. As expected, they loved him. Your soulmate made it very easy to like him. Perhaps it was because of his eyes. Damn those big, doe eyes. It never failed to make your heart melt.

"Good." You walked towards your bedroom door. "Let's go back to the kitchen. I think Jeongguk prepared some desserts."

"Dessert could wait, dear." Your mom offered you another sickening smile. It was the kind of smile that told you to give up. She always had her way of making you follow what she wanted you to do.

"Come on, eomma." You laughed nervously as you told her that your soulmate was excited to let her try his yaksik, a popular dessert that your mom truly loved.

You didn't know how Jeongguk found out your mother's favorite dessert. You just knew that you were willing to eat dozens of yaksik just to get away from your mom. You didn't even care if your stomach was still full after eating the lunch your soulmate had cooked.

Your mom only shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't hear what you said.

"Tell me about the Kim's case." She demanded as she meticulously inspected your wardrobe.

Your heartbeat doubled.

It was easy to simply give into what she desired because you were certain that she wouldn't stop anyway.

Sadly you couldn't speak—not anymore. Not when you knew how all of this would go.

You wanted to move on from this nightmare on your own. All your life, you relied upon what your mother would say.

"You can't be sad over this. It's nothing compared to what I've been through!"

"Stop crying. You just think you're hurt. You're not."

"No. You can't. That shows weakness."

These were some of the things your mother would say whenever you encountered problems in life. She honed you to be this strong person who wasn't allowed to mope.

You remembered her telling you that it was insensitive of you to cry over little things when it was clear that so many people had it worse than you.

This was exactly why you didn't want to meet your mother today. She would force you to stop feeling bad about Seokjin's case since it was petty.

It was funny actually. People admired you for always ignoring the pain you felt.

You found this toxic. It felt like you were expected to be strong—making you feel like you should heal right away and not with your own pace. This was also the reason why you found it hard to open up to people, even if you were really close to that someone.

Your mother made you feel like there would always be some kind of adversary when it came to handling inconveniences in life. Sometimes you wished people would shut up and just listen. You didn't always need advice. What you wanted was for them to stop quantifying pain because people had different tolerance when it came to feeling what's painful and what's not.

"I think I lost," it took everything not to cry in front of her. At the end of the day, you were still afraid to be perceived as weak.

She had that much control over you.

"Why did you lose?" Her voice was stone cold.

Your response was automatic. You told her what happened during the trial in spite of telling yourself that you would never get swayed by her authoritarian nature anymore.

"You don’t have to answer. I know now why you lost." She crossed her arms as she shook her head at you.

"Didn't I tell you? You lost because you didn't acquire enough knowledge." She proceeded to tell you what you already knew.

Your mom always said that knowledge is power, but the word "knowledge" that was delicately tattooed on your Achilles heel said otherwise.

For you, knowledge is downfall. This was why you chose to have that word tattooed on your Achilles heel—a part of your body that symbolized fatal weakness.

You were working as an auditor before you decided to go to law school. You knew this field inside out and it came with a price. You helped a firm conceal fraudulent acts using your knowledge.

It was a dangerous thing. Your mom tolerated your unprofessionalism since she was a major stockholder in the said company. She actually pushed you to continue the misrepresentation; however, you were guilty.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't use the power you acquired to fool people. Law school taught you to uphold justice, but you were blinded once again.

You failed to see the impact of your actions to Soobin, an innocent soul. Maybe your mother was right. You were bound to fail your law career. Maybe you should just go back to the corporate world and help billionaires to achieve their disgusting scheme.

"Sorry," you swallowed hard, looking straight into your mother's eyes. "I'll do better."

"You should be." She gritted her teeth as she continued to invalidate your emotions.

You wondered when the torture would stop. You just wanna lie in bed and sleep the pain away. Luckily Jeongguk came knocking on your door, saving you from your mother's poisonous words.

"Wait," Jeongguk stopped you from following your mom to the living room.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face; worry was evident in his eyes. You looked like you were in pain.

Did your mother say something to you? Jeongguk wondered.

"Nothing." But you brushed him off before he could ask.

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. He swore something was wrong, but he didn't want to push it since it was clear that you were not in the mood to talk about it.

But he couldn't stay still knowing that you were bothered. This being the case, he went out of his way just to make you smile.

Jeongguk was being such a good boy. He kept on praising you in front your parents. He was also respectful towards them. His jokes were appropriate and he smiled so kindly at them.

His lingering touch on your wrist, waist, and shoulders didn't go unnoticed by you. It was like he was guarding you from any possible danger.

"What do you think about this, my sweet daughter?" Your father showed you his artwork with a proud smile.

You chuckled.

Jeongguk was teaching your father how to draw.

"You did great, Appa!" You weren't lying. He had done a good job sketching The Hulk.

"Really? What about the color? Do you like it?"

You nodded eagerly. It wouldn't hurt to lie, right?

"I like the shade of green that you used."

You were expecting your father to smile back because of your compliment. Sadly, he only stared at you blankly.

"What?"  A nervous giggle escaped your lips.

Your parents and even Jeongguk were making you feel awkward. Why were they looking at you like you were a poor, poor soul?

"This Hulk is color pink." Your father said softly, making your breathing hitch.

He was trying to show contrast. The Hulk was the personification of rage. He colored him pink because in your world, the mentioned color symbolized gentleness. He wanted you to see in his drawing that people should be gentle even though they're angry.

You ruined it.

They probably know by now that you were lying when you said earlier that you could see colors.

Why did you even lie?

Why couldn't you just tell them that Jeongguk wasn't in love with you?

"Ah," you scratched the back of your head. "Is it pink? Sorry, Appa. I'm still trying to learn colors."

Your lie was understandable. You told your parents that you met Jeongguk a few months ago. It was impossible to know all colors in a short period of time.

You knew you weren't a great liar, but damn. When you looked at Jeongguk, he was smiling as he mouthed, "it is okay," to you.

He was saying that you were doing well, that you didn't ruin what your father had been wishing for: he wanted you to be loved by your soulmate.

You felt like Jeongguk loved you.

You couldn't stop staring at your soulmate as he continued to smile brightly at you.

In this moment, you swore you could see the brown in his eyes.

Or so you thought.

You just couldn't have one peaceful day, could you?

"N-No..." Your voice broke, tears falling down on the sheet of paper you were holding.

Your parents already left. Jeongguk was kind enough to drive them back to their hotel.

You were alone in the house.

The paper in your hand was mocking you, telling you that you would forever be alone in this house.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP IN A CONTRACT TO SELL Vendee Jeon Jeongguk of  Room 13, Apartment X, Seoul, South Korea—you stopped reading the next words.

You couldn't believe it.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to leave you.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook series #jungkook story #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook fantasy au #jungkook romance #jungkook roommate au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook sugar baby au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x noona #ficswithluv

[janetbrown711]

"Why should you get to be angry? It's my life you're messing with" Yakko?

Yakko was still angry, even though it had been over a week since Max had visited.

His siblings' hostility towards Max was really getting on his nerves. Sure, Max caught on pretty early and no one was hurt, but still. It threw everything off- though what that 'everything' was, Yakko wasn't sure.

All he knew was that there was this... pulse, or energy. Like a magnet- Yakko had wanted to touch his face. Why? Max had almost not stopped him- what did that mean?

The fluttering, the blushing, the magnetism, what did it mean???

And why was it every time Yakko felt like maybe he'd figure it out, something or someone always interrupted. Even when Max wasn't there- Yakko would just be trying to sort things out in his head or reading a book, but either his sibs, or his classes, or his parents, or something else distracted him.

That didn't stop him from trying though, as he and Max still continued to write to each other daily, already setting up for Max to visit again tomorrow. He constantly read and reread Max's letters- absorbing every word to craft a perfectly witty yet sincere response. He valued Max and his friendship, he didn't want to ruin it.

And hey, he could tell he was improving. Over the letters he managed to never bring up his grandmother even once- and most of his conversations with Max avoided her too (for the most part... he was working on that). At least he knew other topics now.

However, he was still peeved at his siblings for their attempts to ruin it. Sure Max was clever enough to catch it- but if he hadn't? What if Max had never wanted to see him again after that? What if he had gotten hurt? It was totally irresponsible. He thought Wakko and Dot were better than that.

So- yeah. He was mad, though perhaps angry was too strong. He had mostly buried his anger deep within himself when his father pulled him aside and told him not to get mad at his sibs and that they just needed time, but the anger still resided deep in his chest. Reading the letters did calm him a little though, so that was nice.

However, the day before Max was to come over again, as Yakko went to reread through the letters he found the box that he stored them in to be empty. He searched through every possible drawer and every possible location in the entire castle before admitting what his gut instinct had told him.

His letters were stolen.

And he had a theory on who the culprit could be.

.o0o.

Yakko found his younger brother in his old room, the one nearby the room once belonging to their grandmother, with the private letters all sprawled out before him as he read over them.

All attempts to keep this a civil conversation were thrown out the window in that instant.

"Wakko, what the hell are you doing with my letters?!" Yakko did at least attempt not to shout, but he caught his brother off guard, as he nearly jumped to the ceiling in surprise.

"Y-yakko- I-i thought- I'm just-" Wakko scrambled to gather his mind.

"These letters are none of your business! Why on earth do you have them?!" Yakko approached, angrily taking the letters back.

"I-i thought you read them all- I thought you didn't need them- I-i just-" Wakko fought Yakko, pulling on the letters.

"These are private letters full of private emotions, Wakko. You have no business- I haven't even read this one! What is wrong with you?!" Yakko yanked harder, causing Wakko to let go.

"I-i just- Max is just-"

"Max is just what? Being my friend? Being the first person outside of my family that's ever connected with me?! God forbid I have a life outside of you two!" The elder brother fumed.

"H-he's just trying to take you away! You can't see it because you're like- in love with him- or something!" Wakko bit back.

Yakko froze.

"What did you say..?" Yakko's eye twitched.

"Y...you're like- in love with him. He's just trying to take you away- he's just like grandma!" Wakko argued.

"Max is nothing like grandma." Yakko snapped. "Max has made me the happiest I've ever been in my entire miserable fucking life! You should know that after snooping around my private fucking letters!" Yakko shouted, his voice cracking slightly as he felt himself begin to tear up.

"I just- god-! How could you be so selfish? Why can't you just be happy for me?!" Yakko demanded to know.

Wakko opened his mouth to utter some kind of reply, when without warning, their mother burst through the door.

"What on earth is all this shouting about?" She demanded to know. Wakko attempted to blink away his tears, which unfortunately caused them to fall so instead he picked up what letters he could before storming out without another word.

"Yakko. Tell me what happened. Now." She locked eyes with Yakko, deciding it best to give the younger brother a moment to himself.

Yakko sighed, wiping his tears from his eyes as he sat on Wakko's old bed. Lena was quick to join him, slowly rubbing his back.

"He took my letters. he's been reading them- all of them." Yakko explained bitterly. Lena slowly nodded.

"I just- those are private thoughts between the two of us- it's not just my privacy, it's Max's too. I-it's like Wakko has no respect for either of u-us," Yakko hiccuped a little.

"Now Yakko, you know that isn't true. Wakko thinks the world of you," Lena reminded softly. "He's just... confused. And scared."

"Oh yeah? He can join the club then," Yakko sniffled.

"Look... I know you're going through a lot with Max right now: new emotions, new situations, and the like, but... you've been plenty selfish too, especially in neglecting your siblings, Yakko. They've tried getting your attention several times but they feel as though you won't give them the time of day," Lena held one of his hands.

"I-i haven't-..." Yakko's instinct was to protest but as he reflected upon the past few months, he recognized the truth behind her words.

"Shit..." He muttered.

"Now, I'm not going to make you cancel Max's visit for tomorrow, but do know that after he's gone I want you to spend some good quality time with your siblings, alright? I'm sure Max will understand your situation plenty," Lena said softly yet firmly.

"Y-yeah... I guess I've been pretty wrapped up, haven't I?" He chuckled weakly.

"It's alright dear, so long as you do your best to recognize the mistake and make up for it through your actions," She kissed the top of his head. Yakko sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder.

The pair stayed like this a moment, before Lena decided she had waited long enough and it was time for her to seek out Wakko. However, as she started to head through the door, Yakko stopped her.

"Mom?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you-... Am I...?"

Yakko bit his lip as he tried to think of what to ask.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Lena chuckled softly.

"Hard to say, as it truly is different for everyone... But from what I remember... it's a sense of comfort and peace; being at peace with who you are and who they are to the point where you constantly want to be with them for that peace... if that makes any sense." Lena shook her head.

"Then again, when has love ever made any sense?" She snickered.

"Uh-huh..." Yakko pondered her words.

"I'm sorry dear, I'm afraid that's something you'll have to figure out on your own," She explained. "I'm afraid I have to go to your brother now though, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah- that's... yeah," Yakko nodded and Lena headed out, leaving Yakko to sort out this new information.

.o0o.

Wakko hated shouting.

It made him feel small- like he was four all over again. God- why did he always just make things worse? He never backed down, even when he said something stupid.

He hid in one of the storage closets near the tower. It was dark and cramped, but it was where he felt he ought to be. After all, he didn't want to be seen.

He gripped the letters in his hands tighter. He didn't know why he took them that time- it was dumb. He was already caught- Yakko already knew he was a thief.

But it was to protect him against Max-

Max.

Just that name made Wakko's blood boil and angry tears increase.

He hated Max.

He hated him a lot. Yakko wouldn't see it- he was under his siren spell somehow. Wakko thought taking those letters would show him some kind of clue to unraveling it, but instead, it just showed how messed up and lost Yakko was. It hurt to read each word and Yakko's notes on the letters- the little question marks and underlines and occasional heart. Wakko hated it.

Wakko hated Max.

He hated him very, very much.

He was taking his brother away- his brother would never ignore him unless there was something very sinister forcing him too- which Max clearly was.

R...right?

Wakko continued crying.

However, after a while of crying in the dark a soft knock interrupted his tears as the door slowly opened to reveal his mother, who slowly sat on the ground outside the closet and opened her arms. Wakko hesitated a moment, before practically leaping out into her loving arms.

"There, there Wakko..." She soothed as he sobbed in her arms.

"I-i w-was just- i-i just-" he couldn't get his words out.

"I know darling, he shouldn't have shouted so much," she stroked his head.

"I-i just..." Wakko attempted to breathe enough to calm himself.

"I know... you don't trust Max yet, and it's scary seeing Yakko connect so quickly, I know," She moved him so she could see his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wakko sniffled. "H-he's just trying to take him away."

"That's not true, Wakko. Max is just spending time with him- Yakko is just getting... a little caught up is all," Lena sighed.

"B-but he never ignored me like this before he met him," Wakko frowned.

"I know Wakko... he hasn't done his best with balancing everything out..." She said. "But... you haven't made it exactly easier either."

Wakko blinked at that.

"What I mean is... you haven't given Max a shot yet. You rejected him without giving him a shot to prove himself to you," Lena said.

Given him a shot..? Was she insane? She would never suggest he "give grandma a shot" so why was she suggesting to give Max a shot? Because he "seemed" friendlier and more charismatic???

"Wakko, look. Whether or not you like it, Yakko really really likes Max. The least you can do is give him a day to prove himself, alright?" Lena made him look at her.

She looked so desperate for him to believe her, it made him sad. She was clearly under Max's spell too.

It became clear to Wakko he had been underestimating Max. If he wanted him gone for good and to free his family from his influence, he was going to have to take drastic measures.

"Maybe..." he mumbled for her sake. Lena smiled softly and kissed the top of his hat.

"Yakko will really appreciate it," She said.

"Yeah, okay," Wakko looked at the ground.

Yakko will appreciate it when he's free of Max's stupid curse- all of them will be.

"I have to go back to work- will you be okay?" Lena asked. Wakko nodded. Lena slowly stood, helping Wakko up as well, before giving him another hug and a kiss on his hat.

"It's gonna be okay Wakko, just give him a chance," She said.

"Okay," he said, giving a weak smile. Lena gave a similarly weak smile back before hugging him once more and walking away.

'Give him a chance.' Oh please- Wakko would give him a chance alright.

Wakko stormed right back into that storage closet, climbed up to the tallest shelf, and pulled down the highest key, before storming right on down to the tower- quickly and furiously unlocking the massive lock just to be sure, and-

Yes, they hadn't bricked it off quite yet.

Wakko now had the perfect to keep Max far away from his family for the rest of his life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

#my fics #animaniacs #wakko warner #yakko warner #queen angelina ii #angelina warner #it's finally done!!! #sorry for the wait #and the shitty chapter- #this took a shit long time to write- #but hey! we got hella angst coming up #so look forward to that ;3 #(which should be coming out a lot sooner fingers crossed) #if you read this i love you #and again so sorry for the wait

[crashdevlin]

Another Second Chance 17- Everything Changes

Another Second Chance Masterlist, Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist

Author’s Note: The final (hopefully) installment of the Happily Ever Eventually RPF series.

Summary: Y/n and Danneel talk which forces Y/n to share a bit of truth with Nova.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word count: 2934

Story Warnings: past cheating, Nova is not nice to Danneel, Nova is a very protective daughter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danneel looks a little shocked. Not like she’s shocked to see me, but maybe that she’s shocked that I didn’t run away and hide. She shakes herself out of it and smiles back at me. “Hey, sweetie. I guess we had to run into each other eventually, didn’t we?”

I nod and look back toward the dressing rooms. “Yeah. Austin’s big, but not that big.” I feel a bit uncomfortable as I gesture at the dresses. “I’m getting Nova some nice stuff for the Out Youth Gala.”

“Oh, yeah.” She nods and fiddles with her purse strap. Seems she’s just as uncomfortable. “Jensen mentioned he was taking her. I told him I’d stay home for this one.”

"You don't have to sit it out. You could still-"

"It'd be pretty tense. Jensen and I haven't been able to be around each other for more than a few minutes at a time in...well, in years.” Well, that’s a confirmation of Jensen’s words that I never thought I’d get. “Besides...a young bi girl, she deserves to rub elbows with those people. I’ve already met most of them.”

“Thanks for...giving it up this year.” I want to rub the back of my neck. I want to hug myself. I want to tug on my hair a bit. I’m tense and I don’t like feeling like this. I don’t, though. I keep my smile and I stay polite. I learned this a long time ago.

“Of course, sweetie.” God, that makes me cringe.

“Can you…” How do I say this without sounding rude? “Not call me that?”

She nods, understanding immediately. “Sorry. Default. I…” She runs her fingers through her hair and lets out a soft scoff. “I’m not really good at this. I should have just walked back out when I saw you.”

“No, no, that’s…” I sigh. “This is awkward. For both of us. Last time we talked, I was so angry and sad and-”

“And now you’ve got Jensen back and everything is coming up for you.”

That hits a little bitter.

“Danneel...I…” I scoff and shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest.  “The fact that I’m with Jensen again has nothing to do with the upward mobility of my existence...and, you know, I’m sorry that you and Jay didn’t work out, but I stepped out after you got caught together. You had five years to get him back and make things work.”

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." She shakes her head. "No, well, I guess a little. I just always thought one day he'd stop pining over you and come home." Guess she's still in love. Jensen just isn't a man who's easy to get over, is he? "Guess that was wishful thinking."

"I tried, Dee. I told him...I told you. I stepped back at every opportunity so that I wouldn't ever be in the way of your love."

"I know. From the very beginning, you tried to stay out of the way but we didn't really want that."

I roll my eyes. "You both wanted to have your cake and eat it but that's not how the world works." Not my world, anyway. "That Happy Family Fantasy? I talked myself into that. I tried to be what would have made you and Jensen happiest, but I couldn't do it. Trying hurt me. That single night that ruined everything…and when I realized that it wouldn't ever work with me and him and you, I stepped away, just like I stepped away when I realized my involvement with him was harming your marriage. I did everything I could to make sure you didn't lose him and-"

"What do you think of this one, Mum?" Nova's voice stops me and I turn toward the dressing room. She looks gorgeous...and angry. "What's she doing here?"

"It's a free country, Nova. She can shop where she likes." I clear my throat, try to get the bitterness out of my voice. "Genevieve is the one who introduced me to this shop. I assume that she-"

"I expected Gen to have better taste in friends."

"Not the time for the attitude," I snap at her.

"I don't have an attitude." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Yes, you do and you need to stop."

"I just don't understand why you're standing there, talking to the woman who ruined your relationship with Jensen last time. You can't just-"

"It's more complicated than all that, sweetie." Don't talk, Danneel. She's already about to go into fight mode.

"It's not," Nova practically growls. "It's not complicated. He was dating my mother and you were caught shoving your tongue down his throat. That's crappy but it's not complicated!"

"Nova. Stop!" Mom Voice better work. I don’t want anything to show up on TMZ about a fight between my daughter and Danneel in the middle of a damn dress shop.

"No!" She did not just stomp her foot and-  "What, you think that just because you let Jensen fuck around with her while you were married to him that she has to be okay with him fucking around with you?"

My eyes go wide as she leans forward, trying to intimidate Dee. My heart starts pounding and I step between them, look up into my daughter's eyes. "Go get your clothes back on. Right fucking now."

"But, Mum!"

"I don't know who you think you are right now, little girl, but I am your mother and you're going to listen. Go. Get. Changed."

She stomps as she heads back to the dressing room. My heart is still going a mile a minute as I turn back to Danneel. "I'm...sorry about her. She...thinks she knows things and she...does know some things and she's protective and…" I scratch at my brow. "She doesn't want to see me break again."

"None of us do, swee-...Y/n. She's not wrong to be upset at me. Jensen's still upset at me about it."

I shake my head. "No, he's not. Did he never explain to you…" He really doesn't talk to her anymore. "It's not that he's mad at you, Danneel. He couldn’t come back because he had to change. He had to stop being the man that would ruin his life over selfish desires. You were...you were a constant reminder of what that old man had done. He couldn’t come back...not on his own, anyway." I don't know why that last thought escapes but it does.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Did you try to get him back?" I don't know why I'm asking this. Why do I care? "You asked me five years ago if Jensen wasn't worth fighting for. Did you fight for him? Or did you just sit at home, hoping he'd crawl back to you eventually? Did you fight?"

Because if she fought, if she tried, and he didn’t come back, that means he's really done with her. He really became a different man and he doesn't need or want her. He became a different man who just wants me.

"Are we leaving?" Nova asks as she hooks the hangers on the closest rack and approaches with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"Yeah. Grab the blue dress you tried on, take it to the register." She rolls her eyes and grabs the dress, walking toward the till.

"It was nice talking to you, Danneel." I start walking away to go pay for No's dress, but Danneel's voice stops me.

"I did fight. I tried. He wouldn't hear it." I look at her over my shoulder. "He was too caught up in the liquor and the loss." She tucks her hair behind her ear and gives a sad smile. "I fought for him. I lost him anyway."

I hate to acknowledge the elation I'm feeling, but it's there. He’s really mine. He's really mine and I won’t have to worry about her stealing his heart.

"I'm sorry, Danneel." It's all I can think to say. I know that losing Jensen couldn't have been easy. I walked away and it wasn't easy to lose him.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I never should have-"

"Things were complicated. They're less complicated now."

She nods. "For you."

Shit, I can't feel guilty about this. "Yes. Things are less complicated for me. I hope things get better for you." I head for the register and I pay for Nova's dress. Danneel is gone from the shop by the time we turn around to leave.

"Mum, I'm sorry, I-" Nova starts as we walk toward the car.

"Shut up."

She scoffs angrily. "That’s so rude!"

"Get in the car," I demand, tossing her dress in the back.

"Mum! I said I was-"

"And I said 'Shut up'." I drop into the driver's seat and wait for her to get in and shut her door. "First off, how fucking dare you say any words out of my mouth are rude with the way you spoke to Danneel in there? How dare you try to lecture your mother on how to speak to you when you obviously don't know how to speak to a woman who you probably don’t remember meeting and who did absolutely nothing to harm you.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I keep talking. “I am fucking mortified that you would talk to her like that. You don’t know her. You met her once when we brought your little brother home from Vegas and you have no right to talk to her like that. She might not deserve your fucking respect, but I am not raising a disrespectful little brat. You can have your opinions and you can even voice them but you have no right to make her feel like shit about something that she’s been hammered about and called a homewrecker about for five fucking years. You wanna be a feminist, you wanna lift women up? You don’t fucking attack them for a mistake she made in the past. She fucked up and hurt me but you don’t even know the extent of it, because you are my daughter. You are not my manager, my bodyguard, or my fucking knight in armor, Nova. You are my daughter and I love you for trying to protect me, but I had that interaction handled and I didn’t need you flying off the handle at her. You weren’t even that bad with Jensen and he did worse than she did!”

She’s got tears in her eyes...and I feel bad for hurting her feelings, but...I’m right. She went too far.

“And while this is not something I ever thought I’d be talking to you about, you seem to think you know something about something so I’ll tell you that it doesn’t matter that Danneel and Jensen had an open marriage because that wasn’t what muddled everything up at the end and made them so bold as to be fucking around with each other while I was in Vancouver.”

“What? You--did something...happen before that?”

Again, not a conversation I thought I would be having with her...definitely not a conversation I’m going to have with her when she’s in trouble. “Doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is that you’re fuckin’ grounded until the Gala. No electronics.”

“What?!” she exclaims indignantly.

“Yeah and if you don’t take your punishment gracefully, I’ll extend it past the Gala, too. You’ll get one night and then you’ll be grounded again. You want that?”

“No,” she grumbles. Me either, No. I hate being the bad guy...but I’ve always been better at it than Nate.

"When we get home, I want you to gather up your laptop, game consoles, and the cable box for your TV and put them in the garage. You can read a few books for entertainment."

"Okay." She sounds so dejected but...it’s what I have to do to get the point across.

"Good."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll talk to Dee,” Jensen volunteers. “I’m sure she’s not-”

I shake my head. “I just can’t believe Nova went so vicious...and I think I’m going to have to tell her what happened back then.”

“You don’t have to. She doesn’t have to know.”

“She doesn’t have to know. But...she knows enough to be judgmental and-” What if she judges me afterward? What if she judges me for pressuring myself? What if she decides that I was in the wrong? What if she thinks it wasn’t cheating because we had a three-way, even though they both knew I didn’t want them together without me? “It’s better if I’m honest with her. If she decides to hold the threesome against me, then that’s...well, that’s her prerogative, but I think it’s better for everyone if she knows the truth.”

“You want me there?” he offers and I bite my bottom lip. I’d love to have the support, but…

“No. I think it’d be a better conversation for just me and her. She’s still kinda defensive around you.”

“Okay. Let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Tell Dee I’m sorry.”

“I will. I love you, Baby Girl.”

“Love you, too, Jay.”

I hang up the phone and head for the kitchen. I make a cup of coffee and sit at the table to drink it. I start running through ways this conversation can go, pieces of dialogue in a story. The conversations never really go like they do in my head. But I rehearse them anyway.

I finish my coffee and head up the stairs to her room. I knock. She groans and calls me to come in. I walk in and sit on the edge of her bed. She’s slouching in the bean bag chair in the corner, a book in her grasp. “When I got together with Jensen the first time, he was still married. I know you know that.” I look up at her ceiling. “Danneel agreed to an open marriage...but Jensen fucked it up. He fell in love with me. So, I left. I started dating Tom.” She makes a disgusted sound, but I keep talking. “You know this. Whatever post or article you read, you know this, but you don’t know that I started hanging with Danneel after Tom tried to rape me. We got drunk and I kissed her.”

Nova’s eyes go wide. “I was shocked when I did it, too...and I immediately told Jay. I felt so guilty and confused and...as soon as I told him, he decided that I needed to sleep with her.” I lick my lips. “He was a bit selfish back then. Pretty much very selfish back then...and he wanted both of us again. He admitted to it...that he pushed for me and her to sleep together. I couldn’t...but he really wanted it, us together...so Danneel and I came up with an idea...all three of us together.”

“You slept with both of them?” she asked, her voice a bit squeaky and very judgemental.

“Just once. I woke up the morning after and I couldn’t...I couldn’t deal. I felt dirty. I’d pressured myself into doing something just for Jay and Dee and it was bad. It was bad for me. Dr. McCauliffe told me that I should tell them how it made me feel, but I couldn’t. Disappointing them was something I couldn't do. I probably would have convinced myself to do it again eventually...and it would have broken me even further. I would have let it happen because I didn’t care about my mental health. I cared about them."

I'm afraid to look at her. Is she judging me? Is she disgusted?

"They both knew I didn’t want them touching each other. Not without me. But they both knew that I was unlikely to let it happen again...that I was having trouble with the first time and it was going to be an issue to do it again. That's why they...did what they did. They didn't think they'd get caught. They didn't think it would destroy me if they did."

"That’s worse!" she exclaims and I look over at her. She looks livid. "They knew you were falling apart!"

I rub at the back of my neck and nod. "Yeah, but they really wanted-"

"What you wanted didn’t matter? What you deserved? I can't believe them!"

"There’s a reason I had to end it all, why I had to get five years of distance. There's a reason why Jensen had to become a whole new man." I lick my lips and sigh. "They both betrayed me, Nova. They hurt me and it's taken five years to get us all okay and that's why I can't abide the way you talked to Danneel, because she lost everything too. She was selfish and horrible and she lost everything over it. She doesn't need a teenage girl giving her all this attitude over it."

She looks away and scratches at the back of her hand. "She deserved it."

"You don't get to make that determination." I lean forward and take her hand in mine. "I know that my mental break and breakup hurt you, No, but I'm the one they betrayed. I'm the one they broke...and I've decided to forgive."

"But-"

"But nothing. They've changed. I've changed. Things are better. Do you understand?"

She looks down and sighs. "I understand."

I pat her hand and stand. "You're still in trouble. But I love you, Nova."

"I love you, too."

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #spn rpf #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #reader-insert

[dadsbongos]

Fratricide

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Touya Todoroki/Reader/Natsuo Todoroki (Platonic) Warnings: Veryyyyyyy dialogue-heavy, like soooooo much dialogue - also!! Some of the descriptions to (y/n)’s problem somewhat seem similar to schizophrenia but it’s not meant to portray schizophrenia at all. I didn’t do research on schizophrenia and therefore do not claim whatsoever that this is about schizophrenia. It’s just a coincidence, I don’t want to spread any misinformation or misinterpretations as truth and want to say right now: this isn’t about schizophrenia.  Summary: He’s everywhere. ~~~

(Y/n) followed the lines of the panels in her therapist’s office ceiling, the panels were molded and looked old, yellowing with age. At times, she swore she could see little… particles falling off and down towards her. It made her lips purse. Body tightening.

“Do you blame yourself?”

“What?”

There was the sound of pages flipping and (Y/n) knew better than to look over at the doctor. She knew better than to think she’d see a doctor.

“I’ve had many patients, after going through a trauma such as yours, who feel guilty even after everything’s been done with.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed, swallowing the lump in her throat, “Maybe a little.”

“Look at me.”

Suddenly, the woman’s eyes widened, head shaking slightly, “No, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Because,” (Y/n) danced over the topic, twiddling at her thumbs and biting her lip nervously, “Because I… I don’t see you.”

“What do you see?”

Shoulders bunching even closer to her body, (Y/n) slowly turned her head to peek at her therapist. Rather than a middle-aged woman, there was a preteen boy sitting in the chair across from her.

His red hair was being slowly overtaken with white and most of his exposed body was covered in tinged, darkened bandages, particularly at his wrists. One leg hooked over the other and head resting against his fist with his elbow placed against the arm of the doctor’s chair. His name was Todoroki, Touya, and he hadn’t stopped bothering (Y/n) since they last saw each other.

“Him. Still.”

“Him?” Touya quirked a brow, smirking, “Who’s him?”

“Touya.”

“Todoroki?”

A mere nod before (Y/n) was looking away again, eyes redirecting to the ceiling. 

“How often do you see him now?”

She hesitated, squinting her eyes as if she needed to pretend to remember, “All the time.”

“For how long?”

“You know.”

“For how long?”

“Since I was eleven.”

Out of her peripherals, she sensed the movement of a few curt nods.

“Is it just me?”

“No,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “It- it’s everyone. My brothers. My sister. My mom.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah… him too.”

“Ms. Todoroki, do you have someone to drive you home? Because I’m afraid we’re out of time.”

“My brother. Natsuo. He’s outside.”

She could’ve done something. She knows that. If anything, she’s the one who deserved to die. She deserved to burn.

Walking into the lobby, (Y/n) tried discerning where her younger brother had been sitting when she’d gone into the office. Suddenly, one Touya out of the five stood up, approaching the woman, “Ready?”

Trying not to look down at the young boy, she nodded meekly, letting him grab hold of her arm and take her outside.

“Did you tell her about your medications?”

“How they don’t work? Yeah.”

She didn’t. Why would she bother when she wasn’t even taking them? She didn’t deserve to get better. She hated seeing Touya everywhere, but she’d hate to live peacefully even more.

“It should’ve been you, you know?”

“What?”

Touya Natsuo glanced over at his older sister briefly before his eyes flickered back to the road, “‘I should’ve been there, you know?’” he chuckled, awkwardly and dryly, “Just mumbling to myself. Been doing that a lot lately.”

“Oh, yeah, I get what you mean.”

It should’ve been her. She knows. 

She should’ve tried harder. She should’ve protected her brother. She should’ve done something. Anything. It wasn’t fair that Touya had to die because she was selfish.

But she could never say that, not when everyone was jumping down her throat to move on. It wasn’t healthy, Fuyumi said. Touya would want better for her, Shoto said.

They didn’t have Touya in their ears every night. When the crickets were singing and the mice asleep, Touya came out to whisper everything (Y/n) already knew. It should’ve been her.

When Enji stomped into their room and demanded (Y/n) go train with him, she should’ve gotten over herself and done it. When Touya offered himself up instead, she should’ve stopped him.

If she’d just stopped fucking whining and gone with her father, Touya would still be alive. 

Looking over, (Y/n) wondered how her brother could see the road at his height before resealing her lips. Natsuo wasn’t 5’2” with third-degree burns hanging off his body. She turned back to stare out the passenger side window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.

“Do you ever think about Touya?”

Natsuo swallowed thickly, hands tightening in grip over the steering wheel before delivering a short, singular nod, “A lot.”

“Me too.”

(Y/n) glanced back over at her brother, brows pinched together toward her face as the young boy looked between her and the road a few times. He frowned slightly, bandaged fingers spreading over the wheel before circling back around it, “I can tell.”

#bnha x reader #bnha x reader platonic #dabi x reader #dabi x reader platonic #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x reader platonic #dabi x sister reader #do i have requests? yes and i PROMISE i'll get to them but like #torturing y/n hours is the best hours #dabi angst

[yandere-mha]

Character Guide/analysis

So no one asked for this and I know I have a lot of much better prompts to get to that have been requested by you guys (sowwy <3) but I just wanted to establish a guide for what I personally think each yandere on my fave list’s most distinctive traits about their characterization that you’d have to deal with should you have the misfortune honor of earning their fixated obsession. This is mostly just a reference for both myself and you guys if you want something specific to be mentioned in a scenario/HC post. I may add or redact things from this list from time to time.

TW: ABUSE KIDNAPPING, SELF HARM MENTION, SUICIDE THREAT MENTION.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Dabi: paranoid jealousy caused by insecurity, unstable mood/neurotic, lack of identity, made uncomfortable by self accountability, selfishness/everything is about him, loneliness, superiority complex, lack of trust/defensiveness, self destructive and suicidal tendencies, tendency to switch between patronizing and seeing you as the perfect being/black and white views, pride for his ambitions/emphasis on the importance of having a purpose, his hypocrisy/tendency to call you criticisms that are true about himself, his shifting between being extremely non-verbal/to-the-point and going on psychotic tangents, his tendency to both be very plan-oriented and act without thinking, his need for your full attention, disregard for your personal possessions, lack of social tact/will say or do one thing and mean another, emphasis on revenge/doesn’t easily forgive, lacks social and emotional intelligence, easily annoyed, optimism about the future/naturally hopeful disposition, and touch starved.

Hawks: paranoid protectiveness/hero complex, loneliness, twisted priorities, self sacrificing (martyr complex), lack of a sense of identity, cold demeaner/emotional exhaustion, extreme alertness and anxiety, prone to rushed movement, a need to feel safe and calmed, tendency to stare, an underlying wish to be more like you, a desire to make you feel comfortable, tendency to take on responsibility for difficult tasks, fear of himself, fear of being like his father, tendency to stalk, anxiety looks like anger, and low self esteem.

Shigaraki: emphasis on loyalty/trust issues, low self esteem, shame in voicing his feelings, emphasis on revenge/doesn’t easily forgive, need to feel babied/mom issues, touch starved, need to feel in control, a need to feel understood/listened to, a need for the ability to relate to you, nervous ticks, the change of your relationship with time/his progressing maturity, a need to root for the underdog, a need for emotional support and community, craving and fear of emotional connection, a fear of showing weakness, protective.

Tamaki: social anxiety/timidness, self sacrificing caused by low self esteem, tendency for suicidal threats and self harm, tendency to worship/see you as the perfect being, refusal to touch you, tendency to monologue about how much he loves you/how terrible he is, extreme guilt, sensitive/easily trigged neurosis, his tendency to grab objects and damage them by clutching it too hard, his tendency to stare/barley restrained desire to touch you, fear of rejection/being judged, protective from other people and himself, sees himself as the ultimate sinner (Eve who eats the apple), easily emotionally manipulated, tendency to cry, likes people who are opposite of himself.

Twice: Touch starved, desperate need for community/emotional connection, an emphasis on looks (not vain but fixated on your physical traits), wants to feel loved and cared for, thinks you can do no wrong, easily trusting/manipulated, wears his heart on his sleeve, sensitive/easily heart broken, tendency to cry, self sacrificing, protective (not jealous), more lenient, highly emotional, friendly and loyal, highly devoted yet dependent, dependent on people’s view of him/values your opinion over his own, sees you as his reason for living, lack of a sense of personal identity/individuality.

Fatgum: Emphasis on conventional family and parenthood, sees himself as the perfect husband/father, odd relationship with gender roles, highly delusional, doesn’t want to be seen or made feel like a bad person, emphasis on food/emotionally bonds with food and the act of cooking, doesn’t like change, highly protective, wants to see you act happy and admire him, doesn’t take guilt or reality checks well, smothering affection, lack of accountability, forgets his own strength/hurts you accidently, uses passive threats and intimidating body language, thinks of himself a lenient but is controlling, demands your time and attention, lack of self awareness.

Stain: Tendency for worship, very controlling/thinks he knows what’s best for you, protective, impatient when you whine, feels underlying guilt, not cuddly but doesn’t respect your boundaries, very non-verbal, only speaks out of utter importance, adoring of heroics yet despises hero society, thinks of himself as a selfless martyr, is actually very self centered, his opinion is the only right opinion, intolerant of most people, has a black and white view, highly strategic and plan-oriented, independent, tendency to patronize while also having an unrealistically high opinion of you, very high standards, untrusting of others and yourself, tendency to use his quirk on you, paranoid of betrayal, tendency to stalk.

Aizawa: Hides shyness by intimidation, very protective, very stern with rules, tendency to test your loyalty, untrusting, emphasis on fatherhood, mostly non-verbal affection, emotionally exhausted/socially anxious, craves emotional and social comfort/fears rejection and being judged, has a staring problem but doesn’t like when you stare, respects your physical boundaries/won’t force affection, tendency to stalk, doesn’t like to be smothered, will leave anonymous gifts, made anxious by affection yet craves it, anxiety looks like anger.

Overhaul: unaware of his self hatred, hypocrisy/tendency to call you criticisms that are true about himself, perfectionism/germaphobia, views you as an object, cold and uncaring, highly critical, strategic/plan oriented, doesn’t like surprises, god complex, self-centered, power-hungry and controlling, fear of looking weak, highly manipulative, violent but doesn’t get sadistic unless you betray him, total disregard for your feelings and physical comfort, loves you but isn’t in love with you, sees you as a valuable object to preserve, emphasis on manners/respect from you, patronizing, doesn’t like others complaining.

Miruko: sadistic, emotional, lack of self restraint/acts without thinking, prone to sentimentality, highly competitive/superiority complex, not prone to anger, doesn’t take many things seriously, needs constant stimulation/easily bored, high libido, easy going, fear of showing weakness, prone to bragging/talking herself up, prone to rebellious behavior, lacks emotional intelligence, likes to be challenged, very talkative, will talk over you/not listen to what you have to say, has a short attention span.

Geten: violent temper/easily angered, fear of abandonment, fear of showing weakness to others, fear of betrayal, easily embarrassed, plan-oriented/doesn’t like surprises, highly devoted, unfriendly, mostly non-verbal affection, trusting of only you, earnest, lacks a sense of humor, sensitive/easily insulted, touch starved, tendency to use quirk in extreme anger, highly emotional, irrational only in anger, prone to tears of anger.

#yandere #yandere male #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #yandere x reader #yandere writing #bnha writing #yandere imagines #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #dabi #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #dabi x reader #yandere scenario #yandere au #male yandere #female yandere #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #character guide

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Witchy stuff! Disclaimer: I am not a witch so please do not take my theory of theory seriously. This has been taken off first page of Google, which is where I did my research. First ironstrange x reader interaction & tony being sweet and stephen radiating wife energy.

fun fact: the moodboards are just chapter spoilers without context.

Whatever protection spell the book had, it was nuclear. Burn cream didn't do much in terms of numbing the pain; I had to wear gloves throughout my shift at the café, self-conscious about the skin peeling off my palms and the light, sensitive fingertips. Saying that the day was hellish would have been too kind.

My spirits were briefly lifted when one of my favourite mad scientists walked in, nose buried in a StarkPad - his chattier, more confident friend nowhere to be seen. Doctor Bruce Banner lifted his eyes from his work only to give a brief, polite smile and mumble his order, immediately resuming the poking of the screen.

"You forgot something last time," I couldn't suppress the grin. Sometimes routine was nice, comfortable. The napkin with unintelligible scribbles and formulas in my hand was transferred to Banner's pocket with a shy smile and a reddish tint to his cheeks, as if he didn't find himself in this very situation more often than not. "Is Mr. Stark okay?" I voiced my concerns, having noticed the recent, acute absence of the rowdy man in the café. Dr. Banner rarely came here alone and it was more of a telling exception than anything.

"Oh, Tony? Yes, he's fine," the scientist nodded absentmindedly. "He's on a small vacation with his boyfriend," the last part was said with puzzlement and incredulity and I had to remind myself that a forty-something scientist was unlikely to possess at least a halfway decent gaydar. I mean, I would have eaten my shoe if Tony Stark was 100% straight.

The fact that Tony having a boyfriend surprised Dr. Banner, who appeared to be one of Mr. Stark's best friends, was quite funny to me. "Good for him, he deserves it after saving the world, like, a bajillion times," I replied honestly, attempting to hide my good-natured snicker at Banner's obliviousness. Scientists, they just are a different breed, man.

The perplexion melted off Banner's face, leaving only supportive contentment. "That is correct," he nodded confidently, exchanging a bill for his matcha. "Thank you. And, uh, congrats on your new job," he added with another one of his not-quite shy smiles.

My cheerfulness vacated the premises shortly afterwards as I struggled to keep up with the endless stream of customers all the while my hands throbbed and burned under the nitrile gloves. I was ready to call it a day and just tell Jeremy I had an accident, but my pride wouldn't let me. I arrived at Odette's feeling less than stellar, running purely on spite and several cups of espresso.

It went about as good as expected, select few customers growing clouds over their heads at the slow pace I was assembling their orders: the fact that even witches had Karens of their kind was a fact that I found both amusing and alarming. It wasn't particular comfortable, knowing that I, or any other wait staff, was always at risk of being cursed for bringing them the wrong kind of cake or messing up their white suburban mom coffee.

"You could have asked, you know," Odette's slow drawl startled me out of the trance I'd put myself in to avoid focusing on the discomfort. "Come here, girl, I'll take care of it."

My face heated up immediately as I realized the tender skin of my grubby little hands was on full display. Odette must've put two and two together, seeing my sins written all over my scarred hands and my guilty face. Not wanting to invoke a negative reaction and get on her scary bad side, I let myself obediently trot into her office.

"I, uh," the eloquence of my speech - spectacular. I was ready to fall through the floor out of of shame.

"It happens sometimes," a round jar of what looked like buckwheat honey landed on the table. Odette massaged the thick gel into my palms with gentle circular motions, shushing my hums of pain in-between. "The book called for me in the same way it called to you. The only difference, it was my grandmother's at the time so the protection wards did not go off because I was family." My eyebrows rose at the calm in Odette's voice. Composed as ever, the witch looked more amused than upset by my little snooping stint.

The pain in my hands disappeared completely, a cool sensation I could only describe as minty enveloping them and spreading throughout my body. The chill was pleasant - I hadn't even realized my body had been running on higher-than-usual temperatures ever since I touched the book. Those protection wards Odette spoke of, they really packed a punch!

"I will teach you," she must've interpreted my stunned silence as curiosity, having made up her own mind in the seconds I was basking in my newfound relief. "We'll start slow. The transition from the material world into the spiritual isn't easy," Odette warned, locking her fingers, her magnetic eyes commandeering mine for utmost attention. "But it is incredibly rewarding. If you follow the rules, you will prosper. Our kind isn't plentiful these days, with people praying to gods that condone greed and selfishness," her lip curled in distaste. "Each one of us can make a large difference in this world. The opportunities you have been given need to be taken seriously."

My lip caught between my teeth as I mulled over the words my boss spoke with so my concern and conviction. Nothing in her speech sounded amiss; sure as she was, I was still mercifully given a choice. Odette's aura, that used to seem suffocating and dense, grew around me into a non-physical hug, a comfort akin to a mother supporting her child taking their first steps.

I eyed the sixty-something year-old, tall, imposing woman, scanning her for any deceitfulness, exhilaration and wariness sitting on my shoulders and whispering into my ears. True to myself, I gave into the side that craved and lived for adventure. "I would love to learn," hoping my voice conveyed the excitement and hopefulness of being a part of something special.

Odette smiled kindly. "I knew that," with a chuckle to herself, she reached into a set of drawers and extracted a few worn, plain notebooks. "Homework," the wink she threw at me instantly took ten years off her face. I couldn't even bring myself to sigh, only the sludge still covering my palms preventing me from making grabby hands in the direction of new information.

The bell rang before I could make another comment and I was let go with the instructions to wash my hands - and that's exactly what I did, having noted the short Asian man impatiently tapping his foot next to the front desk.

The man's name was Wong and he was the sole reason for my uncontrollable flares of temper during my work hours at the bodega. Odette herself avoided him like the plague, and for a good reason: his attitude was nothing short of conceited, as if the weird robes that he wore were some kind of a hall-pass to be a demanding asshole when it came to the store's wares.

Wong could spend up to forty minutes inspecting the baggies containing herbs and other knick-knacks, meticulously picking out what he considered best and curtly insulting the items he found to be lacking in quality. I was made aware he belonged to some sort of a sect or a cult of honest-to-god wizards; as if him looking like a worker of the Ministry of Magic didn't make that fact obvious. I was unpleasantly surprised at the fact that even witches, much like doctors, had elitist pricks among their kind - and Odette had the audacity to simply vanish whenever one of those robed people set foot in the shop, leaving me to use all my mental strength to try and not strangle the wannabe Karens.

I was willing to bet my favourite star-patterned scarf that Wong hexed the waiters who made him wait longer that he considered appropriate. I just knew it.

The anger, the frustration and at times, blind, total rage came in useful - and that was a surprise to me. According to Odette's notebooks, everyone had the potential to master magick - to an extent, each individual's threshold was, well, individual - but the more a witch was in tune with her emotions, her feelings, the higher the success rate of her spells grew.

The notebooks contained enough information for me to understand that Odette was considered a High Priestess (not to be confused with Head of the Coven - not all witches wanted to be a part of those) and the amount of power she held was quite impressive. No, she couldn't turn back time, she couldn't raise the dead; the people she helped and healed were, oftentimes, made well at the expense of her own life energy. It was an endless cycle of emptying a glass and refilling it back up. The deities lended a hand with that.

Some time after I'd gone through the theory, Odette encouraged me to choose a direction I was to study in depth; much like her, I was interested in the defensive rather than the offensive. Healing spells, protection wards and the occasional light hex to deter enemies from reoffending: I was disappointed but not surprised to learn the fact that curses and serious harm done to other people quite often backfired, harming the caster themselves as well as their victim.

I had always believed in karma, to a healthy extent, but these days I was that much more aware of how I treated those around me. That's not to say I became a pushover - I simply chose to smile rather than frown at the world and replaced my longing and envy with a sense of gratitude towards the things I already possessed. Just like Odette had said, layering the spiritual values over my material, earthly ones wasn't easy - it was hard work, and what prevented me from stopping when I felt exhausted was that it actually paid off.

As I got ready to cast my first serious spell, I ran through a mental checklist of things I developed - of sorts. Positive vibes only. Having vengeful intentions when warding off potential harm-doers was not only dangerous, it was counterproductive. Intentions mattered the most when casting a spell and I could end up killing all the innocent, stray cats in the area instead of making a burglar choose the neighbouring building some five months down the line.

The spell, I considered to be a success. The atmosphere in my home lightened, the dingy walls of my rental started radiating comfort and safety I hadn't felt since moving out of my parents' home. A slight tiredness persisted for a few days after the last candle burned out; Odette reassured that it was perfectly normal as I was a baby witch and my energy channels were adapting, growing to accommodate my newfound awareness and flow of cosmic energies that I was training to harness.

Next on my list was a personal protection charm, an antique silver locket adorned with stars I had scavenged in a local pawn shop. Odette had given me instructions on how to cleanse potential magical conductors: the amount of rings and jewelry she wore directly correlated to the power of a singular spell she could cast. There was a fine hairline between charging your accessories and letting them drain you and I learned to walk South of it the hard way, but as all learning processes go, eventually I found my middle ground and was successful.

My daily routine grew small rituals like the forest trees grew moss. Slow and steady, I was transitioning from a curious baby witch into a self-sufficient practitioner of magic. Sounds crazy, I know, coming from someone who could barely believe into aliens until Thor himself had walked into the coffee shop and ordered a latte, but as all things do in life - I changed.

Working the morning shift allowed me to discreetly place a few of the good-luck charms I had made during my most recent creative stint. While they didn't have a direct effect on the customers or their tipping habits, the atmosphere on the cafe's premises had lightened enough that even Jeremy's usually sour face tipped more towards neutral these days.

The smile blossomed on my face without effort as I caught the tell-tale bespoke suit and sunglasses of the man waltzing through the doors of the café as if he owned the place. "Nice to see you, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your vacation?" I asked the smirking man, giving a respectful once-over to the tall, lithe man holding onto his shoulder.

"It's Tony," the happiness was radiating off him in waves. "Missed my favourite coffee shop and the world's nicest barista," he winked at me, causing the man behind him snort, steely blue eyes studying me in turn. "Had to introduce my two favourite people," the engineer took a step back, parting his arms with a flourish gesture. "Stephen, Starlight. Starlight, Stephen," he spoke before rattling off his usual order. And a cake on top.

I gave an amused grin to the man obviously humoring his significant other, as Stephen mock-bowed in my direction. "You're right, how could we be together without the approval of your favourite barista?" Stephen had his wits. I decided I definitely liked him. "Starlight? Is that a nickname or were your parents hippies?" Okay, witty bordering on rude. Was Stephen a lawyer?

"Now, now, honey," the crinkles around Tony's eyes deepened as he barked out a laugh. "No need to be jealous. We're all adults here, we can share. There's enough of me for everyone."

I rolled my eyes, easily slipping into the familiar banter. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Stark. I'm very selfish," I cocked an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side and pretending to size up Stephen. "You've outdone yourself this time," Stephen's eyebrows rose. The line between 'sizing up' and 'checking out' was so very fine and I walked it well, a quiet sort of confidence that had bloomed within me at the recent events in my life letting me be slightly bolder that allowed myself to be before. "I'd have to be the Devil myself to break up such a blessed union. My congratulations," my smirk grew into a warm smile as Tony beamed at me in return, content on showing off his most recent acquisition.

Who, by the way, looked a little bit lost. Evidently, Stephen did not expect such a degree of familiarity between me and Tony; which was, to be honest, most likely what had him returning to the establishment over and over. Come for the coffee, stay for the company. Or how was it?

The energy between Tony and Stephen was electric. There was something undoubtedly attractive, magnetic even, about the tall, steely-eyed man, something similar to Odette's charismatic pull but without the overwhelming ossification of the air around her. Even putting aside the fact that Stephen was a visually stunning person with his sculpted phisique and high, sharp cheekbones, he commandeered the attention to himself without even uttering a word. Definitely a lawyer, with how the type could hold the whole courtroom together with a single look.

The early birds on a Friday were few and in-between; the three of us chatted as the two men sipped their coffees with muted noises of joy. According to Tony, Fiji was delightful this time of the year. Oblivious to everything around him, the engineer rambled about his ventures without a care in the world as his partner looked up to him with earnest happiness and I- well, I wished I could go to Fiji, hot boyfriend optional. The weather in NYC was slowly becoming dreary: I did not look forward to winter sludge and the traffic congestions that it created.

"And I love what you've done with the interior. Those cat statues? Charming," Tony rambled, pointing out the good-luck charms I'd placed all over the café. Small knick-knacks I carefully selected to match the overall vibe of the room. "Tell Jeremy I send my regards. Appreciate the lack of paps, too," he winked at me, looking visibly relieved.

"Huh?" The rag in my hands froze. "I haven't seen a single paparazzi around here, since, like, ever," I admitted, puzzled.

"And I appreciate it. Ever since our thing became public knowledge, they've been hounding me wherever I go," the eyeroll Tony made was truly powerful. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it," and again, the engineer winked at me, apparently having made some assumptions of his own. "I won't tell if you won't."

The puzzlement persisted within me all throughout my shift. I lived in NYC, for fuck's sake, I wasn't unfamiliar with how things ran around here.

Every establishment I worked in had been swarmed with the annoying, persistent celebrity hunters at some point - and yellow press and paparazzi were, by far, the worst. Some of the greedier ones could go as far as to shove simple folk out of the way or order a cup of coffee with their camera hiding under the tablecloth to sneak in a juicy picture of a celebrity just trying to have their brunch in peace. I hated those vultures with a passion; their negative energy, their lack of morals when it came to hunting for a new scandal that would make them a few hundred bucks.

The only way to even slightly deter them was to repeatedly call the cops on them for public disturbance. I'd done it once or twice, egged on by Jerry and his worry of losing profit - after all, there were establishments known specifically for high rates of celebrity sightings and if any of the superheroes wanted to make an appearance, they would just go there for their cup of overpriced coffee and defrosted sponge cake. Our café was strictly for comfort and leisure - a rare thing me and my boss actually agreed upon.

As I said warm goodbyes to my favourite engineer and his newfound, dashing boyfriend, the cat statues stared at me in mute satisfaction, their hollow eyes radiating smugness and their immobile mouths stretched in what looked like pure, mocking mischief.

Taglist is open until the story is finished. Spare comment? 🥺

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #Tony Stark x you #Stephen Strange x you

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] M I N G I ⥗ baby daddy au

HIS DAUGHTER NEEDS HIM & SO DO YOU. MAFIA MINGI.

warnings: may contain triggering content.

a/n: I think this whole series is just gonna be a mafia spin off at this point 😂😂 ya’ll like it so much. let me know yeah?

• “Y/n, go home.”

• you lift your head up from your desk and see the time’s passed when you’d want it to be.

• going home an option..

• although not an option you can take just like that.

• “I can’t.” you blink your tired eyes open again. “Minhee’s staying with my mom this weekend. I can finally pick up some more hours.”

• “Sweetie,” your coworker slips over a hot cup of coffee. “You need to go home. Take a vacation— I don’t know. Just not the same body breaking routine of working for your baby and settling on take out chinese. Sweetie, you need to go home.”

• her words cut like knives.

• being no more than the truth rather than comfort.

• because you stopped loving home.

• stayed at work more than at home.

• and it’s for your daughter.

• working your ass off is for your daughter.

• even if you had to sacrifice your wants and needs,

• you’ll do anything for your daughter.

• “Mom, I have to stay a little late today.”

• she’s hesitant to reply,

• gun to her hip as a familiar man plays with your baby,

• whimpering at the speaker hoping you could hear the desperation in her voice.

• “Sweetie, why don’t you come home early tonight?” she shakily says eyes shut when the gun’s gently forced to her ribs. “Please, y/n. Minhee misses you.”

• you don’t spare another thought. “I have to finish this paper, mom. Just one more night.”

• “I can’t have her for one more night, you have to come home. I need a break too.”

• you’re silent for that one.

• knowing your mom is well aware of your present distress.

• always hoped you’d give yourself what you really deserve.

• tries her best to give what she can, even if you say she can’t.

• because she’s a mom.

• and mothers know best.

• “I’m on my way.” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temple. “You can tell them to let you go, ma. I’ll be there soon.”

• she sighs in relief.

• hoping one day you’d make amends with yourself.

• hoping one day your ex boyfriend would make amends with you.

• “If you needed a babysitter, why didn’t you just tell me?”

• you roll your eyes taking Minhee away from his warm embrace. “Stay away from my daughter, Mingi. And that goes for your friends too. Stay away from my family.”

• Mingi’s in headspace whenever he’s with you—

• always.

• being the only woman to ground him at his worst.

• a woman he once loved.

• until the day you forgot what love meant.

• worked too hard and thought too hard against him,

• what he means to you and your daughter.

• what you and Minhee mean to him.

• “She’s just as much as family to me as she is to you.” he stands up and follows you, his men turned for sake of privacy. “You can’t keep me from her forever.”

• you whip around harshly. “I will keep her from you as long as I’m able.”

• it hurts him to see you so burdened.

• to see you so locked up in chains.

• when you deserved the world since the beginning.

• never sure how he ended up with you in the first place.

• “I can protect her.” he insists voice raging out of frustration. “Believe me, I can do better than what you think I can do.”

• “My daughter doesn’t need a man like you to do anything for her.”

• “For fucksake, y/n. She’s my daughter too!”

• but you have too much pride.

• too much fear around Mingi.

• afraid he’d love someone else while loving you—

• afraid that who he was, could stop him from loving you.

• “Get out of my house.”

• Mingi lets out a strangled breath before snapping at his friends for space.

• it’s not until you put Minhee to bed that things get too heated.

• another day of a broken relationship undergoing attempted repair.

• “Stop pushing me away.”

• you turn to look at the father of your baby,

• a man who loved Minhee as much as you.

• “Why do you want her so much?” your voice breaks when you ask. “So you take her, theoretically okay. You take her and then what? She grows up learning the trades you do? Grows up learning her father would give up blood sweat and tears for something that’s not even for her?”

• “Why do you keep making me out to be this worthless heartless man? Someone you never loved? Not even worth being her father?” his tongue hisses between his teeth seeing red when you speak. “I’d do anything for her. And I’ve made that very clear.”

• maybe you’re just jealous.

• possessive over the both of them.

• you can’t just share them.

• you think letting Mingi go was the right decision for you.

• that keeping Minhee to yourself wasn’t selfish at all.

• you don’t know how to share two different kinds of love.

• it’s selfish actually.

• how you’re afraid that somehow someway they’d both end up not loving you.

• “You used to leave me for your life,” you keep your voice hushed as you argue with the love of your life. “The days I wanted your attention, you’d find something else to think of. What would make having Minhee any different than it was when you had me?”

• his eyes search you.

• heart racing and body hot—

• still obviously very in love with you.

• curses his life day after day for it being such a ridicule against what he really wants.

• he just wants to be with you.

• wants you to be happy.

• wants to be with Minhee too.

• “I love you and my daughter.” Mingi cups your face between the palm of his hands. “No matter how many times I told you I loved you, you never believed me. And it’s fine if you don’t, y/n. It’s fine if you can’t accept my love for you anymore. But don’t take my daughter away from me. Don’t force her to reject me the way you do.”

• god only knows how much you really love Mingi.

• how your heart hurts every day not being able to have him the way you want—

• to have and hold a man that loves you and your family unconditionally.

• you just want to be happy.

• you just want Minhee to be happy too.

• “I’m taking my daughter away from what you do.” you whisper tear rolling down your face. “Not from you.”

• some days he’ll stay.

• some days he’ll be too busy to stay.

• or some days, he can’t be the Mingi you fell in love with.

• he can’t be Minhee’s father everyday.

• and that’s something Mingi can’t understand.

• you don’t want to reject him.

• most of the time, he rejects the both of you.

• “Come on, Minhee. Stop crying baby. Mommy’s here.”

• you’re on the verge of tears at this point.

• two hours now of your daughter’s helpless crying and trying to flee from your weak arms.

• you’re tired.

• you’ve been a mother alone for too long and you honestly do need a break.

• Minhee feels your stress and she feels tired when she’s with you.

• your daughter hurts when you do.

• and when she hurts, she looks for one person to hold her.

• her father.

• cause it’s not helping when it’s with you.

• “M-Mingi, please come home.” you cry airily through the phone like your life depends on it. “Mingi I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.. I can’t live like this anymore.”

• Mingi goes to Minhee first.

• and it’s just father instinct.

• how easy it is for your daughter to sleep against his big chest like it’s the fluffiest pillow in the world.

• but you’re alone when he’s with her.

• you’re crying in the bathroom almost ready to give up.

• tired of not being good enough.

• tired of feeling like you’re not loved enough.

• tired of knowing you don’t love people enough.

• Mingi hands his daughter to his friends realizing you haven’t left the bathroom for two hours.

• hopelessly throws his body against the door,

• until he finally breaks it open to find you unconscious on the floor.

• “Y/n.” he lifts you in his arms as you open your eyes to look at him, deep sunk and tired. “Please stop pushing me away.”

• you lean against the warmth of his chest.

• like he’s the fluffiest pillow in the world.

• “Please, y/n.. stop pushing me away.”

• you wake up feeling warm.

• the sound of Minhee’s favorite cartoon playing over playful laughter.

• you groggily walk towards the homey sounds to find Mingi suiting up to leave with your mom wrapped around your daughter at the couch.

• “Where are you going?” you stop him before he goes,

• Minhee confused and seeming unaware her father was attempting to flee in the first place.

• “I was just..” he swallows down his thoughts. “I have something I need to do.”

• of course you’re disappointed.

• you don’t ever want him to leave.

• so your baby girl runs into your arms reaching for her father too.

• crying for him to stay for the both of you.

• “Y/n, honey, let Mingi go.” your mom butts in. “He’s been here since yesterday and hasn’t had any sleep either.”

• you’re definitely selfish this time.

• cause people shouldn’t just force others to do things against their own will.

• but you know it’s what your baby girl wants.

• for him to stay just as much as you do.

• “If you decide to leave, you come back.” you demand at the father of your child. “You come home. And you come home to me and Minhee, do I make myself clear?”

• your mother smiles to herself while your daughter climbs into Mingi’s arms.

• Mingi speechless when you actually let her,

• stumbling when he replies, “Y-you want me to come back?”

• “I want you to come home.”

• you slowly lean up towards the tall dangerous man you used to love,

• bringing a soft kiss to his shocked parted lips.

• “I want you to come back home to me. And I want you to come back home to your daughter, Song Mingi.”

@atinybitofau

#ateez #ateez song mingi #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #ateez preferences #ateez mafia au #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshots #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi reactions #mingi baby daddy au #ateez baby daddy au #mingi oneshot #mingi x reader #mingi mafia au

[phantoms-lair]

The Phantom Detective Redux Chapter 3

“Vultures, that’s definitely Vlad’s work.” Danny glared at the ceiling. He wished the little girl who also spoke English had told him that over the phone. He could have been flying around trying to find them instead of wasting time getting here. 

In all of the mess of last night with him accidently turning Conan into a halfa (and wasn’t THAT unsettling? Was that a new power he could just do? Could Vlad?), he’d never gotten a clear answer as to why Vlad was after Conan.

Like, yeah the kid was scary smart, but Danny hadn’t realized it until he’d spoken to him and as far as he’d known Vlad hadn’t. And his initial guess that it was because he was the detective's son (in an attempt to blackmail said detective) was dashed by Conan admitting he was under a ‘witness protection program’. He doubted Vlad wouldn’t have done the research to show that.

He needed to find some way to keep him safe, but most of the methods he knew for keeping malevolent ghosts out weren’t exactly safe for Halfa use. Which Conan was now for unknown reasons.

He could think about that later. Right now he needed to track the vultures, save his fellow Halfa and-

His train of thought was interrupted by the door slamming open and the girl he had saved yesterday from Skulker storming in with Conan in her arms. She did not look happy.

This was borne out as she began yelling at them in Japanese, only for the small girl to say something involving his name.

“I don’t speak Japanese, but I am very fluent in being thrown under the bus.” Danny said with a mild glare as the angry girl turned on him.

~

The short walk to the Professor’s (it hadn’t been very far) had given Ran more than enough time to build up a heady steam of indignation. As much as she wanted to shake Conan-Shinichi and demand answers, she couldn’t do that right now. He wasn’t waking up, which scared her and fed her anger even more.

Shinichi had been lying to her. And Agasa had been helping him. And if one couldn’t give her answers, the other would.

She barely stopped to kick off her shoes as she marched in the door. The Professor was there with Ai-chan and someone she didn’t know. In any other circumstance, she’d be more discrete, but she was done.

“Hakase, why did I just see Shinichi turn into Conan?  Why did he look so strange? What else have you been keeping from me?” 

Everyone in the room looked at her in shock. Surprisingly, it was Ai-chan who spoke first. “Danny did something weird to him. We don’t understand what.” ‘Danny’ glared at her and said something in English. That was all the impetus Ran needed to turn on him. “What did you do to Shinichi?”

He responded in English again. Ran wasn’t doing badly in her lessons, but he spoke too fast and she was too flustered to translate.

Cona-Shinichi held protectively in her arms, she lashed out with her right leg. The boy ducked back, still shouting in English. Ran shifted her weight and struck again. 

The kick should have smacked him in the head, if not for the fact that his head detached from his shoulders, floating half a foot above. There were twin thuds as Ran misstepped her landing and Haibara fell to the floor in a dead faint. Agasa didn’t look much better himself.

Danny reached up, grabbed his head, and pulled it back onto his shoulders. Conan was still out cold and the only other English speaker had fainted. Great.

He looked to the Professor in a silent plea for help while the kicky girl just looked at him in terror. The Professor looked at him with a bit of fear in his eyes, but he turned to the girl and began to speak. Danny only hoped they were friendly words.

~

"Ran-kun, I know was Danny-kun did was scary," And wasn't that underestimation. As much impossible as he had seen in the past day, that took things one step too far. "But he has been trying to help fix whatever it is he did."

"H-He's a monster!" Ran stammered, clutching Shinichi tighter to her.

Agasa winced. Not just for Danny's sake, but for Shinichi's as well. At least he hadn't been awake to hear it. "Danny-kun's not normal, it's true. But that doesn't make him evil."

"What is he?"

"A yūrei hanyou. At least that's as close a translation as Shinichi-kun and I got." Not much use in hiding that little tidbit when she'd seen him transform.

"You mean yōkai hanyou. A yūrei hanyou doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't and that's driven Shinichi-kun up the wall." Once quite literally. He'd paced to the end of the room and had gotten halfway up a wall before realizing what was happening. Gravity had temporarily reasserted itself, only for him to catch himself mid-fall, levitating a few inches above the floor before falling the rest of the way. But it didn't seem like a good idea to mention it at the moment. "That's the best translation we have though. Danny-kun doesn't speak Japanese."

Ran turned her attention to the harmless looking boy she's just seen decapitate himself. He was a monster and he'd done something to Shinichi, but apparently was trying to help? She needed answers so badly, but didn't think her English comprehension was good enough to understand them. She thought for a moment and cradling Shinichi in one arm she pulled out her phone. She typed a few moments then held up the screen for him to see. On one side was Japanese, on the other the words 'What did you do to him' 

He looked at the screen then pulled his own phone out of his pocket and began typing before showing her 'I think he absorbed some of my ectoprism. I don't know how. It's never happened before.' 

Ectoprism? Okay she didn't know that word. And somehow Shinichi absorbed it? 'What is ectoprism?' 

Danny assumed she meant ectoplasm. 'Basically the essence of ghosts. The accident pushed a lot into my DNA.' 

Ran felt a shiver down her spine at the idea of 'Ghost Essense' being shoved into someone's genetics. 'What kind of accident' She regretted it a moment later when he saw her question and just looked sad and uncomfortable. 

He was claiming to be part ghost, was she asking about his death? Was that a taboo subject? Somehow the question 'Are you dead?' didn't seem any better. So she switched her question. 'How did you make Shinichi a child?' 

He stared at her phone, but this time just looked confused. He fumbled with his phone a bit. 'What is a shinichi?'

She gave him a look and pointed at the child she was holding. He typed back and showed her 'Conan is a shinichi? I don't know why he was older. It was weird. Maybe it's because he's an adult for his age?

That gave Ran pause. Danny's answers had all been about ghostly things, none of it about Shinichi deaging. And the fact that he didn't seem to know his real name was even a name... "Hakase?" Ran asked in a dangerously sweet voice. "Is there a reason Danny-san, who I was just told was responsible for this, doesn't know Shinichi's real name, and in fact seems to think Conan-kun somehow aged up into Shinichi?" 

"Ah well, that is to say, the part Danny-kun's responsible for, that only happened last night." Agasa definitely looked nervous as he helped Ai onto her bed. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Okay, then why don't you tell me the rest of the story."

~

Well apparently whatever he'd said had been enough to turn her attention to the Professor. She was still mad, but not at him, so good? He had no idea what was going on, though. 

He wished he had someone with him that could help him explain and spoke Japanese and English and... Danny smacked himself in the face then hit a contact number on his phone. "Jazz, are you free? I need some help?" 

"Kisaki-san is talking to Mom so sure. Is this about Vlad?" 

"Kinda, but not really." Danny sighed. "So Vlad's been targeting this kid I thought was the detective's son-" 

"The one you thought could see right through you?" 

"...Yes, and you will understand once you meet him, but that's not the problem. The problem is I...kinda turned him into a halfa last night." 

There was silence on the other end, then "*What? Danny what the actual fu-wHAT DID YOU DO????”

"I just touched him Jazz. And it was like my transformation ring spread like fire over him." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "And now someone I think is his older sister is here, and I'm using google translate to try and explain, and there's something else going on she's mad at this professor guy over and...Jazz I need help." He heard her sigh over the phone. 

"Send me your address, I'll be right there."

Danny hung up and texted her the number. He looked over to the girl and Professor, they were talking about something, something that seemed serious. Also that word shinichi kept popping up. It had something to do with Conan, and he really wished he could find a translation.

~

The more Agasa talked, the more Ran wanted to scream. She felt hurt, used. She looked at the child who wasn't still wrapped in her arms. She wanted to rage at him, but he still wouldn't wake up and that kept an undercurrent of worry beneath all her anger. 

"Was this all just a game to him? A joke I was too stupid to figure out?" 

"Ran-kun no he..." Agasa looked at the still unconscious Shinichi. "You've never seen the back and forth. It's torture. He used to scream..." Agasa shut his eyes. In a way he hated that Shinichi had become so used to the pain he didn't anymore. “There was a very real chance each transformation would kill him. As it is, he has permanent heart damage, barring this whole ghost thing that none of us understand." 

"If Shinichi-kun were truly selfish, he could have started over. Left everything behind and began a new life. That would have been the smartest thing he could have done. But he clung to the one thing that made his old life worth keeping. He clung to you, because you were the most important thing he has. And he'd rather face death then leave you behind. He never took a cure without the intent to see you."

But Agasa was wrong. She had heard the screams. In the diplomat’s house, and after the case where Shinichi was being impersonated. She’s always convinced herself they were nothing, since nothing appeared to be wrong afterwards, but that sound had shaken her.

And Shinichi was still Shinichi after that last incident, which meant after being in that pain he’d immediately gone through it again

 “How are you sure? About the heart damage?” Ran asked quietly.

Agasa was quiet for a moment. “Ai-kun had a bad cold and started to feel pain in her stomach. The doctor wanted to do an ultrasound to check her organs, but she was scared, so Conan volunteered.” He didn’t mention that this had been carefully orchestrated. Not the illness or the kidney infection, but when Ai realized she might get an ultrasound she got the idea to give them a chance to check Shinichi’s internal organs in a way she normally couldn’t.

If the technician hadn’t been focused on the frightened little girl and looking at the screen when she held the scanner over Shinichi’s chest…

“I saw the scarring myself, on the ultrasound screen.” Agasa was very solemn. “He’s been cut off from the temporary cures since, but with so much damage already done-”

“Dai-job-boo-dee-sooka?”

They turned and saw Danny, looking at his screen. He was frowning as though he knew the pronunciation of whatever he was trying to say was off. Finally just turned his phone around so they could see what he was trying to say. Daijōbu desu ka Are you okay?

No, she was very much not okay. She fumbled for a moment with her own phone, now even less willing to put him down. ‘Conan’s heart is hurt’

Danny frowned. The kid was a bit young for romantic heartache so - oh. Oh no.

His face must have given something away, because her eyes narrowed. ‘What’

‘I had a bad idea’ he typed back. He didn’t want to say more, but the look she gave him demanded it. ‘Ectoplasm should not affect a normal person, but if he was probably very close to death’

The response hit Ran in the gut harder than any of the blows she’d taken during her matches. Whatever Danny had done to Shinichi had happened because Shinichi was dying. And he was dying because he refused to give her up.

A sudden knocking at the door startled them all. Danny brightened and ran for the door. 

Ran and Agasa shared a confused look.

Danny came back with a young woman with bright red hair. "Hello, you must be Conan's older sister." The girl said in clear, but accented Japanese. "My name's Jazz, Danny's my little brother, he called me to help." 

"Your brother?" Ran asked, even as she inwardly shrunk at the reminder of Danny still being under the misconception she had been until not to long ago. "Are you...like him?" 

"One hundred percent normal human, if that's what you're asking." Jazz reassured. "But I've been helping my brother adapt for the past years, so I'm very familiar with what's going on." Of course the early days were her weak spot, as she hadn't known till about two months later, and hadn't been let in on everything till the stupid test incident. 

"Do you know why he won't wake up?" Ran asked in a small voice. 

Jazz asked Danny something in English, then nodded and turned her attention back to Ran. "Basically his system didn't have the ectoplasm reserves for what he tried to pull off to escape the creature that kidnapped him-" 

The what that did what now? How many loops was she being left out of?

 "-and his body strained itself trying to maintain. He'll sleep until his ectoplasm levels are back at a safe amount. The first time Danny tried pulling a stunt like that, he was out for four hours." 

"His ectoplasm levels? I don't understand. Danny-san said that he'd absorbed some ghost-essence from him but..." 

Jazz pinched her nose. "Right. Google translate. Okay, so normally ectoplasm, the 'Ghost-Essence', has no effect on humans whatsoever. But there are rare cases that involve a lot of ectoplasm and a fair amount of electricity that can alter a human body to the point where their mitochondria start creating it instead of the usual oxygen based chemical energy. This causes the person to exhibit certain ghost-like traits."

"Yūrei hanyou." Ran whispered. 

"In a nutshell." Jazz agreed, making note of the term. She'd take it over halfa, if for no other reason that Vlad must have approved of the term for it to be bandied about so much. 

And now Ran understood what Danny had done. No wonder he'd had trouble explaining it, the concept shouldn't exist. This wasn't some one and done magical side effect of absorbing some ectoplasm from Danny, something that shouldn't have even happened if he hadn't been dying by inches. 

Co-Shinichi was in the process of becoming a yūrei hanyou. That's why he'd looked so strange as Shinichi. Unbidden, every scary story about people becoming monsters flooded her mind. No. No she could not focus on that because obviously it wasn't true. Danny still had a close connection to his human family. His big sister had stood by him, she'd have to too. 

(Though she had no idea how to define her relationship to him at the moment)

 "I can answer any questions you have, but we might want to wait until he wakes up, I'm sure he has a bunch too." Jazz continued on, unaware of all the thoughts running through Ran's head. 

"He speaks English, wouldn't Danny have-"

Jazz let out a frustrated puff of air. "Oh I have no doubt brother dearest tried explaining. But Danny's not," she glanced at her brother, "he's not the most adept at explaining things even when they're not deeply personal and he's not panicking all over the place, which it seems is what he's been doing. Not that he doesn't have reason. This nice family vacation has turned into a cluster." She sighed deeply. "But one thing I really need to impress is how important this is to keep a secret." 

Ran felt something dark curdle in her stomach. That sounded enough like what Agasa-hakase had been saying to bring the bitter feeling back. "Why?" 

Jazz clenched her hand worriedly. "Are you familiar with a law in America called the Anti-Ecto Act? It basically states that 'Ectoplasmic Entities', despite being sentient and sapient, are not living people and don't the same - or any- inalienable rights. And they don't differentiate between yūrei hanyou and true ghosts."

"If Danny was discovered, he'd be taken to a government facility. The Agents were boasting about all the painful experiments they were going to perform on him. Thankfully Danny convinced them they were wrong about him." She certainly wasn't going to go into the magic artifact with mind wiping capacity. 

“But for a short time we had proof of how people would react to a yūrei hanyou's existence. Those that knew him stood by him, but..to anyone else, he was just a monster, a threat. And I don't know if Japan has an equivalent to the Anti-Ecto Act, but I do know that you place a greater emphasis on conformity than America does. And yūrei hanyou definitely break that mold." 

Ran wanted to argue that Shinichi had never conformed to anything, not since preschool when he'd accused the teacher of trying to do something terrible to her. But she knew the difference between excelling and nonconforming, and the truth was Shinichi excelled, physically and mentally. 

This was very different. If word got out Conan was Shinichi, these mysterious people in Black Clothes would kill him. If word got out he was a yūrei hanyou, his life would be effectively over. It felt like balancing on the edge of a knife. Shinichi standing on tiptoe, trying to avoid falling into ruin. "How did your parents take it?" 

Jazz's expression darkened. "Our parents' work was instrumental in helping draft the Anti-Ecto Act."

"What? How could they?" 

"They don't know. Danny always insisted if they did, they'd change. They'd love him anyways. But it's been two years and he hasn't told them. I don't think he's ever going to. In some ways he feels safer with actual malevolent spirits that definitely mean him harm, because he knows they can't hurt him the same way Mom and Dad can." Emotionally or physically. "It's not healthy growing up and hearing your parents talking about how much they'd enjoy ripping apart beings like you 'molecule by molecule'."

Ran shuddered. Hearing it that way, it sounded like the ghosts weren't the scary ones in this scenario. And if Jazz-san was right about Danny not being able to explain things well, Shinichi might have no idea of that added complication. "So what now?" 

"The first month to month and a half are going to be the roughest part. His body doesn't know what to do with its ectoplasm, and will have trouble regulating its use. This results in ghost powers that randomly go off, especially in time of high emotions. After that he'll be able to control it more, no more passing out, for example, since his powers will simply fail rather than push him past his limits. Or accidental power usage. Once he hits the two month mark, he'll be fine, it'll just be a bit awkward until then."

Two months. She could keep it together for two months. “Is there any way to wake him up?” She asked. It helped being told this was normal, but not as much as him waking up would.

“We always let Danny sleep it off, although…” Jazz trailed off as she thought for a moment. “Would you be willing to let Danny hold him?”

“Why?” Ran was loath to let Shinichi go, and moreso to Danny, who was the  reason Shinichi was turning into a yūrei hanyou in the fist place. 

“His body needs ectoplasm right now, and barring letting it generate naturally in his cells, Danny’s the only other source we have.” Jazz explained calmly. 

It made sense and she hated it. She held Conan a little closer and almost screamed as Danny suddenly changed in a burst of white light. The last thing she wanted to do was hand Conan over but…

But she’d seen those green eyes and white hair before. On Shinichi. Danny and Shinichi were the same, being afraid of one would be being afraid of the other, and she couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of Shinichi like that.

She reluctantly handed him over. Danny cradled him and his arms began to glow green.

Before she could change her mind, Shinichi’s eyes blinked open and he looked around blankly. 

~

He felt...not warm, but it felt warm. Like in the laying in a sunbeam way, or being cozy in a blanket on a cold morning. But it wasn’t a temperature thing. It was weird.

He opened his eyes and saw Danny in his ghostly state. “Why are you holding me?” he asked dryly.

“More I’m recharging you.” Danny answered back in the same tone. He raised a glowing hand. “You used up all of your ectoplasm and knocked yourself out. Now that you’re back with us, hopefully your sister can calm down a bit. Also what’s a shinichi, she keeps using that word.”

His sister? Wait, he couldn’t mean… “Ran?”

“Who ran?” Danny asked, but Conan ignored him and looked around.

“Shinichi,” she said in a tone that meant the jig was well and truly up.

“Seriously, what does that mean?” Danny grumbled.

Conan gulped and flickered for a moment.

“Nope, gonna need you to stop that.” Danny chided him. “I know you can’t really help it at this point, but you’re still low on power.”

Conan was only half listening to him, half to the one person in the roof he didn’t know. “Invisibility and Intangibility tend to trigger as a fear response, and if he’s like Danny, he’s going to be on the verge of both of those until he’s more settled.” The young woman then turned to him. “Hello Conan, my name is Fenton Jazz. I’m Danny’s older sister and I’m here to hopefully explain things a little better.”

~

"Now keep in mind, the science of this isn't my main area of expertise, but between listening to my parents ramble my whole life, and helping Danny for the last two years-” Jazz began.  She’d gone into full lecture mode. Ran and Agasa were sitting on the couch with Haibara between them, and Conan between Ran and a once more human Danny.

“- I've picked up a few things. Now mind you some of this will be theoretical, but I'll let you know when those things come up and - Danny are you falling asleep?" The last part was said in English.

"I don't speak Japanese Jazz, I'm not going to get anything from your lecture because I can't understand a word of it. Yesterday sucked and Vlad could be doing something at any moment, plus I was just used as a human battery. Lemme rest."

She rolled her eyes. "Ignoring my brother, let's go back to what makes a ghost." 

"Death." Said Haibara bluntly. 

"Yes, but also no. While the death of a living thing is certainly the most common way ghosts are formed, not all deaths created ghosts, nor are all ghosts the result of something dying. The real answer is ectoplasm.” 

“A living being is made up of two parts, a body and soul. Bodies are well documented, souls less so. They're not physical and made up of what I'm going to call, for lack of a better term, spiritual energy. When a living being dies usually the soul passes over or dissipates - we've got nothing to help figure that out so we're not dwelling on it. But very rarely it doesn't. Instead the spiritual energy in the soul is converted to ectoplasm and the being becomes a ghost." 

"Unlike spiritual energy, Ectoplasm is..." Jazz faltered for a word. "It's more in your face. Where the soul can't be seen, ectoplasm can't help but express itself. It can be solid or ephemeral, and can mimic any state of matter. It's potential can be almost limitless, however the potential in each individual ghost is limited."

"All ghosts have a core, which is a bit to a ghost what a soul is to a living being. Though it's a part of them, it can't be seen or extracted." Her parents had tried, which she didn’t like dwelling on. "But is ineffably a part of them. The core also functions a bit like a nucleus, as it defines what a ghost’s focus is, what powers they have, and their inherent nature. As a ghost's appearance tends to be a reflection of their self image, that can change over time. But the only way to alter a ghost’s core is by forcing them to experience something literally soul shattering. This...it's something that will never end well and that's all I'll say on the matter." She'd seen it happen to Danny in another timeline and she'd never let anyone go through that if she could help it. 

"There are two more kinds of ghosts, but they're not what you want me to be here for, so I'm just going to touch on them briefly. Throw-offs are ghosts that are created by the will of other ghosts, formed of their own ectoplasm but as an independent being. Penelope Spectra, the ghost of an abusive psychologist, created a throw-off named Bertrand to act as her personal assistant. Likewise the self-styled 'Captain Youngblood', the ghost of someone who died as a small child created a parrot to act as both playmate and parental figure. Both of them can shapeshift to better suit their creator's needs, though without a larger sample size I can't say if that's a coincidence or a common trait of Throw-offs."

"The final kind are what I call Spontaneous. The limbo ghosts tend to be stuck in unless they find a way to the world of the living seems to be made primarily of ectoplasm and sometimes unlife just happens. This can range from barely sentient blobs, such as ectopusses, to beings of comparable human intelligence, like Skulker, whom you met yesterday. But for now let's move on to the rarest ectoplasmic beings, which is what you actually need to learn about. Halfas, or as you called them yūrei hanyou."

Jazz motioned to the small boy sitting between Ran and the now snoozing Danny. "Conan-kun here is the fourth to ever exist, as far as we can tell. We only have minor observational data from the first, the third was a special case, so mostly what I'm going on is Danny, since he and his friends have been cataloging data practically since day one." 

Agasa nodded, pleased they had thought to do so. 

"So yūrei hanyou are usually created by a living person being ground zero for a rift between worlds opening due to ectoplasm being charged with an incredibly powerful electrical current. And by which I mean ‘could kill several people in seconds’ powerful. Thankfully the ectoplasm changes it enough that the person exposed enters what I call the 'Schrödinger State'." 

"Alive and dead at the same time." Conan said darkly. 

Jazz nodded. "The person's spiritual energy is fully converted to ectoplasm without the soul separating from their body. This gives you access to a ghost form. In addition, as I explained to Ran-san earlier, the mitochondria in each cell are producing ectoplasm instead of it’s normal adenosine triphosphate, which allows you to manifest ghost powers in your human form. But your body hasn’t learned how to regulate it yet. That's why you're unstable right now. Not helping that is because of the energized ectoplasm that creates them, yūrei hanyou are by default some of the most powerful ghosts in existence."

"Really?" Ran asked with some trepidation. She didn't like hearing about ghosts, though the more lecture-like nature of Jazz as opposed to Sonoko's scary stories made it more palpable. 

"As I said, despite what living in Amity Park might have you believe, becoming a ghost is really really rare. Much less than 1% of people who die become ghosts and those who do are mostly weak enough that if they make it to the land of the living they can't be seen, heard, or affect anything. Most ghosts need to find a way to siphon energy from elsewhere to boost themselves enough to do anything. Some feed off human emotions, others find a nexus point saturated in ectoplasmic energy. But the process can take years to decades depending on the abundance of the source. And that level of power, the type that takes decades to achieve. That's your starting point."

"Power absorbed through the environment or emotions is reliable, but temporary. They would constantly need to recharge to maintain a steady output." Hence Spectra's need to feed the misery that fed her. Without a flowing source her power consumption far outstripped what her core was capable of. "That's not to say ghosts can't become more powerful in their own right, just that it's not a quick process." 

"Here's where we're entering some of the more theoretical stuff, namely how Ghosts can permanently raise their power. One theory is self awareness. Ghosts who are the result of dead humans tend to be composed of memories and emotions from when they were alive. And that in better understanding those, they deepen their own abilities. I won't say it's untrue, but as many ghosts wouldn't have the patience for it, it would be at least highly uncommon." 

"Some, shall we say, rather biased individuals believe ghosts can strengthen themselves through human suffering. They are wrong. While ghosts can feed off human emotions, including negative ones, as we established before it's a temporary fix. Then we get to the theory I have the most faith in. Obsession fulfillment." 

"What fulfillment?" Conan asked, startled.

Jazz winced. She was used to this part being common knowledge. "I mentioned ghosts tend to be made of emotions and memories. Usually there's something tying it all together into a drive. This drive, usually referred to as a fixation or obsession, is central to the ghost's being and usually forms their identity to a greater degree." 

"It's...easier for yūrei hanyou. It's there, but more of a compulsion than an all consuming drive. Something they can choose to ignore, but it won't necessarily be easy to do." 

"So I'm going to develop one of these?" Conan's voice was small. 

Ran snorted. "Going to? You've been obsessed with mysteries and mystery solving since at least kindergarten. I really doubt there's going to be a noticeable difference."

"Going back to before,” Jazz continued, though it would be cute if Conan-kun’s thing was solving mysteries to be like his father, “it's my personal theory that the best way for ghosts to grow their core is by successfully doing whatever their fixation is focused on. It also explains the growth difference between Vlad and Danny." 

Conan had been looking like he was halfway between sulking and being relieved, but he shot straight up at the mention of their culprit. "How so?" 

"Vlad's fixation is about having things. Once he had his powers stable, it was easy for him to just take whatever he wanted through force or trickery. He's only been active twenty some years, but his power levels had risen to a degree it takes most ghosts centuries to obtain. Talking with other ghosts I've been able to chart a pretty steady growth - until two years ago." 

Conan raised an eyebrow at Jazz's self satisfied smile. "What happened two years ago?" 

"Vlad found three things he couldn't obtain through money or power. Ownership of the Green Bay Packers, since they can't be owned by an individual by their charter. The love of his college sweetheart, since Mom has standards. And for Danny to love him like a father and hate our actual Dad. Don't think I have to explain why that's not happening. But because of those three things, he wasn't getting what he wanted. He tried to get them, but it didn't strengthen him since he never actually succeeded." 

"Danny's fixation is-" Jazz rolled her eyes fondly, "- being a hero. He's driven to help people who need help, even putting his personal safety at risk. It's something he sadly gets to indulge in often, sometimes multiple times a day. As a result Danny's growth has eclipsed Vlad to the point where he's almost caught up to Vlad's core power level in a mere two years." 

It was good to know there was a strong chance Danny could supersede Vlad in not too much time, at least on one playing field, but that brought up a new worry. "So if my thing is solving mysteries, and I solve them fairly frequently, this is going to get worse?"

"Worse is a bad way to think about it." Jazz said gently. "I won't say parts of it aren't going to suck, especially for the next month or so, but it's not all bad. However illogical they may be, powers are useful as long as you have control, and that's something you can have with a bit of work. Can you honestly tell me there's no time being invisible would have been useful as a detective? Or walking through walls would have made an escape easier?" 

He didn't like how easily past examples filled his head. Heck, if he's been invisible when spying on Vodka that night, he wouldn't be three feet high now. "I still don't like it." 

"Neither did Danny at first. In fact he downright hated it. But now it's so much a part of him, I don't think he'd know what to do if he got back to normal." Honestly probably get himself badly hurt trying to protect other people. "Do you want me to keep going, or is that enough for one day? I know it's a lot." 

"If there's nothing vital, I think I'm good." He had more than enough to dwell on. 

"I don't know if Danny's mentioned this, but be aware around things meant to ward against spirits, they can be uncomfortable." Jazz advised. "Other than that you should be good." 

Ran sighed and glanced at her watch. "We should probably go home. Dad will be getting worried."

"You go. I think I should stay here until I'm a bit more stable." Conan winced, "Imagine trying to explain any of this to him. And it's not like I can hide it." As if to prove his point, he started to sink into the cushions. 

"Danny wake up!" Jazz said sharply. Danny shot awake and rolled forward, ready for a fight. Jazz simply pointed to where Conan was stuck in the couch. He rolled his eyes and turned his arms intangible to pull him out. "Would it be okay if my brother stays too? He can help Conan and act as a defense if Vlad tries to silence him again." 

"Certainly. There's not a lot of extra bed space but there's somewhere Shinichi and he can go if needed." Agasa said

“Who’s Shinichi?” Jazz asked.

“There’s that word again,” Danny muttered.

There were awkward looks abound, but no one answered either sibling. Jazz sighed. “Unless you have anymore questions, I’ll see you tomorrow Danny.”

Danny blinked. “Tomorrow? Aren’t I going to the hotel with you?”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I just said you should stay with Conan to help him manage his powers and in case Vlad makes another attempt.”

That made sense but…”I’m guessing, like most of what you’ve been saying, you said it in Japanese. The language you know I don’t speak.” He grinned, knowing he had her.

Jazz stared at him a moment, then pinched her nose. “Point to you. I’m still heading out.”

“Wait,” Danny stopped her. “In your lecture did you mention Halfa’s regeneration ability?”

“No, and you really should start using yūrei hanyou, like they do.” Jazz advised.

Danny rolled his eyes. “And why would I want to change the only word I’ve had for myself for the past two years.”

“Do you really think all those ghosts would use a word to describe Vlad that he didn’t personally approve of?”

Okay, any distance between himself and Vald was good. “Okay, but seriously. Please tell her about yurry hanyo healing.”

“Yūrei hanyou,” Jazz corrected his pronunciation. “And they’ve all had to deal with a lot of new information at once. Non essential things-”

“It’s essential. Trust me.”

Danny looked so serious Jazz sighed and gave in. “Before I go, brother dearest wants me to go into a little more detail on one of the perks of being a yūrei hanyou, namely their healing capacity. Though not instantaneous, they do heal much faster than baseline humans and can recover completely from injuries humans never could without so much as a scar. I have a theory about how it’s related to their core, but that’s far from proven.”

Injuries...like heart scarring. Ran gave Danny a grateful look. “Thank you.” Both for telling her and...she may not have liked the idea of Shinichi becoming a weird ghost hybrid, but from what she’d been told earlier, it very well have saved his life.

Agasa and Ai shared a look of their own. They’d need confirmation but if that were true it would be a huge relief to both of them. Conan glanced around and read the reactions of everyone except for the honestly confused Jazz. “You told them.” He accused Agasa.

“Yes he did.” Ran confirmed.  “And I’m glad he did. And- we can talk about this later.” It was obvious Danny and Jazz didn’t know the truth about Shinichi and it wasn’t her place to tell them. “But rest assured, we will.”

Conan gulped and his form flickered again, before vanishing completely from sight.

“It’s a good sign your ectoplasm is regenerating.” Jazz said. “That being said, it’s obvious there’s something you’re not telling us, so if you’re trying to keep other people from figuring it out, you need to be better about the fact that you’re hiding a secret. I won’t ask what it is, we understand better than most how life or death a secret can be.  But at least one of your secrets isn’t just your own.” With that, she walked out.

Danny sighed heavily. “I really need to learn Japanese.”

#Phantom Detective #Danny Phantom #Detective Conan #Ghost Writing #I have so many theories of how halfa's work #And Jazz became my mouthpiece #Ran hasn't forgiven him #not completely #but it's a big step forward

[one-abuse-survivor]

A vent but also I need advice.

Recently I started getting super overwhelmed around my mother. Because every time I talk to her about anything she always starts ranting to me about her problems and how life is unfair. And SHE’S always done this. Always talked to me about her trauma from when I was really young and it traumatized me. She’s always treated me like I was HER therapist.

And I got fed up with it. And I’m in therapy myself f it amongst other things. So I told her when she was ranting at me where I couldn’t get away after she picked up after a stressful day at work and talking shit about family I loved. I told her that I loved her, but I couldn’t be a therapist for her. That she should get a therapist if she needs to talk about these things.

She exploded on me and started yelling about how no one loved her. How I was her child and I was supposed to love her! And how if I REALLY loved her I would do this for her without question!

And I repeated that I do love her but I can’t be that for her. And she started ranting about how she went to therapy but she never spoke to them because she couldn’t talk to them and tried up to bring up something extremely traumatizing that triggers me. And The Who situation triggered me so much.

And this happened again today. And I tried to change the subject to something fun like how I wanted to buy a new novel that I saw. And was about to explain it to her. And she yelled at me saying “You already have to much crap!” And I immediately shut down full force and wouldn’t say anything and she got even more angry with me. And tried to get me to talk about it but I told her it wasn’t important.

And she absolutely hates when I buy myself new things. Like completely. She’s so nasty whenever she sees I’ve bought something through the mail for myself or for someone else. And I don’t know why. It’s like she doesn’t want me to feel happy. And about how I have to much stuff. I just have trouble keeping my room clean because I’m so depressed. While my mom tends to hoard stuff in her room all the time. And I mean everything. Bathroom things and kitchen things. And then yells at us when we go in there because we’re messing with her stuff. And it just makes me upset. I don’t know why she does this. And I don’t know what to do.

I'm so sorry you're going through this, nonnie 😔 your mother reminds me so much of my own, and I really hope you know you're not asking too much by asking her not to use you as her personal therapist. You were never meant to be that for her, and her trauma and mental well-being are not your responsibility. I'm really proud of you for trying to establish these boundaries with her, and so sorry they turned into more abuse. You deserve so much better than this.

She might be struggling, but that doesn't entitle her to treat you however she wants and get mad at you for not meeting her emotional needs. She's the one responsible for meeting your physical and emotional needs, not the other way around. And her demanding you prioritise her at all moments, that you always listen when she needs to vent, and excusing her own behaviours with her trauma while punishing you for any behaviour that irritates her even slightly is very, very emotionally abusive.

And she definitely sounds like she needs a good therapist who can help her deal with her pain, but the problem with these kinds of parents (and people in general) is they don't usually want to heal. Their pain has become a tool: a shield to protect themselves from being held accountable, a weapon to throw at others when they feel unsafe or upset or inconvenienced. They don't usually vent to their kids because they haven't contemplated going to therapy, but rather because their previous therapists have told them things they didn't want to hear and have tried to hold them accountable, which I think feels to them like they're being attacked and called out for being the way "they are". Their pain has become such a big part of their identity they start believing that anyone who doesn't want to put up with them for being the way "they are", or who wants to change them, or who doesn't constantly prioritise their feelings and needs, is being unfair to them, selfish, and unreasonable.

I'm, of course, not saying this to make you feel pity for her, but because you said you didn't know why she did this, and, at least in my experience, this is why many parents act in these ways. I don't know your mother, though, so please always trust your perception of her above mine!

I wish I had advice on what to do in a situation like this, but the truth is you've already done more than I ever did when I went through this by attempting to be honest with her and set boundaries. All I can really do is encourage you to talk about her with your therapist, who will know more about your personal situation and might be able to offer some other ways to protect yourself from her or enforce your boundaries.

I also hope you know you're not doing anything wrong by buying yourself and your friends things, regardless of what she has to say about it. You do deserve to be happy and to do little things for yourself and others that will make you happy.

Sending a virtual hug ❤️

#ask #Abuse #Abuse tw #abusive mother tw #Emotional abuse tw #Emotional abuse #Verbal abuse #Child abuse #Trauma #Trauma tw #Depression tw #Vent #guilt tripping tw

[texanredrose]

Camellia Monochrome for an old friend?

Blake entered the throne room hurriedly, Weiss hardly two steps behind, and she only became more unnerved by what she saw. When the summons arrived, the faunus princess knew that it was important; her parents rarely sent an official messenger to find her and had never before specifically requested Weiss’ presence as well. It had to be something far outside the norm to prompt such and the full legion of royal guards flanking the throne room, decked out in full armor with their weapons on display. At the end of the hall on the dais, her parents sat on their thrones in full regalia, her father’s expression severe with his crown sitting low across furrowed brows while her mother appeared only slightly more at ease, her feline ears standing tall and far too still to be natural.

“Mom? Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Blake,” her father said, a heaviness to his tone. “We’ve received trouble news that may be... upsetting to hear but we believe it to be true.”

“We have diligently searched for any potential indication that there might be misinformation or falsehoods but there are none.” Her mother tilted her head slightly. “We have done our due diligence. You must listen to what we have to say.”

“Of course,” she replied, confused and uneasy.

With a heavy sigh, her father spoke again. “Your knight attendant was sent here to kill you. She’s an assassin, Blake.”

Although it probably shouldn’t, the accusation prompted relief and she couldn’t help but say the first thing that came to mind because of it. “I know that.”

In the silence that followed, one could hear a pin drop, if any dared to break it.

“You... know,” her mother finally said deliberately, ears twitching. “How long have you known?”

“Since a month after I arrived,” Weiss answered, waving off Blake’s attempt to do the talking. “I told Blake about my mission to assassinate the entire royal family when I realized I wouldn’t- and couldn’t- complete it.”

The royal guards surrounding them shifted uneasily, a few inching closer, looking to their king and queen for any sign that they should attack.

But the order didn’t come, even as her father’s expression became even more severe. “You’re bold to admit to such so openly.”

The woman shook her head. “No, for the same reason I can’t complete the mission I was charged with; it takes no courage to admit such here.” Then, she gave them a small, sad smile, the same one Blake had become rather familiar with during their time together. “All three of you... are kind, to a fault one might say. A hundred knights you have, this great show of force... but you would’ve had every right to arrest or execute me without so much as a word as to why. You didn’t do that. Because that’s not your way; you will defend yourselves but never take that first strike, even if it might save you from pain. So here we are, all truths laid bare, and a implicit understanding that if I raise my hand, your knights will react... but not a moment before.”

The King pressed his lips into a thin line. “Then, you must realize you will be banished from the kingdom-���

“Banished? For what?” Blake stepped forward, hands balling into fists. “She’s done nothing to warrant a banishment.”

“She’s literally an assassin, honey,” her mother gently said.

“A very poor one!” A pause as she turned her head. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Weiss wryly replied. “But they have a point. I’m a liability.”

“That’s not true.” Blake looked to her parents. “She told me the truth months ago; it was my decision to not tell either of you. Weiss has done nothing wrong.”

“Be that as it may, she did come here with the intent to kill us. That she’s changed her mind is... irrelevant.” Even as he said the word, she could tell her father didn’t like it and didn’t agree with the sentiment. It didn’t sit well with any of them, not when they spent so much time preaching and practicing forgiveness where applicable. “She’s an enemy of the crown.”

“I refuse to believe that.” She could feel her anger rising up, taking a step forward. “Does she not deserve a chance to redeem herself in your eyes?”

“Blake.”

With reluctance, she looked back, recognizing that tone of voice. It was the same one Weiss used whenever disagreeing so staunchly that no amount of discussion could sway her. Although a rarity nowadays, it came out whenever Blake suggested anything along the lines of reaching out to the woman’s family. Her refusal to complete the mission she’d been given had made her an enemy of her home kingdom and she could never return. There was no going back. “Weiss...”

Without responding, the woman strode forward towards the dais, stopping when the assembled knights began to fidget. Then, she knelt down and bowed her head. “I willingly submit myself to the judgment of the crown. My destiny is in your hands, Your Majesties.”

Her father shifted uncomfortably; it was always easier to enforce harsh penalties on the unrepentant because then it felt justified. Those who accepted their judgments with grace and dignity tugged at his desire to show mercy.

Her mother, however, seemed intrigued. “Your destiny? Not your fate?”

“There’s a difference?” The King muttered.

“Destiny is a function of choice; fate is beyond one’s individual control,” she replied. “And I believe you’re well read enough to know the difference.”

“I am, Your Majesty.” Weiss lifted her head and spoke with such a certainty that it made Blake hold her breath. “From the moment I met your daughter, I realized I was fated to love her and to be in love with her. My heart belongs to her completely and there’s nothing I can do to change that... nor would I want to, frankly. It is also my fate, then, to protect her from any harm; my very soul demands it.” A brief pause. “Whether or not I remain by her side... is a choice I can make. I could choose to defy your judgment and remain beside her but that would be the selfish option. Instead, I make the choice to continue loving her no matter what, no matter where I am, no matter if I ever see her again, and dedicate myself to keeping her safe from afar. If it is your decree that I am exiled, I choose to accept that destiny.”

Tears stung Blake’s eyes at the sincerity in the woman’s voice. While she’d lived all her life on the receiving end of unwavering, unconditional love, she knew Weiss hadn’t. For the woman to love so deeply- love her so deeply- touched her to the very core.

And she refused to let the declaration go unacknowledged.

Drawing her sword, Blake marched forward and walking around until she stood before Weiss, with her back to her parents. Blue eyes looked up at her questioningly but she didn’t hesitate, kneeling down and flipping the blade around, the tip of her it digging into the stone beneath them. “Draw your sword.”

“Blake-”

“Draw your sword,” she said again more forcefully, ignoring her parents’ warning.

Weiss did as asked and mirrored her position, their knuckles pressed against each other. From her forearm, Blake drew her ribbon and began winding it, entwining them together in a rite as old as her kingdom’s written history. Like marriage but more intricate, carrying more symbolism; the ribbon bound them in a way that escaped articulation but went beyond a mere promise of fidelity and support. If Weiss was fated to love her, then she would bind their souls together.

The various knights murmured their surprise but none dared interfere. Although her off hand struggled at points, the woman wordlessly offered her assistance, and together they completed the pattern.

“No matter where you are, in this world or the next, we are bound,” she said, resolute in her decision. “I love you, Weiss.”

“And I love you, Blake.” Weiss fought to keep her voice steady but failed as tears gathered in her eyes. “No matter what.”

Leaning forward, she caught the woman in a kiss. A thousand things they wanted to say had to be conveyed in the meeting of lips, for fear they might not get another chance, and when they pulled away, Blake could see so many emotions swirling in blue eyes. Despite how calmly she’d spoken before, Weiss was in pain at the thought of them being apart, just as much as her.

The King spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Have you protected her thus far from anyone aside yourself, Ser Knight?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Weiss replied. “I’ve killed seventeen assassins thus far.”

The Queen, once again, seemed keen on clarifying. “Are you counting the courtier from last week? The one who mysteriously disappeared after the feast?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty, that would be eighteen-” Then, Weiss’ eyes went wide, and Blake joined her in her surprise. Just as the woman’s mission to assassinate the royal family had been a secret, so too had Weiss’ actions to keep the royal family safe. Even Blake didn’t know the full extent of the things the woman did to take care of any threats.

“Stand down, guards, and return to your posts.”

Then, her mother appeared, a small smile on her lips as her ears relaxed. “We, perhaps, were a touch misleading earlier. We’ve known about your mission for a bit longer than Blake has.”

“You... have...”

“Mom?”

“You’ve never been shy about reminding us that you can take care of yourself,” she explained with a chuckle. “And we could tell from meeting her that she lacked the soul of an assassin. She isn’t the first sent to try and kill us, after all.”

Her father sighed in relief. “We thought you would’ve mentioned it to us; we didn’t want to bring it up first and potentially cause an argument.”

“But now that everything’s out in the open.” The Queen reached out and set her hand on theirs. “The crown recognizes your bond... and we welcome you to the family, Princess Weiss. Would you like a proper wedding as well or will the bond suffice?”

They both looked at each other as a moment of silence stretched, the situation sinking in until Weiss finally smiled widely.

“I would,” she said, a tear slipping from her eye and rolling down her cheek, the meaning of it changed entirely in a very short amount of time. “I would like nothing more than another chance to tell everyone how much I love you, Blake.”

That prompted a laugh to bubble up from her chest as it finally sunk in, relief flooding through her body. “I rather like the sound of that as well.”

---

AN: kinda a continuation from the other ask, but works well enough on its own I guess, idk, hope you enjoyed.

#TRR asks #Monochrome

[makeste]

I really want to know your opinion on this : do you think OFA's secret should be shared with more than just Bakugou? And if so, who? I really love your weekly reactions (you're hilarious) and your metas (you're so articulate!!!!) (´｡• ω •｡`)

first of all, thank you so much! ( ॢ•͈ᴗ•͈ॢ)

as for your question, it’s a bit complicated. my answer is both yes and no. I’ll start with the “no” part, I guess.

so here’s the thing: I absolutely, 100% fully support All Might’s decision to keep OFA secret. I really can’t stress this enough -- this is not something they were keeping hidden for funsies. “the Power Of All Might is something that can be shared and passed on from person to person, and he gave it to a fifteen-year-old boy” is not just something to be spread around lightly; if it got out to the wrong person, it could literally destroy Izuku’s life.

to the villains, he becomes a target, as we’ve already seen. we’re talking about the power of All Might for fuck’s sake. of course he’s a target. it’s the one power that can stand up to even All for One himself. villains would be coming after him pretty much every day of the week. if they don’t know about the “OFA can only be given up willingly” part, they simply try to take the quirk by force. but if they do know about it, that makes it even worse, because that’s when they start getting into methods of coercing him. hostages; torture; you name it. give us OFA or we’ll kill these innocent people. give us OFA or we’ll hurt your family and friends. his mom would have to go into hiding. he would never be safe again.

to the general public, and to agencies like the HPSC, Izuku becomes the subject of heated political controversy, and a potential government pawn. how could All Might do something so irresponsible as entrusting the greatest power in the world into the hands of a quirkless fifteen-year-old?? now the world is left without its Symbol of Peace, and with no one who’s ready to step in and fill those shoes. why didn’t he give OFA to someone with more power, more experience? this is unacceptable. Izuku should give it up to someone else. Hawks, or Best Jeanist, or Endeavor. people are very easily whipped into a frenzy; all it would take is a few viral opinion pieces, and the nation would probably be demanding the government to step in and force Izuku to relinquish it. some citizens might even take it upon themselves to try and capture him if they got desperate enough. even the other pros would probably be pressuring him. as for the HPSC, I wouldn’t put it past them to try and take control/custody of Izuku themselves and claim that it’s a matter of national security or whatnot. they’d have the best of intentions of course. just trying to keep the world safe. but they’re trending much more Hydra than S.H.I.E.L.D. these days, so who knows how badly that could end.

to Izuku’s schoolmates and friends, he becomes one of two things; either the object of mistrust or envy, or else someone to be protected at all costs. for most of them it would be the latter, since they really are good kids. but there’d be some people -- not in his class perhaps, but it’s a big school -- who’d no doubt be echoing the same thoughts as the public at large. he doesn’t deserve it, he’s not strong enough, etc., you get the idea. and if and when the villain attacks and threats -- “give us OFA or else” -- inevitably began to crop up as mentioned, all of the blame would fall down on him. “just give it to someone else who can handle it. why are you so selfish. this isn’t just about you; you’re putting everyone else in danger.”

and for the ones who don’t turn on him, who stay by his side and defend him, there’s still the fact that doing so puts them in danger as well. these kids are heroes. and if you entrust a hero with something that must be protected at all costs, they will protect it. at all costs. which is yet another burden to add to Izuku’s shoulders as now it’s not only his own safety he has to fear for, but that of his friends and loved ones. and if anything happened to them because of him, that’s not something he would ever get over.

so yeah. it’s insanely dangerous. and none of the above is even taking into account that there is a traitor at U.A., and they still don’t know who it is. so given all of that, it’s no wonder All Might insisted that Deku keep it a secret. and then of course Deku went and told Kacchan anyway, which even Kacchan was mad about once he realized the gravity of what he’d been told. but at least Kacchan is someone Deku’s known literally as long as he can remember, and there’s virtually no chance of him being a secret traitor. the same cannot be said for almost anyone else. we all know that they can be trusted, yes. but All Might doesn’t know that. even Aizawa, who is the one other person I’d argue should still have been told, was still a prime suspect in the traitor investigation due to him being one of the few people who could have communicated the information about the class schedule and the training camp’s whereabouts. we know he is not the traitor. we know he would literally die for any one of these kids. but the other characters do not know that for sure, and even Aizawa himself would probably agree that the rational thing under those circumstances would be to trust absolutely no one, with no exceptions. it’s the safest thing to do for Izuku’s sake in a situation where there is relatively little to be gained from telling other people, and potentially everything to lose by doing so. again, we already know there is at least one person in or linked to class 1-A who is not what they seem, who has managed to earn the trust of everyone, and who is connected to the League. that is just not a situation you can afford to fuck around with. “well we really like all these kids a lot and we’ve gotten to know them and we’re pretty sure they’re all on the up and up” is just not good enough when we are literally talking about a matter of life and death for a sixteen-year-old child.

so that’s the “no” part of my answer. I don’t think the secret should be shared. or at least, that would have been my answer before Shigaraki Tomura woke up from his three-month nap and was all “GOD I REALLY WANT ONE FOR ALL”, and Endeavor was all “ONE FOR ALL WHAT IS THAT”, and Izuku was all “HEY MISTER ENDEAVOR SIR, JUST SO YOU KNOW, SHIGARAKI IS AFTER ME”, and Aizawa was all “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I too heard ‘One for All’ on the comm, and have also deduced that for some reason Shigaraki Tomura is targeting my student, because most of the time I’m the one who’s actually holding on to the two brain cells that all of the pro heroes collectively share.”

so now that all of that has gone down, I think the situation has changed enough where, moving forward, at the very least Endeavor and Aizawa will have to be let in on the secret. because if not, they’re probably going to start doing their own investigations into it and could wind up accidentally spilling the beans to EVERYONE. so at the very least they will (and should) know. and this also applies to anyone else who stumbles across this battle before it wraps up, and thus also starts putting the pieces together. I think this will be Shouto and Ochako and Iida, potentially, which I’ll be glad to see happen if that is the case. because even though I firmly believe not telling them earlier was the right call, that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to know about it. they’re his friends, and they’ve earned his trust and care about his wellbeing. I think and hope that they’ll understand why they weren’t told earlier, and I hope they don’t blame Izuku for it at all, because it absolutely is not his fault. he made a promise to All Might, and All Might, as I’ve stated, had very good reasons for keeping this on the DL.

and by the way, it also would not surprise me at all if in spite of all the precautions they’ve taken, the secret actually DOES get revealed to the world at large eventually. at which point I’m almost positive every single thing I mentioned above will come to pass, and Izuku will be in for one hell of a rough ride. the upside though is that at least he’ll have a bigger support network to help him get through it. and also he is a much stronger, smarter, and more capable person than he was even just a year ago, and he’s better equipped to handle it now than he might have been before. it’s much harder to argue “this child should not have been given OFA” when said child is now capable of using 45% power instead of just 5% and/or 100%-but-his-entire-body-gets-destroyed-in-the-process. also harder to argue when said child has since UNLOCKED THE POWER OF SIXQUIRKS which not even All Might managed to do, so suck on that!! of course, that in turn opens the door to suspicion about him being connected to AFO, which is a whole new set of problems. OFA really is just a humongous pain in the ass in a lot of ways lmao.

anyway, so I hope that answers your question! no I don’t think they should have told anyone earlier, but I do think they should come clean to a few people now, since they’ve basically been all but found out anyway. and I will be happy to have those people included in the OFA Scooby Squad moving forward. they’re going to have to get a bigger clubhouse though I guess.

#midoriya izuku #all might #one for all #bnha meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post #deku meta

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Hi! As someone who’s literary opinion I really trust, I was surprised that you’re a twilight fan? I know almost nothing except commen knowledge things about that series, and I always assumed it was actually bad/un-feminist. What is it that you like so much that others seem to miss? I’m just genuinely curious about your take on the hate it always seems to get vs. it’s actual quality. I’m not gonna judge bc animorphs is also one of those books where you see it and assume it’s bad.

In over 14 years of loving this series, I’m not sure anyone has ever asked me why I enjoy it instead of simply trying to convince me that I’m wrong to do so.  So thank you for that.

First and foremost, I love the Twilight saga because of the vivid detail in Stephenie Meyer’s writing style.  The descriptions are so lush and dense with sensory information that you can practically bite down on them as you read.  Bella and Jacob aren’t just sitting on the beach; they’re sitting on a gnarled log of driftwood, worn smooth at the top from where so many Quileute teens have sat upon it during bonfires but still uneven enough to rock on its branches when Bella suddenly stands to rage at her own mortality.  Meyer describes that log in Twilight, so tangibly and with such economy of detail, that we recognize it immediately when Bella and Jacob return to that spot in Eclipse.  I’ve always disliked the movies, because I’ve always felt that the best part of Meyer’s writing simply did not translate well to the screen.

Secondly, I love the feminism.

Okay, let’s take a quick pause to let everyone gasp and clutch their pearls over me calling Twilight a feminist work.  I will address the criticisms later.  For now, please just hear me out.

Twilight strikes me as a premier example of what Hélène Cixous means when she calls for “women’s writing,” or writing for women, about women, by women, with a strong focus on the concerns and strengths and desires of womanhood.  This is a series about building and maintaining close relationships, both romantic and platonic.  It celebrates beauty, and love, and care.  Bella moves to Forks because she recognizes that her dad is lonely while her mom is quite the opposite, torn between family priorities.  She doesn’t simply subsume her interests to those of other people, but instead actively chooses how and when and where to express her love for her birth family and her found families.  Most of the other major decisions throughout the story — Alice “adopting” Bella, Carlisle moving the family to Alaska, Jacob becoming werewolf beta, the Cullens going up against the Volturi, etc. — are motivated by care and devotion for one’s family and friends.  Even the selfish or morally ambiguous character choices are shown to be motivated by love.  Rosalie tells Edward that Bella died because she genuinely thinks it’ll help him move on.  Victoria creates an army that nearly destroys Forks because she’s avenging James.  Alice abandons Bella and the others before the final battle because if she can’t save her entire family, then she’ll settle for saving her lover before letting him die in vain.

Not only is there a striking concern with love and care, but there’s also a strong commitment to avoiding violence.  Bella’s eventual vamp-superpower proves to be preventing violence and protecting others, an awesome character decision that I’d argue gets set up as early as the first book.  She lives in a violent world — this is a YA SF story, after all — but she has the power to suppress violence and create peace, both in herself and others.  I was already sick of “power = ability to inflict damage” in YA stories well before I knew the word “patriarchy.”  Twilight was one of the first books to convey to me that power could be refusing to do harm in spite of hunger or anger, that power could be shielding ones’ family, that power could be about building enough friendships and alliances to have an army at one’s back when facing an enemy too strong to take on alone.

Closely connected to all of that love and care, I love how much Twilight is about navigating teenage girlhood.  Is it empowering, intersectional, or all-inclusive?  Hell no.  Does it still dare to suggest that a completely ordinary teenage girl could have valid concerns about the world?  Yep.  The main conflict of the story, as Stephen King so derisively explained, is about the romantic entanglements of a teenage girl, and the book therefore has no literary merit.  (To quote my dad’s response: “Bold words from the guy who inflicted Firestarter on the world.”)

There is, indeed, a lot of romance in Twilight.  There are a lot of clothes.  Alice and Rosalie especially spend a lot of time on makeup, and hair, and choosing the prettiest cars and houses.  Twilight embraces all the stereotypically “girly” concerns of adolescence, and makes no effort to apologize for or condemn them.  Bella isn’t particularly good at performing them — she likes but doesn’t excel at shopping, fiercely defends her ugly car as ugly, hobbles through prom on crutches — but she can still enjoy the feeling of being pretty in a sparkly dress while dancing with her sparkly boyfriend.  And Twilight, like Animorphs with Cassie, takes the daring step of treating that feeling as valid.

Speaking of sparkles, I love the commitment to the fantasy concept in Twilight, including the myriad mundanities that Meyer brings with that commitment.  If you have super-speed, why not use it to play extreme baseball?  If you’re a mindreader with a clairvoyant sister, why wouldn’t you two play mental chess games?  I couldn’t tell you, after seven seasons of Buffy or eight of Vampire Diaries, what Spike or Damien or Angel or Stefan does all day when not brooding or lurking in the bushes to creep on human women.  I can tell you what the Cullens get up to.  Emmett and Rosalie work on their cars, usually by holding them overhead one-handed.  Carlisle and Alice read plays, and sometimes talk the whole family into home Shakespeare productions.  Edward and Carlisle debate theology, Emmett and Jasper have dumb athletic competitions, Edward and Esme play music, Alice manipulates stock markets, the twins go shopping online, etcetera.  The Cullens feel real, feel like the vampires next door, in a way that Louis and Lestat simply do not.

To get to the elephant in the room — I just described Twilight as a feminist text! — let’s talk about the other thing the Cullens do for fun: they have sex.  Weird sex.  Kinky furniture-breaking sex.  Sex that Emmett (who would know) compares to bear-wrestling.  These books suck with regards to queer representation, but they are sex-positive.  They feature an old-school Anglican protagonist offering his daughter-in-law a medical abortion.  They treat Edward’s desire for sex only within marriage and Alice’s desire for sex outside of marriage as both being valid.  Like I said, not groundbreaking, even by the standards of 2005, but still more than most teen novels do even today.

There’s a passage from Breaking Dawn that people love to pull out of context as “everything wrong with Twilight in two paragraphs” because it describes Bella waking up the morning after sex with bruises on her arms.  That moment is shocking out of context, to be sure — but in context, it’s the end result of an in-depth consent negotiation that lasts four books.  Bella says that she’d like to become a vampire.  Edward says okay, but only if she spends a few more years living as a human and considering that choice.  Bella says okay, but only if Edward, not Carlisle, becomes the one to turn her.  Edward says they can use his venom, but that Carlisle, who’s an MD, really needs to supervise the process.  Bella doesn’t love the idea of Edward’s stepdad cockblocking what’s supposed to be an intimate moment, and so agrees only on the grounds that she gets to have sex with Edward as a human first.  Edward’s hella Catholic, so he requests that they get married first.  Bella’s super horny, so she demands that the wedding happen within six months.  Edward says that he might hurt her during sex, and Bella says that she wants a little hurt during sex.  They marry.  They bang.  During the banging, Edward makes every effort to be controlled and courteous and gentile, while Bella goes wild and crazy.  The next morning, she has bruises and he does not.  Edward apologizes, but Bella’s actually really into it.  She spends a while admiring her sexy vamp-marked self in the mirror, touches the bruises many times, and reminds us yet again that Bella Swan’s whole M.O. is being a monsterfucker.  Her kink is not my kink, and that’s okay.

To be clear, I think there are other aspects of the romance that get criticized for good reason.  Edward does not negotiate with Bella before sneaking into her room to watch her sleep, and he does make unacceptable use of their power differences when he thinks she’s in danger of being mauled by werewolves.  The text condemns Jacob’s “don’t wanna die a virgin” ploy to manipulate a kiss out of Bella, but not the wider conceit of all the male characters as possessing uncontrollable urges.  Bella’s struggles to adjust to a new town feel very feminine and realistic; her amused tolerance of Jacob’s and Mike’s sexual harassment as the price for their friendship does not.  Werewolf imprinting might be mostly platonic, but that doesn’t make it okay for Meyer to depict it as a form of soulmate bonding that happens with child characters. Those are good points, all around.  I just wish that most of them didn’t come up in the context of post-hoc rationalizations for loathing the femininity of a feminine text.

I’m not calling Twilight an unproblematic series.  I’m saying that it gets (rightly!) criticized for appropriating Quileute culture, while Buffy’s total absence of main characters of color and blatant anti-Romani racism are (wrongly!) not remarked upon. I'm saying that I’ve been told I’m a misogynist for liking Twilight but not for liking James Bond.  I’m saying that there’s a reason people tend to go “oh, that makes so much sense!” when I let them in on the fact that reactive hatred for “Twitards” started and spread on 4Chan, later home of Gamergate and incel culture.  I’m saying that Twilight depicts problematic relationship dynamics as sexy — but then so do Vampire Academy, Blue Bloods, Supernatural, Vladimir Tod, and Vampire Diaries.  All of which take the time to stop and thumb their noses at Twilight, smug in the superiority of having vampires that fly rather than vampires that sparkle, and for thoroughly condemning teenage girls for being girly while continuing to show men inflicting violence on them.

After all, as Erin May Kelly puts it: “we live in a world taught to hate everything to do with little girls.  We hate the books they read and the bands they like.  Is there anything the world makes fun of more than One Direction and Twilight?”  No one has ever called me a misogynist for liking the MCU, in spite of less than a third of its movies even managing to clear the low-low bar of the Bechdel test.  Because people are still allowed to like Harry Potter in spite of its racism, or Lord of the Rings despite its imperialism.  Because hatred for Twilight was never about its very real sexism, or the genuinely silly sparkle-vampires, until it had to justify itself as something other than hate for everything that teenage girls have ever dared openly love.

I enjoy the novels, and I enjoy the fan fiction that tries to fix some of the problems with the novels.  I appreciate the extent to which Meyer has elevated fan culture, and made an effort to acknowledge her own past mistakes.  I would love to be able to talk about my love for the series as a flawed but beautiful work of literature, but for now I’ll settle for asking that the world just let me enjoy it in peace.

#twilight #the twilight saga #breaking dawn #eclipse #new moon #stephenie meyer #fandom #nothing to do with animorphs #misogyny #ableist language #sexist language #long post #sexism #romance #anonymous #asks

[robbyrobinson]

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS: GODS AWAKEN (XIX)

Odalia walked into Emperor Belos’ throne room and prostrated herself before him and Nyarlathotep. “Lord Nyarlathotep, I have retrieved the book.”  

Luz and Amity awoke in the original bodies and sprung back to life. “Uh? What happened?”  

Amity groaned and fell backward her head throbbing with pain. “Why is my head spinning?” Her cheeks grew green and bloated out of the instinctive urge of retching whatever sour contents were churning in her stomach.  

“So that is apple blood,” Luz spoke to herself, “after this, I’m never going to try that stuff again.”  

Amity and Luz stared at each other surprised to find that they were back in their own bodies. They waved their hands in front of their faces and squeezed their arms until they took on a bluish hue. Their probing would only strengthen the notion that they were truly back in their bodies. But one thought came to their minds: if they were borrowing the bodies at the time, then what happened to the original host’s souls?  

“Welcome back to the Isles, human.”  

Belos had gotten off his throne and his large frame towered over the two. Unlike Odalia’s height at around 6 feet, Belos stood at a startling 8 feet. He eclipsed obviously Kikimora, his most trusted servant and right hand, but he was also an imposing figure when it came to the members of his imperial guards. This only accentuated the perceived majesty and authority he encouraged from his worshippers.  

Luz stared at the Emperor with contempt manifesting on her face. “Belos.”  

“I see that you are still bitter over our last encounter?” Emperor Belos asked. It was more a rhetorical question, really, but one he made out of amusement.  

“Where’s Eda?” Luz asked.

Emperor Belos raised his hand. “Unharmed, I assure you, but we must keep her from interfering with our plans.”  

He looked at the murals depicting the wild witches. “As you may have guessed I had...taken care of the wild magic practitioners...one by one.”  

Luz internally shivered at the implications of what he was entailing. He raised his staff and carefully traced an invisible line through the savage witches on the murals. “The Day of Unity is now upon us.”  

“How dare you send your hideous monsters to attack my home?” Luz demanded. Her fists shook and turned red to match the increasing anger in her face.  

Belos chuckled. “It was more of a method of ringing you out; I knew that because of your compassionate heart that you would rather give yourself up than allow more of those rats to die in your stead.”  

“Well, you got me now,” Luz stated never taking her eyes off Belos’, “so leave the Earth alone.”  

Belos tilted his head. “The Titan proclaims that the Earth must be laid to waste before it returns to its full powers. There is no stopping the inevitable. The Earth will bleed a deep, gushing red, before it crumbles away to its slow, miserable, pitiable demise.”  

Luz fought the urge of drawing a glyph to cave Belos’ head in. “Mami..”  

Belos’ eyes flickered and glowed. “Oh, your mother? She is here.”  

Luz’s eyes shot up. “She is.”  

The metallic fingers of his gloves came together to create an echoing snap. Warden Wrath walked into the throne room alongside the Owl Spy. Luz’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging agape. A middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and tan skin was brought in with chains. A metal ring was fixed around her waist, and the heavy metal shackles around her ankles echoed on the floor in miserable tune.  

She wore glasses topped with a red frame. From what Luz could see, she was a continually tired woman with heavy bags behind her glasses. Her hair was in a disarray as well as her uniform, one of those outfits you would see in hospital settings. Tears were crudely decorated on the woman’s uniform, particularly towards the bottom where the hem of her shirt was.  

“Mom?”  

The woman looked up to see Luz running towards her. “Luz!?”  

Luz jumped and practically tackled her mother. “Is it really you?”  

“It is me,” she stated. She tried to hug her daughter back with her limited capabilities. “I have been so worried about you.”  

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Luz said, looking down. “I didn’t actually go to that summer camp that you wanted me to.”  

“I am just delighted to see that you’re okay,” she replied, “when those letters stopped coming in, I almost had a mental breakdown.”  

Luz felt moisture building in her eyes. She hated that she had to put her mother through that, but she had no other option in order to keep Belos from getting to Earth. She knew that at some point, the letters that she would send her Mom would soon drain up, but she was the optimist believing that she could find a way back home before her mother had the chance to worry.  

Amity scanned the woman Luz was hugging. “Who is that, Luz?”  

Luz looked back at the young witch her smile shining brighter than before. “This is my Mom, Amity.”  

Her mother gave a smile, but it was more forced given the circumstances. Amity’s thoughts spiraled out of control. “My future mother-in-law?” she asked.

“What was that?”  

Amity quickly caught herself. “Um, your mother and my mother in the same room.”  

Luz’s eyebrow peaked. “Why are you here, Mom?”  

Emperor Belos interrupted the reunion disgracefully. “Yes, why don’t you tell my grandchild why you are here, Camila?”  

The room grew quiet with not even the sound of a pin dropping on the floor could spur any response. Luz eyed Belos sternly. “Grandchild? What are you getting at?”  

“My, Camila, you kept this secret about yourself successfully hidden for years?” Belos asked again.  

“Mom, please, tell me what is going on.”  

Camila sighed. She exhaled sharply now looking at her feet in deep shame. “Luz, you love the Good Witch Azura books, don’t you?”  

Luz nodded. “Me and Amity both; we bonded over them.”  

“What if I were to tell you that there is some truth to those books?”  

Luz couldn’t understand what her mother was saying at first, but it did slowly start to dawn on her. “Are you saying that you’re Azura?”  

Camila snickered a bit and shook her head. “No, no; Azura is a fictional character...but I did use creative liberties when it came with writing the books.”  

The thought that the events of the books, regardless of whether they came about as fictious stretches of the actual events, crossed Luz’s mind. “Why did Belos call me his grandchild?”  

Camila sighed. “When I was around your age, I found myself in the demon realm much like you – I can’t for the life of me remember how if it was through some door or other means – but I was a foreigner in a world that discriminated against humans.”  

Luz listened carefully not noticing that Odalia was singling for her daughter to be taken away.  

“One day, Emperor Belos discovered me with some old scraps of metal and trash and decided to adopt me for reasons I did not understand at the time. He told me that humans were unable to practice magic on the Boiling Isles because of them lacking the bile sac necessary for it, so he placed a bit of his evil, dark magic into my body and took me as a protégé.”  

“So that was why I was able to see those glyphs?” Luz asked.  

“After being trained under him for some time, he told me of the Day of Unity. It was some weird, cultish holiday I had initially taken it. But I soon found out what intentions he had for the Earth, and I fought against him. With his own magic surging through my veins, I easily overpowered the Emperor and...I might have caused him to be in his current unhealthy state of being because I can sense now that Belos is slowly dying.”  

Luz saw discarded palisman carcasses around Belos’ throne. “Was that why you wanted me to stop being obsessed with fantasy books and magic?”  

Camila nodded her head. “It was a selfish thing for me to do, but I wanted to protect you from the knowledge that such a world existed.” She looked at her feet again likely fearful of meeting her daughter’s eyes. “That was why I was hopeful that the trip would remove that desire so you would never come to this world.”  

Luz didn’t know what to say after being given such a bombshell. Her mom knew about the Boiling Isles because she had been there at some point only to somehow escape once things got sour. Now she learned that Belos took her mother in and how she was now his granddaughter. She had his malevolent magic flowing through her body. Her heart was pumping his unholy blood into her veins and through her bloodstream. It made considerable sense because, as was explained to her by Eda years ago, humans could not practice magic.  

“Luz?” Camila asked.  

Luz was still speechless and incapable of reaction. Belos laughed again and tapped Camila’s forehead with the staff. “I was hoping that I could take your daughter in and have her as a protégé to turn her against you, but that plan went awry.”  

He glared at Warden Wrath. “Take her to the execution site.”  

Warden Wrath shook his head and grabbed a hold of Camila. Camila’s legs shook but were heavily weighed down by the shackles. “Luz!”  

Luz tried to run after Warden Wrath, but Odalia shot a blue stream at Luz; it ripped into the floor dividing it in half. “No wrong step, or I will slice you in two as well.”  

“Mom!” Luz shouted. She shot daggers from her eyes at Belos. “Unhand her at once!”  

Belos shook his head. “The sins of the past must be made to pay for.” He exited the throne room before turning around once he reached the exit behind the beating heart of the Titan. “I’ll have my master take it from here.”  

Nyarlathotep, once more in his Black Pharaoh guise, approached the girl. “Hello once again, Luz.”  

“It’s you!” Luz shouted and pointing her finger at accusingly. “Was this all your idea!?”  

“I’m not a man who has pre-made plans just hanging there collecting dust,” Nyarlathotep said with a half-serious tone. “Odalia, give her the Necronomicon.”  

Odalia’s eyes shot up. “Lord Nyarlathotep, why would-”  

“That is an order,” Nyarlathotep replied. His voice went down a couple octaves.  

Shaking, Odalia handed the Necronomicon to the human girl and made her leave. Luz had a weird feeling about this. “What game is this?”  

“When you are literally older than time itself, it’s always best to play a game to take a load off your mind,”  Nyarlathotep answered.  

Nyarlathotep snapped his fingers. Above him was a column wherein a trap door opened. From there, she could see a large, glass cage descending. She squinted her eyes to make out the figures. Eda, King, and Lilith were inside. At the side of the cage was Hypnos, once more in his youthful appearance, flowers and all. He held the piece of horn in his hand.  

“Eda!” Luz proclaimed.  

Eda looked up happy to hear her apprentice’s voice. “Kid, you made it!”  

King and Lilith also turned their glances to Luz. King jumped up and down much like how a dog does whenever they are happy to see their owner come back. Lilith smiled as well, but it was a small one. Luz slammed against the cage’s walls. “Youch!” Luz rubbed her injured nose with her hands. “You guys are alive?”  

“Nyarlathotep took us as prisoners and had us as bargaining chips for you,” Lilith explained.  

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll have you out lickety split!”  

“Wait, Luz!” Eda screamed.

Luz smashed her fist on the glass only for it to bounce back. Thinking, Luz looked into the bag to find something she could use to break the cage. She scribbled glyphs on paper and activated them, but it only made the magical glass stronger. Luz turned to her bag again this time drawing out the jar containing the shoggoth. She tossed it at the cage, but, like with the other objects she tried to use, it rebounded and skyrocketed off the glass. It shot across the room and exited out the door when Kikimora opened it.  

“Luz, you can’t break the glass; we all tried to break it ourselves, but there’s no use,” Eda said at last.  

“There has to be something..” Luz lamented.

“Aye, there is a way, my dear,” Nyarlathotep answered.  

“Why should I trust you?” Luz asked in a matter-of-fact way.  

“The glass can either be broken two ways; either I can use my powers to free the three captives, or an Elder God can destroy it.”  

“Well, I want you to free them!” Luz declared.  

Nyarlathotep held his finger up. “Quid pro quo, my dear, quid pro quo.”  

“Squid pro what?” Luz reiterated.  

“I will free them and you will all go on to live happy lives if you gave me the book.”  

Luz held the demonic book between her arms. “But I can’t just give the book over to someone like you.”  

“Why not?”  

“Because you’re evil; I know somehow you were responsible for the attack on the Earth; a lot of people could die if I gave you this book.”  

“Are a million lives more important to you than the lives of your mentor; her sister; and your pet?”  

“I am not a pet!” King remarked.  

Nyarlathotep ignored the demon and kept speaking. “It would be an unfortunate occasion if they were ripped away from you.”  

“Nyarlathotep, before you do your business with the three captives, do allow me the opportunity to give this demon his horn back.”  

Nyarlathotep looked at the Elder God with suspicion, but flicked his hand. “At least he should be presentable before dying I presume.”  

Nyarlathotep snapped his fingers allowing a small hole to form in the wall. Hypnos slipped the horn into the hole and it resealed after he removed his hand. Eda eyed the horn piece with curiosity. “It looks like it’s the size of your horn, King.”  

She dropped the horn in King’s lap and he sniffed it. “Feels like it; smells like it to...how did I lose it again?”  

He shrugged and dropped it over the crack of his horn. Before he could say anything further, the missing horn piece slipped in like a jigsaw puzzle. A green light glowed around the horn acting as an adhesive glue. In a flash, everything became crystal clear to King as his memories came blasting in at full force. An overtaking sensation. It all came flashing at once: the woman. The large, bat-like monstrosity with the one, three-lobed, bulging eye. The screams. And the smoky vapor – now he could perceive that it materialized together to form the appearance of a man. A tall man wearing a dark cloak. One who was bereft of any strand of hair and his skin darker than the darkest night. The green orb came out from a spell circle the hideous man drew. His mouth was stretched inhumanly widely into a twisted, ghastly grin.  

“Well, what do we have here?” he asked.

King sprawled on the floor of the cage sweat beads rolling down his skull head. He retched but nothing came up. Panic was building within him writhing in anguish for release. He looked at Nyarlathotep with complete hatred. “You were the one who killed my Mom, weren’t you?”  

Nyarlathotep looked at him with an amused smile. “You have to be more specific than that, child; I may be eternal, but that doesn’t mean I have an internal memory box that catalogues every individual scream.”  

Luz gripped the Necronomicon with anger. “So you killed King’s mother and cursed him?” She looked at the despairing demon. “And you decided to take it as a memento to remember your kill?”  

Nyarlathotep shrugged. “As I have said, I cannot be held to remember every one of my little endeavors.”  

Nyarlathotep snapped his fingers again. This time, the top of the cage opened with a gush of running water dropping down. Eda and the others were not too freaked out in that moment, but they could quickly see that the more water flowing into their cell, it was accumulating quickly and already taking the shape of the cage. They looked at Nyarlathotep who in turn gave them a look of humor. They banged their fists against the cage’s walls, but it only rebounded on them.  

“Nyarlathotep! Stop this nonsense!” Luz yelled. “You’ll drown them.”  

“I will free them,” Nyarlathotep promised, “but you will have to give me the Necronomicon in return.”  

“And how do I know that you won’t go against your promise?” Luz asked reasonably. It made sense for her to doubt the Crawling Chaos’ claims, but in her peripheral vision, she saw that the water was already up Lilith and Eda’s waists. King jumped on top of Eda’s head to keep his body dry, but this had the negative effect of pushing Eda deeper into the rushing water.  

“I’m afraid that they don’t have long for this world, Luz.”  

Eda and Lilith were up to their necks. “I always thought it would end by some overdose on potion,” Eda lamented.

Concern was in Lilith’s eyes, but she chuckled at the dark joke. “That’s my Edalyn, alright.”  

Luz found herself in internal conflict. She truly wanted to save the three roommates she had, but she couldn’t just hand a book of such cosmic power to the bad guy. Nyarlathotep seemed to read her mind when he spoke again.  

“I feel that you think that if something were to befall your teacher, you would be lost in the world.”  

Luz squinted. “What?”  

“If you were to give the book to me, I will make you my personal protégé; you will learn about all the secrets of this world and truly become the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. Leagues above your mentor, and even Belos himself. You can reign by my side as I destroy this world and remake it befitting to our image. The universe and the gods themselves will look at you in favor and you would never have the need to want again. Is that a deal?”  

Luz could admit that Nyarlathotep’s deal did have a kernel of her interest. Knowledge over everything could come in handy. While she did love Eda dearly, Eda was at a loss now because of her magic being at an all-time low. Maybe with Nyarlathotep’s help, she could learn a way of curing Eda of her curse and subsequently return her back to her previous state. As she thought, she took another glance at the cage now taken aback. The three captives were completely submerged in the water and were desperately hitting the walls of the cage in hopes of breaking them. Liquid was filling their lungs, cutting their oxygen supply sharply. They moved their legs back and forth in a fishy motion. Yet for every strike and punch they could muster, the cage’s walls jiggled back from the brunt force.  

Luz turned to Nyarlathotep. “No; I refuse.”  

Before Nyarlathotep’s eyes, Luz flipped the Necronomicon over revealing several fire glyphs on the back. Nyarlathotep’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “Mortal, please reconsider!”  

Luz took another glance at Eda and the others and saw that their movements were screeching to a halt and they sunk towards the ground of the cage. Luz had made her decision. She slammed her hand on the back of the Necronomicon, and it erupted in flames.  

“No!” Nyarlathotep screamed.  

The flames licked the ancient, crisp pages of the Necronomicon and exploded. A shrill hiss filled the air to indicate that the malevolent spirit lurking in the pages of the banned book was dying. Dark green, eldritch smoke crawled out of the embers of the fire and ascended skyward. Luz heard the pages crackle and pop reminding her of the sweet smell of fresh popcorn like the kind you could get at movie theaters. With one final death throe, the Necronomicon crumbled into a heap of ashes.  

Luz looked at Nyarlathotep spitefully. “You have lost, Nyarlathotep.”  

Instead of seeing his hurt, irritated face, Nyarlathotep was once more smiling. He chuckled deeply from the darkest, deepest regions of his stomach. He held his hands over the burning heap that was once the Necronomicon and absorbed a black light that suddenly appeared. He grew larger with his arms and legs becoming more muscular and pronounced. His abdomen became gargantuan as well to accentuate his broad shoulders. No more did he resemble a human, even if a crude mockery of one. He was now a hulking monster with rows upon rows of sharp, jagged teeth.  

A wave of dark power rocked Emperor Belos’ throne room and empire. It shattered the glass cage containing Eda, Lilith and King, and they were washed out on the floor. Eda coughed up the water in a wheeze. “That was close.”  

Before she said anything else, she saw Nyarlathotep tower before them. Alerted, she looked at Luz. “Kid, did you destroy the book or not?”  

“Yes, Eda, I did, but...something came up that I did not anticipate.”  

The ceiling shook and debris started to sprinkle down. From the point of origin, the dark wave of evil magic wreaked havoc through the Isles due to its intensity. Many of the imperial guards were caught in the wave and effortlessly disintegrated. Buildings and houses crumbled from their destroyed foundations compelling the denizens to evacuate from their houses lest they were the casualties. Emperor Belos hid away alongside Kikimora.  

“Sire, what happened!?” Kikimora asked.  

“It is nothing to be concerned about, Kiki,” Emperor Belos replied. He eyed his throne room. “So it did work as planned.”  

Nyarlathotep cackled his deep, monotonous voice shaking the floor. “It has been a thousand years, but it was completely worth it!”  

Luz couldn’t comprehend what had happened. “But..but I destroyed the Necronomicon; you saw it.”  

“I had already overseen the notion that you would refuse to rule by my side, but the good thing about it is that even if you accepted, it wouldn’t have mattered. I would still have reclaimed the powers that I lost. Even if you destroyed the book, that would entail that my powers would be returned to me either way.”  

Luz looked down. “Then it is truly hopeless.”  

Nyarlathotep raised his large scepter. “Before I lay waste to this world, I did promise Boscha that I would humor her little battle with your friend; may as well set the stage for it.”  

“I’ll find a way to stop you,” Luz declared. It was a heat of the moment thing, but she truly did mean it.  

Nyarlathotep chuckled. “After Boscha wins, I guess I’ll honor my deal with Belos and destroy the Earth for good measure.”  

With that, Nyarlathotep transformed into a black wind and swirled out of the throne room cackling his head off.  

#cthulhu #cthulhu mythos #mythos #owl house #the owl house #owlhouse #lovecraft #nyarlathotep #luz noceda #emperor belos

[hockeyblogg]

age - f.andersen

Author’s Notes: Hiyaa, so here’s the first part to ‘Age,’ I really hope you all like it & that it makes much more sense. I know on my last blog you all were hoping for part 3 and I’m hoping to show it to you this time. Hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: Angst, language, age gap, reader’s parents are assh*les and I’m sorry about that, (I’m sure your parents are sweethearts) Slight shade to Auston M*tthews but it’s not out of spite I swear lol.

**Also, the word “Manther” means ‘An older guy who dates women a lot younger than him’**

You were nervous.

No matter how much your boyfriend tried to reassure you, you were nervous.

Today would be the day where Freddie would finally meet your parents, and he personally was very excited. Ever since you met his parents last year, he’s been very eager to meet yours.

You had a wonderful time meeting his family, his mother immediately pulling you into a hug upon seeing you, “så du er hans lille blomst.” And his father politely shaking your hand while telling you how lovely it was to meet you. The visit went amazingly, and you were welcomed into his family very easily, but it’s tough to say that it would be the same with your family and Freddie.

Everyone knew you were quite a few years younger than Fred, six years to be exact, or as most people will fact check you. Apparently a twenty-four-year-old and a thirty-year-old can’t be together, or at least when your boyfriend is in the spotlight as much as yours, that’s what people will tell you. Two people who will forever remind you of that, are your parents, which is why you’re nervous for the outcome of tonight.

You’ve put it off for too long now, and you were actually hoping he would eventually let it go, but what you forgot was that Freddie was a goalie, and goalies are extremely patient.

Sighing, you run your hands down your dress, and try to calm yourself. We’ll just go in, eat, and get out, no extra visiting, no unnecessary lounging, just eat and leave.

“kæreste, you ready?” Fred pops in, fumbling with his watch and coming to stand behind you, you nod and softly smile at him, “You look handsome bubs.” He looks up and catches your eye in the mirror, “Thank you min elskede, and you look perfect.” You lightly blush but turn away before he can catch it, “We should go, we don’t want to be late.” Freddie chuckles, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly either way sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek and leads the way out of the bedroom and you slightly frown at his words. Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

Sitting in the car, you bite your lip, worrying about the possible outcome of this dinner.

Your parents have told you on multiple occasions that they thought Freddie wasn’t exactly “good” for you. By “good” they mean, your age and “mindset” as they called it. To them, because of your age gap they think Freddie is only using you for his benefit.

**

“You’re young and beautiful sweetie, of course a man of Freddie’s age is going to want to be with you, it’s like a boost to his career and his self-image-” Your mother was cut off by your father, “what your mother is trying to say is this man is just using you to make himself look good.”

“Dad!” You exasperated, “He’s not like that, and I’m sure that once you meet him-” It’s almost as if your father didn’t want to talk about it as he cut you off this time, “Like hell I’ll meet that little manther.” You take a deep breath as you try to calm yourself, “I know who Freddie is and what he’s like, dad. Until you want to get to know him as I do, then we’ll be back for a visit, we, not just me.” You got up after your little speech and left your parents’ home.

**

Flashback to present time and here you are, on your way to your parents’ house to hopefully have a nice, quick dinner.

As you pull up and Freddie parallel parks by the sidewalk, you look at him and grab his hand, squeezing it.

“Freddie,” he looks up at you, “Whatever happens tonight, if my parents love you, or…choose not to, just please remember that I love you so much, and I’m not going anywhere.” Freddie was getting ready to tease you but when he heard the sincerity in your voice he simply nods and pulls your hand up to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it, “I love you too, elsker.”

You both get out of Freddie’s car and walk hand in hand to the front door, knocking twice before it swings open and your parents come into view.

“It’s so nice to see you sweetie.” Your mother pulls you in for a hug and your dad just nods towards you, “Hi honey.” You sigh, knowing he’s still a bit angry from your last visit.

You turn to Freddie and grab his hand, “Mom, Dad, this is Freddie. Freddie, these are my parents.” Freddie smiles and holds his hand out for them to shake, your mother takes it but doesn’t say anything further and your dad just nods at him before turning away and walking to the kitchen, “Come, the food is getting cold.” Your mother follows after him, and mumbles something to your father.

“I’m sorry about that.” You whisper to Freddie and he shrugs, “It’s fine, some fathers are very protective, come on kæreste.”

The dinner was awfully quiet and filled with slightly awkward silence and you were just about ready to ask Freddie if he was done when your father spoke up, “So Freddie, you play hockey, yes?” Freddie nodded and wiped his face before answering, “Yes I do, I play with the Toronto Maple Leafs. Do you watch, or play?” Your father shook his head, “Nope, never liked hockey.” Freddie simply nods and takes a sip of his water.

“How old are you Freddie?” Fred just about chokes on his water at the sudden question but manages to keep it at bay, setting down his glass, he clears his throat, “Well um, I’m thirty years old sir.” Your father continues, “Thirty years old and dating a twenty-four-year-old, funny.” Before you can speak up, Fred does, “Why’s that funny?”

“Oh, you know, because everyone knows that men your age only go for women younger than them because it makes them look good, and considering your “job,” your father puts quotations around the word “job” and smirks, “it’s kind of obvious.” Fred shakes his head, “Well, you’re wrong, why is it so hard to believe that I genuinely care about your daughter?”

Your father stands up and places his hands on the table, leaning toward you and your boyfriend, “Because Freddie, I know what kind of man you are, I’ve read all about you; you’re friends with Auston Matthews aren’t you, during your first couple seasons with the Leafs you were always partying, sleeping around, being a poor role model that’s for sure, I bet it was that Matthews kid that convinced you to ask my daughter out wasn’t it, bet you were just there to get inside her pants.”

You and your mother both look at him incredulously.

“Dad!”

“Y/F/N!”

Your father continues, venom in his words, “Listen here Freddie, a man of your age shouldn’t be with my daughter, you’re way too old and in my opinion, my daughter can do so much better than a washed up player like yourself.”

You stand up this time, finally hearing enough, “Dad stop! You have no right to talk to him that way, and you also have no say in whoever I choose to be in a relationship with,” you hear Freddie get up and walk towards the door, hearing it open then close, “I love Freddie, and Freddie loves me, and if you can’t accept that then we’re leaving and not coming back until you do.” You turn around as well, ignoring your father’s demands to stay, slipping your shoes on and jogging out the door.

You hop into the car and as soon as you buckle in, you both are driving away.

“Fred,” You face him and put your hand over his, “are you okay?” Fred nods but doesn’t say anything further, and you sigh, squeezing his hand and not letting go until you arrive at your apartment.

_

Stepping out of the elevator, you follow behind Fred, who unlocks your apartment door and you both step in and take your shoes off.

Freddie hasn’t said a word since you left your parents’ and you were beginning to worry; you really didn’t want him to take your father’s words seriously.

Freddie, unfortunately, was.

Freddie had been thinking about your fathers’ words all the way back to your shared apartment, and the more he thought about them, the more they made sense to him.

Ever since you and he got together almost four years ago, people have not let you both forget how big your age gap was. He has dealt with the teasing of his teammates at the beginning of your relationship, the glances that people would give him whenever you both were out in public, and the constant tweets or comments on any of your or Freddie’s posts. Having to endure that from your parents was almost like the last straw to him.

It’s clear that almost everyone thought you two didn’t belong together and if Freddie was being honest with himself, every single time he received a glance, every single time he had an older creepy CEO at one of the many maple leafs’ galas come up to him and ask “how’d you get a doll like that” and “where can I get one,” every single time someone commented on how old he is or looked, the more he felt guilty and selfish.

Who did he think he was to keep you all to himself, all for himself? That wasn’t fair to your friends, your family, and more importantly, it wasn’t fair to you. You deserve to be free, to be doing things other people your age are doing; traveling, going out every weekend, having girls’ days or nights, not staying committed to an old man like himself.

Instead, you’re in bed by ten because you have to make sure he’s up on time for practice, your parents are mad at you because you’re dating him, you have almost zero friends because you’re too caught up in events and games that you attend with him, you aren’t living your life the way you should be and for that, Freddie feels responsible.

Freddie sighs as he comes out of the bathroom and you look up from where you’re sitting, “Fred, are you okay?” he doesn’t answer your question, just comes and sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from you.

“I think we need to take a break…” he starts, and you panic inside, quickly hopping up and coming around, kneeling beside him, “What? Fred, bub...we, we don’t.” You grab his hands and try to catch his eye, but he’s turning away from you, “Y/N, it’s not fair okay, it’s not right.” He stands up and walks a few feet away, leaving some distance between you two, “I’ve been keeping you from everything, I’ve been holding you back, and I just can’t anymore.” You stand and try to take a step closer to him, but he takes one back, and you feel a pang in your chest, “Fred look, if this is about my parents-”

“It’s not just your parents, Y/N, it’s everyone,” he cuts you off and slightly raises his voice, “it’s the stares, the mumbles, the snickers, it’s like almost everyone is so against us being together, nobody wants us to be together..” tears are pooling in your eyes, and you sniff, “Who cares what everyone thinks Freddie, all that matters is what we want, it’s our relationship, not theirs. Don’t you want us to be together?” You ask him, but he just looks down, not meeting your eyes.

What could he say? Of course, he wanted you two to be together, he fucking loves you, but against his better judgement, he’s allowing everyone else to win this time. He couldn’t keep you from your parents, your friends, the world. He just couldn’t anymore.

Your shoulders slump at his silence and you allow the tears to fall down. After a beat of silence, other than your soft crying, Freddie makes his way to the door, “You can stay here, I’ll go stay at Auston’s.”

Hearing the front door slam shut, you fall to the floor and breakdown, your tears now flowing freely and your shoulders racking with sobs.

You allow yourself to breakdown for a while, until your sobs calm to sniffles, and your tears are gone, the last of them dried on your cheeks. As you sit there, you decide that you can’t stay at the apartment, it’s Freddie’s after all, and besides, if you stay it will just remind you of what you had.

With that thought in your head, you grab your phone, sending a quick text to Steph asking if there’s a spare room you can stay in until you get a place of your own, of course she asks what happened but you only tell her that you’ll explain later to which she tells you she’ll be there in an hour.

Grabbing two suitcases from your and Freddie’s closet, you pack up all your clothes. After you’re done there, you go into the bathroom and grab your personal items, putting those in a backpack. You’ve only lived with Freddie for almost two years, so you don’t have much things.

You grab your phone and text Freddie, telling him that you can’t take the apartment, and that you’ll be staying with Mitch and Steph for now. You put on your backpack and grab the two suitcases, making your way downstairs and to the front door. Steph messages you to tell you she���s almost there and you check around the apartment for any last things you may have forgotten.

After finding nothing upstairs and in the living room, you check the front closet and see a pair of shoes at the bottom, going to grab them you notice something inside and dig your hand in, bringing it back out you almost drop the item, and you almost don’t want it to be what you think it is.

Using your other hand, you drop the shoes and open the little blue box, coming face to face with the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Tears are flooding your eyes again and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from crying.

Ping!

Steph: I’m outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

så du er hans lille blomst = so you are his little flower.

#ahhh #I really hope this is good #frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagines #freddie andersen imagines #freddy andersen imagines #toronto maple leafs writings #toronto maple leafs imagines #nhl imagines #nhl writing #freddie andersen x reader #my writings

[tvandenneagram]

Hi! I was wondering if you are planning on ever typing The 100 characters

Hi, Anon

We’ve been asked for The 100 a few times, so we’ve decided to a quick-typings of the characters. We’ve only seen some of the early seasons and  read a bit about their characters and personality, so we’ve tried to do the best we can with what we know.

NOTE: We will be doing some of the other characters in another post, this is Part 1.

Clarke Griffin: 1w2

Clarke is principled, responsible and self-sacrificing. Clarke has shown time and time again that she believes in saving everybody. She has a strong belief in the greater good and wants to do the ‘right thing.’ Clarke usually thinks before acting, but has been shown to act impulsively in certain situations. Sometimes her moral compass can make her make decisions based on absolutes that can lead to extreme consequences.

Clarke is very idealistic and tries to avoid hurting others if she can. For example, she stops the other Delinquents from killing Anya (their enemy) because it isn’t necessary. However, she does sometimes torture others, especially if she feels it is a necessary evil or if she is persuaded by Bellamy.

1s can become jaded and selfish when they are in the unhealthy levels, which we see with Clarke. After the aftermath of the Second Nuclear Apocalypse, Clarke becomes singularly interested in protecting Madi. Clarke begins to lose her own humanity and begins acting in self-interest, rather than for the greater good. Clarke shows her wing 2 as she is more people-oriented and emotional than a 1w9 would be.

Quotes

“This isn’t about saving my people. It’s about saving the human race.”

“I bear it, so they don't have too.”

"While we're on the subject, why is it that everyone thinks me wanting Jasper to not die is a bad thing? Like I'm such a downer. I can be fun."

“I tried... I tried to be the good guy.”

“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that?”

Lexa: cp6w5

This may be a bit of a controversial take on Lexa’s type, as I’ve seen her typed as both an 8 and a 1. However, I think Lexa’s main motivations are to fulfil her duties as Heda and to keep her people safe. Lexa is a very strong and fierce leader, but I think she has to take on these traits to gain respect from her people. 6s and 8s both have a real emphasis on ‘survival’ which is really prominent in Lexa’s character.

Lexa is protective, dutiful, strong and loyal. She is a fierce leader that isn’t afraid to go against the traditions of her people for peace. Lexa doesn’t like hurting people and when she is forced to punish people, she tries to choose the most human punishment. She doesn’t use her power for her own interests or vengeance, as she only punishes people to gain justice for her people. Lexa also doesn’t like conflict and is seen as trying to bring peace to the factions, despite the wishes of those around her.

Lexa was not always closed-off to love and did not always believe love is a weakness. This is due to her relationship with Costia as she blames herself for her death because she couldn’t keep her safe. Hence, Lexa emotionally closes herself off from love under the guise of it being a weakness. This changes when she meets Clarke as she begins to let her guard down a little bit more and allows herself to be vulnerable with Clarke. In her relationship with Clarke, Lexa realises that she is worthy of love and that it is not a vulnerability. Lexa has a wing 5 as she is more emotionally reserved and introverted than a wing 7 would be.

Quotes

"My mistakes? Azgeda cut off Costia's head and delivered it to my bed, and still I let them into my alliance! I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty!"

“I know how hard that is for you. You think our ways are harsh, but that's how we survive.”

“Blood must have blood.”

“Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.”

“Some on my side say that's not enough. They wanted the murderer to suffer as our tradition demands. But they do not know that your suffering will be worse. What you did tonight will haunt you until the end of your days.”

Bellamy Blake: cp6w7

Bellamy is protective, assertive and responsible. Due to his childhood and his relationship with Octavia, Bellamy has always had a focus on seeking safety for himself and his family. Bellamy has a take-charge attitude and isn’t above bending the rules to survive. He is also very loyal to those he loves, and will go to great lengths to protect and help them.

As leader, Bellamy becomes controlling and begins acting in self-interest, rather than for the people. However, he realises his actions are wrong and does feel guilt over the consequences of his actions. Bellamy also did help the Delinquents survive and adapt to the conditions.

Bellamy seems to want to find meaning and something to believe in, which is common for 6s. For example, he accepts the simplistic view that the Sky People are the ‘good guys’ and the Grounder are the ‘bad guys.’ Likewise, after being trapped in Etheria, he becomes very loyal to the Disciple’s cause. This can happen to 6s when they are in the unhealthy levels, as they begin to develop an ‘us against them’ mentality and become obsessed with belief systems. Bellamy shows his wing 7 as he is more expressive than a wing 5.

Quotes

“Who we are, and who we need to be to survive are very different things.”

“I was so angry at you for leaving. I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

"We all have things to answer for things that shouldn't be forgiven but are. because we did them for our people -- our family."

“I’m not leaving my friends! I can’t do that again.”

“Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you in your sleep.”

Raven Reyes: 5w6

Raven was a bit hard to type as she has traits of 1, 5, 6 and 8. I was mostly between 1w9 and 5w6 as she is very concerned with doing the right thing. However, I settled on 5w6 as I think she is more motivated by gaining knowledge so she can be a useful member of the Delinquents.

Raven is intelligent, resourceful and judgmental. Raven is a very useful member of the Delinquents due to her strong intellect. She is also very tough and will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. Sometimes, Raven can be a bit unemotional and seems to use her wit and sarcasm as a defence mechanism. However, as the series progresses we can see the emotional toll her actions has taken on her. 

5s are able to separate their emotions and fears from the task at hand, which we see with Raven. Raven is very mentally strong and is able to overcome many setbacks. She is also not afraid to speak her mind, especially if she thinks she knows more than the others. Raven shows her wing 6 as she is more practical and person-oriented than a 5w4.

Quotes

"It's not your blood that defines you. It's your heart."

"I can barely walk, and my shoulder's killing me. But, my brain is all kind of awesome."

"Well, my mom was AWOL most of my life. When she did show up, it was empty-handed. Pretty sure she had me just to trade in my rations for moonshine."

"Everywhere you go, death follows. You always want to save everyone. What you don't realize is you're the one we need saving from."

#the 100 #clexa #the 100 cw #tv #bellarke #the 100 clexa #clarke x lexa #clarke x bellamy #clarke x finn #clarke griffin #bob morley #bellamy blake #commander lexa #enneagram #eliza taylor #the 100 enneagram #type 6 #type 1 #type 5 #6w5 #6w7 #cp6w5 #cp6w7 #1w2 #5w6 #alycia debnam carey #personality types #character analysis #cw #raven reyes