#which he is. he is SO average. SO normal. nothing deranged about this man at all.

[suzena]

Like making angels out of crows

#akechi goro #goro akechi #persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #suzenart #this is very rough but it was about the idea more than the execution anyway #sometimes you are hit with Imagery and Metaphors and you have to let the creative soul take over #its good to practice not taking 30 hours per drawing anyway. maybe then i could share more lmao #honestly my biggest issue with this one is that it “looks like i made it” but i think ill just need to make peace with that rip #caption is from the song that inspired this: average working man by panicland #which he is. he is SO average. SO normal. nothing deranged about this man at all. #at the risk of rambling in the tags. have a final little fun fact: #the pose is referenced from metatron (the persona) (though i wouldnt have recognized that myself looking at this.) (but it IS.)

[cheesus-doodles]

Hi hi I wanted to request some kakucho. Poor kaku he’s so sweet but also secretly deranged. Imagine like petting his hair and then turning around and suddenly this man is dagger glaring at everyone like mine! People telling you he’s scary and you’re like kaku? No I think you’re mistaken..like you could do anything to him like put bows in his hair and he’s like :D but the moment you leave he’s like :l

awww yes I support this! Kaku needs love on this blog as well imo, hashed out an entire BFF Kakucho here by accident so hope you enjoy anon!

also mini update, going home will be out next week! cross my heart

Masterlist

‎‎‎

I would say to me Kakucho comes off as someone who needs to be given a reason in order to function in life. In canon, this purpose would be given to him by Izana, which would be to serve him as a king, but when Izana leaves the orphanage to go with Shinichiro and then to run the Black Dragons, Kakucho is once more left without a purpose.

It wouldn't seem like a big deal at first, but slowly as the months drag on, this boy would find himself simply drifting through life, pretty much detached from the ongoings around him - there's nothing for him to really focus on besides physical training now that Izana was busy without him, and Kakucho himself doesn't have any particular goals that he is chasing except to server Izana. Of course, this all changes when he meets you.

You are no doubt a very headstrong person, someone who has no qualms doing whatever you like whenever you like, and would not back down on things that you believe in. And you also treated this boy to a lunch after he helped you beat up a bunch of bullies even though you didn't need the help, because you appreciated it anyway. Kakucho isn't a very trusting person to begin with because of his difficult childhood, but you definitely managed to sway his first opinion of you with that simple act of asking for nothing more.

Very selective with how much information he shares about himself, and you were the same, though you did manage to dig out that Kakucho didn't really have anyone else to spend time with, and so you invited him to hang out with you if he was up for it, saying that he was welcome to join your friend group for study sessions. On the other side of being so stubborn, what Kakucho saw was that you were also just an average student with an average number of friends, and leading a very normal life. You were kind yet stubborn, loved your friends and loved hanging out, and when Kakucho did hesitantly take up your offer for the first time, he fell head over heel for the chance at leading a very normal life, a chance to forget the harsh past he came from.

It helps that the more time he spent with you, the more he felt that he had a new purpose, a new person to serve, especially given how stubborn you were, and there he started his slip into yandere tendencies - you were, after all, the one that gave him another chance at life, a chance to be normal. And Kakucho would cling to that with the same vigour with which he would later cling to Izana. Extremely, extremely loyal, you can always count on this boy being there for whatever you need no matter the time of day. Starts slowly with offering to run and grab coffee for you "on his way" to a study session, and then would turn up outside your house to walk you to school, which would quickly turn into Kakucho offering to do any of your house chores.

All the while he slowly increases the pressure on your friend group to leave you alone, increasingly isolating you from everyone else so that he could keep you to himself. You only needed him after all, you didn't need anyone else - and you needed to focus on him so that he could serve you wholeheartedly. Would absolutely allow you to do anything to him without complaint, and yes, that includes putting bows even though he barely keeps any hair. You wanna hold his hand, sure! You want to dance with him in public, say no more. Want him to run to the other side of town to buy you a slice of cake at the break of dawn because it always runs out? Do you even need to ask?

Once he starts actively trying to keep you and your friends apart is when he starts to dagger glare everyone else around you, but that is as much as he would do when you are present. Because a servant deals with his royalty's issues silently and out of sight. Still a sweet boy at heart, he wouldn't throw hands except when he deems it absolutely necessary - in his mind, he doesn't want to keep you from your friends, no way. He craves the normality that you lent him with your presence and your way of life, but these people aren't your friends. All they do is sabotage you, drag you down, keep you from shining.

He would find you better friends.

Pleases Kakucho greatly that when Izana finally returned to him, and he found that you were indeed compatible and could exist side by side with his king with little conflict. He could serve two royals at the same time of course, but it would be so much easier if the two of you didn't overlap and cross each other - he didn't want to have to pick sides. Would introduce you to the rest of Tenjiku the moment he thinks its safe enough because these people are much better friends than those so-called scum from your school.

No lie, the day you first introduce him as your BFF, I think Kakucho would just melt away from happiness. Izana would be extremely amused.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev #tokyorev x you #kurokawa izana #kurokawa izana x reader #izana x reader #tokyo rev x reader #kakucho #kakucho x reader #kakucho hitto #kakucho x you #yandere kakucho #yandere kakucho x reader

[purityoflust]

The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

#Jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #part two #part 2 #yandere #male yandere #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #gender neutral #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #small series

[wispvial]

So I finally posted my Franklin/Nubbins fanfiction, lol. Shout out to the three or so people who might enjoy it, I just had fun writing, even if I’m not confident! I wasn’t so sure about tagging, but there are allusions to violence and animal death, the kind you’d see in the movie.

#texas chainsaw massacre #nubbins sawyer #franklin hardesty #franknub #tcm #mine

[uniarycode]

Dawn and Dusk

Series: Xros wars/Hunters

Written as part of @digiweek. Day 4, prompt: dark/light

Set shortly after the hunters go to Hong Kong.

Wordcount 2966- a bit heftier than the rest of what I've been posting

Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts.

Yuu did not bring many friends home to the Amano penthouse, but whenever he did the reaction was the same: pure, unabashed jealousy.

His parents were obscenely rich, he was wise enough to recognize it was more than just well off. His home was a middle school student's dream: indoor hot tubs, rooms one could reasonably play basketball in, and no parental supervision. Now, out on the balcony, he could look down and see trees the size of Legos, and a view that stretched out to the ocean. Most kids his age could not help but be envious. To Yuu however, only one feature stood out prominently.

Just how empty it was.

That void grew greater in its sheer size. Ceilings twenty feet high only served to underline just how little there was left to fill the silence. The distance between himself and those he could see on the ground, more metaphor than physical.

His recent trip to Hong Kong had only made this emptiness grow. He loved his sister, and while he’d thought himself used to her absence, it now rushed back to him in full force. They had spent years together in this home, and no matter how many corners it had, each and every one of them hid a precious memory between the pair.

His parents were away; his parents had always been away. Working, logging thirty hours every day to ensure that both he and his children’s children would be able to maintain this life of luxury with no effort on their own part.

So devoted were his parents that the very idea of indulging in such opulence like creature comforts or family were beyond them.

It had taken years for Yuu to associate the concept of ‘father’ with the man who bore the title. And in turn, possessed by Harpymon as he was, his father had not recognized him at all. Next to the protective love for his daughter, the son apparently did not matter at all.

Of all things, Yuu had been mistaken for a prospective suitor, which was certainly not something he wanted to unpack.

And that had been the first time he’d seen his father or his sister in months. Only once before in the year since returning from the digital world had he seen them together. He didn’t hate Nene, he couldn’t hate Nene, but even still, having her leave him like this…. Resentment wasn’t the right word. Bitterness was closer but didn’t quite fit. Envy was the most accurate of the bunch.

Yes, he was envious of Nene, for being able to go out there alone and fulfill her dream, while leaving him behind staring into memories of the past.

“You’re just like Nene.” He’d been told many times, from those who thought it a compliment. They were wrong, he’d initially believed they were wrong on both counts.

Yuu was smart, he knew it, even if he tried to be modest. Concepts just fit together to him in ways as naturally as walking. He even struggled to tutor others. The very idea of not understanding something was one of the few things he himself struggled to understand.

Nene was also intelligent, but it was far from natural. Whatever she did, she threw all her effort behind. With her being the eldest and thus the designated heir, failure was not an option, and she took advantage of every resource necessary to outcompete and outlast the others.

There was only one word he could think of to describe Nene at her most focused: Ruthless. There was no doubt about the success of the Amano corporation under her leadership, she would crush everyone she needed to crush and think little of the consequences. Even in her current profession: becoming an idol was merely a test of how far she could push herself, and Yuu sympathized with any who made the error of underestimating her.

But then, Yuu sympathized with everyone. That had been the other difference he’d believed existed between the siblings. From the lowliest ant to the grandest emperor to the most heinous criminals, he couldn’t stand to harm any of them.

Even the girl who would break the rules to try to steal his friends and swore to turn him into her prisoner, he just couldn’t bring himself to do any lasting harm to. He simply told himself if he was kind enough, if he showed how outmatched she was then Airu would eventually come around, or at least get the help she needed.

His parents had learned his bountiful generosity early. They only sent gifts these days, any allowance would immediately and indiscriminately be forwarded to various charities. He had never seen the problem with it; there were millions who needed money more than him.

He had, in childlike fantasy, seen that as the main distinction between himself and his sister. She had been named for dusk, and he for dawn. She had thrived in cut-throat competition, he had blossomed in a world without scarcity. She was the harbinger of darkness and despair, and he would be the one to lead others to the light.

And yet, he had, with these hands, “So easily…”

And she, in all her ruthless determination, had halted him, saved him.

Even if he didn’t deserve to be saved, maybe it had been out of her own selfishness. Why was his life worth any more than those he’d ended, those he’d tortured? Simply because she knew him and had an emotional attachment? But even that was a blemish on her, sticking her neck out for the likes of him. And he’d done it so easily before, with so little prompting. Who was to say he couldn’t do it again? “Wouldn’t it have been better if I wasn’t saved at all?”

He discovered a surprising bonus to just how long the drop off the balcony was.

“No good, No good.” A voice called out from his pocket. “Thoughts like that are no good at all.”

He stilled his breathing and took a step back. Damemon was right of course. There would be no penance found in death. He couldn’t die now, with the hunt on and needing to help with the digiquartz; his death would be only one more burden he was imparting on those around him.

But he needed to be careful. Damemon was no longer the only Digimon in his Xros loader. He had hunted Superstarmon. That was the point of the hunt, to capture all the Digimon, lost in the Digiquartz.

But the simple idea made his stomach turn. Digimon were living beings, with hopes and dreams, they didn’t deserve to be hunted for sport any more than Taiki or Nene did.

He didn’t feel bad about hunting Superstarmon, the Digimon had himself been hunting Taiki. What worried him, what scared him, was how much he had enjoyed the act of hunting. Of manipulating Tagiru and Ryouma into a situation where he could steal all the glory. Of joint-crossing with Taiki, something that he had been the only one of the original Xros Heart generals to never actually do. Of sneaking Tuwarmon in at the end to steal the capture out from the other hunters.

If he found himself enjoying fighting a bit too much, if he found himself taking joy in the pure act of hunting like Tagiru did, or sacrificing morals for his goals like Airu did? Could he? Would he go back to those times? If he would, shouldn’t he do anything it took to prevent it from happening again? Even if….

He shook his head. If nothing else this last year had proven just how wrong he had been; being compared to Nene was a compliment he didn’t deserve.

His empathy prevented him from truly stopping deranged criminals before they hurt more people. His aptitude was a gift born of biology and circumstance, not an accomplishment to be paraded around.

Even now, he was paralyzed by his own darkness, wallowing in it. While she was on stage, inspiring thousands, becoming the light that kept them moving.

Damemon popped out of his Xros loader. “You need to talk these things through, you can’t just keep it all bottled up.” His partner said.

Talk to whom? This was one subject that he couldn’t even breach with Damemon. ‘Sorry I’m so terrible you had to fight for evil and die’ was even more destined for disaster than his current train wreck of thoughts. “It’s no worse than normal.” He said.

“This is normal?” Damemon asked, seeing through him in an instant. “You need a better normal.”

“It’s just.” He exhaled. “I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. This wasn’t the answer on some test, and he was too wise to search his own knowledge of psychology for an answer. There weren’t any therapists that he could confess to without being either dismissed or thrown in the looney bin. “I got spirited away to another world and became a villain.” is the plot of some anime, not real life.

Tagiru wouldn’t understand. Taiki...might, he was at least physically present and could understand the magnitude of it all. And Taiki was the one who had originally broken through his wishful thinking. But Taiki also tended to attempt to shoulder all burdens by himself, even if there was nothing he could do. There was no reason for Taiki to exhaust himself just for Yuu’s sake.

And somehow, he was too embarrassed to share this weakness with his leader.

“I’m telling you it’s no good.”

It took a few seconds for Yuu to realize his partner wasn’t talking to him and had instead taken advantage of his introspection to swipe his phone.

“Hey.” He objected, reaching down to reclaim it. “You can’t just go calling people.”

“Yuu, are you okay?” His sister’s voice called from the other end of the phone “I’m heading over.” She declared.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, you don’t have to, you can’t-” The line was already dead, he didn’t know how many of his feeble protestations she heard.

The average flight from Hong Kong to Tokyo took over four hours. How Nene left her apartment, procured one, and arrived at his door in less than 2 he didn’t bother to ask. It would have at least required breaking the sound barrier.

But then, barriers had never stopped her before.

“What’s up.” She asked simply

He did his best to muster a scowl. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here; I can take care of myself.”

As was his custom, Damemon destroyed whatever farce Yuu presented. “It’s no good, Yuu’s been having no good thoughts.”

“No good thoughts.” She said quietly, looking between them. “Yuu, you have to understand that wasn’t your fault.”

He quaked but did not respond, her hand reached out to rest on his fist as she repeated herself. “It was not your fault.”

“But it was.” he drew back, “It was my fault. If it hadn’t been for me, then hundreds, thousands, who even knows how many! They all wouldn’t have had to suffer! None of them would have had to die!” he threw his arm out, knocking over some cabinet, a priceless vase colliding to the floor.

Nene seemed unfazed by his outburst, “Bugramon was the one who chose the path of war. You had nothing to do with that, he chose to make them suffer, not you.”

“I chose! I saw them suffering, I saw their pain and I ignored it. No, it’s worse: I enjoyed it! I felt like a god, being able to choose who won and who lost. Using some as pawns to die and keeping others alive for my win.” His voice dropped. “Bugramon didn’t do that. I was the one who did it.”

“That wasn’t your fault either. Darknightmon tricked you. Even I -”

“-Because of me!” he shouted “He used me to enslave, he used me to manipulate you. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to stain your perfect hands. -”

“-Perfect?”

“- God I’m such a screwup. You’re the heir, you’re the eldest. Literally no expectations on me except ‘don’t mess things up’ and I turn both of us into mass murders.”

He felt her arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He couldn’t find the strength to break free, so he stayed there, staining her shirt with his tears.

“I am not perfect.” She said “You are not a screwup. And neither of us are mass murders.”

“We, we.” He couldn’t bear to say it. “It doesn’t matter if they came back. I still…” he unleashed another bought of sobs.

“No good, that thinking is no good.” Damemon insisted. “Death is different to us Digimon. It is unpleasant yes, and best to be avoided. But it’s not like humans do. Digimon never completely die.”

“We are not mass murders.” Nene insisted. “That doesn’t make what either of us did okay, but neither of us are truly murders.”

He wasn’t sure he agreed. His fingers curled into fists. “Even if Digimon come back, humans wouldn’t, right? Taiki had to trick the rose to be set free, you couldn’t just kill him and revive him. And he, I almost.” he couldn’t even bear to say it. “…It was so close.”

Yuu felt a bile burn in his throat, remembering just how little effort more he would have needed to snuff a life out completely. “You too Nene. If Minervamon hadn’t hidden in your Xros loader. In that case I would have, and you would have….”

“But you didn’t,” she said, “and you didn’t intend to. There’s no point worrying about what could have happened if it didn’t happen and you never intended for it to happen. I know you would never want to hurt me.”

He shook his head. It was easy enough to say no harm done, but his nightmares disagreed. Whether or not he was intending to kill her, he was certainly intending on putting a blade through her heart. And he almost did.

She took advantage of his silence to score one more point. “And I am far from perfect. I’m not like you, I stumble more than anyone. Grandma did use to say, it took me a year to learn how to walk, you did it on your first try.”

What did that matter? It wasn’t the first attempt anyone remembered, it was the last one.

“But you always stand back up, and right now, I, I don't.” he swallowed. Everything came to him as easily as walking, and yet, “I don’t always know if I should?”

His sister didn’t respond at first. Perhaps even she was caught off guard by his confession. But then, stumping Nene was a feat he dare not have the audacity to claim.

She held him, bringing them to the ground. One hand rubbed his back, up and down, up and down. “You know, if something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“You would survive.” He muttered, “You always seem to.”

“In name, maybe, but I wouldn’t enjoy any of it. I can’t see life without you.”

He continued to sniffle. God, he was so pathetic, crying here like a baby. “I’m not worth it-”

“You are!” she insisted. “You are worth it all. If anything, your biggest issue is you don’t know your worth; you’re too selfless, you value everything else above yourself.”

“I-I-I” she pulled him into her shirt more fully, muffling his resistance.

“One of these days I’ll teach you to be selfish like me. Until then, we’ll have to weaponize that selflessness of yours.” She pulled him away and stared him dead in the eye. “I want you to promise me, whenever you feel like you can’t keep going, whenever it feels like too much, you’ll find a way to pull through. For me.”

He took a few deep breaths. “That’s awful selfish of you.”

“I said I’d teach you to be selfish like me. You’re learning from the best.” She said “Promise.”

“I could never break a promise with you.”

They stared at each other for a few more seconds.

She took a deep breath. “I told you I stumble more than anyone. I’ve faced failure after failure. Going to Hong Kong, Father cut me off. I had no money, no connections, I had to start from zero. I thought there was no way I could keep going more times than I could count.

“And when those times come, I think of you. I think about how you’d stop everything, just to give a funeral to a butterfly. I think about how you’d always try to help everyone, even when too young or too small to be of any real use. You are my light, the thing that keeps me going even when immersed in darkness.”

Her hands were now on the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “Now promise. Promise me that wasn’t all in vain. Promise me that I won’t lose my reason for continuing to push myself. Promise me you’ll keep going, if only for my sake. That’s all it has to be for now.”

Yuu took a deep breath, body shaking as the request percolated through him.

“I promise.”

She smiled, and pulled him close again, suffocating him in her embrace. “And now your first lesson in selfishness: Just let it all out. Don’t worry about me or Damemon or anyone else.”

That night Yuu released a year’s worth of tears.

Note: one etymology for Yuu is twilight, which doesn’t have to mean dawn, but it kind of fits here.

#digimon #digiweek2021 #digimon xros wars #digimon hunters #yuu amano #nene amano #tw: suicidal thoughts #Aka the fic that took over my life for a bit #Yuu needs more hugs

[mycoronervinny]

re: Quai, Part 3

Vincent sat in his office alone. The blinds behind his desk were drawn, but thin lines of afternoon sunlight still seeped in that highlighted bits of letters that were open and scattered about his desk. It was past noon, or so he thought, and he had done little except for make a pot of coffee (which he then didn’t drink) and let his face stubble get a little longer.

He checked his pocket watch. 1:20 in the afternoon. There were no meetings scheduled, and no colleagues stopping by. His day was completely open, yet he felt like doing nothing.

“Am I depressed or something?” he muttered. He pushed himself off his chair and went to the side door that led to the alley. The view wasn’t anything to rave about, in fact it no longer *had* a view (except for a stone wall, thanks to the business that went up behind his office a couple of years ago, cutting off his back access to the park), but to Vincent, even when the alley was fraction of what it used to be, it was a sanctuary. 

He stepped out into the alley, closing the door behind him. There were a couple of stools out here, including a small garden (though it was nothing but cold hardened dirt this time of year) against the wall. He lit a cigarette, took a quick drag, then leaned back on the brick wall and let out a long, smokey sigh. “Alright.” he said. The next words were about to be “One quick smoke, then it’s time to get work done.” but before he could say that he noticed (and would later internally smack himself for not noticing earlier) that he wasn’t alone.

There was a person, about eight meters to his left, standing over his (now dormant) garden and open trash containers, and appeared to be rummaging around. 

Vincent cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” he said, but the person either didn’t hear or ignored the greeting. Vincent was now used to seeing vagrants in Stormwind, it was a large city after all, and the marathon of Wars left a lot of veterans and civilians displaced from their home or outside of the care of the Crown for some reason or another. He assumed this was another person scavenging, or maybe they were looking for a spare key for his house.

Something was off about this one though, and Vincent realized that there was no physical way for this person to have been able to enter the alley. The wall in the back that went up with the Florist or Jeweler or, whatever it was, went up so high that no normal person should have been able to scale it. And the other entrance was a tall, magically secured gate. Vincent wondered if they perhaps dropped down from one of the rooftops of the buildings that shared his offices. Maybe a third floor window that they climbed out of after fleeing someplace?

“There’s nothing in there but a few dead Peaceblooms,.” Vincent said. “Maybe a walnut that the squirrels left. This is private property, by the way.”

The trespasser didn’t react at first, but they did slow down gradually, eventually coming to a stop. They turned around, showing a disheveled face that was half covered in greasy black hair - a man. He stood straight up as he turned, and Vincent noticed he was quite large, even compared to him. A Kul Tiran, possibly. His eyes were sunken, but not unfocused. This was not some addle-brained wandering homeless, and now Vincent perceived that despite the deep sunken circles around his eyes (which appeared at first glance to be the eyes of your average slum drunk), there was some sinister lucidity behind them.

“The whispers.” the man said. “The whispers brought me...here.” he pointed down at the ground where there was nothing but a cracked stone in the walkway. 

“I don’t recall putting out that type of advertisement.” Vincent said, flicking his cigarette down to the ground. “But why don’t you come by another time, you can even use the front door.” he said, pointing over his shoulder. Behind him, the magic-secured gate unlocked by itself, allowing access to the outer Trade District.

“He showed me, now my eyes are open. Soon, all eyes will be open.” the stranger said as he took another step. Vincent took a step back as well, but kept facing the man. 

“It’s time you saw, too.”

“No thanks.” Vincent said, then hurled a fireball right towards the man’s chest. It soared through the alley, lighting up the stone walls as it traveled. It hit him dead on, and he flew back into the garden bed, smashing it and spilling black dirt all over the ground. Vincent sighed, then started walking towards the body. A small trail of smoke, like that of a burned out bonfire, was twirling off of his singed shirt. He stood over him, then noticed something around his neck. He crouched down, then removed a necklace from him. It was a trinket common amongst Tide Sages. Was this person at one point a colleague of Merrick, his old Tide Sage contact?

Vincent felt a cold hand grip his wrist. He looked down and saw that the man’s eyes had opened. An intense energy enveloped the two of them that filled Vincent with deep terror, and for a moment he thought he was teleported somewhere else entirely, to a place that looked like his home but...not quite. Before he could contemplate this further, Vincent saw that the man’s eyes were lit with that same intense blue glow from before.

“Now you know the truth.” he said, his breath staggered. “You’ve carried this burden long enough-” he looked down, and his expression turned from deranged and serious to one that was more...deranged and confused. He felt his grip on Vincent loosen, but when he tried to grip tighter he felt no response.

“And you’ve kept me from work too long.” Vincent said.

The trespasser’s hand had turned into a hoof, a sheep’s hoof to be exact. And as the man’s eyes followed his arm down toward his elbow, he noticed more and more of his body becoming sheep-like as Vincent’s Polymorph spell enveloped him. 

“N’Zoth rises! N’Zoth...behhhhh.” bleated the sheep.

“Another victim of the Old God.” Vincent muttered. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling so…”

“Off lately?” a whisper from inside his head rang. Vincent wondered if that was his conscious or not. He shook his head, then tied up the sheep.

“You can snack on the crushed Peaceblooms if you get hungry.” he told the sheep. It looked at him, eyes pointing in two directions, then lowered its head and started munching on a partly ruined green stem. Vincent turned around and walked back inside. He would call a guard in a few minutes, but first he would do something he’d been putting off.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out a sheet of blank parchment and a pen.

“Quai,

I received the payment from the job and have deposited it, thank you. I will pass along your regards to Lee as well. As for the next assignment,”

He paused for a moment, twirling the pen with his fingers a couple of times.

“, if there is a next assignment, I hope you would consider bringing me along. I hope you don’t believe I was scared off after last time.”

He considered ending it there, and if he was being honest with himself he wasn’t entirely sure what else he would say anyway. “Sorry I gave you a hard time about the dangerous mission?” The fact was that every mission he’d been on with Blackbay since he joined up had been risky. Something had bothered him about the last mission though, and he wasn’t certain if this letter was the right time to explore that. Perhaps in time the answer would come to him, or if Quai was ever in town again he could talk to her personally. In the meantime though he needed to finish at least one task today, so he ended the letter with:

“Let’s talk soon. Hope you are doing well.

-Vincent”

Outside there was another muffled “Behhhh”.

@quai-mason

[caroline-min-max]

Night Terrors

It’s usually Caroline who has problems with nightmares and a fear of the dark. Tonight, it’s someone else’s turn.

It was barely past 2 AM. All alone in the living room, donned in white pajamas with blue stripes and huddled up on the couch with a blanket around him, Min sat with the light on. The TV set was barely audible, Min worried about waking either Max or especially Caroline up.

Morning was still so far away and he was shaking with fright. It didn't matter that Max was so close by in his own bed in the room they shared together. Min couldn't take being in the dark any longer and slipped out without his brother noticing.

Was this what it was like for Caroline when she was having a bad night? It already was upsetting to Min and Max when it happened but now Min felt an all new level of empathy for her.

This was truly awful. Feeling so jumpy, seeing things that weren’t actually there, questioning every single sound, and too scared about having bad dreams to even attempt sleep.

In Min’s case, it was all because of a horror movie they’d gone to see. Caroline absolutely loved them and always asked if they’d like to accompany her. Min was beginning to dread it every single time. 

It did seem a tad hypocritical. Min had seen his fair share of murder, even committing it himself, but seeing deranged serial killers, monsters, and spooks doing it with buckets of gore was too distasteful for him. Min himself preferred to deliver a quick shot through the head. He could never torture anyone. He’d held a man down and looked away while the White Rabbit had done that.

The movie they’d seen this time was a home invasion flick. Two everyday looking men had completely terrorized an innocent family. No one was safe; not even the baby or dog. Min’s stomach started churning and he actually had to spit out his mouthful of popcorn into a napkin, unable to swallow it. 

Caroline and Max were seemingly unaffected. Caroline’s attention was glued to the screen when he looked over at her. Max had covered his eyes a few times but still seemed invested in what was going on. Only Min seemed to want to hightail it out of the theater when it was obviously the innocent family was doomed.

Now, while Max and Caroline were sleeping soundly, Min was paranoid and longing to see daylight. It was all infomercials or religious programming on TV as he channel surfed. He eventually found a rerun of a trashy talk show and decided to leave it there. 

Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Never before could Min recall a night dragging on this long. Looking at the clock on the wall made it ever worse. It seemed to be standing still. Maybe it was out of batteries? Should he get up to check?

“Are you alright?”

A soft voice behind him and a hand on his shoulder made Min shout in alarm and jump. In response, he heard a startled gasp as the hand was quickly moved. He quickly looked back to see a nervous looking Caroline in a flowy pink nightgown, scared from his extreme reaction yet the worry for him was obvious in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Min!” Now that Caroline could see his face she could tell which twin it was. “I didn’t think that would frighten you!”

“I-it’s OK, Miss White!” Min assured, wondering if his heart rate would ever slow down again. She’d nearly made him jump out of his skin! “Is the TV too noisy?” Although he wasn’t quite sure just how loud something had to be for Caroline’s ears to detect it he’d thought it was low enough. 

“Not at all,” Caroline answered as she took a seat next to him on the couch. It felt almost odd to have some personal space for once without Max there. He and Min tended to feel like matching bookends when they’d sit so close to her. “I wanted some water and saw the light on. What are you doing up?”

“I...” Min hesitated. “Can’t sleep,” he answered, deciding to leave it at that; he didn’t want Caroline to think that he was a sissy. Everyone had troubles sleeping every once in awhile; it was a suitable excuse. 

“Insomnia or something else?” Caroline pried. Min was awfully jumpy and he didn’t look very well. 

“Insomnia,” Min answered quickly, only to get a skeptical look from Caroline. He wasn’t just laying awake in bed; he’d come all the way out here to turn the lights and TV on. He should have known that she’d realize there was more to it. “I...” It was so embarrassing to admit. “I didn’t like the movie...” 

“Oh...” Caroline hadn’t expected that. “It was pretty extreme compared to what else we’ve seen,” she acknowledged after thinking about the content a little more. “I do hope the next one focuses more on the scares instead of prolonged violence.” Even she had winced when it came to the fate of the poor dog. 

“Miss White...” Min had gone this far, he might as well tell her the whole truth since she wasn’t getting it. “I don’t...” He glanced away from her for a moment. “I don’t like horror movies. I haven’t liked any of them.” He looked back to see that Caroline wasn’t mad; rather her ears had perked up in surprise.

“But...” Caroline’s brow crinkled in confusion. She’d honestly had no clue. Min had never given any indication he felt this way. “You’ve gone to so many with me! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to be left out...” Min muttered sheepishly.

Guilt stabbed at Caroline’s heart. She could see that as being a big enough motivator to force himself to keep going. “I’m so sorry! It won’t be like that! I’ll go to them on my own and you, Max, and I can go see something else together. I know Max will understand!”

Min smiled at her appreciatively. That went a lot easier than he expected and he likely would have saved himself a lot of grief if he’d just been honest sooner. Max didn’t like to do things without him anyway. Although, Min couldn’t think of any other genre Caroline tended to enjoy. What would they see instead?

“Hey... Can I ask you somethin’?” Min had come this far and Caroline recently stopped being such a grouch when he or Max asked her personal questions. She’d actually been willing to open up to them.  

“Yes?” Caroline asked as she made herself more comfortable on the couch since she was going to be there longer than she expected. 

“Why do you like those movies so much anyway?” 

Caroline smirked. “Because, Min...” She paused for a moment, just picturing how he’d look at her after she explained. She really didn’t want to see it. This was going to be way more than someone as simple minded as Min was expecting. “That’s how I see the world. Happy endings are all a fantasy I can’t get into. Sometimes the monsters in the real world are obvious looking like the Joker but most of them appear just like your average person. They’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Caroline leaned in closer to Min’s face, locking eye contact with him. 

“They put needles in my irises to changed the pigment, Min,” Caroline said, making him flinch when she placed her two pointer fingers centimeters away from his eyes for emphasis before withdrawing them. “Feeling the pains of my body being altered, them chaining me up like an animal... It’s nothing for me to see someone get a chainsaw to the head in a movie. It actually could have been worse...” Caroline gently curled her hands around her throat. “They talked about removing my vocal cords since I wouldn't stop screaming,” She moved her hands and jabbed her pointer finger into the side of her head. “and doing brain surgery on me to make me more obedient. I’m in a horror movie myself that will never be over only I’VE become the monster to survive.”

Min was staring at her with his mouth agape. Talking in vivid detail about what had happened to her during the time she’d been experimented on was usually off limits. Now here Caroline suddenly was, giving Min new horrible images to fixate on and she wasn’t done.

Without realizing it Caroline had scooted over far enough to make Min feel somewhat trapped on the sofa. Normally he liked being close to her but this time it felt somewhat claustrophobic, like he was trapped. He could always stand up but he was almost afraid to look away from her for even a moment.

“Mr. Dent used to protect me. Mr. Nygma said it was nice to see a fresh face in Arkham. Miss Isley complimented my hair and helped me wash the blood out of it after that one riot. I know it upset you boys but Mr. Cobblepot was trying to be polite when he kissed me hand and introduced himself.” Caroline reflected fondly on the surprisingly pleasant meetings she’d had with these supposedly fearsome Rouges. 

Caroline knew her place in hierarchy and purposely went out of her way to make it clear she wasn’t going to step on anyone’s toes. That respect had gone a long way in making sure no one had a reason to want to harm her. Only the Joker was a concern as no one was off limits if he came up with an idea that amused him.

“Those villains that all of Gotham are my allies now but I’m still terrified,” Caroline admitted, a small tremble to her voice. “The people that should be feared most are the ones who aren’t obvious about it. They’re the ones you might have welcomed into your home not realizing they have a thing for torturing animals. Your co-worker might be going home every night to abuse his wife. Those are the kinds of people who did this to me.”

A chill ran down Min’s spine when Caroline actually started laughing. It wasn’t a gleeful laugh but rather a desperate one as recalled how terrible her situation used to be. There was nothing else she could do about it now. 

“I was the favorite of one of the regulars at that club I told you about. He... He told me that I reminded him of his daughter and he’d be furious if he caught her working in a place like this. Didn’t stop him from trying to feel me up, though!” Caroline forced another laugh as she slapped her knee. “No sirree!”

Caroline kept waiting for Min to try and say something but he had no idea what to do right now except listen. She could tell he was still with her even though he looked so uncomfortable.

“I have no doubt that I murdered men who had those around them convinced they were good people and they’re missed. I will NEVER regret setting that club on fire for how they treated all of us women there,” Caroline said firmly, more than sure of herself. "So that's why, Min. That's why I want to watch horror movies. It's nice to be sitting on the other end as an observer and know that, whether or not the characters live or die, they're no doubt walking away from that experience just as screwed up as I am."

That’s it. She was finally done. Caroline hadn’t held back, both wanting to finally spill her guts but also curious to see just how much Min could take. Since he wanted to know so bad she’d let him have it. 

For as much sense as that made Min hadn't expected to hear all that from Caroline. He sat there for a moment as he took in everything she'd said, Caroline watching him with amusement. 

It was hard for Caroline to repress a smug smile. The twins were sweet but “intelligent” would never be a word she’d associate them with. This was likely way too over Min’s head for him to even respond with anything.

It was nice that they all got along well but Caroline had been thinking about just how far she wanted to allow that. The twins had been calling her their “friend” of their own accord. She’d silently accepted that but wasn’t sure how she’d felt about it. 

It was dangerous letting people get too close. Caroline could never directly push the twins away after all they’d done for her but maybe she could make them think they’d done it themselves. 

Friends should be able to handle just how fucked up one another was, right? 

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard...” Min finally replied. He felt heartbroken to have that kind of insight in Caroline’s thoughts. “I...” He wasn’t as good with words or being comforting like Max was but he had to try. “I hope me and Max can change your mind! We’ll take you out more often! We’ll show you more of the good stuff that’s out there!”

“You really think that cancels out everything I’ve been through?” Caroline snapped. This wasn’t how the flow of conversation was supposed to go. She’d planned for Min to awkwardly excuse himself and run away. For this to stop the twins from continuing to treat her more like family than a boss.

“N-No... But... What good is being angry and sad all the time doing for you?” Min asked nervously, wilting under Caroline’s harsh gaze. For such a tiny woman she could muster up looks that made grown men cower. 

Min and Max had been through a scenario like this with Two Face keeping himself miserable by refusing to see Grace again. Caroline’s situation was a lot worse to the point where Min was overwhelmed but he was going to try his hardest to at least make it a little better.

“W-well I...” Caroline was the one who was tongue tied now. She didn’t have a snappy comeback prepared for Min’s question. “It’s not, but...”

“Aren’t you happy with us?” Min asked desperately. He and Max had tried so hard to bring a smile smile to the rabbit eared woman’s face that was usually seething with annoyance. “Or... Are we that useless to you too?” He held his breath for the answer. All Two Face had done was criticize he and Max no matter how hard they tried. Were they failures at being friends as well henchmen.

“Min...” Seeing him so vulnerable took all the wind out of Caroline’s sales. She didn’t have it in her to find a way to argue against him. “You and Max...” If she admitted this out loud she really would never be rid of them. “Are the only two good things in my life and I don’t know where I’d be right now if you both had given up on me.”

A smile of pure delight and happiness spread across Min’s face, gratitude radiating from his eyes. So Caroline did appreciate the two of them. It wasn’t just all in their heads. She really did need them. 

Min’s smile was so contagious Caroline couldn’t help feeling happy as well despite the grim subject matter they’d been talking about. These damn twins could manage to brighten up her mood no matter what and maybe that was just what she needed.

“Fine...” Caroline sighed. “Fine! You win! I’ll let you and Max try and make me believe in ‘Happily ever afters’, OK?”

“We will, Miss White!” Min assured as he eagerly gripped both her hands and held them. “I promise!”

Caroline nodded. Only time would tell, she supposed, although she had plenty of doubts. 

Feeling better, Min walked backed to his room with Caroline, wishing her a “goodnight” before entering. Once he shut the door behind him Caroline started to walk away, stopping when she heard that Max was awake. 

Unable to stop herself from eavesdropping, Caroline pressed her ear against the door to hear their conversation clearly. It seems they were discussing where Min had been for so long.

“Hey, Max? Why don’t those horror movies bother you?” Min asked, wanting to hear his brother’s reasoning. He and Max hadn’t gone through anything like Caroline to justify wanting to see such upsetting subject matter.

“Two Face was scarier than any of those killers,” Max answered, then sharing a laugh with his brother while Caroline placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her chuckle. That was an excellent point! “I guess...” Joking aside, Max thought about it a little more. “I don’t feel like I have anything to be scared of. You’ve always been there to help me and now Miss White is protecting us too. So far we’ve killed almost anyone who messes with us,” he said proudly.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Min replied confidently. “Thanks, Max! I think I can go back to sleep now!”

Min should have known he could have gone to Max with his worries. His twin always had a more positive way of viewing the world that made sense to him. After saying goodnight Min laid down in his bed and quickly dozed off, the events of the movie no longing haunting him.

Hearing it go quiet, Caroline stood back from the door and started for her own bedroom down the hall. She hadn’t disregarded what Min said to her. She supposed that it could be possible to find a mix of seeing more positives in the world while staying realistic about the bad things that happen as well. 

Gotham City was a harsh and cruel place to live in, yet Caroline was finding those little slices of paradise here and there. One of them was her own home, and it had only become better with her two new housemates.

“OK...” Caroline decided for certain, speaking to herself softly as she stood in front of the doorway to her room, looking back at the twins’ door. “I really will give it a shot.” 

Saying and doing were two very different things, however. Life wasn’t all bad, she couldn’t argue that point with Min. Just maybe appreciating what she had a little more might make her happier in turn.That fairy tale ending just might be more realistic than she thought.

[puppetwritings]

Please! This isn’t a Game! || Pt. 1 || Jeonghan

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 //

➢ Word Count: 4332

➢ Genre: sci-fi, fantasy, fluff, comedy, transmigration

➢ Summary: What do you do when you get thrown into an unknown world? Well, Jeonghan sure as heck does not know.

--------

“This isn’t a game,” the system said. “This is real life. If you die here, you’re really going to die! There’s not even a guarantee that you’ll go back to your reality. It’s better if you just take the long route. Don’t try to do anything flashy! Be lowkey! And please don’t join the military!”

Jeonghan’s lips were pressed into a line as he trudged through the crowd. His brows were furrowed and anyone who stood longer than three seconds in his path were faced by an icy glare. “Listen, you trashy system, I didn’t get on my knees and snivel and cry to that dumb old man, just for you to tell me my genius idea is bad.”

The system shrank back and said nothing as it watched Jeonghan signed his name on the check-in for the civil exam.  

“I know what I’m doing. Plus, you can boost my specs, can’t you?” Jeonghan said, putting the pencil back into the cup and moving aside.  

“I can! I can, but I can’t make you indestructible!”

“Then I’ll just become so powerful that I’ll be indestructible,” Jeonghan smirked to himself as he started to walk back through the crowd.

Yoon Jeonghan, nearly thirty, had been transmigrated into the body of a twenty-three-year-old with the same exact appearance as him and even the same name. The only difference? It was an alternate universe where magic ruled and the world wasn’t on the verge of falling apart.

He actually liked this place better. He wasn’t attached to stuffy rules, flashy cameras and paparazzi that poked themselves into his business, or parents who scolded him for anything he did “wrong”. It wasn’t “wrong”, it was just unconventional. And here, Jeonghan could be as unconventional as he wanted to be.

The only thing he was attached to was--

“Are you even listening, Host?!”

“Totally not,” Jeonghan easily answered.

The system wanted to cry. “I was explaining the timeline to you.”

“No need, I got it. This guy, Yoon Jeonghan, lived a tortuous life with his dad and his half-brother. This is a universe with magic and he was what people in Harry Potter would call a squib. He found out his half-brother was trying to take over the world, tried to stop him, and died!” Jeonghan easily summarized. He cockily tilted his head at the system. “His dying wish was to be stronger, fiercer, cunninger, and be able to take down his older brother, isn’t that right?”

“That’s right. You got everything right, but,” the little orb that the system embodied turned a bright red before it bellowed, “Why are you joining the military!?”

“His dad and brother are in the military, right? General and, what was it? Colonel?”

The system sighed. “And do you know what I am, even?”

“A system.”

“Yes?”

“An information giver. An NPC that gives quests,” Jeonghan said. “Um, Navi in Legend of Zelda. Hey, you even look like her. All you need are wings.”

The system would cry if it could. Of all the hosts it could have chosen, why did it choose this guy!?

Jeonghan sensed the system’s distress and he sighed. “You chose me for a reason, right? Just trust me.”

“I’m an AI, AIs don’t experience things like trust or emotions.”

“I would beg to differ,” Jeonghan said. “It’s okay, little system, you don’t have to lie to yourself. There’s even that one game in my universe. About like, androids becoming human? We’ve entertained that type of idea for centuries! You don’t have to pretend just to not scare me. Speaking of which, do you have a name?”

“No.”

“Then, can I call you Navi? Or are you gender-conscious.”

The system let out a long sigh. “Navi is fine.”

“Navi it is,” Jeonghan said, smiling in a self-satisfied way.

The entire conversation had taken place in Jeonghan’s head, but his constantly changing expressions still scared the few of the people applying to get into the military academy.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I managed to convince that deranged old man?” Jeonghan asked, sitting down on a bench and waiting for the proctors to start calling names.

“I was there.”

“You’re absolutely no fun,” Jeonghan sighed.

“I thought he was going to shoot you.”

“Would you have protected me?”

“This early in the timeline? I might have had to,” the system grumbled.

“But you said this little squib is actually powerful, right?” Jeonghan asked as he plucked some flowers from the cracks in the pavement.

“Don’t call him--never mind,” the system sighed. “Yes, he’s powerful. Because they only checked for light magic, they missed his dark magic potential.”

“Well, why would good guys look for dark magic anyway?” Jeonghan said. “It’s perfectly normal for them to miss this guy and mistake him as a squib.”

“Don’t use that term.”

“Why? Is it copyrighted?”

“Well, yeah, it is.”

“Are you conscious of copyright?” Jeonghan asked, pausing in his movements.

The system thought for a moment. “No.”

“Then it’s fine.”

The system remained silent as Jeonghan weaved the few flowers he found around him into a bracelet. He shamelessly slipped it on before leaning back and watching young men who had a better physique than him line up for the civil exam.

“Thank goodness I got to inherit the other guy’s memories,” Jeonghan mumbled aloud. “Who knows if I can pass a civil exam if I wasn’t able to?”

“If we didn’t allow you to inherit his memories, perhaps you wouldn’t be as irrational,” the system quietly reasoned to itself.

Jeonghan shot a glare at the system and the system sadly floated down beside Jeonghan. It threw up a white flag.

“How much can you boost up my specs without it being physically obvious?” Jeonghan asked.

He had grown bored of just sitting on a bench and was now roaming around, looking at the food stalls that surrounded the area. He stopped at one that sold something similar to takoyaki and bought some using the money that he stole from his dad.

“I could maximize your speed and endurance. I could also maximize your strength. Your body wouldn’t change at all, except maybe getting a little more toned.”

“Perfect,” Jeonghan shoved a takoyaki ball in his mouth and then stopped walking for a moment. “Do I have to exercise to maintain it?”

“Host, if you join the military, you have to exercise anyway,” the system pointed out.

“But actively. With a purpose. Do I have to do that to maintain it?”

“No.”

“Perfect,” Jeonghan went back to eating.

It was another forty minutes before the proctor started to call names. Jeonghan had already finished two plates of takoyaki by then and had drank four bottles of water. He arrived just in time for his name to be called. He took is nameplate and confidently walked into the testing center, completely ignoring the looks of surprise from those who recognized him.

The exam was similar to the imperial examination that was given out in Ancient China. You would be given a question and you would have to answer it clearly in eight pages. If your idea were good enough, you would pass and continue onto the physical test. If you failed the physical test, but passed the civil test, you were eligible to become a politician and you could attempt the physical test again in another four years. If you failed the civil test, you could also attempt that again in four years, but you were only allowed three tries.

Jeonghan, luckily, arrived at the time that the exams were taking place. He easily breezed through the civil exam with his newly gained knowledge as well as his knowledge from the other world. He received a letter, confirming his above average test score, and was told to report back at the square in a few weeks to take the physical test.

“See,” Jeonghan haughtily showed the system in his mind. “See, I did it. And you doubted me.”

“I never had a doubt in my mind, host,” the system said.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. What a liar.

“Host, what are you planning to do for the few weeks leading up to the physical test?” the system asked. There was nothing to do. Jeonghan’s transmigration and decision to enter the military warped the timeline, which caused them to miss out on a major event. It wasn’t important but it was the first contact this world’s Jeonghan had to the dark forces.

“Seek death.”

“Huh?”

“You said my arrival caused warps, right? But they still have to carry out their mission,” Jeonghan said. “I could offer myself up as a distraction.”

“Please, host, do you not remember what I said a few days back?” the system sounded as if it were in tears again. “If you die here, you might really die!”

“Navi, it’s fine. I know what I’m doing,” Jeonghan replied just as breezily as he had a few days ago. “Besides, I’m sure that brother of mine is itching for an opportunity to crush me.”

“Why is that?”

“Yoon Jeonghan is actually trying now,” Jeonghan said. “Before, Jeonghan was a crying, wimpy kid whom their father hated and mistreated. In the previous world, he never tried that so everyone thought he was just a no-talented embarrassment. But now, he wants to make something of himself. Even if there’s a chance that I might succeed, that half-brother will definitely try to snuff it out.”

“To the point of wanting to kill you?”

“Yep!” Jeonghan chirped. “Before, he was used as a pawn piece, now, my dear brother might actually be sending me to my death.”

“But you can’t—that’s—host!”

“Yes, Navi?”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“Which is precisely why I have to do it. If I’m already causing ripples, why don’t I just make a wave?”

Just as Jeonghan thought this, the door was politely knocked. Jeonghan signaled for the visitor to come in and watched as the butler bowed.

“Second Young Master, Master would like to see you in his study.”

“Speak of the devil,” Jeonghan thought. He nodded to the butler and followed him out of his room.

“Host, please don’t do this,” the system begged helplessly as it followed its host down the velvet carpeted halls.

“What are you crying so pitifully about?” Jeonghan asked, a gentle smile on his face that suited a sickly young lord. “If you keep crying, I’m gonna lock you in the closet, Navi.”

The system gaped at its host. Had there ever been such a twisted host recorded in history? Most likely not! Because they all died before they could complete the mission! The little system screamed indignantly in its heart but on the outside, it remained a calm blue.

“Host, you’re going to—”

“We both know what they’re going to use me as for this mission,” Jeonghan said.

“A double?”

“Exactly. But instead of being a helpless little lamb that gets captured, I’ll become a valiant hero that does better than my brother did in the previous timeline,” Jeonghan said.

“You have quite high expectations for yourself,” the system noted monotonously.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with that,” Jeonghan replied.

“Host, have you ever heard of biting off more than you can chew?” the system asked. “Because you’ll choke if you do that!”

“Everything you say alludes back to dying,” Jeonghan grumbled. “Can you calm down? I won’t die! I didn’t die in my own world, so I won’t die in this one.”

“But in your own world, no one was actively trying to kill you, were they!?”

“People were,” Jeonghan scoffed. “Goodness, Navi, you don’t know anything about me, do you? Don’t go around making assumptions about me and be a good, quiet little system.”

The system was stunned into a silence and stayed that way until they got to the study.

The butler calmly opened the door and bowed before leaving after accomplishing his task. Jeonghan stepped into the room and took on the posture the previous Jeonghan often had—slouched, unconfident, and looking down.

“Father, Brother,” Jeonghan mumbled.

“Look at you,” Jeonghan’s brother, Taewook, threw an arm over his shoulder. “How are you going to join the military like this? You can’t even look us in the face.”

“Taewook,” their father interjected. “He doesn’t need to look us in the face. He shouldn’t be looking superior officers in the face anyway.”

Taewook chuckled, releasing his brother with a push. “That’s true.”

Jeonghan stumbled, though he really didn’t need to. Seeing its host act like this, the system felt its nonexistent heartache a little. It quickly snapped out of it though after remember Jeonghan’s plan. This man was just extremely good at acting!

“So, Jeonghan, you want to enter the military, right?”

Jeonghan looked up so fast, it seemed that his neck would snap. He nodded several times excitedly. Just by doing this movement, his face paled. His father and his brother’s faces contorted into mocking smiles but the innocent young man didn’t seem to notice.

“Then, you must be willing to help us with tasks. We will be raiding the lair of the Mutated Butterflies in a week and we need someone to be a decoy.”

Jeonghan’s excited eyes diminished a moment and he looked back down. His voice came out in a worried shake. “But—but, father, I know nothing of how the military or how anything works yet. That is why I decided to go to the military academy first.”

“Yes, I know, but you, my boy,” Jeonghan’s father leaned in closer, “You’re special.”

Jeonghan’s face lit up again and he listened intently.

“All you have to do is to bring the decoy troop in towards the front and your brother a few special operatives will sneak in the back and take everyone down.”

Jeonghan nodded. After a moment, he timidly spoke again. “But, father, will the soldiers in the decoy troop die?”

True to the original character, Jeonghan acted naïve and thought only of other people. For now, until he completed his first mission of getting in contact with dark forces and actually activating his powers, he couldn’t OOC too much or he would be directly ejected from this world and well, the system wasn’t sure what would happen after that. Each world varied on how they punished hosts.

General Yoon smirked behind his hand. He took a deep breath to recover himself before standing and walking around his desk. He approached Jeonghan, but Jeonghan flinched at the outstretched hand. The hand finally landed on Jeonghan’s shoulder and Jeonghan was roughly pulled closer until General Yoon was only an inch from his face.

“My boy,” General Yoon spoke in that low, magnetic voice that didn’t charm people but caused them to tremble in fear. “You shouldn’t think about the others. Think only of yourself and of your mission. Who cares if they’re sacrificed if our mission succeeds and you survive?”

Jeonghan let out a nervous laugh and nodded shakily. He took a step back when he was released and he bumped into Taewook. “Ri—right. Right. Father, you are absolutely right.”

General Yoon said back behind his large oak desk. The chair squeaked under him. “Then, Jeonghan, you agree to come with us?”

“Of course, father,” Jeonghan said, his eyes shining like a hopeful youth. “I will not let you or Brother down!”

Jeonghan was soon dismissed after given vague and brief instructions. Jeonghan excitedly left but half way back to his room, that cheerful smile dissolved from his face and his giddy expression was replaced by a look of absolute disdain.

“Host, do you have a plan?” the system nervously asked. No matter how it looked at it, this was obviously stepping into a bear trap!

“Of course not.”

“What?!”

“We’ll play it by ear,” Jeonghan said. He opened the door to his room and sprawled out on his king sized, silk-covered bed. He rolled to the side and poked the floating system. “But I’ll make sure I won’t die. If things don’t go to plan, I can always run off and hide like a coward.”

“But host, you don’t have a plan to go by! What if you get captured?”

“Honestly, getting captured may be the best plan. In the previous timeline, Wimpy Jeonghan ran off and hid, right? He was slightly injured by the dark forces, which allowed him to be marked but they didn’t want to take the risk of snagging him because he seemed weak at the time,” Jeonghan began to reason. “If I get captured, I’d get tortured for information, if I get tortured for information then more dark matter will spill out of me and they will know that I’m worth their time.”

“Why do you want them to know you’re worth their time? All you need to do is get stabbed by a dark weapon and your powers will activate as the dark magic seeps into you.”

“I want them to know I’m worth their time because I want to be one of them,” Jeonghan said. He closed his eyes and smirked. “Only when I’m one of them, can I completely kill that pair of rotten family members.”

 --------

“Host, this is really dangerous,” the system fluttered around Jeonghan nervously. “You can back out now! You might not survive the torture!”

Jeonghan waved the system off as if he were waving a fly. He had been completely dressed in Taewook’s armor, meaning his face was half covered by a fabric mask and he was wearing a helmet that resembled a motorcyclist’s helmet, though slimmer. The armor was slim as well, but was made completely of flexible metal that would block any low to mid-level weapons and magical attacks. Of course, this type of armor was useless against the dark forces who would mostly be using mid-range to high-range attacks and weapons.

“Navi, calm down. I’ve already thought it through,” Jeonghan said.

“You won’t go through with it?!”

“I will,” Jeonghan smirked under his mask. He lifted his sword and yelled “Charge!” in the way Taewook had told him to, and rode off first.

The system floated by him leisurely and watched in shock as he jabbed, parried, dodged, and counterattacked with ease on a horse. The system floated in closer. “Host, have you done this before? From the information I obtained and from what I saw while I was briefly in your world, you don’t have this sort of thing. It’s all mechanical.”

“I took some fighting lessons as a kid,” Jeonghan said.

The system became silent. That doesn’t explain your fast-adaptive skills and superhuman reflexes, host.

Sure, Jeonghan’s adapting skills were fast, but he was quickly forced to retreat and was nearly knocked from his horse multiple times. The few moves he showed that impressed the system earlier were forgotten as he was shoved off his horse and tumbled into a tree.

“Host, are you okay?” the system flew around Jeonghan’s head until Jeonghan used his sword as a lever to get off the ground.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy,” Jeonghan said. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

The system watched worriedly as Jeonghan flew back into battle. “Host, there is one thing I’m still confused about.”

“Yes, Navi?”

“You said you wanted to be a hero but you also said you wanted to get captured,” the system floated next to Jeonghan’s head.

“A hero can get captured. I just have to protect the soldiers to the best of my ability before I fall. They will think I am Taewook and find it confusing as to how I lost so easily and didn’t just leave them behind,” Taewook had a reputation of leaving his soldiers if it became too difficult, “and then they find out it was actually me, the weak and sickly young master, working hard to protect them. At least a quarter of them will be moved.”

The system was starting to understand its host’s way of thinking but still it was too complicated.

The dark forces were closing in about an hour and a half into battle. The soldiers were indeed surprised that “Taewook” stayed so long with them. They had heard of his reputation while they were still training and had fully expected him to abandon him. They felt a little touched that this didn’t happen, but now they really wished he would leave!

To the soldiers, “Taewook” was probably feeling a little ill. He moved a lot sluggishly and clumsier than usual. Although he threw himself at anyone who was in danger, his stamina could only last so long if he was sick!

Just as the soldiers thought up to this point “Taewook” became even slower. Jeonghan, who was under the mask of Taewook, felt exhausted. He had told the system to lower his specs back down and make them only a little higher than the original of this world. Being able to hold out for an hour and a half was already commendable, but in order to do this, Jeonghan felt that his body was about to tear apart.

Jeonghan was now surrounded by an army of dark forces. His soldiers were further away. They had become caught up and distracted, only to find out they had fallen into a trap! As the dark force soldiers slowly advanced, Jeonghan felt a wash of relief come over him. Finally. Finally, he would be captured—

Jeonghan let out a strangled scream as he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted up.

He was thrown onto a horse. He felt a warm hand on his back as he was tossed between the body and the neck of the horse. He could hear the surprise screams from his soldiers and the enemy soldiers but the clash and the blasts soon faded and eventually, all Jeonghan could hear was the running stream.

He was carefully slipped off the back of the horse and his “savior” followed him.

At first, Jeonghan thought it was Taewook but after some careful consideration, he figured it was not. The system, which had been shocked into disappearance, materialized beside him again and Jeonghan grumply directed a mental question at it “Who is this?”

“I’m not sure,” the system answered honestly, floating around the mysterious person in the black, fluttering cloak. “I can identify this person as female and I can verify that she was also in the original timeline, but as for her name, I can’t be sure as I do not have access to the memory files that contain this information.”

“Then, an alias?”

“She is known as the Huntress and she works for Mutated Butterflies.”

Jeonghan felt a flutter of delight. Then she was here to capture him! He was just taken away so she could personally lock him up!

Instead of getting cuffed or tied or having his “powers” locked, Jeonghan felt shock and terror shock his entire being as the Huntress fell down in front of him. Her hands hovered close to the wounds that had torn through his armor but she sat back. When she spoke, worry filled her voice.

“Taewook, are you alright? Why didn’t you just run away as you always do? That was such a silly thing to do!” the female said.

Jeonghan stared at the Huntress in shock. He inhaled sharply and found himself scooting back a step.

“Ah, I found another piece of information,” the system said. “In the later part of the storyline, it is revealed that the Huntress is one of Taewook’s lovers.”

“Taewook, what’s wrong?” the Huntress moved closer again.

Jeonghan crawled back another three steps. He pursed his lips and was about to speak when the Huntress pitifully sighed.

“I know, you won’t be able to explain to the soldiers, but I couldn’t just watch you get beat up like that! You understand my heart, can’t you?” the Huntress moved quickly and hugged Jeonghan.

Jeonghan let out a wheezing sound similar to a squeaky toy with a dead squeaker.

“If you were sick, you shouldn’t have come out to the battle field,” the Huntress continued to coo. “That disgusting father of yours has no morals!”

Jeonghan wanted to struggle to leave but in his current, very injured and drained out state, he could do nothing but become limp in her hands.

The Huntress cursed out their father some more. Jeonghan had begun to black out but he quickly regained his senses when the Huntress reached out for Jeonghan’s helmet.

His hand reacted on its own and he quickly smacked the Huntress away. As the Huntress was also wearing a mask, he could not see her expression. He could only gauge by how hurt she was through her voice.

“I'm sorry, I’ve crossed the line,” she said weakly.

Really, Jeonghan thought, what did she see in this man! He was obviously a villain! Obviously cheating her! Obviously abusing her love for him! If she was used to this sort of treatment, then he was only using her!

“Send me back to camp,” Jeonghan managed to gruffly spit out after a long moment of silence. He took care to make his voice as close to Taewook’s as possible but he could not measure the accuracy. He was barely conscious.

A rotten man or not, Jeonghan had to act like Taewook or he would be flayed and flamed. So, when the Huntress attempted to help Jeonghan onto his horse, he arrogantly brushed her off and opted to struggle himself.

His short journey with the Huntress ended with Jeonghan valiantly stumbling off her horse and valiantly ignoring a woman who loved him (Taewook) and valiantly collapsing in front of the camp without making it one step further into its premises. His plan to activate his powers had terribly failed but he had achieved half of what he set out to do.

When Yoon Jeonghan woke up, five days later, he will have found that he successfully entered the military academy without taking the physical test and rightfully became named as a hero.

~~~

(A/N: check out the description or the pting ff tag on my blog for new chapters!)

#jeonghan #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan scenario #jeonghan fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #pting ff

[itsjustaphase-mom]

Luther Hargreeves

ok listen. i know he is certainly not a fan favourite and i absolutely hated him the first few times i watched ua. but this time, i rewatched it specifically to try to sympathize with luther and guys there are so many things at play here

he doesn’t realize the extent to which his siblings were abused. he brushes klaus off and doesn’t think twice about locking up vanya again because he just assumes they had the same experience. he’s not being an asshole (on purpose), he just never stopped to think about the fact that being Hargreeves’ favourite made life a lot easier for him.

similar to the first note, he never stopped to consider the implications of having powers that hurt to use. he has super strength, something that, compared to some of the other powers in the family, is nothing. he just doesnt realize what seeing corpses is like, which is why he doesnt get klaus’ addiction (and to be fair, neither do the rest of his siblings). Same with Vanya. He doesn’t think about what it’s like to learn you have powers after being told you’re horribly boring and average your whole life, nor what it’s like to find out your memory was erased. he had it a lot easier than his siblings, but he doesnt think about that. that leads to some poor decisions and awful seeming actions, but keep in mind that we know a lot more than he does about his siblings. we’ve seen their pain but he hasnt. no one in this damn family communicates, so he just doesnt get it. i wish hed stop to think about how other people feel every once in a while, but itd also help if they just straight up said “hey being high keeps the gory corpses out of my field of view, im not a fan of this either” to help him understand. he wasnt taught empathy, but he tries for the most part. honestly, the fact that he turned out that nice considering what he grew up with? kind of incredible

hes not just obsessed with the moon. and to be fair, he has a right to it? i mean i havent stopped talking about this show for 2 months and ive had other things happening in my life. he was alone up there for 4 years. that doesnt give you much conversation material. and also, bringing up the idea that the apocalypse could be caused by the moon makes sense because, yeah, he was sent up there by their dad who knew about the apocalypse (whether luther was aware of that or not). He was up there to look for threats, so its not that odd to consider that the threat he was watching for could have caused the apocalypse...oh speaking of which HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE MOON IT DID CAUSE THE APOCALYPSE

i think a lot of people like to ignore the fact that he was also abused. sure, it wasnt to the extent of klaus or vanya but he had a horrible childhood nonetheless which messed him up too. he wasnt taught a lot of the things we take for granted so like i said earlier, the fact that he’s not completely deranged is astonishing

also can we mention the horrible trauma he went through? like lmao monkey man but oh my gosh can you imagine? he almost died (in a horribly painful way) and woke up months later with a fucking gorilla body. he’ll never look like a normal person again. he probably will never be able to look in the mirror and like what he sees (you can find out first hand what its like to be me so GATHER ROU-) yes everything Klaus went through was horrible but Luther has lived through some fucked up shit too and i think we like to ignore that because he’s not very likeable

the scene with vanya. it hurts me every time i think about it. HOWEVER. i understand why he did it. do i think he made the right choice? fuck no. but i get why he did what he did. Vanya was extremely dangerous. She caused the apocalypse. she literally killed everyone on earth. these arent things we should brush over. (and yes i love vanya but that’s not what we’re talking about here) she very nearly killed Allison, and he doesn’t know her well enough to know if she’s here to genuinely apologize or finish the job. He just knows he has a responsibility not only to his family, but to the entire world. so he makes a tough decision. it hurts him too, look at his face. he doesnt want to do it but he doesnt think he has any other options.

about dismissing klaus: he has good reason (at least in his head). klaus is intoxicated constantly, and like i mentioned before, he doesnt realize its because of his powers. he just thinks klaus is trying to have a good time, and to be fair, klaus tries to hide his vulnerability (for the most part) so luther wouldnt know any better. in the end when he tells him to be a lookout? justified. the man is heavily suffering from withdrawal (or intoxicated, to luther’s knowledge? i cant remember if luther knows or not or whether he believes him for that matter) which is gonna impact his reaction time, and he doesnt have powers that can help anyway (as far as luther knows). yes, he was trained alongside them and allison is allowed to help despite also lacking usable powers; however, she is in a clearer state of mind and a lot healthier. She can physically fight. Klaus just kinda...jumps on people’s backs for the most part. Did you see her fight Cha Cha? *swoons* no but seriously, Allison is still highly skilled and in far better shape than Klaus. He’s a liability and staying outside is safer for everyone (again, as far as luther knows) all this being said, the way he treats klaus when hes drunk is Disgusting, Abhorrent, and Unacceptable. i understand that he doesnt realise his own power but thats inexcusable

luther x allison is gross, i agree HOWEVER they were not raised as adopted siblings, they were raised more closely akin to a boarding school. their dynamic had always been romantic; they never saw themselves as siblings. yes, i do find it very odd that literally everyone else considers each other siblings, but im just saying that their dynamic has always been different and technically it’s not really incestuous (im not condoning it, i hate it personally i just can see why its not the worst thing ever? its still pretty yikes though. also shipping literally any other characters IS fucking gross because the rest of them see each other as siblings and always have so gtfo with klaus x diego or klaus x ben g r o s s)

those are the main complaints ive seen (and voiced myself)... basically it all boils down to the facts that 1. he was abused, just like his siblings 2. he doesnt stop to think about how other people are thinking or feeling 3. hes just trying to do what is best for his family (and the world). I sympathize with monkey man. He deserved better. I really hope in the next season he’ll pause to consider things every once in a while (and that klaus will open up because he’s not useless but he’s not explaining to anyone why he does the things he does and he needs to!!) so yeah was this basically just me yelling at me from a week ago? yes. does anyone care? probably not but i felt it had to be done. anyway im done ranting for now....if i missed anything lemme know

#luther hargreeves #tua #umbrella academy #casey talks #analysis #if i need to clarify smth plz tell me #if youve got other qualms with luther i can try to explain his thought process #i just understand the man so much better now #also fricc you carina and jayden here this is what i mean #i try so dang hard to be open minded and sympathetic so i was real mad at myself for not giving luther a chance #hey #judging people without thinking about why they act the way they do? #yall are actually just luther XD

[go-diane-winchester]

Misha Collins cant keep track of his own lies.

Misha ''I was a homeless kid' Collins was interviewed by an art magazine, because apparently he is very artsy fartsy.  Whilst given the opportunity to speak about his supposedly favoritist subject: himself, Misha couldn't  remember all the fallacies he had spouted over the years.  I guess Misha figured his mostly underage, deranged fanbase might be too busy, furiously fingering themselves to badly written fanfiction, to actually read something from an intellectual source.  Something tells me that, just like in the mugging case, this reporter wasn't quite buying his lies.  Here are some of the highlights, with Misha's self-indulgent rambling in italics, and with my running commentary in bold [the interviewer is in bold italics]:

''Like most kids, I liked making things with my hands, and my mother helped facilitate this when I was pretty young. But I followed that impulse to an apprentice-level devotion. I would seek out woodworkers when I was 10 or 11, going into shops and learning how to use a lathe or – just asking. I grew up in western Massachusetts, and by the time I got into high school I was fully into this – just talking to people and learning things from them in person.''

So his hippy, drug addict mom who stashed pot down her youngest child's underwear for fear of being arrested, and who, for a short time, raised poor Misha in a car, honed his artistic skills when he was pretty young?  When?  When they were living in the woods?  And using a bowl of ice as a refrigerator?  So either his story of his childhood is greatly exaggerated or....yeah, that's all I got.  How gullible does he think people are?

Then in high school, I needed a job, so I started doing some manual labor.

So whilst at his elite private school, where there are rich dads and moms dropping off their darlings every morning, Misha chooses manual labor.  He likes to talk to people but he didn't speak to Mr and Mrs Moneybags?  He could have been a petty gopher in one of their companies and fared better.  After all, he needed a job.  I wonder why he chose ''manual labor''?  And why he chose to word it like that, instead of saying ''I became a carpenter's apprentice''.  I guess it sounds honorable.  That's is nothing dramatic about  saying that you flip burgers at McDs.  Saying that you work in a menial, underpaid job for a multimillion dollar company, does have a more dramatic feel to it. 

I built that barn on my mother’s property. Our house had burned down, so with the insurance proceeds, we built that and...

Wait, wasn't Misha's mom a pothead who lived in a car for some time with her two children?  Now, not only does she have property but she has the money to pay for insurance.  When did you live in the car, Misha?  When the house burnt down?  Why didn't you live in that house you showed footage of, on twitter?  Its a nice house, complete with Christmas stockings.  It doesn't quite gel with your underprivileged childhood narrative, but nice nonetheless.   

I worked a lot when I was in college, probably 30 hours a week most of the time. I did some handyman stuff, some carpentry stuff. After sophomore year, I took a year off. I interned at the [Clinton] White House, worked at NPR, became an EMT, started a summer camp for kids. It was a great year.

What is he?  A career whore?  So he was artsy fartsy, but he worked everywhere doing jobs that were unrelated to each other, instead of staying in his field of carpentry, and making money from that.  He got EMT certification.  Was it free?  Did he pay for it with his tuition fees?  What was the purpose of it, if making money for fees was of paramount importance?  That doesn't make sense, because if he was working 30 hour weeks, when did he have time to study?  The average work day is a tad longer, about 40 hours a week.  And if he was studying and working, when was Superman sleeping?  Why was he working so hard?  To put himself to college, don'tcha know.  Even though colleges offer student loans and don't accept their fees in installments.  And yet, he took time off for one year after sophomore.  Was it to make a lot of money for his tuition fees?  Nope, it was to become an EMT and start a summer camp for kids.  I guess summer camps are big business and you can pay off great debts if you start one.  Good to know.  His internment at the Whitehouse only lasted four months, and yet he has acquired all the knowledge there is to acquire, to become a political knowitall on twitter.  Sidenote:  Is it normal for internships at the Whitehouse to last, such a short time.  I am genuinely curious, because it doesn't sound right. 

This is where I think the interviewer started to sound like she was side-eyeing the wood working maestro and his yarns of tall tales.

After graduation you got into acting, and in 1999, you moved with Victoria to Los Angeles for film and television work. There, in 2001, you bought your first house. Tell us about it. You were a starving actor?

Yeah. Right after we bought it, our realtor said, “There’s a TV show that would like to shoot your house.” They brought this [house-hunting] couple through, and when we saw the episode, they had surveyed the house and were like, “We don’t want to touch this piece of s---.” It was a real wreck, had been seriously neglected. It was built in the 1920s, and built by people who weren’t carpenters, didn’t know what they were doing. It was built so poorly, and everything was sagging – the window frames, the eaves.

Can you believe that?  The starving actor bought a house.  Let that sink in.  He recognized that the house was built by non-carpenters [how was this building standing.  Twas a miracle, I tell you.]  And despite being a starving actor with a small amount of money, and a knowledge of carpentry, he bought a house that was badly built by non-carpenters.  So he knew he was buying a liability.  Why?

The kitchen floor you put in is beautiful. Yes, that’s gunstock, from a gun manufacturer in Northern California.

Mr Gun Free supporting the Gun manufacturing industry.  Man, this guy is a hypocrite. 

You lived in that first house for 11 years. Do you still own it? We rent it out to some lovely people who love it, so it’s good.

Fun fact:  Mr Humble Pie has two pieces of property.  And he is making money off of one, but he chooses to attend cons with the same torn T-shirts from years ago, or has to fleece off of Jensen's wardrobe and generosity, otherwise he would be doing his panels naked, poor thing.  Why doesn't he stop his cruises for a year, and use that money to buy decent threads?  One shirt can last a few years.  The lies are  embarrassing, but miraculously his minions believe him. 

On the way to this house, you became very successful with this hugely popular TV series. Life changed. Do you still manage to make time for handwork? 

Yeah. I’ve discovered that I really like working. Work can be respite for me, and switching gears is really key. Going from working on scripts to working with my hands is therapeutic, for sure. I am still managing to work with my hands. I was just doing some woodworking yesterday. I do a lot of cooking. That’s a big part of my life, and also I think a barometer of emotional health. When I’m not cooking, it’s a sign that I’m too stressed out and I’ve got to dial things back a little bit. I do a lot of canning. I put up 120 jars of blackberry jam this fall.

What an irony!  One of the greatest instigators of stress for his co-workers and their fans, gets stressed out himself.  Yeah, guilt can do that.  Plus, he likes quantifying accomplishments.  That is why Gish exists.  Quantity over quality. 

Which artists inspire you? I love Christo and Jeanne Claude, because of the mind-bending scale on which they’ve created things, like they’re rethinking what’s possible. I’m somebody who kind of likes to break rules, to bend rules when appropriate.

I could write a whole big post, on Misha's rule breaking and bending.  From stealing Whitehouse property [and bragging about it] to telling fans about the scratched line in the Crypt which got Jensen a barrage of abuse on Twitter.  The one thing that he spoke about that doesn't make sense is his story about almost getting arrested for reading a book on a building rooftop.  It makes no sense.  There is a portion of the story that is missing, I'm sure.  Misha is a great exaggerator.

Have you turned any Supernatural castmates on to craft? On a set, there’s tons of downtime, a lot of sitting and knitting and crocheting. And I have occasionally been in the mix there. Last year Jensen [Ackles], my co-star, walked up and saw me knitting, and he just looked at me and said, “Really?” But I could tell there was jealousy behind it, more than criticism. So I’ll teach him to knit, and it’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.

Will you look at that?  There are around 70 people on set at any given time.  Many of them must have seen Misha knitting.  And look who Misha decided to mention.  Was that a ''just in case, a nutty heller is reading this'' insertion?  No mention is made of Jared, because who cares about him, right?  Got to give the crowd what they want.  I am side eyeing the knitting claim myself, because I do knit and having seen a photo of him knitting, I can safely say that, that is not how you grasp at the yarn.  You knit with loose fingers because yarn is abrasive. 

The first big project we did with Random Acts was we built an orphanage and community center in Haiti. I would not have thought that was a tackle-able enterprise if I didn’t have a background in building.  Our biggest fundraising driver for the projects that we do – like building a school or an orphanage – is we bring folks down in groups of 25 or so to Haiti or to Nicaragua, and they help in the building process. We roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty.

Wow, he built the 500K orphanage with his own hands, but didn't think about lights for the children.  His response regarding the lights was ''it's Haiti and it takes three f*cking years to get an electrician''.  Wow, I am a third worlder too, but we have electricians.  How backwards is Haiti that he couldn't find a single electrician in the whole country, to light the place up for the poor orphans?  He couldn't squeeze in one electrician in the group of 25 or so.  Are there no philanthropic electricians in his circles?  My word, electricians are such selfish people, don't you think?  They don't want to roll up their sleeves and get their hands dirty.  Why couldn't he just pay for one instead of waiting three years?  Fun fact:  According to their website, the orphanage, aka, the Jacmel children's center houses only 15 children, but another page says there are 27 children living in the house.  They don't know how many children they are looking after.  But that is still a small amount.  So where did all these kids go?

Misha either staged this picture with school kids on an excursion or all those kids got adopted by the staggeringly high quantity of rich couples living in Haiti, right Misha?  SMH

This question made me smirk.  The interviewer had to know Misha has never been to public school.  Look how Mr Bleeding Heart answers the question.

As we know, art programs in K-12 public schools these days are in decline, especially shop class, manual arts. How can we nurture creativity in kids, and why is that important? When I was 9 years old, I had a paper route. One day my younger brother and I were collecting money, and Mr. Haigis answered the door. He started talking to us, and he discovered that our parents were separated, and we didn’t live with our father. In the 1960s, he had run a woodshop for little kids. He had stopped doing it because he got busy with his career. Now he was retired. These two boys show up delivering papers on his front stoop, and it just comes to him: “I’ve got to do the same thing for those kids.”

So Mr Haigis left all the poor, underprivileged children and decided to help these two boys who were going to an elite school?  Sounds legit.  What about public school children, Mr Haigis?  Don't you care about them?   

I was a starving actor for at least a decade.

Misha was a starving actor who worked on 24 projects before getting SPN, but he still managed to buy a house.  Fun fact:  he was an  associate producer on a docu-movie, ''Loot'' which won best documentary at the LA film festival.  His movie didn't need sock puppets to win this one.  Misha should produce more.  That way he wont be on screen, festering up the frame.  The less we see of him, the better. 

http://www.jacmelchildren.org/about/team/

http://www.jacmelchildren.org/

https://craftcouncil.org/magazine/article/builder-baker-angel-maker

#misha #jensen ackles #destiel #cockles #jenmish #jensen and misha #deancas #casdean #dean x castiel #castiel #cas #bi dean #dean is bi #dean and cas #jenmisheel #dean winchester #destiel headcanon #jdvm #misha collins #sam winchester #sam and dean #jensen and jared #wincest #supernatural #jared padalecki #padackles #performing dean #sabriel #sammy winchester #j2

[aridara]

Verifying a list of “hateful feminist quotes”. (From F to M)

Continuing my checking of whether these quotes are actually hateful opinions of feminists (instead of, say, non-hateful opinions, or opinions we can’t know where they came from, or fictional opinions made by fictional characters...) or not.

"I was, in reality, bred by my parents as my father's concubine... What we take for granted as the stability of family life may well depend on the sexual slavery of our children. What's more, this is a cynical arrangement our institutions have colluded to conceal.".

Sylvia Fraser Journalist

Unverifiable. Once again, the only places where this quote is cited is from this same copy-pasted “hateful feminist quotes” list, which I’ve shown (and will keep showing) over and over to be fucking dishonest, to say the least. By this point, NOBODY would give it the benefit of the doubt.

"All men are rapists and that's all they are"

Marilyn French, Authoress; later, advisoress to Al Gore's Presidential Campaign.

Fictional - it comes from "The Women’s Room" (1977). Specifically, Val (one of the fictional characters in the book) says it right after her daughter has been raped.

"All patriarchists exalt the home and family as sacred, demanding it remain inviolate from prying eyes. Men want privacy for their violations of women... All women learn in childhood that women as a sex are men's prey."

Marilyn French, The Women's Room, Summit Books, 1977

True, but not hateful (and not from "The Women's Room"). It's definitely a denunciation of the rigid gender roles that put the man as the family’s head, and the woman as the servant who has to serve the man - even sexually. Notice how she talks about “patriarchists”? Yeah, those are the people who want to enforce those gender roles.

"The media treat male assaults on women like rape, beating, and murder of wives and female lovers, or male incest with children, as individual aberrations...obscuring the fact that all male violence toward women is part of a concerted campaign."

Marilyn French, The Women's Room, Summit Books, 1977

True, but not hateful (and not from "The Women's Room"). She was talking about rape culture, or one aspect of it - specifically: the refusal to see violence against women as a systemic issue. It’s easier to blame social problems on single deranged individuals (which are “not me”) rather than admit that they’re social problems (and thus “also me”); but it doesn’t solve those problems. This is what French was denouncing.

"My feelings about men are the result of my experience. I have little sympathy for them. Like a Jew just released from Dachau, I watch the handsome young Nazi soldier fall writhing to the ground with a bullet in his stomach and I look briefly and walk on. I don't even need to shrug. I simply don't care. What he was, as a person, I mean, what his shames and yearnings were, simply don't matter."

Marilyn French, Author "The Women's Room"

Again: fictional. "The Women's Room" is a fictional book.

“As long as some men use physical force to subjugate females, all men need not. The knowledge that some men do suffices to threaten all women. He can beat or kill the woman he claims to love; he can rape women…he can sexually molest his daughters… THE VAST MAJORITY OF MEN IN THE WORLD DO ONE OR MORE OF THE ABOVE.”

- Marilyn French

True, but not hateful; it has been massively (I suspect deliberately) edited. Here's the full quote, with the parts that anti-feminists chopped away in bold:

"As long as some men use physical force to subjugate females, all men need not. The knowledge that some men do suffices to threaten all women. Beyond that, it is not necessary to beat up a woman to bear her down. A man can simply refuse to hire women in well-paid jobs, extract as much or more work from women than men but pay them less, or treat women disrespectfully at work or at home. He can fail to support a child he has engendered, demand the woman he lives with wait on him like a servant. He can beat or kill the woman he claims to love; he can rape women, whether mate, acquaintance, or stranger; he can rape or sexually molest his daughters, nieces, stepchildren, or the children of a woman he claims to love. THE VAST MAJORITY OF MEN IN THE WORLD DO ONE OR MORE OF THE ABOVE."

So, yeah. Anti-feminists forgot to include job discrimination, general disrespect, and treating your wife like a servant to the list; with their omission, they try to make French appear as if she was saying "most men are rapists, murderers, or beaters of women". Pretty fucking dishonest, to say the least.

"My own informal survey of adult women suggests that very few reach the age of twenty-one without suffering some form of male predation--incest, molestation, rape or attempted rape, beatings, and sometimes torture or imprisonment."

Marilyn French, The War Against Women, Ballantine Books, 1992, p. 195)

Unverifiable and not hateful. Given the massive bullshit that happened with the previous quote, I now suspect that anti-feminists attempted the same trick here - cutting away stuff like job discrimination/general disrespect/being treated like a servant.

"The proportion of men must be reduced to and maintained at approximately 10% of the human race."

Sally Miller Gearhart, in The Future - If There Is One - Is Female.

Huh, look at that: a true and actually hateful quote. Good job. Have a cookie.

"[Men are] freaks of nature... full of queer obsessions about fetishistic activities and fantasy goals."

Germaine Greer, The Whole Woman, Knopf, 1999

Unverifiable. While various sources report the quote to try and attack Greer, I cannot find any part of the quote in the "The Whole Woman" ebook. Maybe there is, and I just cannot see it because it's just a preview, but I'm very doubtful.

"If women are to effect a significant amelioration in their condition it seems obvious that they must refuse to marry."

Germaine Greer, The Female Eunuch, McGraw-Hill, 1971, p. 317)

Unverifiable - same as the above - and probably not hateful, given that this is, once again, about forcing women into heteronormative gender roles and marriages. Maybe the quote really exists in the "The Female Eunuch" ebook; but I can't find it.

"...men bash women because they enjoy it; they torture women as they might torture an animal or pull the wings off flies."

Germaine Greer, The Whole Woman, Knopf, 1999

Unverifiable - see the previous. However, there are a few quotes where Greer points out that some men torture women, and very probably enjoyed doing so.

"The man regards (woman) as a receptacle into which he has emptied his sperm, a kind of human spittoon."

Germaine Greer, The Female Eunuch, McGraw-Hill, 1971)

Once again: unverifiable. But it looks like Greer here is talking about the attitude of many men at the time.

"Probably the only place where a man can feel really secure is in a maximum security prison, except for the imminent threat of release."

Germaine Greer

True, but not hateful. Here's the original quote from 1970 (again, the bolded part is the one that anti-feminists cut out):

"Probably the only place where a man can feel really secure is in a maximum security prison, except for the imminent threat of release. The problem of recidivism ought to have shown young men like John Greenaway just what sort of a notion security is, but there is no indication that he would understand it. Security is when everything is settled, when nothing can happen to you; security is the denial of life. Human beings are better equipped to cope with disaster and hardship than they are with unvarying security, but as long as security is the highest value in a community they can have little opportunity to decide this for themselves."

This isn’t about whether men should be all thrown in prison or not. This is about how putting “security” above everything else means stripping any choice from your life - which would make it so that it couldn’t even be called “life” at all.

In an interview Germaine Greer (radical feminist, writer) was asked the question, "You were once quoted as saying your idea of the ideal man is a woman with a dick. Are you still that way inclined?" Greer first denied that she had said it, and then replied, "I have a great deal of difficulty with the idea of the ideal man. As far as I'm concerned, men are the product of a damaged gene. They pretend to be normal but what they're doing sitting there with benign smiles on their faces is they're manufacturing sperm. They do it all the time. They never stop. I mean, we women are more reasonable. We pop one follicle every 28 days, whereas they are producing 400 million sperm for each ejaculation, most of which don't take place anywhere near an ovum. I don't know that the ecosphere can tolerate it."

Germaine Greer At a Hilton Hotel literary lunch, promoting her book, The Change-Women, Aging and the Menopause, Knopf, 1992 from a news report dated 11/14/91)

Unverifiable. It should say “SUPPOSEDLY from a newsreport THAT NOBODY SEEMS TO BE ABLE TO FIND”. So, yet another unsourced quote.

Oh, and the “My ideal man is a woman with a dick” quote? ALSO unsourced.

"The nuclear family must be destroyed, and people must find better ways of living together…. Whatever its ultimate meaning, the breakup of families now is an objectively revolutionary process…. No woman should have to deny herself any opportunities because of her special responsibilities to her children…."

Linda Gordon in "Functions of the Family," WOMEN: A Journal of Liberation, Fall, 1969

True - this quote is actually a really existing quote. It’s also distinctly non-hateful of men. It’s distinctly angry at the social imposition of marriage and the nuclear family system, though - but remember: the wife was supposed to stay at home and obey her husband in everything, back in 1969.

"And if the professional rapist is to be separated from the average dominant heterosexual (male), it may be mainly a quantitative difference."

Susan Griffin

True, but not hateful. I’ve managed to track the quote. And guess what? It was a talk about how the social expectations of the time (this part was written in 1971) expected the woman to turn down sexual advances even if she desired them, because it was considered “unchaste” for a woman to desire sex; and expected the man to wear down the woman’s “reserves”, without checking whether the woman in question actually wanted the sex, or not. It the same part, Griffin explains how, *with this social system* (that she did NOT create, nor is she advocating for) the difference between “a man who wear down a woman’s reservations” and “a rapist” is simply in how much pressure they use to make the woman have sex with them.

“We live in a culture that condones and celebrates rape. Within a phallocentric, patriarchal state the rape of women by men is a ritual that daily perpetuates and maintains sexist oppression and exploitation. We cannot hope to transform “rape culture” without committing ourselves fully to resisting and eradicating patriarchy.”

–Bell Hooks, “Seduced by Violence No More,” in Stan, Adele ed. Debating Sexual Correctness (New York, 1995)

True, but not hateful. The book is specifically talking about rape culture - aka a culture that, even if it claims that rape is wrong, in practice it fails to adequately deal with rape, instead blaming women for getting raped. This, in turn, allows sexist men to oppress women with next to no consequences.

"When a woman reaches orgasm with a man she is only collaborating with the patriarchal system, eroticizing her own oppression..."

Sheila Jeffreys

Unverifiable. HOORAAY!

“In order to raise children with equality, we must take them away from families and communally raise them”

(Dr. Mary Jo Bane, feminist and assistant professor of education at Wellesley College, and associate director of the school’s Center for Research on Woman).

Unverifiable, and probably not hateful. For starters, the source for this quote is Lew Rockwell, which is an INCREDIBLY far-right-biased source.

For another, the quote sounds like part of an argument in favor of the communal parenting, which is an argument that has been pretty explored. Also, note how she refers to communal parenting - not to women-only parenting.

"I believe that women have a capacity for understanding and compassion which a man structurally does not have. He does not have it not because he cannot have it. He's just incapable of it."

Former US Congresswoman Barbara Jordan

Huh, look at that. This quote (it’s reported in a 1992 issue of Texas Monthly, but the actual quote doesn’t have a date) is actually true, and does sound hateful. Can someone check out the score? Because, at the time of this writing, I checked 42 quotes, only 2 (possibly 3) of which were verified to be true and actually hateful.

"Marriage has existed for the benefit of men and has been a legally sanctioned method of control over women.... Male society has sold us the idea of marriage.... Now we know it is the institution that has failed us and we must work to destroy it.... The end of the institution of marriage is a necessary condition for the liberation of women. Therefore, it is important for us to encourage women to leave their husbands and not to live individually with men."

Nancy Lehmann, Helen Sullinger, Declaration of Feminism, 1971

Unverifiable. Apparently there is a book titled "The document: a declaration of feminism" published in 1971; but there's no way to verify if that quote actually exists. And the link I provided is basically the only source of that book's existance - outside of the edited quote above, which is present only in anti-feminist websites.

There is also the "Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen", written by Olympe de Gouges in 1791. Coincidence? I have no idea. Maybe it is.

"Man-hating is everywhere, but everywhere it is twisted and transformed, disguised, tranquilized, and qualified. It coexists, never peacefully, with the love, desire, respect, and need women also feel for men. Always man-hating is shadowed by its milder, more diplomatic and doubtful twin, ambivalence."

Judith Levine

Maybe true, but there is no context. I can’t make heads or tails of what it actually means. It’s the same case as some of the Dworkin quotes - no indication of the work or the context it was taken from.

"I feel what they feel: man-hating, that volatile admixture of pity, contempt, disgust, envy, alienation, fear, and rage at men. It is hatred not only for the anonymous man who makes sucking noises on the street, not only for the rapist or the judge who acquits him, but for what the Greeks called philo-aphilos, 'hate in love,' for the men women share their lives with--husbands, lovers, friends, fathers, brothers, sons, coworkers."

Judith Levine, My Enemy, My love

Unverifiable. The only sources talking about this quote are anti-feminist ones.

"There are no boundaries between affectionate sex and slavery in (the male) world. Distinctions between pleasure and danger are academic; the dirty-laundrylist of 'sex acts'...includes rape, foot binding, fellatio, intercourse, auto eroticism, incest, anal intercourse, use and production of pornography, cunnilingus, sexual harassment, and murder."

Judith Levine; summarizing comment on the WAS document, (A southern Women's Writing Collective: Women Against Sex.)

The quote itself is unverifiable and not hateful, given that all of those acts have been (1) used by men against women, and (2) justified as “normal” sexuality by those same men.

However, the bit where the anti-feminist author of this list talks about “Women Against Sex” is false: the real title of the document Levine was talking about was "Sex resistance in heterosexual arrangements: Manifesto of the Southern Women’s Writing Collective". Because making up a false title to demonize feminists is acceptable behavior, am I right, anti-feminists? (# sarcasm)

"Men's sexuality is mean and violent, and men so powerful that they can 'reach WITHIN women to fuck/construct us from the inside out.' Satan-like, men possess women, making their wicked fantasies and desires women's own. A woman who has sex with a man, therefore, does so against her will, 'even if she does not feel forced."

Judith Levine

Slightly unverifiable - I can’t find neither a scan, nor the citation for the full Levine quote. What I did find was the book Levine was looking at - My Enemy, My Love (1993), a book that talks about “gender roles, the social definitions of masculinity and femininity, the culture’s assignment of certain exclusive traits to each biological sex, [which] have imprisoned us on either side of a divide”. Also: no mention about whether the women interviewed by Levine were feminists or not, and in particular, no mention of the context for the quote.

"All sex, even consensual sex between a married couple, is an act of violence perpetrated against a woman."

Catherine MacKinnon

False. The quote apparently comes from Playboy, Oct 1986; but it wasn’t written by MacKinnon, nor anyone was able to track the instance where she supposedly originally said/wrote that.

"You grow up with your father holding you down and covering your mouth so another man can make a horrible searing pain between your legs."

Catherine MacKinnon, Feminism Unmodified: Discourses of Life and Law – Sex and Violence: A Perspective, Harvard University Press, 1987

True, but out of context. From what I can understand, this is from yet another discussion about non-con pornography (“Only Words”, 1993); MacKinon wasn't talking about families in general.

What's with anti-feminists taking discussions about problematic and sexist porn and deciding that feminists were talking about everyday life? What, do anti-feminist believe that pornography is an accurate representation of real li-

Nevermind, let's move on...

"Feminism, Socialism, and Communism are one in the same, and Socialist/Communist government is the goal of feminism."

Catherine MacKinnon" Toward a Feminist Theory of the State (First Harvard University Press, 1989), p.10

False. The quote is completely absent from MacKinnon's book, or any of her books. Apparently, this is a slightly modified quote from "The Unhappy Marriage of Marxism and Feminism".

"In a patriarchal society, all heterosexual intercourse is rape because women, as a group, are not strong enough to give meaningful consent."

Catherine MacKinnon

Misattributed. The quote itself comes from "Professing Feminism", which wasn't written by MacKinnon, but by Daphne Patai and Noretta Koertge; they were talking about MacKinnon and Dworkin's opinions - they weren't quoting them. (And no, neither Dworkin nor MacKinnon believed that intercourse is rape.). The misattribution was caused by right-wing columnist Cal Thomas, who wrote an article about "Professing Feminism" and mistakenly attributed that quote to MacKinnon.

“The care of children ..is infinitely better left to the best trained practitioners of both sexes who have chosen it as a vocation…[This] would further undermine family structure while contributing to the freedom of women.”

–Kate Millet, Sexual Politics 178-179

Misattributed. Here, Millet isn't talking about his own beliefs; he's talking about Engels's. Specifically, he's talking about how the idea that "The woman is naturally the one best equipped to raise a child" has the effects of:

Put a limitation on the woman, but not the man. If the woman wants to, say, pursue a career, she's forced to deal with child-raising AND with pursuing the career; the man has to deal only with the latter, because society pressures the woman into doing the former.

It's inefficient, because you just decide that the woman is the one most capable of raising a kid, instead of looking at which person is the most capable.

"We can't destroy the inequities between men and women until we destroy marriage."

Robin Morgan.-From Sisterhood Is Powerful, (ed), 1970, p. 537

True, but not hateful. Again: “marriage” presupposed that the woman stayed at home and obeyed her husband in everything. I fail to see how being against the imposition of this kind of marriage/gender roles is hateful.

"I feel that 'man-hating' is an honourable and viable political act, that the oppressed have a right to class-hatred against the class that is oppressing them."

Robin Morgan.-former president of the National Organization for Women (NOW) and editor of MS magazine

True (1973). I also fail to see what’s wrong with “class-hatred”, aka being justifiably angry with the oppressing class while fighting against its privileges. I mean, I do understand that nobody shouldn’t oppress anyone else even if they were oppressed beforehand, but here we’re talking about expressing justified anger against an oppressive system, and wanting to dismantle it. What, is that illegal now?

"I claim that rape exists any time sexual intercourse occurs when it has not been initiated by the woman, out of her own genuine affection and desire."

Robin Morgan.

True, but not hateful. I fail to see where’s the problem with this quote. It’s basically the concept of “yes means yes” - you don’t have sex with anyone unless they want it. ...Oh, wait, now I see why anti-feminists have a problem with this quote.

"And let's put one lie to rest for all time: the lie that men are oppressed, too, by sexism--the lie that there can be such a thing as 'men's liberation groups.' Oppression is something that one group of people commits against another group, specifically because of a 'threatening' characteristic shared by the latter group--skin, color, sex or age, etc. The oppressors are indeed FUCKED UP by being masters, but those masters are not OPPRESSED. Any master has the alternative of divesting himself of sexism or racism--the oppressed have no alternative--for they have no power but to fight. In the long run, Women's Liberation will of course free men--but in the short run it's going to cost men a lot of privilege, which no one gives up willingly or easily. Sexism is NOT the fault of women--kill your fathers, not your mothers".

Robin Morgan.

True (1970), but not hateful. This shows a big miscommunication problem between MRAs and feminists. See, many feminists define sexism not as “acts of individual discrimination against a gender”, but as “an oppressive social system where one gender is treated as inferior”. By that logic, what MRAs claim is “sexism against men”, feminists call it "discrimination against men", but not "sexism against men", because women did NOT create this system where masculinity is put on a (very narrow) pedestal and femininity is derided. As Morgan put it:

"The oppressors are indeed FUCKED UP by being masters, but those masters are not OPPRESSED. Any master has the alternative of divesting himself of sexism or racism—the oppressed have no alternative—for they have no power but to fight. In the long run, Women’s Liberation will of course free men—but in the short run it’s going to cost men a lot of privilege, which no one gives up willingly or easily."

You can’t compare the situation of an oppressed class (who has to tear down the system biased against it) with that of the privileged class (who actually made the biased system in the first place and could fix it). And what Morgan is saying is correct. Systematic oppression divide society in a privileged group (which has a certain amounts of benefits that the oppressed do not have, and/or is exempt from various disadvantages that instead the oppressed do face) and an oppressed one. Dismantling such a system DOES damage the privileged group, because it takes away their privileges - privileges that they shouldn't have in the first place, and that are based on the oppression of marginalized groups.

“My white skin disgusts me. My passport disgusts me. They are the marks of an insufferable privilege bought at the price of others’ agony.”

-Robin Morgan

Not hateful. From the looks of it, here Morgan is talking about the effects of white colonialism and racism - specifically how they benefit white or white-passing people such as her. For example: being allowed to travel or emigrate wherever you want and be treated as a person, while non-white immigrants are by default believed to be violent criminals, murderers, and rapists.

#debunking antifeminism

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER TAILGATE PARTY PT 2 - 9/30/17: MY FRIEND DAHMER

Derf Backderf’s high school memoir about growing up alongside a neglected boy who would become one of the world’s most notorious murders is a landmark achievement in artistic acts of atonement. The indie comics creator, who I had previously dismissed as a standard sort of ‘90s free paper stalwart, produced something of such astonishing depth and sincerity with this book that I would never again think of him in that same dreary way. Let this piece of writing stand for my own act of atonement in being so wrong about artist--even if it arrives in the dubious guise of an angry rejection of Marc Meyers’ unworthy adaptation, if you can call it that, of My Friend Dahmer. 

It is possibly a delusion symptomatic of my enthusiasm for Derf’s book, that I feel I’ve rarely seen something so richly incorrect as Marc Meyers’ movie. Just like the graphic novel proves about Dahmer himself, the problems begin early, and not at all subtly. The title card is chased quickly by a sort of byline, claiming that the film is “Based on a True Story”. As the rest of the film attests, this is a highly dangerous assertion. First of all, the “My” in the book’s title refers to Derf himself, and the “Friend” is meant to be ironic, according to his confession that he was among the many peers and adults who could have and should have, but did not recognize Jeffrey Dahmer as a young man in dire need of help. The book’s contents present the facts as Derf lived them, in conjunction with bitterly sympathetic suppositions about Dahmer’s personal life, derived from post-prosecution reportage. So, a film based on My Friend Dahmer should be a film about the community that responded so inappropriately, or not at all, to the challenges presented by a traumatized young alcoholic whose downward spiral led to a criminal career the likes of which the world had never seen. Meyers’ adaptation, on the other hand, is scarcely about Derf or his gang of insensitive pranksters, or anyone else in Dahmer’s culpable periphery. It is about Dahmer in a plain and simple made for TV fashion--or it might be, if it weren’t peppered with broad, frankly fake characters and events that help the director shoehorn the skeleton of Derf’s book into an unnecessary Hollywood drama that seems designed to be more digestible to a lowest common denominator audience. Artistic license is all well and good when you’re telling, say, a thinly-veiled account of a true story for your own mythological purposes. However, when you’re talking about a real person, a really famous person, whose crimes occurred within living memory, and whose kin still live alongside those whose lives he destroyed; when you shoot your movie not only in that person’s home town but in his actual childhood home; when none of the names have been changed to protect the innocent...and still you invent straw characters and events just to make a buck on your more shallow version of things, how do you find the nerve to claim that your film is based on a true story? Whose story do you even mean?

The Q&A with Meyers at the end of this Fantastic Fest screening did nothing to ease my mind.

Disney alum Ross Lynch provides one of the film’s only bright lights as Jeffrey, hurtling toward high school graduation while his interior life is deteriorating unstoppably. In a futile bid to escape the brutality of his parents’ imploding marriage, the lonesome teenage Dahmer distracts himself with a little amateur bodybuilding, dissection of roadkill, and furtive spying on a beefy jogger who regularly passes his shady family home in the woods. It seems like the young man has a shot at normality when Derf & co. respond positively to his self-effacing clowning, but this shallow reward is no match for his classmates’ homophobia, the school’s collective failure to respond to his burgeoning alcoholism and substance abuse, and his inability to create any real intimacy within or without his dysfunctional family.

Where Derf’s telling is painfully plausible when he is only speculating on Dahmer’s private existence, Meyers seems unable to trust even the known facts--though he places too much faith in his cast. Dallas Roberts does his damnedest as Jeffrey’s desperate, disconnected father, to not enough effect in his brief, disjointed scenes. (And truly, almost every scene is disjointed and too brief, due to some strange editorial choices) Anne Heche, as his wife Joyce, does little to give the proceedings depth with her typical display of frantic dithering, which evidences no directorial interference whatsoever. (The director’s claim that she is “unpredictable” and “different in every scene” is corroborated nowhere on the screen) No one else stands out in the positive or the negative other than Lynch, who one can only assume is acting under his own power; when asked by an audience member how he cast Dahmer, Meyers simply responded that he focused on kids who resembled Dahmer facially, but who also...drumroll please...can you guess the other most important characteristic?...could be about as tall as Dahmer. Their being “talented” entered the conversation as a sort of footnote, without any further discussion of what sort of presence or attitude the star should carry.

Whatever energy the director could have devoted to coaching his cast seems to have gone instead into padding the raw facts of Derf’s account with insulting inventions designed to beat the main points to death. Maybe that’s just a crutch you need if, like Meyers, you are unable to translate the novel’s devastating evocation of the Dahmer home’s oppressive atmosphere, and you must instead fill in that glaring blank with impressions of your own parents’ comparatively ordinary divorce. Maybe you feel like your depiction of Dahmer lusting after the jogger, and his alienation from women, do not prove out the young murderer’s well-known homosexuality--so you force feed your audience a chipmunk-cheeked little fellow who bafflingly shouts out the details of an upcoming date with Dahmer at the very moment when bullies are about to gay bash him into a pulp. Maybe you feel like Dahmer’s sweaty admiration of the jogger, who he stalks with a baseball bat since this person very nearly became Dahmer’s first rape-murder, isn’t a potent enough detail--so you expand this historical figure into a well-liked small town doctor to whom Dahmer goes for a would-be erotic checkup. You can make Dahmer pointedly ask whether the guy does surgery, and then you can make the medical professional implausibly sneer “I’m not the type of person who wants to cut someone open,” just before he scoffs disgustedly at his patient for (presumably) getting an erection.

Most startling of all of Meyers’ inventions is the person of Figg, a deranged bully-cum-drug dealer. Derf’s brief recollection of this person is as a sort of ridiculous but potentially dangerous hulk who was, unfortunately, not ashamed to be seen with Dahmer. In Meyers’ film, he takes up a strange amount of screen time for reasons that only became clear at the Q&A. Within the film, this disturbed individual provides Dahmer with weed, which is all well and good, but he also scares everyone with freaky nazi jokes, cuts himself and drinks his own blood like the TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE hitchhiker, and scares the shit out of Dahmer by inviting him to play russian roulette in the woods. What this is supposed to help narratively is impossible to determine. However, Meyers stressed that Figg is played by Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins’ son Miles, and makes it abundantly clear that he happily went to great lengths to shoehorn the young man into the film. Evidently he was meant to be driving a car in some important scenes, though it was revealed that the New York-based actor does not drive. When this came up, the filmmakers wracked their brains to figure out how to keep him in the picture, only to come up with this peculiar DEER HUNTER riff. Meyers’ invitation for the audience to imagine a room full of producers puzzling over this problem, and then collectively cheering “THE DEER HUNTER!”, was not one that I could accept.

Another, in some ways more bizarre fib is committed in the context of one of the book’s most interesting recollections--the time that Jeffrey Dahmer, showing an amazing amount of pluck, weaseled himself and his friends into the office of Walter Mondale during a class field trip. The flow of this anecdote is interrupted to introduce a fantasy about Dahmer having to share a hotel room with a black varsity football player. I’d like to say here that Meyers insisted that he did absolutely no research outside of reading Derf’s novel--a dubious decision when your movie is about the real life of a real person, and when it so fails what the comic is about. To be fair, or something, Meyers said a number of troubling things about his process: That he “was just trying to make a movie set in the 70s”, that he just wanted it to be about a sort of average kid and not Dahmer the killer-to-be, that he “is not one to put any psychology on [Dahmer]”. That’s a mouthful of insistence on normality and digression and artistic license for someone whose only qualification for casting his star is that he looked just like Jeffrey Dahmer. In any case, one of the things that Meyers does to underline Dahmer’s factual homosexuality is to place him in this room with a young black athlete. In the film, Dahmer immediately begins making out-loud observations about the skin tone of different parts of the young man’s body, and asking questions about whether his entrails might be the same color as Dahmer’s. Now, anyone who knows a little bit about Dahmer knows that he almost exclusively killed athletic men of color--not so much the kinds of babyfaced white boys who are occasionally foisted upon Dahmer by Meyers. So, it’s unclear to me whether this choice is simply a bizarre accident, or an especially glib, distasteful way for Meyers to engage with his actual subject matter. In any case, it’s interruptive, uncomfortable, and difficult to understand. (For more on the grave subject of Dahmer’s impact on the poor black community in which he lived as an adult, please view the surprisingly excellent documentary THE JEFFREY DAHMER FILES)

While most of this sort of artifice seems aimed at forcing the Dahmer story to be more obvious and traditional, some of it is just unforgivable under any excuse. The film contains a sole scene that approaches something moving and truthful, in which a recently-graduated Derf happens upon Dahmer sauntering along the side of the road at night. In truth, this happened to another member of Derf’s coterie, but no matter. Derf hesitantly picks up the young man who he helped to embarrass and manipulate during their high school career, and drives him home. There they have a tense, earnestly sad exchange in the driveway, to the degree that any teenage boys are capable of having a direct conversation...and then it all goes down hill. In the film, Derf nervously joins Dahmer inside the latter’s empty house, only to back out at the last minute--AND RIGHTLY SO, BECAUSE DAHMER IS COMING AFTER HIM WITH A MURDER WEAPON! This choice is beyond despicable, as if there could be any good reason to accuse a dead man with living family of a murder that was never at risk of taking place. But, it’s also stranger than that: In Derf’s novel, it is revealed that while the friend passed a final innocent moment with Dahmer in the driveway, the fresh corpse of Dahmer’s first victim was certainly sitting either in Dahmer’s own car, or in the drainage ditch close by. Why would anyone sacrifice this powerful real life detail in favor of a cheap slasher movie scare that twists an already disturbing horror story in an unnecessary direction? I wish I had thought of this at the Q&A, but I was too busy fantasizing about asking Meyers why none of the living, suffering Dahmer family appeared in his copious list of acknowledgments at the end of the credits.

Last night I had no shortage of complaints to make, such that I could hardly sleep imagining insults to hurl. Now, I think I’ve finally emptied myself of all of the important ones. Meyer’s film is a mess, but please don’t let it prevent you from reading Derf’s moving and truthful novel, in which there is at least a payoff for all of the pain.

#derf backderf #my friend dahmer #marc meyers #ross lynch #adaptation #graphic novel #jeffrey dahmer #true crime #memoir #serial killer #blogtober

[zombierunfiction]

Season 1 Mission 17: Information Exchange

A few days had passed when Charlotte was helpping Maxine with a check up for the children that were in the dorm little Molly ran right up to her and all but demanded to be picked up.  Charlotte smiled picking up the little girl gently bouncing her.  

"You're very good with her."  Maxine said with a smile.

"Thanks... Would you believe these are the first children I've ever actually been around?"  Charlotte said as Molly snuggles into her.

Maxine chuckles.  "You can't tell."  She said whistfully.

"Did you and Paula want children?"  Charlotte asked softly.

Mazine seemed to tense up before looking at another child.  "We talked about it once.  We should focus on these children."  Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the sudden chill before she gently led an older girl to the seats where she could wait for Maxine to get to her.

A knock came to the door before a tall somewhat older man steps in.  He had ink black hair with bright blue eyes.  "I hate to interrupt you Doctor but I need Miss DeLoius here for a run."

"Uh sure McShell.  Go on Charlotte I can handle it here."  Maxine said as Charlotte gently set Molly down before walking out with the man.  

"I don't think I've seen you before."  Charlotte said looking at him.

"I keep to myself."  He said as he walked towards the runner's packs.  

Charlotte raised an eyebrow following him.  She grabbed her pack putting it on noticing that it was much heavier than normal.  "Do I already have stuff in here?"  Charlotte questioned.

"Sam will explaim everything."  He said as he put on a pack and headset.  Charlotte put on her headset looking at this McShell guy oddly.  Very tight lipped.  She understood that was normal in the military but Sam had either come to get her personally or Janine came to get her if it was a confidential mission.

They made their way to the gate as Sam came onto the headsets.  "Okay Runner Five are you there?"  

"Yeah I'm here but can someone explain to me what's going on?"  Charlotte questioned as they took off after the gate opened.

"Oh, well, sorry for the secrecy but this is a special little assignment for you today.  Nothing to taxing but pretty damn important.  You're taking our most valuable supplies to Red Settlement.  So damn valuable, we send two of you to do it.  Say hello, to Chris McShell, Runner Ten!"  Sam says enthusiasticly. "Hello."  Chris said softly.

"We've met..." Charlotte said

"... Yeah, he's quiet.  But he knows what he's doing.  Go on, tell Runner Five how many zombies you've killed, Runner Ten."  Sam said with a grin.

"I'd rather not talk about it."  Chris said as they ran down the path.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah - just say the number."  Sam said excitedly.

"It's just that I noticed certain patterns in their movement, so I was able to position myself in such a way, that I could-"  

"Three hundred and Eighty-three!  Three hundred and eighty-three confirmed kills!"  Sam said happily as Charlotte looked over at him.  That was a lot of zombies.  

That was more zombies than she had even seen!  

"Three hundred and eighty-seven, actually.  Last night, -"  Chris started before Sam jumpped in like a deranged fan.

"He's a machine.  Total goddamn legend.  So you're in very safe hands today, Five, with our extremely valuable cargo.  Now, it's not diamonds, not gold, not even guns or fueld.  What is it Chris?"  Sam asked with a grin.

Chris sighed softly.  "It's five Pandora Haze brand USB 2.0 2 TB hard drives-"

"It's knowledge, Runner Five, knowledge!  We're doing a swap with Red Settlement.  No internet anymore.  Knowledge is the most valuable thing we have.  We have confirmation from Red Settlement that they've sent a runner out to meet you.  This is how we do these swaps.  No camp risks covering more than half the distance."  Sam said as they continued to run.

"You know, in terms of zombie behavior, that doesn't really make sense, because my research-"  Chris started before Sam once again interrupted him.

"Because what?  Because you don't get to kill enough of them, you big zombie killer?"  Sam said with a chuckle.

"Sam stop interrupting him."  Charlotte said with a serious tone.

"Sorry... it's just I'm so impressed by him..."  Sam said sheepishly.

"Because my research indicates that zombies can detect when a group of humans are heading for the same area.  It's a sort of herd instinct.  They swarm together, and they can tell when we're swarming, too."  Chris said sending a grateful smile at Charlotte.

"So is that why you left New Canton, then?  Too many people swarming together?  Not enough opportunity for the zombie-killing action?"

"Sam..."  Chris sighs softly.  "I left New Canton because they wouldn't listen to reason, and wouldn't let me conduct my research.  That's all.  My research is all I've got left..."  

"Yeah, I know... I'm sorry man... I just got carried away with all the excitement!"  Sam laughs softly.  "the thing is, Five, Runner Ten is sort of a genius!"  

"Really?"  Charlotte asked as she ducked through a low branch.

"Not really.  What i've done is really very simple.  Before the outbreak, I was a maths teacher.  Statistics, mostly.  I started out trying to do some statistical analysis of zombie movements, when my wife..."  Chris stopped before he took a deep breath.  "Nothing happened to me worse than to anyone else.  My wife was eaten on our front lawn, and out daughter... she's ten, she was uh,  she'd been on a scout camping trip.  Couldn't raise them by phone.  I still don't know what happened to her."  

Charlotte ran along side of him.  "She might still be alive."  She said trying to be reassuring.

"It's not a worse story than average... statistically."  Chris said softly

"Um... guys.  You've picked up three zoms.  Better pick up the pace." Sam warned as Charlotte and Chris sped up heading down a dirt road.  After a while the sound of the zombie groans got louder.  

"Hmm... two more.  Are we transporting anything else today, Sam?  Any meat in the packs?  My research shows that they do seem to hone in on meat smells, even though they don't eat it."  Chris questioned.

"No.  Here, let me have a look at my list.  Janine left me a manifest here."  Sam rustles through papers before settling on it.  "Yeah, five hard drives, containing what we think is a fairly complete version of Wikipedia, maps of most of Europe, five hundred survivalist books, the major canon of Western literature, music, movies, kids TV - they have a lot of kids at Red Settlement - and uh... ah!" Sam laughs.  "The whole Doctor Who from 1963 to the point whent he entire cast was eaten by zombies.  That'll keep Red Settlement going."

"Do we still have a copy of that?  I liked Christopher Eccleston."  Charlotte said surprised she didn't think of it sooner.

Sam was silent for a moment.  "Y-you like Doctor Who?"

"Well I only saw the 9th incarnation.  Days off base were boring when Amir was working so I watched it."  Charlotte said offhandedly.

"I think I love you."  Sam said with a chuckle.

"Good to know the feeling is mutual."  Charlotte said with a giggle.

"Anything else Sam?"  Chris said going back to the subject at hand.

"Oh um... and one encryption key.  Those do something important, but I've never quite worked out what."  Sam said.

"Only way for us to communicate securely.  Run to another settlement, bring the security key on a piece of paper." Chris said.

"So nothing but paper and hard drives in the bags, though that shouldn't be attracting the zoms."  Charlotte said as she dodges a bush and a crawler.

"But here they are.  Another one, coming from the left.  There's critical mass, you know.  Pack of ten, twelve zombies will automatically start to grow because they moan and attract others.  This is, um... keep up the pace, Five."  Chris said as Charlotte nodded running after him.

"Okay, guys, you're getting close to the meet with the Red Settlement runner."  Sam said as he looked over the cameras.

"We're trailing a loose pack of ten zoms, Sam.  We can't bring those with us."  Chris said as Charlotte looked back seeing them still shambling after them.

"Well, you better kill them all, then Zombie Killer!"  Sam said excitably.

Charlotte rolled her eyes as Chris sighed.  "That's not what I-!  Look, I just know how to herd them that's all."

"So, you know, work your magic!"  

"There's no magic, just science!"  Chris shouts as Charlotte looks around.  

"Boys just calm down for a moment.  We can't keep running from them forever.  Chris... what does your research say?"  Charlotte said trying to relax the tension.

"Um... hm... okay, Five, here's the thing to know about zombies: they have trouble with decision-making and prioritization.  Unlike other carnivores, they don't have the instinct to head for the weakest or slowest, they just go for whoever's nearest.  And if two prey are equal distances, they get confused.  So, see those buildings we're coming to, with a narrow passageway between them?  You keep running at exactly the pace you are, and I'll keep going at exactly the same pace, but heading away from you.    They'll slow down and start to funnel straight forward, through that narrow gap.  Ready?"  Chris asked as Charlotte nodded.  "Go!"  

Charlotte suddenly turned heading for the buildings as fast as she could.  Chris pulled out what looked like a hockey stick from under his pack and swung at one of the zombies as Charlotte pulled out her axe and took off the head of several as well.  

Soon they were back on track.

Save for the spaz fest Sam was going through.  

"Man, that was amazing!  The way they just kept going forward because they couldn't decide which one to head for!  Incredible!  And so you could get them individually, and they kept coming forward, because there was one of you on either side, and the way you took them all down, one after the other - BAM! Axe to the head, BAM!  Hockeu stick to the cranium, BAM!"

"It's just application of the scientific method."  Chris said as they continued to run.

"The awesome method!"  Sam cries out.

Charlotte shook her head with a chuckle.  "How far are we from the Red Settlement runner?"

"Only about a K.  You'll make it easily.  I can see why you wanted to leave New Canton now.  If they didn't let you work on your research, they were denying the awesome..."  Sam sighs happily.  "Teach me everything you know... Be my sensei?"  

Chris chuckles softly.  "Sure.  That wasn't the only reason I left, though."

Charlotte continues to run with him.  "What was the other reason?"

"They thought I'd done enough research, and started asking whether I could make zombies target attacks on other humans."  Chris said as Charlotte's eyes widen.

"I, uh...."  Sam breathed as a young man waved at them wearing a red hat and backpack running towards them.

"Oh, here's the Red Settlement runner now.  Get your back pack, Five, and we'll make that swap.  Good day's work, everyone."  Chris said as Charlotte unbuckled the pack and handed it to the runner who took off his pack and handed it to Charlotte.  They both reattached the bags gave each other quick nods before they took off back towards Abel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

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Season 1 Beginning

#zombie #zombies run #zombiesrun #zombierunapp #run #runner 5 #runner five #runnerfive #runner5 #fanfiction #fanfic

[linoondles]

My Favorite Quotes, To Be Updated As More Come To Mind

“I've come up with a set of rules that describe our reactions to technologies: 1. Anything that is in the world when you’re born is normal and ordinary and is just a natural part of the way the world works. 2. Anything that's invented between when you’re fifteen and thirty-five is new and exciting and revolutionary and you can probably get a career in it. 3. Anything invented after you're thirty-five is against the natural order of things.” ― Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt

“There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.

There is another theory which states that this has already happened." — Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

“It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.” — Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, Good Omens

“The story so far: In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” — Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

“A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.” ― Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless

“God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.” — Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, Good Omens

“The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.” ― Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt

“Let's think the unthinkable, let's do the undoable. Let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all." ― Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency

“It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.” ― Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.” — Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt

“For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much—the wheel, New York, wars and so on—whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons.” — Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

#text post #quote post #fizz's big quote post #its a brand queue day