#there is no normalcy in this world they are living in. none of the characters know what being truly normal is

[imisshomestuck]

Alpha Kids Rewrite

I have taken an interest in rewriting the four Alpha Kids stories and characters recently. Consider this more like the first draft of an idea. The general idea is to make their stories more fun. The idea is that the story is a bit less grounded, a bit less serious. Though, funnily enough, I changed Dirk dramatically to be much more serious.

Jane Crocker:

Raised under the Empress’s watchful eye. Jane rarely sees her guardian. Jane is informed of what her great grandmother wants by the many robot drones that take care of her. None seem human-like but they can all talk, not that they talk to her often.

Jane has been trained by those drones to prepare her for her future role, though she isn't certain what that role is. She is trained in fine arts, baking, literature, and can speak a language that she is told never to let her friends know about. Most importantly, Jane is also trained to defend herself. She doesn't have any body guards, because she doesn't leave her manor. She's never been outside. It's later revealed Jane lives on the moon, though she doesn't know that.

The years took their toll on Jane and she is stubborn, cold. She has no normalcy in her life but she has stability, discipline, direction. Jane is proud of who she is and proud of what she is being shaped into.

She hates having free time on her hands because she thinks the time could be better spent. In reality, she hates being left alone. Freedom is something she doesn't like the idea of because she doesn't know what to do with herself. Still, she can talk to her three friends. Out loud, to herself, she would regard their relationships as a waste of time and energy. But Jane does love them, she just doesn't want to get too attached incase one day her great-grandma decides to take them away from her too, like she has with so many of Jane's things.

Jane hardly had time to spend with her dad before he passed away. Jane suspects he was killed but she does not know by who. She is determined to find out but with her duties being what they are she has to put that down until she is older. Yes, her dad was killed by her great-grandma.

Growing up, she idolized her poppop and had a childhood dream of being a detective. She put childhood dreams to bed. Still, sometimes she bakes something for herself and visits her grandfather’s body. She sits at his feet and pretends he is alive and comforting her. That he made cookies for her and tells her stories of his life and her dad's childhood. She doesn’t want to admit that to anyone. She never lets anyone know that she is lonely.

Jane’s relationships:

Jane and Jake: Jane would never admit it out loud, but she has a school girl crush on Jake. She thinks it’s a thing that will pass. She views it to be a weakness that she is sweet on him. She listens to everything he says and comforts him often without expecting anything in return. Jane understands that is a normal relationship but she never thought that anything in her life was "normal." There’s no point in pursuing a romance or a friendship if it won’t go anywhere. Still there is a part of her that wishes she could be a normal girl without all the crushing obligations. Though, she knows she is privileged. That’s why she obeys her great-grandma and doesn’t question what she’s being trained for. Jake at times pushes her to talk more about her training. Jane doesn’t have the heart to tell him she’s a capable fighter. There’s a part of her that wants to be saved by him. Sometimes, when the game starts and they all have already met in person, she'll catch herself cheering him on, pretending that he's a hero.

Jane and Dirk: Jane is always amused at Dirk’s remarks. She is well read and had the best tutors. Dirk was self taught and Dirk thinks that he is more intelligent than she is, something Jane picks up on. Dirk often brings up philosophy, which Jane dismisses as worthless. Thinking about your place in the world is useless, action is all that matters. Even though they don't see eye to eye on anything, they get along well.

Jane and Roxy: Jane lives vicariously through Roxy. She enjoys that Roxy does anything she pleases. Jane thinks it’s empowering to drink, curse and flirt. Though Jane would never do that herself. Roxy is one of the childish things she is holding onto. Overtime, Jane no longer thinks her relationship with Roxy is a bad habit. Jane later thinks that Roxy is someone who is trying to find herself through experimenting. Jane wants to bring Roxy more stability in her life, but knows it’s not her place. Jane starts seeing Roxy more as a confused person when Jane starts to see that she, herself is lost. Everything Jane is is someone else’s design. It’s hard for her to reject what she’s been created to be. Roxy helps her through it more than anyone.

Roxy Lalonde:

Roxy makes references to music like how John makes references to movies. She sings to herself whenever she is idle. She is always poking fun at everything, especially herself. Roxy enjoys fireworks, she has a sense of pageantry. Everything about her is bold and fun.

Roxy is always trying to find herself. She wears different outfits and does her hair and makeup in many different ways. She jumps from hobby to hobby every week and is always inspired to try new things. She has a million projects going at once and if she ever finishes them she celebrates.

Roxy sometimes will binge drink, sometimes she’ll get sober for months. She comes off like she’s sporadic to others. Roxy thinks she’s just trying to get in touch with herself. When she first shows up in the story, she looks like a girly-girl, sporting all pink and with tons of makeup. She cycles through having different looks and wearing different wigs. She is always cheerful and bright, though she hides how intelligent she actually is behind a carefree smile and bad jokes. She likes to be a ditz for "fun," but all of her friends get that she's smart.

Roxy is incredibly intelligent. She is skilled with coding, code-breaking, programming, and understanding advanced technology. Everyone thinks Roxy likes to play dumb, the truth is Roxy can’t put her intelligence into words. Roxy often stumbles as she speaks or types. Sometimes she lies and says it’s because she’s been drinking. It was easier to just develop a personality that embraced her ditzyness.

Roxy grew up isolated from the world. She could speak to the Carapacians but they were not the same as other humans. Roxy’s relationships were always behind a screen. She didn’t have much in her life, but she did have her mother.

Roxy’s mom was a poet, an author and could see the future. With help from Jake’s grandma, there is technology that allows Alpha Rose to speak to her daughter. She also wrote her many notes and a strange journal that Roxy suspects might be a prophecy. Rose’s mom also left behind robots that were made to train Roxy to defend herself against the Empress’s attacks.

Roxy knows her mom is proud of her and is worried for her, but sometimes her mom acts a bit cold like she’s trying to put distance between the two. The last time Roxy spoke to her mom, Alpha Rose actually told her that she loved her and she wishes that she could have been more to her and someday, someone will take her place and be everything Roxy ever needed. Roxy’s relationships:

Roxy and Dirk: Roxy makes fun of Dirk by singing to him, "Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box. Religion is a smile on a dog"

When she talks to Dirk about his bro, she acts a bit stupid about whatever he's saying. He gets that she's joking. But then she'll somehow manage to casually quote lyrics like, "In a world of post-modern fad, what was good now is bad!" showing Dirk that she does understand what his bro's movies are about since she relates the terrible films to postmodernism but at the same time saying Alpha bro's irony is a stupid fad. Roxy fell in love with Dirk fully. She would happily give her heart over to him and one time she even sent him a large plush heart she made just for him. He kept it but told her point blank he wasn’t interested in being with anyone until they get Sburb over and done with. Roxy knows Dirk has feelings for Jake, but she still likes to play around with Dirk. Sometimes she can’t help but do it. He has such warm feelings for her, he lets her.

Roxy and Jane: She makes fun of Jane by singing 9 to 5 at some point, "There's a better life. And you think about it, don't you?"

Jane sometimes is a bit blunt, she can be a bit short with Roxy. Roxy just laughs at her and doesn’t take the words to heart, she thinks Jane is just going through things and often tells her that. Jane is appreciative. She knows she’s difficult.

Roxy likes that Jane has everything all figured out and looks up to her for it. Roxy tries to be more like her mother once cause she felt inspired by Jane to follow her own guardian. Roxy can’t write to save her life, but she has fun making up stories just like she has fun trying out different hobbies and clothing.

Roxy and Jake:

Roxy tries not to sing around him or even quote lyrics, otherwise he'll tell her that she has a beautiful voice.

Jake is in love with her. He tells her that often. He believes he sees her real self, a fun loving girl who is open to anything and is always willing to help others. Roxy tries to steer the conversation away from romance when he talks like that, he is understanding. She likes him because he isn’t pushy or clingy. She wants to be more like him when she talks to Dirk. Roxy often can’t help herself. She ends up flirting with Dirk and saying it’s all a joke. Sometimes she flirts with Jake too so she can keep up the illusion that all her flirting is just friendly banter, but she tries not to because she doesn’t want to lead him on. She wants everything to stay like it is. Just friendships, no romance. Though she won't admit it, she has pictured what it would be like to be with Jake. She thinks he's cute.

Jake English:

Jake is headstrong. He is always puffing up his chest and role playing the role of the hero. He loves comic books and knows everything about them. He sometimes references them. One time telling Dirk about how a red lantern replaces their heart when they join the red lantern core and can’t leave unless a blue lantern helps save them. Also that the orange lanterns are selfish jerks. Yes, this is a reference to John helping Dave.

Jake is always optimistic in the face of everything and is overly happy. He encourages everyone, which when they are all worn down and tired is something that gets old. Even Roxy gets tired of Jake's attitude after they have to walk for miles through old ruins. Though, later in the story, the team all learn to love Jake's optimism and they playfully make fun of him for it. The three of them bond over shitting on him, Jake loves to see them get along.

Jake has rose-tinted glasses on all the time. He thinks everything really is like one big game. He imagines being a hero and playing that role, he does pretty well, but what really amazes him is seeing his friends become better fighters. When Dirk outshines him, he gains more of an interest in him. Jake also constantly praising Jane for her fighting prowess. It's heavily suggested that Jake gets a crush on all three of the Alpha kids, okay, maybe more than suggested. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Who he ends up with is up to the audience to decide.

Jake’s relationships: Jake and Roxy: Jake had fallen helplessly in love with Roxy before the story starts. When they start the game, Jake brags that he is a skilled marksmen, but being around Roxy makes him miss every target. Jake is distracted by Roxy which annoys Dirk and Jane but they hardly talk about it. The focus of the story is less on romance, more on action. Which is just Jake's speed.

Jake is a good friend to Roxy, complimenting her for always being thoughtful. He's convinced he sees the real her, which Roxy eventually tells him that there is no such thing, she's always changing. Which throws Jake for a loop, eventually he has to admit that maybe he doesn't really know Roxy as well as he thought, but he does know that she's smart and kind. That's what he saw.

Never once does he ever doubt his feelings. He always thinks she's beautiful, no matter what persona she adopts.

Jake and Dirk:

Dirk is stoic, hard to read. Dirk doesn't speak that much when he is around Jake, only saying what he needs to and keeps his eyes focus on the mission ahead of him. Dirk stays focus on his tasks and doesn't do small talk. It's revealed slowly through the story that Dirk is interested in Jake. Jake is made aware of this through Auto-Responder. Jake admits to Hal that since he met Dirk in person, he can see the appeal of men.

Jake and Jane:

Jake has an interest in helping her, rescuing her and playing the hero. She is actually the thing that puts him more in touch with reality. He can't just strip her of all her problems. Jake has to have more of a practical mindset when talking with her. He can't role play being a hero with her. However, when they meet in person, Jane cheers him on when he fights. This makes Jake even more confident he's on the right track. Jane is what helps make Jake into an actual hero.

Dirk Strider:

Dirk doesn't do the irony thing, that's his bro's thing. Dirk is completely serious about everything he does and he always means what he says. Most of what Dirk has in his life is something belonging to his bro. That or fishing nets, fixed knives to scale fish, things for survival, practical things. Important tools. Maybe one rainbow dash doll is on his desk, but that's not his, that was his bro's.

As stated before, Jake's grandma had knowledge of alein technology that allowed the user to speak with anyone at any point in time. She gave this technology to a young woman who contacted her, Rose's mom. Roxy, Dirk and Jake had been using it to be in contact with their guardians. Dirk is always able to talk to his bro, though we do not see their conversations. We're told that Dirk tattooed himself at the age of thirteen using a tattoo gun his bro got him. His bro was upset by that but he had to ensure that Dirk was able to tattoo himself to keep the timeline stable. When Dirk meets Dave, Dave loves his tattoo. Dave is everything that Dirk was looking for in a brother.

Dirk and Hal:

Dirk is a character that is blunt, he always says what he means and it makes him sound cold. Dirk doesn't say much, unless someone peeks his interest which isn't hard to do. Dirk secretly loves My Little Pony and things for little girls. Hal openly loves these things. Hal is a childish version of Dirk, always telling people how he feels and asking people to say nice things to him and praise him. It annoys Dirk to no end. Dirk tells everyone else that it's just this AIs way of getting back at him for creating him. Hal and Dirk both know that this is who Dirk really is, someone clingy who loves cutesy things.

Hal gets a body during the game, a real robot body that Dirk had been working on and finishes up. He does it so Hal can make his own identity and he purposefully tries to make Hal's body look different from himself. He also makes Hal much shorter, forcing him to look permanently thirteen. Hal often cuddles up to all the other Alpha kids. Something they all learn to love. Dirk refuses to let Hal cling to him, though Hal knows Dirk craves the attention. Hal is what Dirk wants to be and he's free to be it. Hal also loves to make fun of Dirk and belittle him, which is why Hal doesn't act his age at all. Hal acts super childish. Dirk acts like he is over the idea of trying to understand himself and settles on the idea that he must just be an asshole. In the end he admits that all he ever does is beat himself up to fit this image. Dirk lets go of that more and more throughout the story.

Dirk and Jake:

Dirk is a bit frustrated at Jake but he does a good job at faking being okay. He wants to impress Jake and succeeded in doing it. At some point, Jake tells him that Dirk helped him realize something about himself that he wouldn't have known if Dirk didn't come into his life. Dirk is surprised to hear that Jake has an interest in him, cracking his exterior.

Dirk and Jane:

Dirk thinks she's smart, disciplined, and mislead. He tries to convince her there is more to life than blindly following orders. Eventually, he succeeds. Jane though is stressed when she leaves her old life behind. Dirk actually lends her a shoulder to cry on at some point. He often comes off as cold, but he actually has a soft heart. Dirk just doesn't like seeming vulnerable, he'd rather be the shoulder to cry on. It's the role he's comfortable with.

Dirk and Roxy:

He loves her as if she was a sister, Dirk views Roxy as someone to protect and watch over. Roxy is clearly not helpless, but he dots on her. Roxy doesn't mind it, though she tells Dirk that him always taking care of her makes it impossible to get over him. Dirk tells her to keep her eyes focused, survival is their only priority. Dirk is the one constantly telling the entire group that, and Roxy tells him to take his own advice.

For the Story Overall:

The Beta Kids are all sixteen at this point and are not shown at all in Act 6 until the Alpha Kids are ready to see them. The Alpha Kids did have important trials to go through, but their trials required team work to pull off. Once the Beta Kids meet them, they also introduce the rest of the survivors. The Alpha Kids are much more focused on interacting with their family's counterparts. Over time though, Jake notices he gets along with John, Roxy and Dave, Dirk and Rose, as well as Jane and Jade.

Jake saved his grandma's ashes. His sprite ends up being a perfect parallel to Nannasprite. The two of them are sweet, but Jake's grandma is much more bitter about what the Empress did to her. Jake's grandma is often shown cleaning the inside of Jake's guns while Nannasprite cooks them all food.

The Alpha Kids and Beta Kids all get a chance to fight together. Jane and John fight together. Jake and Jade fight together back-to-back while their sprites aid them. The Strider brother's fight together, then Roxy fades in, Rose follows with a flash. The four of them are considered a family and help each other in battle.

When everything is over, Roxy and Dirk always hang around each other. They act like they are two pees in a pod, though they are not together. Whenever Dave is around them, Dirk will jokingly say “don’t take that tone of voice with your mother,” always getting a laugh out of Roxy. If Roxy still has feelings for Dirk or not is not explored.

There is a montage at the end during the credits. Photos scroll by and we see all the Alpha Kids and Beta Kids dressing up to amuse Roxy. Dave is dressed up as little miss texas while Cowboy John walks down a strip of red fabric that Kanaya puts on the ground. We see an image of every character and what they choose to dress up as, of course Dirk is dressed up just like Dave. Dirk tries hard not to be embarrassed and to be as stone-faced as Dave, Hal loves every second of it. Hal is a princess. In another photo, Dirk is gifted a Rainbow Dash plush. Jake and John watch movies and read comic together. Roxy and Jade teach Rose how to shoot. Rose and Roxy are both doing Dave and Dirk's make up. Roxy makes Dirk look cute, Rose makes Dave look goth. Dirk and Karkat watch chickflicks together. We get more silly things like that.

#homestuck #rant #homestuck rewrite

[shakingparadigm]

what is the theory that ivan manipulated the event where till and mizi met the wagyein?

It's not a theory, actually! It's confirmed that Ivan orchestrated the whole event. The true reason as to why however is still unknown. The information provides more context to this scene, though:

During the earlier times of ALNST the most rational explanation for this scene was that Till ran after a flower crown (presumably Mizi's) and Ivan followed him in out of curiosity. Now we know that Ivan was conveniently just standing there because he was waiting.

Side note, I find it heartbreaking (and maybe a little funny, sorry) that Till most likely didn't notice Ivan in this scene. That's just like him, isn't it. Always too busy running after Mizi while Ivan trails behind, an ever-present shadow.

I'm not sure how Ivan manipulated the circumstances for both of them to end up there, but it is confirmed that everything was intentional. What strikes me most is how they describe this particular scene:

I can't copy down what they said word-for-word (Patreon info), but they described Ivan watching "creepily" as Till and Mizi are faced with danger. We know that Ivan was familiar with the Cerberus wagyein beforehand, enough to touch its teeth and even to rest himself inside its maw. To Ivan, the wagyein is not dangerous, but to Till and Mizi, it could be. Ivan prepared the wagyein, led them there, and watched "creepily" from afar as Till fell on his knees, seemingly injured.

The closest I can get to making sense of Ivan's "scheme" is that he wanted to see how other children would react in a dangerous situation. Ivan's always been an observer, after all, and he's learned to survive by copying the more "normal" behaviors of his peers. This situation occured when Ivan was still young and had not yet developed his more charming mask, so perhaps he staged this encounter to study a situational response, to learn and mimic the emotion of fear. And what better subjects for the experiment than two of the most expressive and reactive humans of their batch? It helps that he was already fixated on Till beforehand, too. I think Ivan became irreversibly obssessed after this incident, especially since it's framed as a turning point in Ivan's life, comparing Till to the stars.

This is just my attempt at an interpretation, though. It could very well be for another reason. He most likely chose Till and Mizi specifically for personal reasons, not just for reaction. I'm still not sure on the purpose behind the whole thing.

The team wanted to capture Ivan's "dark emotions" through the shot of his stalking, which could relate to his more sinister intentions. His gaze can be read in a few different ways, though. Curiosity, interest, fear, etc. Maybe that's why they decided to redraw the shot in ROUND 6.

I think this better sells the feeling they were trying to convey.

#ivan u fucked up little guy. #also okay i just wanna clear this up #i know i make a lot of posts about ivans darker side and his more problematic traits #but this isn't me trying to villainize him or reduce him down to “toxic yaoi” #I HOPE YOU GUYS KNOW ALL MY TOXIC YAOI POSTS ARE LIGHTHEARTED. #i just want to clarify that ivan was always intended to be a darker and complicated character. even since his debut in round 3 #the way i refer to ivan (“twisted” “creepy” “obssessive” etc) are literally the direct words used by q and v themselves to describe him #but despite that id like to emphasize that i don't see ivan as a villain or a completely bad person. hes complicated #there is no normalcy in this world they are living in. none of the characters know what being truly normal is #this isn't me condoning his actions #but it has to be acknowledged that alnst is fucked up in nature. we can't expect perfect relationships from people who are born to die #plus ivan has a lot more layers past the “dark” parts. he's constantly battling himself and his desires #especially at the end of round 6 where he performs a myriad of conflicting actions (kiss strangle peck smile) #thanks to the r6 production notes we now know that ivan was going through a rapid internal conflict #“sure and unsure at the same time” #there is sooo much to ivan. his low self-esteem. his desire and possessiveness despite knowing till will never love him #his VEHEMENT insistence that till will never love him vs his desperate persistence in trying anyway #uh i need to shut up i think #anyways sorry. just wanted to clarify my thoughts on him in case people think im. yk. #in short. hes a fucked up little freak and he fascinates me. this poor tragic child. i love him. #SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY #alnst #alien stage #alien stage ivan #alnst ivan #asks

[daisymylove]

I sincerely don't know if Im alone on this one, so I want to know what yall think. Again, I may get some heat for this, but it’s my honest opinion.

Something I noticed in my reread is that I grew a slight dislike for lucie in chot, and as someone who had always previously rooted for her, I’m currently annoyed at myself.The thing is, Lucie IS a very privileged and sheltered girl.She was born into a wealthy, loving family and, because of her apparent “normalcy”, never suffered the brunt of the shadowhunter prejudice like Tessa and James.

None of this is a problem in itself, but my point here is that there were always other people protecting, thinking and worrying for her, so I think not only she never realized how precarious her family’s position actually was, but also has no true understanding of consequences and how the “real world” works.She knew in some level that what she was doing regarding jesse was dangerous, but was never truly afraid of repercussions, bc unconsciously she knows there will be someone to catch her . And while I do like to see a character become aware of its own privileges along the narrative, there’s no growing here.She finished the book without ever realizing it, because everything was just SO easy and convenient, and that bothers me greatly.

In all fairness, how could she? she does whatever she wants with no consequences.

I feel so conflicted bc while I actually cheered when she brought jesse back in choi, and always shipped them, I find the outcome of her actions to be low-key infuriating.Lucie wasn’t willing to give Jesse up, but also never seriously considered giving up her comfortable life to start over with him somewhere.That ludicrous and set to fail jeremy blackthorn plan wasn’t even her idea, it was the people around her finding a way to fix her “mistakes” to save all of their asses from jail.

Lucie could’ve had her marks stripped, her father could’ve lost the institute, it could’ve costed Tessa’s life.Those guys had been waiting 25 years for the slightest opportunity to pounce on her, does anyone seriously believe they wouldn’t all automatically think the warlock mother was involved? How come there was some major necromancy going on under her roof and she had no idea?  we know she didnt, but still   All of this was severely downplayed and there was little to no conflict regarding it, and anyone can correct me if im wrong, but none of that ever dawned on lucie.She never fully thought about how her family would be implicated, and nobody brought that up to her.Zero confict just chill, I guess this is our life now .Dont get me wrong, I dont want that shitstorm to actually happen,I just wanted her to become AWARE of it

 she literally brought home this complete stranger to them all (we know jesse, the characters dont) that was 8 years her senior (it doesnt matter his body was frozen for 7 years, mentally jesse is 24), Tatiana’s son, and had been dead up until last tuesday, but nobody save perhaps jessamine, and god it pains me to agree with jessamine had a problem with that.Instant acceptance, no resistance, no objections at all.All it would take for that lie to crumble would be ONE trial by the sword at any point of their lives and everybody was as chill as chicken joe from surfs up

Her fight with Cordelia pissed me off too. Lucie meddled on something she had no right and no knowledge of,and demanded things of Cordelia without even being willing to hear her out. ”oh the poor thing is suffering so much bc of you, why can’t you just take him back?” GIRL, FOR ALL SHE KNOWS, UNTIL A WEEK AGO, HOME BOY WAS SWEARING UNDYING LOVE AND BURNING DOWN MANORS FOR GRACE BLACKTHORN. 

WE know poor james was ensorcelled and fighting it, but what was cordelia supposed to think of it? How dare she assume that Cordelia “took advantage of James going to Cornwal to run away with matthew”? 

The demon of secrets in edom scene was plain ridiculous.”yo I had a childhood crush on your brother, sorry for never telling you, I was embarrassed” is not a big deal.The fact that they needed demonic intervention for THAT so late in the book baffles me

While I do think most characters were severely nerfed on this book and behaved ooc on several occasions (swear to god I have some mild ptsd from all the times cordelia ran and did unhinged things) , my conclusion about Lucie’s arc is that she took her good life for granted, endangered her entire family, didnt grow from the experience, but still got everything she wanted with no consequences or sacrifices.She lost a cousin along the way, but who cares about that guy? what was his name again? Its my understanding that Lucie never even faced a trial.Thats unrealistic and bad writing, if you ask me.When I think it over, the word that comes to me is...spoiled.

And dont get me started on the fact that she found out Malcom was planning on doing full blown necromancy and didnt do anything about it.How that had no repercussions AT ALL still blows my mind.

 The worst part for me is that I genuinely believe Lucie deserved better you know? 

If lucie and cordelia hadnt been allowed to become parabatai, and jesse had received some other minor yet life changing punishment, and we had seen a trial scene I would’ve been satisfied, because at least it wouldn’t have been nothing.

#lucie herondale #chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #chain of gold #Chain of Iron #the last hours #tlh #jesse blackthorn #grace blackthorn #cordelia carstairs #james herondale #will herondale #tessa gray #kit lightwood #tessa herondale #Matthew Fairchild #malcom fade #tsc characters #tsc critical #tsc chronicles #tsc

[punkeropercyjackson]

God/Titan/Dark!Percy being so popular is genuinely so maddening.Percy's spent the whole franchise and even before it hating authority figures because he grew up in it and BEFORE it knowing first-hand how abusive and corrupted they are and he was already a bully beater for a long while by The Lightning Thief and direct action against Luke's fascist ass was his whole motivation in Pjo and in Hoo he STILL dosen't take the gods shit but dosen't turn evil either because he's not a pussy like he was and he also does things to help fix the system like using his wish to ask the Gods to actually do things for their kids and encouraging the less priviliged myth beings to fight for their rights and better treatment too and he respects women bendlessly and adopted Nico and Hazel as his younger siblings and pseudo-kids because they had no positive living adult figures in their lives and thinks rich things are corny and that hypermasculinity is a burden he dosen't wanna participate in and finds gross and unappealing on other guys and is accidentally autistic-coded on every level and there's way more evidence for that than any male queerness for him and canonically dosen't want to be super powerful and WAS LITERALLY A TEENAGE ANARCHIST

And yet.Supposedly.According to Pjo fans,none of this matters and was bad writing because Percy's a 'manly man' and 'the sassiest' so they make him a sellout and unironically think he'd be friends with the t*rf wizard book series protagonist who's the embodiment of 'passive aggressively bigoted abled cishet white guy' and grew up to be a fucking cop.Like fuck!No wonder a certain unfortunately large group sanatize Hobie Brown by downplaying how anti-corruption and nonconforming and what a big sweetie he is in the name of making a better world because punk means violence IN THE SAME OF KINDNESS and kindness to those who experience underserved violence and always prioritizing those over normalcy even if it makes things harder for yourself and taking pride in your weirdness yet Atsv fans say he's fan of fucking Taylor Swift and make him toxic and condesending because 'that's just what guys are like'-It makes perfect sense that you guys can't handle a character who's entire point is to be the embodiment of what punk's supposed to be,you guys couldn't even handle Percy Jackson

#percy jackson #perseo jackson #black percy #latino percy #punk!percy #autistic percy jackson #transfem percy jackson #bigender percy jackson #team parent percy jackson #anti harry potter #percy jackson defense squad #hobie brown #ace hobie #trans hobie brown #unlabeled hobie brown #autistic hobie brown #team dad hobie #anti taylor swift #hobie brown deserves better #pjo gods slander #anti luke castellan #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #bi aroaceflux percy jackson #pjo #atsv #spiderman #pastel punk tag #x black!reader #summerposting

[sas-soulwriter]

My Debut novel

Title: "The disappearance"

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Setting: A small town in Germany

Current Word Count: 30,000

Narrative: First person

Tense: Present tense

Topics/Trigger Warnings:

Mental health (panic attacks, depression)

Definition of having life "under control"

Sexism, homophobia

Grief

Summary:

Ever since Janna's sister disappeared, she struggles to engage with life, feeling apathetic and paralyzed. When her sister is found dead, Janna realizes that everything has changed irreversibly. Caught between anger and grief, she embarks on a quest to uncover the identity of her sister's assailant, stumbling upon an unimaginable secret. As she navigates this dark journey, her past resurfaces, raising questions about the choices she made.

Characters:

Janna (she/her): A 23-year-old (former) university student, the protagonist. She's a deeply sensitive and calm individual who has experienced profound pain and sorrow, transforming these emotions into something much darker. She resists returning to normalcy, with her sole focus on discovering who harmed her sister.

Kory (he/him): Janna's supportive best friend who stands by her side, emphasizing that she is not alone in her struggle.

Marik (he/him): Sophie's boyfriend, unknown to Janna before her sister's disappearance. Janna finds him dubious, suspecting that he shares a connection with the darkness that now consumes her.

Sophie (she/her): Janna's younger sister, who vanished and was later found murdered. A lively and vibrant soul with many secrets.

Quotes that reminde me of my book:

"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." - Albert Camus

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself." - Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

"All roads lead to the realization of the insignificance of all things, but none lead back." - Juli Zeh

"I am simply mortal, like other people catch a cold. In every second, I feel the symptoms." - Juli Zeh

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." - Oscar Wilde

"So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." - Stephen Chbosky

"I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am." - Sylvia Plath

#creative writing #writing #writblr #writers block #writing advice #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr #writing tips #words #english literature #reading #reading list #reading challenge #reading community #reading recommendations #books and reading #bookblr #books #bookworm #book blog

[rottenpumpkin13]

Sometimes I wonder. Of all the characters in FF7 that were ruined or violated by Shinra….like the OG main cast that were broken by Shinra in different ways…, the common people, the villagers, the SOLDIERs, the employees…all the people that were used and experimented on…the Turks, some of whom were likely orphans cruelly raised by Shinra, the powerful Tsviets and Deepground SOLDIERs, all humans that were tormented and brutally pushed to their mental and physical limits…, and all of Hojo’s broken specimens…

Angeal and Genesis…all of them…

Out of all of these people, many snapped or lost their minds or resisted or became cruel or lost themselves…

But none of them were like Sephiroth. None of them were the strongest warrior of mankind that nearly destroyed the planet out of hatred for everything humans stood for and were. None of them snapped on the level he did where they wanted to destroy the entire world. I had to sit and wonder why.

But then I thought, maybe what sets him apart from all of them is two simple things. His father was the worst of humanity and his partial “mother” was an alien creature set on destroying humanity.

When you think about it, Jenova and Hojo become like two extremes of opposing forces and Sephiroth is the offspring.

I might be too optimistic but something tells me that if he didn’t have these two simple connections, he would have stayed sane or else not lashed out in the most explosive way of all. He would have been more like the others. Maybe hateful of humans like Weiss but not determined to wipe them out.

Shinra ruined everyone, but I don’t think Shinra alone could not have ruined Sephiroth. Jenova and Hojo were the only beings strong enough to push him over the edge when you consider it.

If you think about it Sephiroth was bred from the beginning to inevitably break down.

In my opinion, this isn't the case for other characters. Although everyone had reasons to choose their paths, they didn’t succumb as Sephiroth did. What sets them apart is that everyone had seemingly normal lives until something Shinra-related ruined them. Even Aerith got to experience some semblance of normalcy in the slums with Elmyra, and even Yuffie, who grew up witnessing her country being massacred by Shinra, had the freedom to choose her own path. Vincent, Cloud, Barrett, Tifa, Cid—everyone was their own person with freedom and something that set them apart from Shinra before it ruined their lives in some way.

Sephiroth never had that.

He was raised in an environment that molded him, stripped away his humanity, and reduced him to an obedient killing machine. Despite having humanity and a good heart initially, it had to have been consistently suppressed by Hojo, who lied to him about his mother, the Jenova project, and the entirety of how he came to be.

It looks like Jenova emerged at the peak of Sephiroth's breakdown. Whether she controlled him to some extent or was simply there as he lost his grip on reality⏤serving as his final comfort in the form of "his mother," ⏤is up to you. He snaps either way, whether mind control was involved or not due to the stressors he was facing at the time.

It doesn't help that he's the most powerful being in his universe that was manipulated into compliancy through lies by Hojo from the very beginning. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Another point is that other characters had time to absorb and reel from what happened to them, unlike Sephiroth. This is what sets him apart from Genesis and Angeal. Genesis had the time to orchestrate a plan, and Angeal had someone there, with events happening at spaced intervals—not all at once, like what happened in Nibelheim, where Sephiroth went from the reactor to discovering everything in the library in the same night.

The moment Sephiroth experienced a shock and broke down, Jenova was there. He had no room to escape, and the one thing he had sought his whole life—his mother—was there. Even if Sephiroth hadn’t burned down Nibelheim or chosen a non-violent path, his actions would still have been inevitably destructive at some point, whether self-destructive or his Jenova cells finally leading him down a path similar to "his mother’s". Hojo spat him out and Jenova lapped him up.

The factors that went into why Sephiroth ended up the way he is are complex as shit but you're onto something when you say Jenova and Hojo are the two catalysts. Without Hojo using Jenova, Sephiroth would've been a regular person.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #jenova #discussion

[theladybarnes]

DON’T YOU WANT ME, BABY? : CHAPTER ONE

“Do you wanna be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else? Being a freak is the best. I’m a freak!”

▸ summary: tomorrow is halloween, but your scare comes early this year ▸ characters: dustin henderson, steve harrington, jonathan byers & special guest ▸ word count: 4.1k ▸ warnings: none ▸ series masterlist

“Are you sure you can talk to him?”

 “Tina! I can do it.”

 “Because I totally understand if you don’t wanna talk to him. He’s kinda a freak.”

 You stood in the now empty hallway of Hawkins High School. The bell that ended the school day had rung an hour ago, leaving behind a few faculty members, and a couple of students that either had clubs or projects. 

 “He’s just a guy.”

 Tina raised a brow at you, gum smacking in her mouth as she became wary of your confidence. “He’s literally in a metal band. Aren’t you at least a little worried he might be a creep?” The noisy chewing seemed honestly worse than meeting up with the school’s local drug dealer, but you held back that comment to give your friend a smile.

 “Tina, we want the party to be good. If this guy can bring in the good stuff, I can handle a quick meeting in the woods.”

 “Fine,” she sighed, waving you off. “You’ll call me tonight and let me know how it goes?”

 “Definitely.” Turning your wrist over, you adjust the gold watch on your wrist, noting the time. “He should be there by now. I’ll see you tomorrow!” The two of you waved off again, blowing an air kiss to each other before parting ways.

 The walk to the clearing was thankfully more quiet. You honestly could use more peace like this. 

 After these past few months, you couldn’t wait for winter vacations to begin. The new year had been pretty weird to start. After all, how does one go back to normalcy after fighting off a monster with her friends?

 Correction, her friend and two ex friends. But that was all in the past. At least that’s what you’d remind yourself. 

 Jonathan couldn’t help but bring it up once in a while, mostly when he had his own fears of that night that came haunting back. But you were quick to bring him back to earth, reminding him that the world was going to move on regardless if he was ready to get over it or not. 

 Even if you felt the same way sometimes. 

 Cool air met your person once you exited the doors of the school. The parking lot was nearly void of cars as you walked past them towards the woods. To be fair to Tina, this whole meetup was a bit worrisome. Mostly because up until this point you hadn’t even come across Eddie Munson.

 Drugs weren’t really your thing and ever since the previous year, you don’t really drink that much anymore. Especially after Barb went missing. Drinking seemed to lead to bad nights and you didn’t want to come across one any time soon. Despite the fact that you were about to meet up with a guy who could hopefully help supply both of those.

 You barely took a step past the thicket when a voice spoke out to you.

 “I wouldn’t expect even the most popular student to understand that other people have lives. But I would have figured that you had some sort of punctuality.”

 The sight of the dealer was something you had been curious about since Tina asked if you could speak with him that morning. She described him as a greasy, long haired, freak with bad taste, but it was surprisingly more normal than what you were led to believe.

 He had his back to you, giving you a visual of that long rocker hair. The bottom of his jeans and boots were scuffed as well, possibly from walking in through the woods. You couldn’t quite figure out why someone who looked like any other rocker had such a small notoriety. 

 “You think I’m the most popular student?” you grinned, fluffing up your hair a bit.

 The answer caused him to turn around swiftly, giving you a confused look before he chuckled. Stepping away from the tree he had been leaning on to meet you in the middle.

 You stepped down the pathway, moving over towards Eddie. Slowly letting your eyes wander over his features now that he fully faced you. The hairstyle wasn’t really your thing, but the eyes. The dark brown eyes seemed to be piercing through you.

 “What do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?” he asked, extending a hand out to you towards the wooden lunch table. You swatted away some dirt from the bench before sitting down, watching he chose to simply plop down across from you. 

 “Well, you read the note. I’m interested in making a deal with you.”

 “Right,” he nodded, putting a black metal lunch box on the table. “What exactly were you interested in buying?”

 You frowned at that, shaking your head for a second as you glanced over at the metal lunch box. “Whoever said anything about buying?” Returning to his gaze, you smirked a little bit. “I wouldn’t be so dumb as to be caught buying anything on school grounds.”

 He shyly reached over for the box, hiding at his side before he laced his hands together on the table. The glint of his rings shined with the setting sun, his adorned fingers making you distracted.

 “If you weren’t here to buy, why bother with all this?” he waved. 

 “To put it simply, I need you.”

 Astonishment flashed over his face before he cleared his throat to return back to his former composer. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that from a Hawkins girl before.”

 “Well I'm not exactly from Hawkins, aren’t I?”

 He shook his head, slightly amused again. “No, you’re not, Princess.”

 The name nearly threw you off. It was said in a neutral tone that had you questioning if you liked it or not.

 “Back to the point,” you clapped, resting your hands on the table. “Tina’s hosting a Halloween party this year. Her parents are out of town for the week and she’s gonna make sure it’s a party no one forgets.”

 “And you want to personally extend me an invitation?” he asked sardonically. 

 “Yes!”

 The downfall of entering a school without knowing it’s on going social cliques, were moments like this. Where you were left not knowing previous vendettas, rivalries, or in this case, Eddie Munson’s social pariah status.

 “..Really?”

 “Well, an invite with a bit of a purpose.” 

 He crossed his arms over, looking at you curiously. “I’m guessing you’re inviting me to come over and give out, what? Freebies? All for the pleasure of being able to attend?”

 “I won’t lie, that was Tina’s original plan. But I’m a woman of business and can’t see myself screwing you over like that.”

 “How thoughtful of you, Princess.” he sighed. 

 Ignoring his jab, you lean in close enough to rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Hopefully giving him a more friendly disposition. “You come to the party, sell to whoever you want for whatever price you want. All we ask is that the hosts get freebies, and that you get us a keg.”

 He scoffed slightly, leaning in to the same as he returned a more forced smile. “I suppose I’ll have to pay for that too?”

 You popped your hand up from your pocket, holding a crisp twenty dollar bill between your fingers. “On us. Just want anything that gets people drunk enough. If you find a deal you can keep the change for yourself.”

 Eddie seemed slightly taken as his dark eyes looked at your hand. “I suppose you’d call that a tip?” 

 “Sure, if that convinces you to do it.” 

 Gently, he reached out to take the bill from your fingers, brushing your hand slightly with his calloused fingers. Possibly rough from having been playing guitar for some time.  “I’ll do it.” he murmured, having gotten closer while you were distracted by his hands yet again today. His brown eyes looked bigger than ever as he leaned in. 

 “Perfect!” you smiled, “I promise you’ll have a great time.”

 He chuckled a bit, eyes narrowing at you slightly. “You’re different. You know that?”

 “What do you mean?”

 The tip of his tongue flickered over his lips briefly before he shrugged at you. “I just pegged you to be exactly like your friends.”

 “And just how are my friends exactly?”

 “Bitches.” he said simply, making you coil back a bit. “All they do is make this school an uncomfortable place to attend.”

 “Some of them don’t make the place terrible, you know.” Leaning back you crossed your arms against your chest. “We go to school just like everyone else.”

 “Yeah, you go to school. But you also call people names, throw exclusive parties, take reign over certain lunch tables, and let’s not mention what happens during gym class.”

 “Hey, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t do any of that.”

 “I never said you did.” He chuckled. “But your friends sure love to do that. In fact, I think they thrive on it.”

 You stared at him hard for a moment, trying to see just where he was trying to make this conversation go. For a second he seemed sort of into you. Now it seemed like he had come to some sort of realization.

 “This conversation seems very pointed.” you shrugged, not wanting to parley in a debate about high school ethics. “It’s getting late and I really should get going.”

 Eddie didn’t say anything after that, but he did watch you get up and dust your pants off. Letting his gaze linger on you far more comfortably than you’d like. You turned back to him one last time, raising a brow as you pointed over to the lunch box at his side. “So, Halloween, see you there?”

 He gave a small smile, patting the box with his hands so it gave off a slight clinking noise. 

 “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  You let out a content sigh as you stepped out of the steamy shower. The hot water had thankfully washed away most of the day’s stress and left you feeling rejuvenated. Not to mention it helped get off some of the woodsy smell that hit at your hair when you had to leave from your encounter with Eddie.

 It was safe to say the meeting left you a bit perplexed. 

 While you were happy with some of the aspects of your life, you didn’t like the way a stranger like Eddie saw you. For the most part, you had been hopeful that breaking off your friendships with people like Tommy and Carol would have made things different. But he seemed to see you just the same.

 Thankfully, regardless of the unreasonable wariness he had towards you, he agreed to come to the party anyway. Making you and Tina happy later on when you called her. It was really her party, not something you cared to have credit for, but you did want to help out in some way.

 It was nice to have a friend that did normal things. And what was more normal than a high school halloween party?

 Stepping out of the bathroom, you tugged your bathrobe against your body tightly as you quickly dashed down the hall towards your room. A shiver running down your spine made you excited to just jump into your warm pajamas and work on finishing up your nails for tomorrow. 

 Though Tina begged you to match up with her in dressing up as one of the many looks of Madonna, you opted out for dressing up as something a little bit spicier.

 Especially since your dear friends gifted you with a new set of clothes after your birthday had passed, you couldn’t help but pick out some of the dresses they found for you.

 “God, I know she has a treasure trove somewhere.”

 Frowning at the mysterious voice in your room, you quickly push your way inside to find Dustin going through your dresser. Flinging various pieces of clothing behind him as he tried to find something that you sure he probably wasn’t supposed to have. 

 “What the hell are you doing in my room?” you asked, voice booming as you rushed inside to stop him from making an even bigger mess. 

 “I need quarters! It’s an emergency!”

 “Then call the police! Stop going through my stuff, shithead!”

 Slapping him away from the furniture, you try and push him towards the door, holding tightly to your robe. “Look at all this mess. Now I have to clean up everything.” you whined, moving to grab some pieces of fabric that laid by your feet. 

 “Please! I just need a dollar, tops. Anything. I can’t show up empty handed.”

 You gave him the stink eye, urging him to continue his way out as you picked up around the place. “I’m glad to know you’re capable of asking for things considering I just caught you in here attempting to steal from me.” 

 “I’m desperate.” 

 “Should have thought to ask before you came in with your thieving hands.” you frowned, looking down at the boy now. He rolled his eyes, obviously already annoyed with your lack of cooperation before he focused in on your face. Something of a smirk formed on his face suddenly. 

 “You wouldn’t happen to be in such a crabby mood because of that pimple growing on your chin, right?”

 The gasp fell past your lips before you could compose yourself. You raised a hand up to cover your chin from his judging eyes. “Aunt Claudia! Dustin’s being a pervert!” you yelled, needing to get him away from your sight. The younger boy gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at you while his Mother came down the hall.

 “DUSTIN HENDERSON! You give that girl privacy this instant!” Her hand instantly reached over to grab hold of his ear, dragging him out of the threshold while he sputtered out curses. “Sorry, sweetie. He’ll get out of your hair now.” 

 The last thing you see as you close the door is Dustin’s middle finger aimed at you as he’s dragged away. 

You woke up the following morning with a little pep in your step. Tomorrow night was the Halloween party, meaning today would be the day Tina passed out invites. You had suggested she send it off as a word of mouth party, having done it that way back home, but she simply brushed the tip off, wanting to filter the crowd that would be attending.

 Which clearly meant, no losers.

 It didn’t feel good at the time, but you convinced yourself it was at least a way to keep in crowd control. 

 But that didn’t stop you from giving a few people from your other classes her address anyway. The party would not be ruined if a nice kid like Robin Buckley from homeroom got an invite. 

 The morning air was crisp, making you take a big inhale as you rode your bike into the school’s parking lot. Most kids had begun to arrive and you were thankful to be early for once. That gave you more time to try and convince Jonathan in on the festivities the next day.

 You rode past Tina, Vicki and Carol on the way in. The other two gave you a friendly wave while Carol pretended to spot something on the hem of her shirt. Thankfully the fight from before seemed to leave the two of you at an awkward stand off whenever the two friendships seemed to collide. 

 The hill began to slope downward, causing your bike to go a lot faster than you planned. It wasn’t until the sound of a honk came in that you found out you almost collided with the car that had just turned in.

 Embarrassment hit your senses as you nearly fell over on your bike. Thank God you had Jonathan recently fix it up or else you would have ruined the paint job on the burgundy car before you.

 “Whoa, didn’t see you coming there, trouble.” 

 Shit.

 Out of the car window poked out Steve Harrington. Giving you the pleasure of seeing not only his gargantuan head of hair, but beautiful ember brown eyes that looked at you with such worry. 

 It made you sick.

 “I’m not surprised.” you scowled, fixing up your footing on the pedals. “Probably had all that hair on your face.” you shrugged, not really bothering to look him in the eye. “Next time check your mirrors for others and not just for your face.”

 “That’s not what happened.” he sighed, already feeling you cut the conversation short like you always do. You stole a quick glance inside, noticing a very just as worried Nancy Wheeler. “Nevermind, I can see you were distracted by something else.”

 He tried to call out to you, shaking his head quickly, but you simply rode past him. Not really up for the debate.

 This was really how most interactions were with these two nowadays. Despite it being months since your fight with Steve, you still could never shake off the animosity that you had towards him. Even if he did gift you back the jacket you loved months later. 

 The feelings you had towards him were too strong. Too hurt. Never again would let yourself be caught up in the mess that was Steve Harrington. Even if that meant throwing in Nancy along with your avoiding. Really, had she chosen not to get back with him, you could possibly make a friendship with her. But the idea that she’d trust someone again that easily didn’t sit right with you.

 Not to mention the idea of them being cute and cuddly made you want to hurl.

 “It’s about time you showed up. I figured you’d come around late again.” hollered Jonathan as he waited for you at the bike stands. He had shown earlier to make use of the photography class’s dark room and said he’d meet you out front.

 “My Mom does say that while I’m always running late, I’m at least consistent.” you smirked, parking your bike into a slot. The boy extended his hand out for your bike lock, doing you the favor while you adjusted your scrunched up clothes from the ride.

 “I saw you talking to Steve. What happened there?”

 The two of you looked over towards the parking lot, noticing that the two lovebirds were still sitting inside as they looked down at something together. “You mean when I was almost publicly executed?” 

 Jonathan rolled his eyes, brushing his hands off from dirt as he waited for you to join him into the school. “I think that’s the longest interaction you’ve had with him this month.” 

 “It was barely a minute, Jonathan.” 

 “Had your heart racing though.” 

 It was unfair how easily Jonathan had figured out your harbored feelings towards Steve. Something he picked up on from just a photo really. Thankfully he wasn’t one to spread gossip. 

 “I feel you’re only pushing the notion that I like him because you want to have the excuse to keep your crush on Nancy.” you huffed, handing over your bag for him to hold. You quickly carded your fingers through your hair, while walking over towards the front entrance of the school.

 More kids would be coming in closer to the first morning bell, meaning you two should beat the crowds. 

 “You already know what I think of Nancy. I’m just glad to be her friend.”

 He stopped you from walking towards the door, giving you the lecturing face he usually saved for whenever he wanted to give Will a pep talk. Just mentioning her name should have let you know the conversation would lead back to this. 

 “It wouldn’t hurt to try and talk to her again either.”

 “Jonathan, trust me. If I didn’t feel so awkward about it all or hated her boyfriend, then I would.”

 “So ignore, Harrington.” The sound of a loud car rumbling in the distance made the two of you pause, trying to crank your heads in the direction of whoever was causing such noise pollution. For a second you thought you recognized the car but zipped by too fast for you to really notice.

 “I’m just saying I have just as much reason to hate on him but I’m over it.”

 Sighing, you gave him a small glare. “Jonathan..You know why I can’t do that.” It was only a little while ago that you actually told Jonathan everything that happened. It naturally brought back some dislike he held towards Steve again, but he was ready to make peace and move on from that day. Signs of the horrible pacifist that lived inside your friend.

 Thankfully, he seemed to notice how uncomfortable the memory was and instead gave you a smile. Patting your arm awkwardly. “Alright, if it bothers you so much I’ll drop the subject.”

 “Good, because this year is going to be great. No monsters, no shitty friends, and definitely no more boys!”

 “HEY, HENDERSON!”

 The sound of a familiar voice yelling your name from across the lot causes everyone around you to freeze. At first you thought it was in your head. But this time the voice calls out your full name and you’re suddenly struck frozen with fear.

 Jonathan turned around to notice who had done the yelling before he worriedly glanced at you. “Hey, I think that guy’s calling you.” he said softly, poking at your arm. Slowly, you turned on your heel to confirm your worst nightmare.

 Sauntering across the lot was none other than Billy Hargrove. The man that you vowed never to speak with or see again. He was supposed to be back home in California. Miles away from you and your new life. 

 You could even remember asking him to leave you alone the day you left for Indiana. The way he angrily picked up the bouquet of roses you chucked at his head. It was a parting gift and you thought that would be the last time you’d have to ever face him again. 

 What a joke.

 “Babydoll.” he cooed, moving to pull you into his arms. The thick smell of his Aramis cologne flooded your senses and you felt like you were back to being this lonely Freshman that hung on his every word. “I knew I’d recognize that ass anywhere.” he smirked before he gripped the bottom of your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. 

 Before you or anyone else can react to the whole thing, he’s pressed his lips against yours. Almost possessively claiming you in front of everyone. It’s how he always used to greet you in front of your friends. But instead of feeling like a special prize, it made you feel used and dirty.

 It turned even worse when you tried to pull yourself away from him, earning a small pout from the boy as he tightened his hold. “Miss me?” he grinned, showing off his bright smile. Back home it used to make you weak in the knees. Now it reminded you of a killer shark’s grin.

 On top of the close proximity of your ex, all around you the students gawked and murmured to each other. The worst being the worried looks of Steve and Nancy from the parking lot. For once in your damn life you did not want this attention on you.

 “Let me go.” you said growled.

 “Oh, but babydoll, we’re back in the same school again.” His blue eyes wandered over your body, making you feel practically naked with how his gaze was. “I think we deserve a second chance. Don’t ya think?”

 “I think you should get bent.”

 Pushing away from his hold finally, you take a step back. Not giving him the chance to try and pull you in to speak again. Jonathan stepped closer towards you, helping give enough distance between you and Billy. Hooking your arm through his, you drag him away from the scene and into the school. Dashing past everyone that could ask questions.

 “Should we talk about what just happened?”

 “No, we shouldn’t.” 

 Students began to part ways for the two of you as you sped down the hall. Wanting to avoid being under your angry gaze or being hit with your fast steps. Emotions swirled inside you, making your mind go completely frazzled.

 “Are you going to be okay?” Jonathan asked, turning you down the hall to your homeroom. The area was thankfully with less students, giving your racing heart a minute to calm down. But really, you didn’t have an answer for him. Not when too many other questions flooded your mind.

 Why was Billy in Hawkins, Indiana of all places? How did he manage to be here for less than a minute and completely turn your new world upside down? And most importantly, how the hell were you going to get him to leave you alone?

A/N: Bit of a rocky start but I’m so excited to get this story back on! Do we all hate billy or is it just me?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #dywmb

[tenebrius-excellium]

I’m reminded of just how good Trollhunters was but also of how it kinda peaked in the middle of Season 3 and went rapidly downward from then on. Those pure None Shall Live Scenes, just...every time the amulet powered up...Claire’s mystery arc of discovering magic and developing her skill without getting any instruction, unlike Jim who was tutored by both his friends and his enemies and who was able to profit from centuries of knowledge and tradition...like, the way she had to go in completely blind and find out...and the way she did so well considering the circumstances... just the top tier humor, the NotEnrique and Chompsky and Goblin bits, Angor Rot and Strickler as glorious, complex and entertainingly dangerous villains... Draal... Draal... Toby and Barbara both knowing they were not the main characters yet still doing such a great job with their respective roles... and Jim being consistently conflicted about doing what was right and wondering what it meant to be a human warrior serving non-human creatures...

...and then the parents found out.

Idk that’s when it immediately turned sour for me.

Like, Barbara never really took a stance on what the discovery of the reality of trolls meant to her - it sort of remained her son’s “thing”. But what about herself? Was it cool to her? Did it spark her curiosity, her desire to explore and research - regarding new ways of medical treatment, for example? Why’d she never comment about Strickler’s ability to shapeshift...and did she like his horns in the end? Was she ever anything else than afraid and worried for the normalcy she used to know, instead of rejecting or embracing the possibilities and the wonder of the magical world?

Then Merlin appears, and it’s fine in itself that he is the character he is. He’s quirky and iconic and doesn’t have to change. But what happened to “Master Jim was correct! We are stronger together!” (quote Blinky, from when Claire opened the giant portal at the end of Season 2)? Why did Jim continue to walk alone after so many experiences that supposedly taught him the strength of community? Heck, he taught that exact principle to a desperate Nomura who had given up on someone coming for her in the Darklands!!! Yet it’s like he fails to learn the same lesson over and over...he makes the mistake of going into a life-threatening situation by himself, is then helped by his friends, everyone including himself assumes that he will natually choose better next time and then... he keeps repeating the exact same pattern endlessly as if he has amnesia. I understand that it might take a fictional hero a couple times for a certain lesson to sink in, just like it would for a real life person. But Jim never learns (not even in Wizards, not even in Rott). It gets frustrating and boring. Don’t get me wrong, I quite like Troll!Jim now, he grew on me. But it shouldn’t have been Merlin’s influence that drove Jim to become a troll “because there was no other way”, but because Jim decided for himself that this was the best way. He should have rejected Merlin’s initial suggestion, then realized he wanted it himself. Because frankly half his life and over half of his friendships were in the troll world by then, he loved their species and there were obvious advantages to fighting Gunmar as a troll - if only to truly understand their ways. But Jim’s character development kept being dictated by outside parties and therefore, got ground to a stagnating halt. He never learned to think beyond the authority of the people who made the amulet or wore it before him. He stayed dependent on all of the destiny stuff they told him instead of considering that the amulet might have been a tool of its own mind, bound to him, helping him into the freedom of making his own choices. Of course there is the aspect of only one person being able of carrying Daylight. But Jim did not have to follow the preset course that Merlin intended it for. I wish he didn’t. And that’s why, even though I’m happy that he became Troll!Jim, the ending of Season 3 just wasn’t as good as it could have been.

Jim, sweet gullible Jim who was just a little bit too receptive for random people’s guidance because he lacked a father figure, did not learn what I was led to believe was his arc over 3 whole seasons of plot, (to discern which voices to listen to and to gather confidence in his own strength while following a destiny) and since that issue was never finished nor fixed, the creators never gave him a new arc beyond the original problem, and so... that’s why Jim grew ultimately redundant. Slowly in Wizards, at lightning speed in Rott. And that’s how we ended up with a repetitive, nonsensical cycle of plot.

While Jim’s physical action potential grew consistently without his character truly evolving, Douxie on the other hand made it a point to learn how to grow personally fast.

Love him for it. Still wish he had been the main guy in Rott. Perhaps all would have been well. :) My point is, I really miss the earlier days of Trollhunters, because they really were that enjoyable and good!!!!

#trollhunters #trollhunters analysis #analysis #wherethekiteflies #jim lake jr #claire #claire nunez

[wispscribbles]

"No Rest for the Wicked" readers, I am sorry for taking forever. Writing's just taken a backseat, but it's not abandoned. I don't know when chapter 13 will be out, but I've got a good chunk written so far. It's Price's POV and he's going through things. Here's a lil preview under the 'keep reading'

cw for grief and major character death (that's NOT ACTUALLY mcd, but Price doesn't know that.)

---

He had never felt a hollowness like the one that was currently threatening to swallow him whole.

He had lost count so very long ago of how many soldiers had died in his time in the military. Friends, acquaintances. Fresh faces alongside long-time allies. He still remembered the first times it happened clearly, of course he did. No one forgot the first deaths in the field, be it those caused by your own hand, or the ones by the enemy’s. 

With time, a grim acceptance settled in his very bones. With every loss, every death, it all blurred into one. Terrible each time, but… expected. 

But his team was different. This was different. 

“Playing the self blame game, sir?” Soap had mumbled back in that cell, quick and cheeky as ever, despite fever-glazed eyes.

So maybe Price was a hypocrite. He had told Soap not to waste his energy on where he’d gone wrong, yet at this moment, all Price could think of was all the ways he had failed his men. Like father, like-

Grief twisted its blistering blade even deeper in his chest, the pain near physical. His mouth tasted like static.

Having favourites was frowned upon, but it was no secret that there was a special bond between the members of the 141. They were more than colleagues, brought together by facing impossible odds together and coming out on top. 

Gaz, Soap, Ghost… They were Price’s family. 

He had seen the fort go up. He had felt the earth shake beneath his feet with the force of the explosion. 

They weren’t supposed to be here. Yet, they were. For him. To save him, Soap had said.

Fiery and sweet John, always ready with a reassuring smile in even the most horrible times. Even when death clung to him and his eyes were red-rimmed and sporting dark bags, he had always been ready to keep up spirits. Loyal to a fault. Stubborn to it, too. So selflessly brave that it toed the line of reckless stupidity, despite being a smart lad in every other sense.

And strong, steady Simon. The man who was plagued by so many demons, that Price had marvelled at how he even kept standing. Yet, he did. Level-headed, despite all the things that should’ve broken him. Surprisingly soft in the rare glimpses he showed those he trusted. Protective of his team, of the few people he had allowed into his heart.

Something had just clicked with them. Simon steadied Soap just enough that his head left the clouds so that he could view the world below more clearly. John never stopped digging until he could drag Ghost from the earth, wiping the dirt gently from his eyes so that he could see the blue skies above once more.

What a dangerous profession for love like theirs. It went beyond all that fraternisation bullshit, even more so once the war truly ripped normalcy and structure from their grasp. Price’s fear of losing them had grown alongside their increasingly obvious affections. He’d realised that losing one meant losing both.

Then he’d heard Simon Riley laugh, really laugh again. He’d noticed a calm in the otherwise perpetually restless John MacTavish. Price would never have traded that for anything.

When they’d left the task force and the military behind, abandoning the edge on which their lives had so precariously balanced, their captain had felt none of the disappointment he’d expected at losing two of his best soldiers; instead he’d felt the deep rooted worry for them leave his body, knowing they were safe. 

Those two deserved gentle things, despite the way the world had moulded them for violence. Maybe even because of it.

They were gone.

He knew he played right into Solovyov’s plan, only stoking the doctor’s satisfaction, when he yelled and screamed and thrashed. This was all for Price, after all. His hell. 

But he couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop fighting until he ached, didn’t stop shouting until his throat was raw, his voice used up. The anger that had distorted the doctor’s face since he’d found out Ghost had ruined his carefully laid plan smoothed out slowly, replaced by sick glee at Price’s reaction. Straight, white teeth in a face still covered in drying blood, glinted back at the grieving captain. Taunting his predictable emotions.

Price couldn’t bring it in himself to care, as he watched flames lick the rubble of his friends’ grave.

When Solovyov and his men started moving him, Price hadn’t even noticed. Only when the smoke from the wreck disappeared from view, did reality wash over him like an icy shower.

Ghost and Soap were gone. 

The rest of the team were still searching for him. 

Gaz was leading a search party, a rescue for their captain. None seeing the string dangling him like mere bait. Yuri was being tracked, and they were unaware of the danger they were in. The parts they had yet to play in Solovyov’s twisted play for an audience of one.

He had to do anything in his power to prevent that from happening.

#NRFTW tag #fic snippet #ghostsoap #parental John Price

[psychedelic-ink]

bound for carnage (i)

pairing: dave york x plus size fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, angst

word count: 4.4k

summary: Dave lost everything: His divorce has been finalized. He sees his daughters only on the weekends. He has nothing except for the horrific job he keeps on doing just so he can give his children the best life that he can in such conditions.

But then, well, he meets you.

He tells himself it's nothing serious. It's clear that you like him and he flirts a little, some harmless fun. Never once did he think of taking you back to his place, he knows that if you seep through the cracks of his armor he's as good as gone.

But what happens when the little paper he receives has your name written inside of it instead of someone else?

chapter warnings: dave kidnaps reader (reader is blindfolded and tied up for a while) canon typical violence, +18 themes, nothing explicit in this chapter, dave having dark thoughts, POV switch, swearing, dave pressing a gun to readers head (but he doesn't harm reader or anything)

requests open for pedro pascal characters, moon knight & peter parker 💌

main masterlist | playlist | read on ao3 | series masterlist

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Dave doesn’t allow himself many things. 

Where many people with a similar lifestyle as him would indulge, he didn’t. He likes to think that this particular habit he has sets him apart from the rest. It makes his life easier, and makes him better at his job. When he’s having a bad day, Dave doesn’t try to find the solution at the end of a bottle, he doesn’t go to have his favorite meal just to put a smile on his face.  He does none of that. He never had. Not even when his wife left him, and not even when he lost custody of his daughters to only see them on weekends. He endured it all. The only thing that Dave did allow himself was his apology to Carol but that was more for the sake of her rather than his. 

But after a year of loneliness, a year of gazing into the eyes of death over and over again, his armor begins to crack. 

Dave allows himself his favorite meal. He allows himself a drink or two, maybe even the whole bottle if he feels like it. He allows himself to fuck the women that seem interested in him. He decides that he isn’t human anymore. He’s an incarnation of evil and everything rotten in the world. The grim reaper in the flesh. He assumes that this is his punishment for everything he’s done and now, he’s cursed to live an empty life. 

He thought about quitting his job a couple of times. Leaving this world of bloodshed behind in order to get a normal job, something that pays enough to put both her daughters into a decent enough college. Some naive part of him believed that if he did quit, his life would return to normal. He could have his family again. The job he had at the CIA had a decent enough pay.

But, like many things in life, it isn’t that simple. 

Dave needs the money. He needs it to pay child support, which he does happily, his daughters deserve the best but that means he can’t quit. 

So he continues to do what he does best, killing whoever was written on that tiny piece of paper. 

The only thing that brings his life some form of normalcy is when he gets his morning coffee from a coffee house near to his apartment. The coffee is subpar, he’s positive that he can make a better one at home, but the average testing beverage isn’t why he goes there. 

He goes there to see you. 

You’re ridiculously kind to him, having his coffee ready before he even arrives. You talk to him, laugh at his jokes– which, he thought, were a bit too dark to make the first thing in the morning but he enjoys hearing your laughter nonetheless. You just make his day a little bit better with just being in it. When he talks to you he remembers what it's like to be human, he remembers the thrill of conversing with another person that’s unaware of his many many flaws. 

After months of seeing each other every morning, his conversations with you goes from one minute to ten. When there’s no one else behind him, he allows himself to listen to your worries, your dreams, the things you want to accomplish– You’re full of life. It’s a complete contrast from those who beg him for their lives, he enjoys this change in atmosphere.

But after a while Dave notices the change in your attitude. You start to look at him differently, your eyes glassy and dazed. He catches your shy looks while you prepare his coffee, he feels the lingering touches against his skin, he sees the way your chest stutters when he walks through the door. Sometimes you put a chocolate croissant in his tray, saying that it’s on the house, which he takes with a smile of gratitude. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t relish in it. 

In return, Dave teases you constantly. He watches like a hawk as you fluster at his flirtatious jokes, he reels at the way you frown when he talks about his late night endeavors with others. It’s all a game for him. This, he indulges in. Dave’s confident that this harms no one: You get an adrenaline rush when talking to him and he gets a nice ego boost first thing in the morning. It’s an innocent transaction. He never actually gave you any signs that this relationship was anything other than friendly, a mere customer employee relation. 

Dave was always a good liar. It's as easy as breathing, and if he laces enough truth into them, anyone would believe him, even himself. When he stares at his reflection in the morning, beads of water mixed with facewash dripping down the frame of his face, threatening to burn his eyes, he tells himself that this is nothing other than innocent fun, and he believes it. Dave goes there only to have his fill of attention, he never intends on doing anything with you, not even a casual fuck. He thinks that it would be cruel for him to do that. You deserve better. 

He only realizes his lie as night falls, when the only thing brightening up his bedroom is the lights of the city. It’s a horrific truth he discerns when he’s stroking his cock, thoughts of your sweet pussy and plush tighs wrapped around him invade his tortured mind. 

Dave comes with your name falling from his lips. 

The next day he forgets– Or rather he doesn’t think about it. Dave brews his coffee at home that morning and heads for the door, he sighs upon seeing an envelope laying idly on his doormat that says “Go Away” with an annoyed looking cat. He smiles everytime he sees it, reminded of the time his daughter’s gifted to him on father’s day. Dave’s smile wavers, however, when he picks the letter up and closes the door with the push of his heel, heading back to the kitchen he peels it open. Pulling out the piece of paper, his eyes quickly glances over the name. His eyes go wide and his mouth becomes incredibly dry. 

You’re his next victim. 

You don’t remember much. 

You remember it being night, you remember your speedy steps as you tried to arrive at your apartment as soon as possible, but the rest is lost to you. Thickly swallowing around the knot in your throat, you wiggle your arms and legs. The harsh material of the ropes digs into your skin and a silent sob escapes your parched lips. Your vision has also been taken away from you, a blindfold snug around your damp eyes. Usually you’re careful after a late night shift. You don't listen to music and you always have your keys sticking out from between your knuckles. When someone follows you, you could feel the unwanted gazes crawling up your spine and act accordingly, either taking shelter in a gas station or calling up a friend. But this time…this time you felt nothing. You didn’t even see anyone. The mystery only adds to your fear and confusion, you want to go home. 

A door creaks open, the sound makes your heart nearly leap out from your throat. Your palms are sweaty. Fear coates your tongue as the taste of bile. Your head turns towards the source of the noise and hoping that the ropes had loosen up, you tug at them again. Much to your disappointment, they hadn’t. 

Heavy footsteps inch closer and closer, you push back the chair along with yourself. The wood skimmed across the surface of the floor, the sound makes your skin crawl. 

Your journey is short lived, however, when a wall stops you from moving further back. 

The steps come to a halt right in front of you. The man’s warmth overwhelms you, his presence sending jolts of fear even if you can’t see him. He smells like pine and cinnamon. His knees brush against your own as he stoops down, you gasp when his knuckles come in contact with your skin. They skate along the frame of your face, goosebumps rising across your skin as he presses a thumb against your bottom lip. The tenderness confuses you. If this was any other situation you would think that this person cared for you. Adrenaline rushing through your veins, you violently shake your head to remove his hand from your skin. 

“Who are you?” you’re startled by your own question, you look down but see only darkness thanks to the blindfold. “Please let me go,” 

The man doesn’t say a word, instead he stands up, moving away from you. Your cheek feels cold. His silence unnerves you. 

“I have…money,” You don’t. “Just– I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” 

Complete silence. 

You want him– No, you need him to speak. You’re scared, a tremble raking across your body as a tear gets caught by the blindfold, the fabric soaking up the wetness. You’re in a state of loss. Was he going to kill you? Rape you? Who was he? A customer? A random person in the street? You still have so much you want to do. Shit– 

You think about what else to say. His gaze burns into your skin, your heart trembles. Why won’t he react? Pressing your knees together, you think about the people that might take notice of your absence and go to the police. You just moved so you didn’t know a lot of people, your coworkers would only notice that you’re gone in the morning. Your eyes widen underneath the blindfold as another name pops into your mind. 

“Dave…” 

You said it silently. It was barely audible to your own ears. But he hears you. The air lays thick against your shivering skin, something changes in the atmosphere. You can’t quite pinpoint what it is and you’re not sure if you want to find out. 

The eerie silence continues and you rest the back of your head against the wall, breathing heavily. It was human nature to fear the unknown. You want to know what’s going to happen to you, you hope that knowing will calm your nerves but whoever this person is, he didn’t seem like the talkative type. Fear still thrums in your ears and as a response your mind drifts off to things that eases you, one of those things being Dave York. You’ve only known him for a short amount of time and it took you an equally short amount of it to grow attached to him. You realize that you hadn’t seen him this morning. Now you wish that you have, you will probably never see him again. 

“Please let me go,” you beg again. “I won’t tell anyone, really. If you don’t you’ll have to deal with the police, my friends won’t let this go you know, they’ll be looking for me,” 

He scoffs. Actually scoffs. Your blood freezes. This man is toying with you. He had probably watched you for days, he knew you basically had no one which made you a perfect target. A sob makes its way out of your throat, your head falls, defeated. 

“Please,” you repeat. “Please, please, please–” 

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up already–” 

A shallow scream rips from your throat as you feel the blunt tip of a gun pressing against your forehead. You didn’t even hear him move, just how high up in the food chain was he?

He presses the gun further into your skin and tears fill your eyes, your bottom lip trembles. The cold metal stings as it leaves a circular mark. Chest heaving, a whimper follows. He’s going to kill you. You can feel the claws of death curling around your shoulders, it surrounds your very being. 

“Why did it have to be you?” he sneers, sounding almost hurt. “Why, among the seven-fucking-billion people on earth did it have to be you?” 

So this person did know you. 

You part your lips to speak but only a dry, choked out noise follows. You’re too scared. The gun weighs heavy against your damp skin, you’re unbelievably cold. He sounded so angry, but beneath that anger you could hear hurt. Closing your lips, your nostrils flare as the gears in your head begin to turn. This man knows you so this must mean you know him too. He says nothing else, only breathes heavily. His scent floods your nostrils, what was it again? Pine and cinnamon. It’s a scent that you’re familiar with and you follow it. 

Ignoring the threat of death biting into your skin, you imagine an open door and walk through it. The scent guides you to the coffee house, looking up you see that the sun has barely risen. Noticing a hurried movement, your eyes shift back down. You see yourself rushing to open up the shop. You feel as if floating above the concrete as you follow a past image of yourself. Hands placed on the glass, you watch. Soon customers begin to arrive and you see Dave, he talks to you, smiles at you. 

Suddenly you’re behind the cashier register, talking to him, smiling as you think if he likes you back or not. For a moment you forget everything, it’s only you and him. You look up, but as a familiar scent brings you back to your senses your eyes go wide. Everything narrows down. The fear is back. Your head spins but you’re frozen in place. He stares you up and down with a raise of an eyebrow. 

“Are you alright?” 

His voice. Despite lacking the anger, the sweet tremor of it is familiar. Your lips part as you look up to him, the background has faded into a blur, the scent pushes you down into a sense of unspeakable darkness. 

“It’s you,” 

You’re not aware that you’ve actually muttered the words out loud until the gun disappears from your skin. You count two steps and assume that he’s backing away. 

“Dave?” you call out just to be sure, voice weak and clipped. “Is it really you?” 

“It is,” 

“You– You kidnapped me?” 

You sound more surprised than afraid. The air crackles between the two of you. Signs of a storm approaching. You hear him breathe in and out, you imagine him counting to five before speaking. When he does, he talks softly, slowly, as if he’s afraid that you’ll run, even if it’s impossible at this given moment. 

“Yes,” 

“Why?” 

“It’s…complicated,” 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

The silence confirms to you that he is. The fear comes crawling back, it sinks into your skin and circulates your heart, your breath falters. 

“Look,” his voice pulls you back. “I’m going to untie you now, just…stay calm so I can explain. Can you promise me that?” 

You nod, thinking that this is your chance. Again, without making a sound, he approaches you and tugs off the blindfold. He kneels down before you can lay your eyes upon him. He starts to untie the ropes around your ankles. At first your vision is blurry, rapidly blinking, you wait for it to return to normal. Dave moves to your back, you feel his fingers grazing against the exposed skin around your wrists. Your pulse quickens. Before you’re free you quickly examine your surroundings. You expected to be in a dungeon, or a dark basement that you’ve seen multiple times in horror films. Instead, you realize that you’re in his living room. He owns a simple decor, nothing fancy or extra. You take notes of the dark green plastic chair you’re currently sitting on, the vase on top of a coffee table with sharp edges, the red comfortable looking couch. 

The ropes fall to the carpeted part floor and with that, you spring into action. Heart racing in your chest, adrenaline ringing in your ears, you grab the vase and point it to him. He doesn’t seem surprised, only disappointed. 

“I told you to stay calm,” his tone is threateningly low, enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You promised,” 

“I didn’t, I nodded,” 

He takes a step forward and without even thinking you smash the vase against the table. The sound gets absorbed by the carpet, glass shards flying everywhere, leaving you with a decent enough weapon. Your brows pull together when he doesn’t even flinch. Dave only stares, an amused glint shimmering in his eyes. Your stomach rolls, he looks like he’s holding back a chuckle.

“Smart girl,” he hums, stopping in his tracks. He tilts his head. “That’s an oddly fast reaction for someone who doesn’t know what’s going on,” 

You raise the broken vase, the sharp edges directed to his neck. Tears flood your eyes as your chest lurches. There was a reason why you knew you had to move fast, a reason you weren’t inclined to tell a man who’s planning on killing you. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” he says as if reading your mind. “Just put the vase down and we can talk about it. I’m actually trying to help you out,” 

“You’re lying,” you hiss between clenched teeth. “Why should I trust you?” 

“Because you know me,” 

The softness in his voice lulls you in a false sense of security, you take a sharp breath. 

“But I don’t. Not really,” 

“Yes you do,” he replies, raising his hands. “You know that my name is Dave. You know I’ve been through a divorce. You know I have two daughters: Molly and Alice.” A sudden chuckle falls from his lips. Your eyes follow as he takes a step forward. “You know how I like my coffee. You know where I live. You know me–” 

It’s only a split second. You lower your guard, the hand that holds the vase starting to shake. It only lasts a second before you attempt to recover but that second is all that he needs. 

Dave lunges forward, his hand quickly immobilizing yours as he gets behind you. The vase falls, the rest of it shattering. He has you in a chokehold loose enough that it allows you to breathe, but the pressure is still there. You fear that if you make any sudden movements he’ll strangle you right then and there. His chest is flushed against your back, face pressed against the side of yours. Your breathing comes in quick, shallow pants, you feel death lurking at the same place Dave is. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” he repeats. “But the people who hired me want you dead.” 

“Then why didn’t you just refuse the job?” your voice is meak, heart beating fast and short. 

“Because,” his lips move against the side of your chin. “If I hadn’t accepted it someone else would and they– Well needless to say, they would kill you,” 

You shudder. The thought of someone else other than Dave being here with you terrifies you to the core. His lips burn your skin and your stomach rolls with anxiety. Slowly you nod, deciding that you don’t have much of a choice other than to trust him. 

“I’m not going to try anything else,” you whisper. “You can let me go,” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

He laughs, his breath warm and wet against your skin. 

“You said it this time. If you try anything I won’t be as nice,” 

Tight-lipped, you take a deep breath. His voice is like molten caramel, it intoxicates you. Dave doesn’t release you right away, his lips still ghosting over your warm skin. You feel your stomach dipping at the sensation. His grip around your neck suffocates you, but despite all of that you can’t help but feel the excitement of having him so close. His chest is solid behind you, arms strong around your body. Your ears ring. 

Then he let’s go and the world around you, somewhat, returns to normal. 

You stumble forward, barely catching yourself before you fall. When you meet his gaze, Dave gestures towards the couch. You obediently take a seat but he remains standing with his arms crossed against his broad chest. 

“What now?” you ask, hugging yourself. 

This is a nightmare, it has to be. 

Dave knows he can’t complete the assignment when you utter his name. It’s so silent, barely audible, but he hears you anyway. According to you, these are your last moments, and what do you do? 

Call out for him. 

He already had his reservations about what to do with you. His mind became a mess as soon as he saw your name written on the paper with the most fancy cursive he’s ever laid his eyes on. Killing random people was easy. He didn’t know them, therefore, he lacked the emotional capacity to actually care when they cried out for their loved ones, or begged for his mercy.

However, this isn’t the case when it comes to you. It breaks his heart to see you so afraid, but also, a sick thrill strikes it at the same time. He feels elevated, yet, disgusted by what he feels watching you cowering in front of him. 

Dave’s rage comes out of nowhere. He knows that this anger is mostly directed at himself and not you. Sadly, you can’t read minds so you have no idea. To you, he’s a crazy person pressing a gun to your head. 

Ironically enough his role in your story quickly changes from crazy kidnapper to possible hero. 

He winces at the thought. He’s not a hero. Heroes didn’t think about the millions of possible ways to hurt the people that wanted you dead. Only villains did that. 

While you take a seat, his eyes linger at the shards of glass. Quick thinking indeed. This certainly isn’t your first life and death experience. His darkness grows behind him, standing tall as his shadow. The thought of what might’ve happened to you in your past makes this darkness flicker violently like an uncontrollable flame. Vivid images of hurting the people who hurt you flashes before his eyes a second time today. It feeds the fire.

“Well, we don’t have much of an option,” Dave replies nonchalantly. He became an expert in clogging up the holes in his voice so that his emotions wouldn’t show. “Do you have any idea who might want to get you killed?” 

He grits his teeth, skin taut around his cheek bones. Again, anger fills his gut. Inhaling, he forces his face to be as stoic as possible. 

You shake your head, “No…I mean, sure I probably pissed a couple of people off but I don’t think any of them would go to the lengths of hiring a hitman– You are a hitman right?” 

“More of a freelance assassin but sure basically a hitman,” 

Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. Dave sees the way terror comes rushing back with the way your eyes go wide. To calm you, he comes down to his knees, hands hovering right above your kneecaps. He meets your gaze before placing them, hoping that the gesture assures you that he doesn’t have the intention of harming you. With a sigh, Dave begins to draw languid circles with his thumbs. The way you fill your lungs up with air doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I guess this isn’t the time to be technical when it comes to terms. So, you know no one that might want to harm you. That makes my job a bit more difficult but we’ll find a way around it,” 

“I thought your job was to kill me?” 

The air between the two chills. He perceives it ghosting across his skin, the distrust you feel towards him envelopes his very being and forces him to move his hands away. However, he remains kneeling, his gaze searching yours for any hints that might indicate that you’re lying. Dave doesn’t find any but he’s positive you’re not being completely honest with him. 

“Right now my job is to protect you,” he answers, voice low as he gets up. 

“Why?” 

Dave looks down at you with a raise of an eyebrow. The tone you use for him constantly shifts between sudden bursts of bravado and brokenness. He examines your form, plush thighs pressed against one another as you look down, your breasts rising up which every long breath you take. A rush of arousal spikes from the depths of his stomach. Swallowing, he forcefully pushes the tainted thoughts back. 

“Because you’re nice and you make a decent enough cup of coffee,” 

His heart skips a beat when the living room lights up with your bittersweet laughter. For a moment, he thought he would never be able to hear that sound again. A smile tugs at his lips. Dave’s joy is short lived, however, when your laughter dies down and the chill returns. He really should crank up the metaphorical heat. 

“So what do we do now? Just wait for your employer to ask about me?” 

“That’s not quite how it works sweetheart,” he grins when your eyes widen at the nickname. “Usually I send them proof. I’ve never actually had a job gone bad so I’m not sure what happens after. I assume they send in another assassin to finish off you and the first person they hired– These people don’t exactly brief us on how all of this works.” 

“You’re a target now too then, because of me,” 

“Don’t worry yourself, this is my doing. Though, we should probably change locations. I have a safehouse up in the mountains. It’s pretty remote, especially designed for a scenario like this, so we’ll be safe there for a while. It’ll give us time to figure out who hired me. We’ll head out–” he eyes the clock on the wall. It’s 12 AM. “–Around seven. And hey, maybe something will jog your memory on the way? Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

He keeps his tone deliberately light hearted, it’s his way of telling you that he knows that you’re keeping something from him. That he knows you don’t trust him. You must’ve picked up on the message because he notices the slight hollow in your left cheek, you’re probably gnawing it raw on the inside. 

“Alright,” you reply, not being able to hide the tremble in your voice.

“Seven it is.” 

A/N: to be notified of future work follow @psychedeliclibrary and turn on notifications✨

#dave york fic #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york #dave york angst #bound for carnage #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal character #dave york x female reader #dave york x fem!reader #dave york x y/n

[mylarena]

i think that jaskier is so essential to ciri's development as both a character and as a kid.

none of the witchers know how to be a kid. none of the sorceresses know how to be a kid. none of them had the chance. they were faced with the horrors of the world so early.

but jaskier wasnt. jaskier was a regular human kid raised in a noble family. sure, he doesnt have a 'regular' childhood, but i dont think there is a 'regular' in the witcher.

but jaskier got the chance to be a kid. he got the chance to run around and cause mischief on purpose. he got to go to oxenfurt and live his life as a college student. he got to play and laugh and do stupid shit. he got the freedom that none of the others had.

he can talk to ciri like shes just another friend. he can see things from her point of view- a noble child who just wants to fuck around instead of have the weight of the world on her shoulders. he can give her a sense of normalcy that none of the others can.

obviously, with his education and experience as a teacher, he can also give her the essential knowledge she needs as a future leader. i bet my entire left foot that the witchers know fuck all about grammar. they just speak the language, what the fuck is a haiku? prose? sounds like rich bitch shit. anyways, lets go sword fight.

jaskier knows the ins and outs of the courts. he knows court etiquette. he knows how to do a proper bow and how to speak to royalty and how to be diplomatic. yennefer likely knows this as well, being trained to be a court mage, but not to the same degree jaskier knows it. jaskier was raised to speak this language as a viscount. as a leader of an estate.

and then, living through history is different than learning it. the others may be centuries old and have seen history pass, but they cant be everywhere at once. they cant see everything. they have bias, whether they like it or not.

and elder!! jaskier canonically knows elder (despite being rusty at the beginning of the series; i do believe that after traveling the path with geralt he would pick it back up, since itd be very useful when encountering others on the path.) and i feel like hed have a much better grasp on the rules of grammar and structure and how to hold a regular conversation, compared to the others focuses on magical and professional shit.

he knows the things that a noble needs to know. he knows how courts work, how to talk to othe nobles and other people.

but back to my point of her being a kid.

the witchers were raised on brutality and danger. the sorceresses were raised on strict rules and perfectionism. jaskier was raised as a noble, but as a noble child. he was able to annoy his maids and servants, he was able to sneak around an estate and have fun. he was allowed to go to oxenfurt, he was allowed to get drunk and skip class and run around with his friends and live his life as an equal to his peers instead of a noble to people of a lesser status.

he can give ciri the humanity that the others didnt get as children.

#jasktag #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher #sorry this is messy but i needed to rant abt him #am on mobile so i cant edit it to be neat so his is what you get #myposting

[sinisterexaggerator]

The Existential Crisis of an Elder Duros; or, "Had too much to drink."

Notes: Mind-blowingly amazing art by @deepbluespace4, which her original post can be found here and I am SO, SO honored she was inspired to draw this based on this drabble I wrote and I am forever in awe and grateful.

I normally write smut, so this is very different. Was feeling sad one day, so this came out. Stream of consciousness/character study bullshit from the PoV of Cad Bane. Though, as I said earlier, "don't know if this would be something that would ever happen to him. He seems pretty solid in his outlook and way of life," so it might be somewhat out of character? Didn't edit too much. Oh well. Enjoy ( or not ).

Warnings: None except there are many negative thoughts and feelings involved.

Word count: 2.1k +

-----

World-weary. No. Galaxy-weary. That’s a word you might put to it. The overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of just being over it. Over everyone’s kark and banthashit. Over the mediocre day to day; the politics spanning distant star systems; the heat of a too bright sun. Even the smell of blaster scoring. Blood, death, decay, Tibanna. Chasing money and chasing tail. Women and men all wanting a taste of infamy.

Everyone was always out for themselves, and so was he, but perhaps it was that very thing that made him this way. The lack of trust in another person, the emptiness residing in this all too big universe. That hole that was never filled. A black one that devoured any and every positive emotion he ever had; sucked into the void to never see the light of day.

It was anathema. All of it. Sand in his boots, dry scales, cracked lips, scarred skin; who was he but an accumulation of every terrible thing he had ever done, or every horrible thing that had ever happened to him? Bitterness, hate, envy, jealousy. A feeling of being too good, or not good enough. Whose dreams were these? Were they his? Did he have any dreams?  He had forgotten what those were; what those felt like.

Sleepless days and nights, or maybe sleepless nights and days. They all ran together, couldn’t tell one womp rat’s tail end from another’s. One job after another, one face after another – all the same, didn’t matter the species, all the same except …

Red eyes strained and sore, muscles tired, limbs aching, stomach empty, heart … hurting? What was life, and what was death? How many times had he escaped the outstretched hand of the devil to still wind up in hell? How many more times would he look down the barrel of a blaster to come out on the other side unscathed? Who could say they were better than Cad Bane?

Loneliness, regret, anger, contempt. Friendless. Drifting, aimless. Credits are credits. They bought… things. Things that wouldn’t matter in the end, but that’s all he had.

It was a good life; a rotten life. Left rich in the eyes of man but destitute during this … dark night of the soul. Did he have one? Was there a Maker? Was he going to burn?

No peace and quiet even in the emptiness of space, thoughts forever racing, a testament to his calculating mind. A blessing, or a curse? Both? An irritation?

Who or what could quiet this raging inferno inside him? This resentment, this rancor, yet also this … apathy. To care about everything all at once while at the same time not caring about anything at all.

Was he crazy? He had to be. In his line of work everybody was a little off their rocker. Maybe that’s how he had survived this long - if you could call it surviving. Living on the cusp of normalcy while at the same time failing to be normal. Turning every head in the room while at the same time shutting everyone out.

Cold, conniving, scheming… vacant. His stare, and his entire self. What meaning did anything have that wasn’t stripped away within minutes, hours, days?

He had tried. He had tried to really give a shit. It wasn’t in his cards. Or was it? Was he afraid? Too… proud to open up? Ever since …

Oh, and the agony. A droid could only do so much, but perhaps it was enough. Companionship was never what he wanted it to be.

Paranoia, delusion, anxiety, dread, cynicism, suspiciousness. These never amounted to anything other than his own dark truth. The truth he was alone and always would be. The only thing he had to cling to were adjectives, negativity, deep-seated vitriol; vehemence. A feeling of being wronged. A feeling of being right. A feeling of restlessness, agitation, neuroticism … His bark was worse than his bite despite him having sharp as kark teeth.

To be like everyone else, to be able to breathe, to be able to see clearly when his vision was so precise. He hated that nothing made sense, yet everything seemed so simple.

Eat, shit, piss, sleep, die. How could one go on? How could one know the answer if they didn’t even know the question? What perverted, sick son of a bitch put him here in the first place?

He had never asked to be hatched. He had never asked for this life, this path, this finite space between birth and whatever the hell came next. Nothing? Something? Purgatory? Damnation? Salvation? Heaven… ? A rotting corpse below a tombstone with his title on it? “Here lies …”

Who would be kind enough to bury him?

Concepts, ideas, man-made dribble, infuriating nonsense. Won’t buy in. Won’t succumb to the need for something else. Something bigger. Something unobtainable or out of reach. The Force, maybe? The thing that held men’s minds together and the galaxy at large? The thing that destined him to be what he was, is, and forever will be?

A Duros. No. More than that. But what? If he hadn’t made a name for himself he would be nameless.

The way he saw it time was money, and without money he wouldn’t give his time, but now he had more money than he had time. All the money in the universe couldn’t buy more time, and he was getting old. He was old. And there was nothing he could do about it.

The hat. It was a defensive measure, a defense mechanism in more ways than one. If eyes were viewports to the soul, then what better way to hide the fact that his was empty than beneath the wide brim of an almost too self-indulgent accessory?

Maybe he was scared. Scared everyone would see straight through him – through those soulless eyes that were as red as the blood he often spilt, though looks could often be deceiving.

Who’s to say he didn’t have more lurking than the average man up there in that big head of his? Under that big hat of his? Who knew better than himself all his ins and outs, his weaknesses? The unmentionables, the banes of his existence, the things that could buy him a one-way ticket to the afterlife.

But not only that – philosophical ponderings, longings, astronavigational coordinates, conversations long since passed, every face he had ever laid those soulless eyes on. It wasn’t his fault he had turned out the way he had. He had never been asked to be ripped from null and placed in this gangly body - this body that suffered, hurt, endured because it had to.

What was the alternative? What had he ever known besides pain in his seventy some odd years walking around, talking, saying empty words, vicious threats, snarky insults, and not hardly a kind thing to anyone? A bit of sage advice maybe, a story that made himself look good, an order or a command, but not a single notion that might brighten someone’s day.

It wasn’t his fault. He was blameless, wasn’t he? Life at every level was a competition and free will was supposedly forfeit. Plants competed for the best spot in the shade or sun, insects competed for the best nectar or scraps of food, birds and reptiles, which he could relate to at a genetic level competed for the tastiest insects, the best materials with which to make their nests. Animals competed for the flesh of other animals. Sentients competed for land, water, shelter, credits, mates, knowledge, power – the list went on, and on, and on...

How was he in the wrong? Had he ever been?  It was a game, and he had decided long ago that he would win. One wrong move on the Dejarik board meant hell or high water, jail or freedom, the end … but never any new beginnings. Not for him.

Maybe that was what he was missing. That desire to sail off into the sunset growing ever more powerful. This idea he had to never to look back. Retirement. But wasn’t that a form of death in and of itself? Bidding his time, waiting around for the inevitable, admiring the flowers maybe, watching a cool mountain stream drift by, or the birth of a star, the slow rusting of his droid… That was a thought. Who would upkeep Todo when he was gone?

He supposes nobody. He had been so loyal. And who cared if he divulged his secrets or told tall tales of Cad Bane once he was rotting away in a gutter somewhere? He only hoped if the droid outlived him, which he would, that he might have a decent word or two to say. Chances are he’d put his own spin on things, but he had never known him to be a backstabber.

And then there was the issue of his pride … his all too big ego. He was well aware of it, but it was also easily justifiable. He was the best. Always had been. There was only one other man out there who might come close, and that thought ate at him, day in and day out, though he let it lie.

Perhaps that was how he’d go. It would be poetic. The mentee killing the master, who was in turn the mentee of the man whose DNA covered entire solar systems, galaxies, spanning time and space and parsecs and the memories of people he had never met …

People that had never met Jango. That man occupied his thoughts more times than he was willing to admit. No one needed to know, and they never would. No one needed to know that he had …

One might think he was beyond emotions. Callous, cruel and unusual, but he could truly, keenly feel things if he allowed himself to. Cad Bane could cry.

Oh, but he was good at pushing others away. Far away. To truly know someone, to care for someone, was weakness through and through. You let them in, and then they die on you, or they betray you for a bounty, or they leave you high and dry expecting them to return to only go out and meet their untimely end at the edge of a blaster or the blade of a lightsaber, though not so much anymore …

The time for that was gone. And maybe his time would soon be over too. What was the point of even contemplating, questioning, second-guessing himself now? It was too late for all of that. He was no longer a Duros in his prime. He had nothing to look forward to. Nothing except silence, darkness, the long sleep that maybe couldn’t come quite quick enough.

If he was smart he would search it out, though he didn’t exactly have a death wish. Everything was just becoming somewhat overwhelming. The galaxy was changing, he realized that evil would also run rampant in these parts, and he was part of the problem, not the solution, but even a certain degree of enlightenment couldn’t help him, couldn’t change him, couldn’t teach an old hound new tricks, as it were.

He missed his rivals, the real ones, the people that gave meaning to his profession. Spice users, petty crooks and criminals – they were just a way to make ends meet. The thrill was gone, the rush of the hunt. It was all too easy. It was… sad.

And maybe that’s what he was – sad. Perhaps loathe to admit it, but it wouldn’t change a thing.

But what’s the point of changing things, anyway? If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. But what if it’s so broken it’s beyond repair? Maybe that was the real issue here.

He’d have to live with it. And he wouldn’t bother to feel regret. Regret, in this instance, was the mind killer. Remorse was something he had never felt, and he wouldn’t start to feel it now.  

All in all, he had made it out. He had lived. He had found a way to make things happen. It was a dog-eat-dog galaxy out there, and to get out of the Descent Ghetto at all had been some kind of miracle. To survive to adulthood had been some kind of miracle. To live to old age had been some kind of miracle.

And so he sits. He basks in the fading light of the sun. He drinks his whiskey. He forgets his problems. What problems? There weren’t any problems that credits couldn’t solve as far as he was concerned. But that doesn’t keep him from sighing. He lets loose his frustrations to the clouds in a single exhale. He clinks the ice in his now empty glass but will stay here long enough to watch it melt.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” as the saying goes. He felt that one in his bones.

#Cad Bane #Fanfiction #Duros #Star Wars #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #Book of Boba Fett #existentialism #character study #My writing

[ghcstlimbs]

my name is [ JUDE TILLMAN ] … and i am from [ HELLTOWN ] and i’m a [ MANAGER AT BELIEVE IT OR ROT ]. i lived in helltown for [ 27 YEARS ] because [ I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT ]. i am [ 27 ] my pronouns are [ HE/HIM ] and i am [ CURIOUS, EMPATHETIC, ASTUTE ] though some may say i’m [ BYRONIC, UNRELIABLE , OBSESSIVE]. i also hear i look a lot like [ HARRIS DICKINSON ] but, i don’t know if i see it. i’m here because [ I HAVE TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT THE BASEMENT ] but, maybe there’s more to it than that. you never know with helltown.

BASICS full name:  jude mitchell tillman age:  twenty seven date of birth:  november 6th, 1998 place of birth:  helltown, ohio gender identity:  cis man pronouns:  he/him  sexual orientation:  bisexual zodiac sign: gemini PHYSIOLOGY height in feet:  six foot two eye color:  blue  hair color:  brunette notable marks: covered in a smattering of tattoos from the shoulders down FAMILY father:  joshua tillman, deceased.  mother:  florence tillman sibling(s):  tbd ! relationship status:  single children:  none  BACKGROUND education: highschool diploma and BA living arrangements: a solo apartment language(s):  english, mostly forgotten french PERSONALITY positive traits:  bright, dedicated, deeply empathetic, curious negative traits: secretive, obsessive, byronic, often unreliable

Jude wishes he knew why he can't leave Helltown, despite all his best laid plans; he was going to live in Paris, London, Florence -- he'd sit where the greats had written their finest works, enshrined in history and sunlight, and make something that would set the world on fire. And yet he lingers. He only went as far as Chicago for college, and promptly came back home -- the death of his father was the catalyst, but he's made no attempts to leave. And now he can't. 

His childhood in Helltown is akin to that of most of his peers; normalcy, living in tandem with an air of the sinister and macabre. Knowing something isn't right, but feeling it is as common place as PTA meetings or football games -- Jude loves his home, and fears it. His family is loving, so wrapped up in the town they can't imagine leaving either. As the eldest, Jude aspired to take care of his family -- to get a job that would lift them to a higher status, to buy his siblings a house each. Instead, Jude works at Believe it or Rot; it is perhaps sadder, that he loves his job. He loves scaring tourists with tricks and long-winding tales of horrors (some may be true); he's a manger, a title that's slightly elevated about mediocre minimum wage employee. He covers himself in tattoos, visits his mom weekly, smokes more than is healthy, and maintains a life befitting an aimless man in his twenty -- but he too, uses a blanket of normalcy to cover his unorthodox hobbies. 

He's a thoughtful person, slightly quiet when in thought but incredibly friendly; Jude worships books, and still aspires to be a writer; Helltown may be the main character of his first book. When he's not up until three snooping, you'll probably find him out at a bar or catching another movie at the drive in - he's a regular. 

But his life, his obsession, lays in unraveling this town; Jude cannot stop looking for the source of rot that has started to blacken the soul of Helltown. He pours over the archives, posts endless accounts of his findings online, sneaks into buildings at night -- if the town is a malevolent spirit, it has found a willing host in Jude. He's latched onto the burning of St. Michael's, focusing his frenzied devotion and sleuthing onto this singular event - Jude's convinced this will lead him to whatever dark forces are at play. A skeptic at heart, he isn't one to believe in ghosts; but the aura of Helltown is clear. Things that have died, do not stay dead. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

1. Siblings! : Ideally I picture Jude as having several young sisters, but I'm incredibly flexible! I'd love to have his siblings in play - Jude is a devoted sibling, and in lieu of their father's passing, he attempts to fill that void. The Tillman's have been in Helltown as far as anyway can recall, but his siblings could have left (or run away at eighteen) only to come back now. But his double life as a detective has begun to take its toll -- and in tandem to whatever his siblings are up to, could leave to strife or conflict. I'm open to adopted siblings also <3 

2. Childhood friends/peers: fellow locals around Jude's age that he grew up with. Jude's friendly, though slightly serious and during school was likely buried in some book. I'd love friends that are only coming back home, while he's been here for years since college; friends he's stayed close with regardless of location, or friends he hasn't spoken too in a long time -- but strange happenings have brought them back into his orbit.

3. Fellow sleuths : Jude is not a professional by any means sksk he's just snooping and coming up with theories on his own time. He could be working with others (if your muse is also interested in figuring out what's going on) or they run into each other trying to break into a graveyard, and start to team up. If they're new to town, he'd be someone to go to for lore or the town's sordid history. 

4. Antagonistc relationships : Anyone who has gotten wise to the fact Jude has become nosey, and it rubs them the wrong way - maybe they're mixed up in things, or they think someone digging into stuff will only cause trouble. Also childhood nemeses, general vibes don't mix, etc etc!!! 

5. I'm entirely open to anything !!! Teenage exes, co-workers, the bartender that always serves him, neighbors, even cousins, etc :) 

[ilikebigants]

Could u elaborate more on ur hc about the Witcher schools and the abuse from the mentors?? Do u think some schools are more tolerant/turn a blind eye to that sort of thing, and some are more strict abt it? Bcuz some of the schools just seem more..uptight, while others are kind of falling apart at the seams

Alright, I wanna start by saying that this hc is about the general world of The Witcher. Not a specific book or adaptation. My entire point is that these types of institutions have a history of abuse. And again, this is about the heights of the witcher schools, NOT what they are now.

Personally, I think that the stricter the "discipline" the school had, the more leniency for this behaviour would endure in different facets. Why? Because it would breed an environment where the students had no one to talk to about this other than fellow victims. Also, the less care was given to the deceased, the more likely that someone would take advantage of the half dead kids in their pocession.

Personally, I think the wolves were a bit stricter in some areas but extremely lax in others. Like, they'd be stricter when the kids were new meat, but would turn a blind eye if something happened, say, in the room where the mutations happened. And it wouldn't be that they don't care at all, its that what some bastard does to a dead body after that point is the least of their problems. In a similar vain, what happens after the point of a successful mutation is also treated with a bit more leniency because "the boy can fight back if he don't want it," completely ignoring the authority older witchers would have over the younger ones.

Plus, there's the whole thing with "No fighting fellow Witchers" that they don't have as a rule, but more of an etiquette thing, so that too would probably contribute to how willing a victim would be to advocating for themselves.

Do I think that most of them were bastards? No. Do I think that most of them learned to keep silent due to fear of pushback from their only family? Definitely. Like, I don't believe Vesemir ever did do anything like that, but I do think that to some capacity, he was aware. Maybe not to who specifically it was happening to, but he would hear a rumour or two he didn't dare look into.

The only school that I'd say would be relatively clean of that stuff DUE to discipline is the Griffin's. They have this whole thing about chivalry going on, that maybe not everyone subscribed to as a principle, but they didn't dare try much because they knew how easily the whole keep could turn on them.

Viper school is an easy choice for most leniency given to this stuff. They made you kill your puppy if you wanted your medallion if I remember correctly, so what I'm saying is that they'd have a live and let live approach to this sort of abuse. Tough it out. Though I'm not sure if it'd be societally acceptable to kill your fellow Witcher over that, our only real glimpse into the schools being Letho, and he's certainly not a beacon of normalcy, even among his school, so I don't know.

The bears are a tough school to say, mostly due to the lack of knowledge we have on how they did things, but I'll say they'd be close to the Wolves in most regards. But honestly? No idea.

The cats would be an interesting conversation to be had because you can look at it from a lot of different perspectives. You could say they're less structured, so more likely to not care about breaking moral rules, but I raise you that theyd be opposites from the Wolf school: before the mutations, its not acceptable, but they'd be more likely to face no consequences. The chances given to them to do so are slim to none, too, after the Caravan. After the mutations, though? It doesn't matter if it's Stygga or not. You're dead. Unlike the wolves, they'd have no respect/obedience for the older Witchers. Maybe some would, but the vast majority wouldn't. The more free-form style of the Cats is more likely to produce characters that refuse authority and would rather kill at the smallest provocation. So really, if you were a Cat that wanted to do that shit, tough chance you won't have to fight to the death with another witcher once they're old enough to try. I'm pretty sure that most things considered, its not that they are disciplined or have some hard set rules, it's that it's SO lenient that there's nothing stopping your victim from murdering you the second they get mutated.

[swynlake-rp]

"Ok geniuses, let’s feed those hungry brains. Dinner is on me!”

FULL NAME: Cass Hamada BASED ON: Aunt Cass (Big Hero 6) FACE CLAIM: Sutton Foster PRONOUNS: She/Her BIRTHDAY: October 5, 1982 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information || cw: death ||

Cassandra Day always felt a little bit behind. Several years younger than her incredible older sister, Cass spent her childhood trying to catch up to someone who had already done it first and better. Whereas Rosalind had graduated from college by 18, Cass dropped out part of the way through. The only place she was successful was in the kitchens, first as a part time job in a local diner and then later as her full time profession.

Their differences never changed how close the two sisters were. Cass adored her older sister and would have done anything for her. When Rose got married, Cass was the one who made their cake. She couldn’t have been happier.

She was 24 years old when her entire world turned upside down, inside out, and every other direction she could think of. At 24, she lost her beloved older sister and her brother in law who had become a good friend. At 24, her shattered nephews came to live with her. Suddenly, instead of being a young, up and coming chef finding herself, she had to be a responsible single mother.

But she was determined to do her best. Taking the life insurance money, she quit her job and invested in a small cafe with an apartment over it with enough space for the boys. It meant she could run up and down stairs between her different responsibilities, building up a customer base while building up a home that Tadashi and Hiro could count on and trying to build something like normalcy. A space where they could laugh again.

It wasn’t long before she realized that both of them had inherited their parents’ brains. It wasn’t long before Tadashi outstripped any attempt at homework help she could give, and Hiro wasn’t too far behind him. She couldn’t have been more proud, even knowing it meant they were going to leave her behind.

For awhile, it seemed like they were reaching higher and higher, on a path to change the world while she poured coffee and baked bread. Until tragedy struck again.

This time, it was Tadashi who left her behind, sacrificing himself to rescue Hiro and others from the devastating explosion.

Then Hiro nearly broke her heart when he told her that as soon as he was well enough, he needed to leave. He wouldn’t fully explain why, just that he wasn’t safe and he needed to go. At first, he tried to tell her he was sorry and would stay in touch, but she refused to listen. Hiro was all she had left. She wasn’t going to be left behind again, not while he needed her.

She sold the Lucky Cat Cafe, explaining to the loyal customers that she didn’t feel comfortable staying after her losses. Then, when he told her it was time, she disappeared with him. It took them some time, but they arrived in Swynlake, settled down, and she started to do her best to bring together some kind of normal life.

Cass knew it wasn’t going to be anything special. But it was enough. And who knew? Maybe she could get her nephew to smile again.

✓ Hard-working, caring, excitable

✖ Oblivious, disorganized, impulsive

Character Suggestions

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Magical Abilities

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#big hero six #takenfemalech #allch #nonmagicch #bighero6ch #femalech #takench

[tiptapricot]

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#gunshot audio cut. hugging in the duat. looking through memories. pointing to the temple. it wasn’t your fault. ‘steven!’ ‘marc!’ ‘turn the

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Thinkin about Steven fronting after Marc's been out on a mission, and their body is just aching and their knuckles are scraped up and Marc's still kind of there but really tired, and Steven's not sure what happened, but he kisses their hands gently, and goes to the sink to clean up the injuries, and thanks Marc for getting them home safe... "You did good, love."

551 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#4

Ahem. I present to you all, the best mock up of Steven’s apartment I was able to glean from obsessive screenshots and combs of episodes 1 and 2. It is not exactly to scale bc I was just trying to get stuff down, and if there is a “?” next to something that’s because I couldn’t find a point to see it clearly enough to know it’s placement/what exactly it was, but I think this is pretty good all things considered.

This obvs doesn’t include all the scattered books and shelf knick knacks, or a few things that aren’t 2D, such as Marc’s stashing nook to the right and above Gus’s tank in the kitchen, or the storage loft above Steven’s bed which the wooden supports hold up and the ladder to the left of his bed reaches.

A few fun scene placement moments below cut! (Sorry for weird video format!)

Steven grabs the masking tape from the “tape table?”-ish area when he puts up tape, and regularly tosses the tape into the “tape bin” near Gus’s tank every following morning (the roll is also seen placed somewhere else later but a few things move around and these were the solid points I saw)

See the full post

861 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#3

This one is so long I’m sorry HDHDHHDB

Thinking about how important Steven has always been to Marc... Cause even before they actually talked to each other Marc did everything he could to try and maintain Steven's sense of normalcy while still completing Khonshu's missions. He always brought them back home and made sure to redo Steven's tape and locks and sand and restraints so that he could feel normal and keep living his life.

He likely went to work for him a few times, or dealt with things at the museum when he fronted by accident (Jake probably did too but neither of them are aware of it). He got Steven a new Gus when the original died while he had to take the unavoidable trip out to the alps for a few days (they couldn't let Harrow get the scarab and it seems like that was when they planned to stop him), and the entire time they were there he was fighting to be the one in front so Steven could stay stay safe and not have to see as much as he did.

It wasn't perfect, none of it was. Steven was struggling and confused and Marc fucked up a lot, but even when they got home and it was unavoidable that Steven would find out he missed two days, Marc still went through the motions in one last effort to keep Steven in a world that was his.

He tells Steven to stop looking because even though things are slipping he still wants to give him that out, that ability to go back into normalcy if he wants to (Marc is begging him to because he doesn't want him part of his world, he was never meant to be), and even after that wall breaks down between them he's always there to save them, and he tells Steven it every time because it's what he's used to, it's what he's always done. He always protects Steven and Steven is always ok.

But now Steven's seen too much and knows too much and he starts lashing out and getting in the way of missions because he's scared and trying so so hard, but he doesn't fully understand his and Marc's situation, and it throws off the balance of everything Marc worked so hard to create for them.

Steven doesn't appreciate that Marc's always tried to keep them safe, to keep Steven away from all of this, he just sees the negatives, and it hammers home all the bad things Marc tries to avoid thinking about himself. After all, what was the point of any of it if Steven just sees him as the villain? And he doesn't even get to process all that that because they're still racing against the clock to stop Harrow, and even though Marc is pissed and falling apart at the seams he still has to make keeping Layla and Steven safe a priority. Even when he's mad, that's still his goal and his job. He buckles down, gets serious, and keeps going.

But the trial and the relationship between Layla and Steven further exacerbate things, because Harrow's words are discombobulating, and the two people he cares about most were never supposed to meet and were never supposed to be in this much danger. These worlds were never supposed to mix, and everything Marc worked for, everything he tried to keep separate and compartmentalized for everyone's good is in chaos, but he can't stop trying.

And then Harrow shoots them, and for the first time in so so long Marc wakes up and Steven isn't there. He calls out to him in the mirror and he isn't there. That's not supposed to happen. He never wanted that. Steven is always supposed to be there, always supposed to be ok, always supposed to be a tether to draw Marc back and keep him focused, to keep him from going off course or going too hard. And so when he's gone, it just snaps everything back into perspective again. Even if he's pissed at him, he needs Steven to be there, to be ok, because otherwise he's failed.

And then they're reunited, and Marc holds on so so tight, and Steven holds him right back, and neither of them want to let go. So Marc doesn't, he goes right back to keeping Steven safe. He goes out into the hall first, has Steven trail behind, tells him to follow him, and it's right back into their normal, because Marc cares and has always cared. So so much.

898 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#2

Think…. Thinking about how Marc’s last action when he thought he was going to “die” was to press his literal heart into Steven’s hand, like he was ready to be frozen there forever with him and he needed to have him holding that and tHATS WHAT SAVED THEM, THE ACT OF CARING AND CONNECTING AND LOVING SAVED THEM AND I—

968 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A companion piece to this 💖

(ID in ALT)

70,623 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#added an id to the gif #the fact that sm is just MK #AND THAT I REBLOGGED FROM MYSELF TOO MUCH PLAJEHDHBDBDB #the fruit is talking again