#'it was a hell worse than anything I could've ever imagined!'

[orphanedwolfandfriends]

I'm cracking up that Frieza's experience in Hell was being in a parody of a kid's show.

[itneverendshere]

it's all you're good for, right? - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

rafe knew you wouldn’t take his disrespect lightly.

you never did.  

he’d expected you to blow up the second he pulled that ignoring shit at the dinning. he was ready for it—your texts coming in hot, maybe you showing up at his house, ready to tear into him like you always did when he pushed too far. he'd never say it out loud, but a part of him almost liked it, the way you’d get all fired up, spitting mad. it was hot.

but you didn’t call. not a single text. you didn’t show up to the party that weekend, and when he tried to hit you up, just looking for a booty call—because fuck, he was so hard thinking about you—it went straight to voicemail. he stared at his phone like an idiot, calling again. blocked.

you? block him? nah, that wasn’t supposed to happen. rafe was the one with the power here, or at least, that’s how it used to be. it was always this push and pull, but he was the one pulling the strings, right? no fucking pogue was ever going to order him around. right?

wrong. the next weekend rolls around, and there you are at one of his parties, looking good as ever, laughing with your friends like nothing happened. and still, not even a glance his way. for two weeks now, you’ve been completely ignoring him, and it’s starting to get under his skin. more than it should.

he watches you from across the yard like a fucking creep, sipping his drink and trying to act like he doesn’t give a fuck, but inside, he’s low-key losing it. he half-expected you to walk right up to him and give him hell like you always do. but no, you’re just... doing your own thing. 

but what’s really making his head spin is what you're wearing. the outfit is pure trouble—skin-tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. a barely-there black mini skirt, riding up just enough to make his jaw clench, paired with a tiny top that’s more like a bralette than an actual shirt. it’s low-cut and clings to your curves, thin straps barely holding it in place, and the way it hugs your body?

yeah, he’s fucked. the way the skirt moves when you walk, teasing just enough thigh? it’s like you knew he’d be watching.

he hates how much it turns him on.

every guy at the party notices. he can see the way their eyes follow you as you move through the crowd, laughing, like you don’t even care. but it’s the way you’re ignoring him that’s really pushing him to the edge. normally, rafe loves the attention despite the look of disgust he always greets you with when you show up. loves knowing you’re secretly going to end up in his bed. but tonight? he’s not so sure and it’s killing him.

by the time he corners you, all he can think about is tearing that outfit off. the silent treatment? that shit was way worse than anything you could've said. 

“alrigh’, i get it,” he starts, throwing his hands up like he’s already done with this conversation. “jesus christ.”

you just blink up at him, completely unfazed, like he’s not even worth a reaction. his words might as well be bouncing off a wall. the fact that you’re standing there looking so fucking good, and acting like he doesn’t even exist, is messing with his head more than anything you could’ve said.

he’s pissed, yeah, but more than that, he’s desperate. desperate for a reaction. for anything. but you just brush past him, your body touching his for the briefest second, like you’re doing it on purpose just to make him snap.

rafe stands there for a second, blinking in disbelief. did you just really blow him off like that?

before he even realizes it, he's following after you, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed.

“are you serious right now?” he hisses when he catches up, grabbing your wrist lightly but firm enough to make you stop. the emotion in his voice is undeniable, and everyone nearby is pretending not to watch the little scene. “you're really just gonna walk past me like that?”

karma’s a bitch.

you finally turn to him, but the look in your eyes isn’t anger—it’s indifference. that cold, detached stare that fucks with his head more than any of the shouting matches you’ve had in the past. you pull your wrist free with ease, like his grip is nothing.

“’m over it,” you say coolly, like you’ve already moved on from the whole thing, “whatever this is? it’s not worth my time.”

that does it.

he’s used to the back and forth, the fire between you, but this, you acting like you don’t care at all—it’s new, and it pisses him off more than he thought possible. he steps closer, dropping his voice lower so no one else can hear.

“bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowing. “you’re pissed, i get it. but don’t act like you’re done with me. you aren’t.”

the smirk that curls on your lips is almost cruel.

“watch me.”

you turn and walk away, leaving rafe standing there. he knows he should let it go, but every time he tries to convince himself of that, the way your body looks in that outfit, the way you shut him down so easily, keeps replaying in his head.

and instead of walking away, he’s right back where he started, chasing after you like he can’t stand the idea of not having you anymore.

before you even get two steps away, he snaps.

his patience has run out, and all that pent-up frustration? yeah, it’s got him seeing red. he doesn’t even think about it—just moves. his hand wraps around your arm, and in one swift motion, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder.

“what the fuck, rafe!” you shout, your fists pounding on his muscular back, but he doesn’t stop. eyes burning, jaw clenched—he doesn’t give a shit who’s watching. not his friends, not anyone at the party. right now? he’s too pissed off and turned on to think straight. 

you wriggle in his grip, your legs kicking, but he holds you tight, marching through the party like it’s no big deal, even though everyone’s definitely staring. he’ll deal with the fallout later.

“put me down!” you’re practically growling, and maybe under any other circumstances, he would’ve listened. but not tonight. tonight, he’s done playing nice, done pretending like he’s not obsessed with you or your body, done trying to act like he’s got control over this situation when clearly, you’re the one pulling all the strings.

his grip on you is tight, and possessive, and you’re too furious to care about how turned on you secretly are. he doesn’t stop until he reaches his room, kicking the door shut behind him with one solid thud. the sound of the lock clicking is loud in the tense silence. then, he throws you onto his bed, like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.

you bounce once, staring at him with wide eyes.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, sitting up on the bed, glaring at him.

he’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair, wild-eyed, like he’s trying to calm himself down but can’t. he turns to you, his face twisted in frustration, like he’s been holding something in for way too long. and when he speaks, his voice cracks just enough to show how on edge he really is.

“you!” he explodes, pointing at you like you're the only thing in the room. “you’re what’s wrong with me!”

his pacing slows down, and suddenly he stops. he turns back to you, both his hands shooting up to his temples, fingers pressing into his head.

“you get in my fucking head,” he admits through gritted teeth, jabbing his fingers into his temples like he’s blaming you for every thought he's had for weeks. “i can’t think straight because of you. every fucking time, you crawl into my head and just—won’t—leave.”

instead of letting his little meltdown get to you, you lean back on your hands, with a bratty scoff. “how is that my fucking problem?” you snap, crossing your arms like you couldn’t care less about his breakdown. “that’s on you, not me. maybe you should try, i don’t know, leaving me alone.”

rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight, “you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping closer, closing the gap between you two, his presence almost suffocating. “you think you can just sit there and act like none of this is your fault?”

you give him a fake sweet smile, leaning forward just enough to be in his face, “maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me in the first place, hmm? god forbid your friends find out you’ve been slumming it with a pogue.”

it’s the fake docility in your smile that makes him want to break something. he steps even closer, his breath hot and heavy as his eyes lock onto yours, blue and furious.

"that’s what this is?" His voice is low, almost a growl. “you seriously don’t get it, do you?" he leans in, his face inches from yours, his expression almost daring you to keep pushing. "this—whatever the fuck this is between us—this isn’t about them. it’s about you." his hand shoots out, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into from the beginning."

you yank your chin free, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's getting to you. “right. you ignoring me at the dinner? guess i was supposed to just sit there and take it, huh? maybe you wanted me to be a good little bitch and not make any noise.” 

you might be pissed, but you're not just angry—you're hurt, and that fucks with his head more than he cares to admit.

rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “what the fuck do you want from me? huh? you want me to call you my girlfriend? you want me to fucking introduce you like this is some kind of relationship? be fucking serious.”

"be fucking serious?" you repeat, "you gave me a 200$ tip, you fucking asshole!" you shove him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. “like ’m some kind of fucking whore!”

rafe's eyes widen as he stumbles back a step, “wait—what? no, no, no. that’s not what it meant.”

you glare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “of course, it fucking was!” you shout, shoving him again, harder this time. “what else would it mean, huh? you throw money at me like it’s supposed to make everything okay, like ’m some kind of... some kind of pogue you can pay off and keep quiet.”

he looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “that’s not—fuck, that’s not what i meant. i wasn’t thinking about it like that, okay? i was trying to help you!" he blurts out, his tone defensive, like he can’t believe you’re twisting his intentions into something they weren’t.

you laugh, but it’s sharp, biting. “help me?” you stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “oh, please. shut the fuck up. why would you ever want to help me, rafe? be real.” he tries to speak, but before he can you’re already stepping back. “if you want to fuck me, just get on with it. i need to leave. so, make it quick.”

what?

“is that what you think this is?” he doesn’t move to touch you, but the tension is strong enough to feel suffocating. “you think ’m just here to—”

“to fuck me? yeah. that’s what this has always been about,” you cut him off, “and you know what? it’s okay. let’s not drag it out. do what you do best—take what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s not ready to admit that this feels more than just a hookup. he’s not sure if he will ever get there. rafe’s chest heaves as he stares at you. he’s done trying to explain himself. 

“fine,” he snaps, stepping closer until his chest is almost brushing yours. “if that’s what you want.” 

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t back down. not when you're this annoyed. “yeah, it is. stop wasting my time.”

in one swift motion, rafe pulls you to him by the waist, with his usual roughness that makes you drip between your thighs. his lips claim yours with a bruising force. it’s not soft or sweet—this is raw, messy, all tongue and teeth. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, your ass, pulling you flush against him like he can’t have any space between you. you’re both moving with frantic, desperate eagerness, like this is less about desire and more about proving a point.

“is this what you want?” rafe snarls against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank your top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. “to get fucked stupid and leave? that it?”

you let out a breathless laugh, but it’s overflowing with venom. “that’s all you’re good for, right?”

so much for making peace.

TAGLIST: @drewstarkeys-world @maibelitaaura @maybankslover @jkrafe @willowpains

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: ��sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

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[radioisntdead]

Could I request how Velvette, Rosie, and /or Verosika operate while under the effects of a love potion? Not that kind, a more innocent kind where they become hell-bent on finding and kissing their crush/partner repeatedly until it wears off. (reader is conveniently that crush and tries to run away assuming they're trying to kill them or something)

Love potions are such a neat subject!

Warnings: Implied drugging or outrightly stated in Verosika's part, they were given a love potion unless they chugged that shit themselves they were likely given it unconsensually, OOC behavior, Verosika's part is pretty short :< because this is my first time writing anything for her.

Velvette

Firstly it's a concerning matter because WHO got close enough to snuck the love potion in??

I'm assuming what was used was a failed or scrapped batch of the 'love potion' sold by her and Valentino otherwise the effects could've been worse, far, far worse.

Now I'm imagining you're Velvette's assistant, you waltz into work one day and suddenly your boss is charging at you full force, your boss who's an overlord and likely has killed before? And If she hasn't killed before the other two vees certainly have.

You are RUNNING AS FAST AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN, FUCK THIS JOB YOU WANT TO LIVE.

Her floor is a decent way away from the exit so it turns into Velvette chasing you down, for her it's like chasing a running puppy in a field of Valentine merchandise, for you it's like getting chased down by a slasher.

She has you like THIS.

Do you have a fear of dolls?? Specifically haunted dolls?? Yeah this is your biggest nightmare come true because she's pretty much one.

You're seen running and hiding throughout the Vee tower trying to make it out, it's a lot harder to chase you throughout the pride ring.

It's the worst game of hide and seek you've ever played in your life.

She's calling you out by name, using 'Pspspspssp' and your shaking underneath some random desk.

Eventually you try to make a run for the door, unfortunately you never make it out as she tackles you down.

And you.... Don't die???

She just YOINKS you up bridal style and carries you to somewhere more private.

And there she just dotes on you, you're getting dressed up in couple fits, she's taking pictures of the two of you, planning to take you out to places and placing kisses on your cheek.

She doesn't let you out of her eyesight, except to use the bathroom or whatever but other than that you are attached at the hip.

She cancels her entire schedule to hang out with you, you watch a couple of movies, she snuggles you with kisses and other wholesome couple shenanigans.

You don't mind because you have feelings for her but it's concerning because why is she acting like this??

You eventually figure out why she's acting off, mostly, because last you checked her eyes are white, not a baby pink.

You figure she has something in her system, you don't know what but it's definitely something.

you gently nudge her to drink more water hoping to flush whatever it is out quicker.

She doesn't return to normal until the next day, you wake up next to her because she wouldn't let you leave to go to your own home and sleep in your own bed.

Her eyes are back to being white and you're glad! But you are also terrified that she doesn't remember jackshit and start rambling trying to explain why you're there, she tells you it's too early for this shit and to go back to sleep.

Like she plops back in her spot and pulls you into her arms again so a win is a win I guess.

Rosie

She got slipped the love potion while you were visiting, you go to beef with Susan for one second and you come back to Rosie being a lot more lovey-dovey towards you.

Unlike the love potion Velvette got, any side effects this one has aren't visible, mostly because Rosie's eyes are pitch black.

She's gently trying to feed you treats, taking any chance she can get to touch you in some way, serenading you with love songs etc etc

You think it's some type of weird Cannibal luring system and like any other sane person, you DO NOT WANT TO BE TURNED INTO A SNACK, forbid you get eaten by SUSAN, you do not LIKE Susan imagine becoming her meal?? Hell no! Also imagine getting cooked by your own crush???

That's worse than any type of rejection.

Unless you have some weird fucked up kink in that case uh, you do you I guess.

You try to sneak away trying to politely excuse yourself but she finds a way to keep you there longer.

"Oh! Well it seems I gotta go, I uh, gotta walk my python!"

"Well before you go you must try this new tea I was gifted, it's just marvelous, surely you have time for one cup?"

It's not just one cup.

Eventually she gets you away from the view of other cannibals and you assume she's about to turn you into sinner-sushi or maybe saute you.

Do you think she'll let you choose how you're served???

To your complete and utter surprise she's kissing your hand and just being very lovey dovey.

She's putting on music and dancing with you

You're severely confused but you're not complaining, your feelings are mutual??? YIPPPE

You lean into it returning the lovey dovey behavior and dancing until your legs ache so much that they feel like they'll collapse beneath you.

Same as Velvette the love potion wears off the next morning.

You two figure out what happened after talking and you're concerned because who the fuck decided it was a good idea to slip an overlord a love potion, and disappointed because, none of this was real?? Just the effects of the love potion.

You go to apologize to her and she's just confused like

"What are you apologizing for??"

"You were under the effects of a love potion and I unwittingly took advantage of that so I-"

"Darling, you know that I do love you?"

"YOU WHAT!?!"

Verosika Mayday

Uh oh! Some piece of shit couldn't take a rejection!!

Thankfully the love potion they bought didn't work the way they thought.

"The minute she opens her eyes she'll fall in love with me!!"

"Didn't I tell you to fuck off, you fucking creep?! Anyways, where's [Name]??"

Girlypop just goes to find wherever you wandered off to, I'm imagining this takes place at a party or something.

I feel like she's decently affectionate to her friends so her popping up and swinging her arm over you was normal, what WASN'T normal was her kissing your cheeks more then once and wrapping her tail around you.

Just causally.

You're concerned that she got drugged which she did so you get the two of you out of there ASAP.

It was pretty easy considering she was attached to you, her tail was little wrapped around you like a rope.

Was it nice having your crush show you such affection? Yes but it WASN'T nice under these circumstances.

You're over here trying to get her to puke or empty her stomach to see if that'll help, or just trying to flush out whatever's making her so affectionate.

You eventually give up and just plop on the couch and watch whatever the fuck is on TV with her, just very wholesome cuddles with the occasional smooch from her.

Like the other two it wears off by the morning, unlike the other two she's hung over ON TOP of the whole move potion thing so uh, hope you didn't have any plans today because she's not letting you leave, after all isn't it rude to leave your girlfriend alone when she's recovering from a hangover?? Or something I don't know I've never been drunk

GOOD EVENING FOLKS!! I DO HOPE YOU ENJOYED THESE HEADCANONS!!

Remember if you go to parties,bars or anywhere don't leave your drink unattended or uncovered!! Better be safe then sorry.

Anyways I lowkey want Verosika's haircut, not the bangs but just like the fluffy bits on the sides? It's so pretty.

I'm sleepy, I've been sleeping a lot lately that's a little concerning but bleh.

As always thank you for tunin' on in and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night!!

Psst!!! Join our discord

[smolestbrein]

Look, this is going to be sorta a personal post, not exactly coherent but hey, why not.

A big thing holding back the film is the jarring comedy. Like I really can't overstate how utterly annoying Bumblebee is. And it even ruins Shockwave be deciding that he's also just another part of the comedy troupe. The comedy will just randomly decide to ruin moments in ways I really can't stress hard enough.

Like imagine, if, just for a moment that when Shockwave threatens Orion over him wanting the High Guard's help, instead of having the whole thing be settled by Elita's comedy, have be settled in a way that has more tension? Like I know most will tell me "how would you have done it hmm😏" but while I can't exactly solve that, it's doesn't detract from the fact that the comedy robs scenes that could've had moments with more energy to them.

There's just stuff like Bee's lines in the cave after the reveal, honestly most of Bee's scenes feel like genuine filler for the runtime (did we fucking need him to say Badassatron 3 times to Elita?). The cutoff at the moment they escape the cave is also another example. It really does feel like the film is bizarrely insecure to the point of wanting to have laughs for every few moments. It's even worse when the story really does just brush aside how Bumblebee was not only clearly not mentally well from being isolated for so long, but what could've been a subplot about his mental decay is just a punchline. The few times he's an actual character are so little and they happen externally with no real character work other than "thunder hit the writers as to not fuck this scene up".

A less annoying one is Elita-1, who's just … there. While Bumblebee is worse for having most of his scenes be just comedy, Elita is someone I genuinely struggle to understand why she was there in the first place.

Her dynamic with Orion really should've been an opposite to D-16, an easier way to infer how D is clearly not as friendly as he seemed. But instead Elita's just kind of a dick? Like that's really the problem, she's antagonistic to them, but it's not really meaningful? Like her being an asshole is never really forming into a dynamic with the rest. Like you could've had D or Orion at least mention "hey we saved Jazz" either angrily or sarcastically or anything. But instead her presence in the story feels like it's there for obligational reasons than anything really meaningful. Even her speech with Orion is filled with jokes for some reason, like how hard is it to just have her say:

"Orion, despite my misgiving, you're the guy that wants to see the bright future that everyone else doesn't, you're willing to do more in this shithole than I'll ever be. So c'mon! Let's do this." And hell, more mentions to Jazz that isn't just another trophy for Orion? Like that is what kinda ticked me off. Jazz is just this point in a basket for Orion, that never comes up again until Elita mentions him. Imagine this kind of scene:

D-16: Angry tone Ruin your life? Sorry you're too obsessed over promotions over Jazz's life, but you don't get to boss us around!

Orion: Hey! If she didn't toss us the thingy-

Elita-1: Thingy?

Orion: Quickly turns to Elita-1 Please. Quickly snaps back to D-16 All three of us would've died. Heavy sigh Calm down, let's try to settle this peacefully.

That would actually allow a bit more of a connection within the group.

Also Elita's bond with Orion feels underbaked? Like that's the closest word I got. It's just that for all intents and purposes they don't feel like they ever connected and Elita feels almost non-existent. Like I don't think her tossing that pillar ever means much within the story's beats. Like you can do things, factually relevant things, but the execution can make it feel like you have no presence within the story. Elita's speech acts like she had more interactions with Orion offscreen even though the timeline and presentation makes it look like that wouldn't even be possible.

The one person that does is D-16. And while I can see some of the ideas people have explained, here's the real problem with why people have said "his turn was (etc, etc)" is that the story...

...Well look this is going to be a bit of a recap now but first a little thing about pacing, narrative inflection and connective tissue. Pacing is pretty important not out of realism, but verisimilitudinous, meaning "the appearance of being true or real". Reality is reality, and in stories, pacing is there not to make things feel like you're either bloating the film with comedy scenes that exists for the sake of it, or squeezing the film into an anorexic mess.

Now the connective tissue is pretty simple. It's how moments hold weight when they happen, how they reflect the later moments and how the thematic viewpoint of the story or scene. You can't just have a character go through an arc, then vanish into irrelevancy for a long time even by the runtime before having a grand climatic moment. Reinforcement is key because it can add weight. The story-point can't just be a technical straight line.

Inflection is just this: a guy makes a racist/sexist, generally unpleasant remark and when confronted they go "just a joke!" even though it was obvious that it wasn't.

And the first thing that comes to mind is that D-16 is just weirdly incoherent.

People have pointed out his eagerness to make threats on Orion, but the narrative never presents his "threats" to Orion in the beginning as anything more than barbs. Simple jokes to be spoken in conversations. Now you could say that it's meant to be foreshadowing, that we're supposed to connect them to him post-T-Cog, and even in the cave beforehand, being a bit too on-the-nose violent. But it doesn't really work.

The message from how I see people say "He was always secretly bad!" Isn't really there. Orion's lack of a separate connection means that we only see him as the focal narrative lens to see D-16 become Megatron, and it is seen as a "falling" rather than a revealing of his character. The narrative never paints him being revealed.

And then there's the fact that the story really likes having D constantly face-off against shitty people.

This really goes hand-in-hand with how D is given the most focus when it came to wanting Sentinel torn down. When it came to the High-Guard the one given most focus is D, both in wanting Sentinel destroyed, and actively pointing out how blatantly cowardly Starscream is, after the latter established himself as a dick.

Optimus is only spurned into proactivity by D being captured. Like he does get to have his speech to the miners, but the story mainly focused on D when it came to taking down Sentinel.

Like you argue that after finding out his whole world was fake, that everything he worked for was a lie he'd crash out like a meteor. Except this circles back to how underdeveloped Elita-1 and B-127. They're significantly less affected by the revelation that their lives as this whole fucking mess. You could say that Elita has a character-driven reasoning compared to B since he really isn't good, but it still pretty much disconnects any real genuine weight there could've been.

Again, the story pulls so much on Optimus and D contrasting, that the jarring shift in how D begins his dark path is just going 180 without any real fluidity. People posit his earlier behavior, but the narrative portrayed that as him being the responsible one to Orion's recklessness. It becomes jarring because up until the reveal, D is the one to keep his head low, but it's never narratively presented as anything but a guy being responsible while his friend, while good is also clearly in over his head.

D's whole turn is just that jarring, and the narrative also really makes it so that he also takes a significant part of the screentime fighting Starscream, being tortured by Sentinel who also stole his idol's T-Cog. Like you can still argue that his whole scene about mercy is showing his dark turn, but it's the same thing, the story makes jarring shifts over D turning into the bad-guy.

Like let's kid ourselves, the story makes pre-emptive elements to justify it, but it still engages with the idea that the overwhelming uprising is bad. You could say that Optimus also took part in violence, but he's only spurned, reactive whereas D is the only one that acknowledges strength is needed.

The political foundations of the film are weird to me, because it's what Dan Olson said on his video Minecraft, Sandboxes, and Colonialism | Folding Ideas about how certain stories create a "clean" version of history to engage with. And in Transformers One, the story engages with the rage against the oppressor and says:

"Don't try to be violent because it shows that you're inevitably going down the route of becoming a monster."

The Matrix, to me, is the symbol of the divine right over Cybertron. But it's also basically making the idea that radicalism is bad, because the idea that the radical is actually evil/"too far" as per the Matrix's authority.

Some might say "B did it in self-defense! Sentinel didn't have that!" Yeah, let's disregard that those characters are faceless hordes who exist to die to our enemies, and B as a character is so thin on characterization that it's baffling they ever remembered him in the story. The three guards running from B's cutting threat are meant to comedic.

D is outright even more disconnected from the world at times since characters like Jazz are just not meaningful enough to connect us to the idea that he was always bad. Instead the story swerves right into D's thirst for vengeance as this moment of malevolence. When he kills the foot-soldiers with no purpose than to be beaten, the story acts like it's this moment that he might not be all there anymore.

Like the story does put context into these situations, and I'd argue that the reasoning behind making those in the first place are not great. The story just outright gets him into this box. Like the only reactions to Sentinel Prime's reveal that have genuine narrative weight is Orion's and D's, Elita's and B's are just background noise.

The story's shift is desperately trying to bury you into his fall into Megatron, but it rushes in the details, hammering them but never actually allowing us to see where his mindset turned from. D is just instantly now becoming Megatron, his growth being that every action he takes results in his fall.

It's like that you have a pathway with 30 steps before the hole to fall into, and the story just has D suddenly skip 25 steps before he drops.

Look, I don't think the writers and director intentionally made these weird points, but I would argue that the direction of Megatron as a pseudo-justified slave uprising is a demonization of political dissenters that oppose the system with a glorification of the centrists who, realistically, do jack shit to fix things. (IDW2005 has the same issues.)

Revolutions don't have a pretty history, 1984 is the textbook of this, since it directly commentates on reality to an extent. But that excuse feels very disingenuous since D is the only one who has the most rage against Sentinel, his rage is the most focused, and he seems to be the only one that pulls his weight the most against him, narratively.

D-16 is an interesting character in how a story failing to connect other characters, to have others reflect him can make a turn feel rushed. Like this film needed 15 more minutes to have him interact with more characters, or maybe instead of having the scene with ship, and the dumb comedy, cut them out for more interactions with the crew during their trek to Alpha Trion?

Who knows? Discussing in a hypothetical "better" is both infinite and moot, but this was a fun exercise in thought.

Me rn:

Yeah reposting my things into different blogs. check out yappintilldeath

[alessiathepirate]

Creep 2014

THE CONSEQUENCES OF A SMALL MISTAKE: Josef x fem!reader

Summary: The butterfly effect - the idea that small things can have big consequences. In her case, a small mistake gave her the opportunity to escape death.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

I didn't really plan to write any type of fanfiction or oneshot for this movie, even if I think it's fantastic (including the sequel) and unsettling, but there aren't many works out there for it - so I thought I'd try my best. And after some ideas and motivation, here it is! I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

Warnings: swearing, implied stalking, slightly referenced violence and/or murder, attempted murder

•••

the butterfly effect:

the butterfly effect is the idea that small things can have non-linear impacts on a complex system

or: the idea that the smallest things can have big consequences

°°°

She ran out of coffee. There was none left in the small metal container she usually kept the coffee beans in, and the cheap three in one box was empty as well.

That realization hurt in the morning, especially when she woke up late and knew that she'll be late for work. And the fact that the coffee was gone made the already bad day even worse.

She should've checked it, that's what she told herself as she went through her day without her usual, great cup of coffee. The one they make at her workplace couldn't be called coffee at all and the nearest coffee shop was too far away to go there during her break.

So she had to survive without the coffein she loved.

Such a small thing. A small mistake, a usual occurance - something what can happen to anybody anytime. Yet the consequences of her not checking on the metal container on Sunday were greater than she could've ever imagined.

She was home just before seven. It was already starting to get dark and she was tired. Way too tired to care about anything, to notice the unusual things happening around her or remembering the things she had promised she'd do. She didn't notice the package on her porch, even if the box was big enough to reach past her knees. She walked past it, trying to grab her keys from her bag to open the door.

"You didn't answer my calls..." the voice was so sudden she dropped her keys as her hands shook violently, her eyes no longer tired, but wide open. Her throat felt tight as held onto her bag tightly, her knuckles turning white as she looked around on the porch, examining all the dark corners to decide where to aim with it.

It took a few seconds for her to realize she knew that voice. It wasn't a stranger even if his voice did sound strange from time to time, it was high pitched when he was excited and he was excited at the weirdest moments.

"For fucks sake, you scared the Hell out of me!" she spoke up, her voice rough - then, after she realized how rude she must've sounded, she apologized with a small, tired smile: "I had a long day, I didn't mean to shout at you."

Her expression changed, going back to its exhausted self. She let go of her bag, letting it sit on her shoulder as she crouched down to find her keys.

Then the guy she knew as Josef walked closer to her, showing her which dark corner he was hiding in. He let the shadows draw dark shapes onto his face before he too crouched down, immediately finding the keys she was looking for.

"Thank you." she said as she took them from him, standing back up to open the door.

"It's okay." he was unusually quiet as he observed her every move, even after she stepped inside, leaving the door open for him. "No movie night then?"

She stopped, for a second feeling very much awake as she gently hit her forehead with her hand.

"Fuck, I totally forgot about it." for a moment she looked like she's about to cry. "I'm one poor excuse of a friend." she kicked her shoes off and let her bag fall to the ground as she quickly disappeared into the house - her voice had an unusual pitch to it as she shouted back: "Do you want some tea or something? Hot chocolate maybe? Heck, that's the least I can do - I'm so sorry."

Even in her tired and pityful mood she still knew that in the next few seconds Josef will turn up somewhere - behind her, next to her, in the other room when she leaves the kitchen. He did that a lot, scaring her either as a plan or as an accident. This was the case that time too.

"Hot chocolate's fine." she jumped a little, her heart beating faster as his voice came from directly behind her; she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

Although she said nothing to it, because it had became an everyday thing, she still needed a few moments to collect herself.

"Okay. Give me a moment." she whispered, the sentence having two meanings: Give me a moment to get the hot chocolate done and Give me a moment to collect myself after you scared me.

"Did you order something?" Josef asked as he walked around the kitchen, looking at all the appliences and touching some of them even if he's seen them many times before.

"What do you mean?" she furrowed her eyebrows as she got the mugs ready, not understanding his question. She didn't order anything.

"You have a package on the porch."

"Great." she muttered, her tiredness showing once again. "Must be the wrong address. But whatever, I'll deal with it tomorrow."

She couldn't see him, but she heard his breathing and his steps as she melted some chocolate and poured some milk into the mugs.

" 'You sure?"

Why wouldn't I be?

"Yeah. I've got a movie night to make up for." she smiled as she added some cream to the drinks; she then turned towards him, her smile not disappearing at all even her eyes hurt a bit. "I don't have any popcorn, but we can still watch something if it's okay."

They both looked at the other, neither of them blinking as if they'd like to win a sudden challenge. He tilted his head, examining her posture or gestures - she couldn't tell, but she felt like she's telling him more than she'd like to.

His gaze was strange. Everything was more unusual about him ever since he turned up on her porch. She didn't necessary like it, but she didn't dare to point it out either.

And then suddenly, as if someone just pressed a switch in him, he smiled. More like grined. His whole mood changed in a second - and the oddness of it activated her fight or flight reflex. The fear ran through her fast, it made her shiver and her hands twitch slightly.

She has never been afraid of him before. Maybe she should've - her instincts told her.

"It's okay." his grin stayed and it made her feel like prey. "Let's watch something."

"Yeah." it wasn't more than a whisper for herself to gain her strength back as she watched Josef leave the kitchen - she soon followed him with the mugs. "So- what'll we watch?"

"'Interview with the Vampire'?" she looked at him as she put down the mugs on the coffee table right in front of the TV, and she couldn't help but let out a tired, half-annoyed sigh despite the coldness that ran through her back.

"Again?" she asked with a small, but knowing smile and even if the weird feeling didn't leave her chest, it was still an honest one. "We watched it last week too."

"Please?"

She just shook her head with a weak smile and was already on her way to connect the old DVD player to the TV, and then look for the cheap copy of the movie. She didn't have to look for long. It was right where they left it last week after he had gotten bored and pressured her into taking a walk around the neighborhood late at night.

"All right. Just because I owe you- and you're one of the few people I actually care about."

After everything was set and the first shot appeared on the TV, she finally sat down on the couch and leaned back - both her worry and hot chocolate forgotten as her limbs were finally stretched and resting. That was when she really felt the missing doses of coffein; her whole body felt heavier than usual now that she was past the hard part of the day. Now that she could see the familiar actors and hear the familiar lines; now that she could feel Josef's thigh against her own, she finally started to give up.

It felt too nice and comfortable. She doubted that she can wait out the whole two hours and two minutes - she had seen the Interview with the Vampire so many times she knew everyhing about it by heart - without falling asleep.

But until then, she could talk, to keep Josef entertained. He had to be entertained unless she wanted to wake up to him scaring her and having a heart attack.

"Did you do anything interesting today?" she asked as she slowly sat up to reach her drink.

"Sure. I shot a short film for the collection."

"Well, at least you had a more exciting day then I had." she yawned. "Will you show me some of it? Someday..."

"Someday." maybe if she was more alert, she would've seen the change in his tone and gestures.

She put the mug back down. The movie continued. They stayed quiet.

Unusually quiet.

Josef is very rarely calm and silent. He either has to be in a bad mood or has to be very tired. And as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes she couldn't see any of it.

And then, later, the more tired she was, the more alert he became. His back straightened, but not from the excitement she came to know - from something else, something new; something she hasn't seen before.

Seemingly, he was thinking. She knew it from the way the muscles around his mouth moved. But she couldn't tell what was on his mind. It must've been something big and serious. She didn't dare to ask.

"You know..." her eyes were halfway closed when Josef spoke up. "I really thought you wouldn't care if we missed this movie night."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're tired."

"So?" she asked. "I'm always the tired one. You simply have more energy. Besides, it's just the addiction - coffee is a pretty strong drug." she chuckled quietly.

"I was thinking, maybe I'll keep you as my friend." if she noticed the dark tone of his voice, she didn't give it away at all.

"Well it's really nice of you to think so Josef, since we've been friends for the last two months." she turned towards him, her lips slightly curling upwards. "But I'll be happy if you keep me."

"I might."

And then soon, she was gone.

Her eyes closed, because she couldn't keep them open any longer and her whole being relaxed; her body didn't feel heavy anymore.

Perhaps she should have been worried. Scared - to fall asleep. But that's not how it went down, she gave up the fight with sleep and even if she lost, that's what saved her life.

The Interview with the Vampire kept on playing on the TV, the light from it made it possible to see in the room. Five minutes went by, then ten. And suddenly her head was resting on Josef's shoulder.

If she was awake, she would've noticed how stiff his posture has become or how he almost moved further away from her. But in the end he stayed and after he worked on his position on the couch, he decided to put aside the knife he had in his hand.

He slightly moved his head so his chin wouldn't touch the top of her head as he found the right angle to examine her from. He had seen her do a lot of stuff. He had seen her cook and clean, go to work and to the store or do whatever she liked to do in her free time - all without her knowledge. He hadn't seen her sleep yet.

She seemed calm, trusting. But then again every single person looks calm in his or her sleep. Trusting on the other hand - not many people would put their trust in him. Only the very naive or stupid ones. But he knew she wasn't stupid, nor naive. She had a decent job, a decent life and she didn't talk to everyone. Yet she talked to him.

He raised one of his hands and took hold of a lock of hair softly. He twisted it around his fingers and then awkwardly petted her head.

There was no fun in killing her in that moment. She was asleep. She hadn't seen the package yet. She hadn't seen the VHS tape he put in it. There wasn't enough fear in her yet.

But then again there was something else. There was trust and perhaps, just perhaps it may be more interesting than fear. It for sure felt nicer than her fear.

He brushed his fingers along the outline of her face as if he'd like to know every single bone or wrinkle. He stayed there and raked his fingers through her hair and smelled it too.

Later he put his knife away.

And after he put her in a more comfortable position on the couch, he went outside to get to the package before she does. He cut it open and after he retrieved the necklace he put in it, he set the rest of it aside. He'll get rid of it before she wakes up.

Maybe if she trusts him this much she'll like it.

If she likes him this much she'll definitely like it.

He sat down next to her on the couch again, his gaze was once on the movie and once on her.

That's what it took her to avoid death.

Her forgetfulness, her addiction and her trust. One simple mistake.

And after unknowingly escaping death, she's got an even clingier and stranger Josef than before.

But then again, it's still better, isn't it?

[pizza-cake-house]

so idk why do all the ppl in the magnus chase series or even in norse myths in general think niflheim or helheim are by far the worst places you could end up to in nine realms after death (from what i know) like if you want to find real hell around the world tree then alfheim is literally right there.

real definition of never judge a book by it's cover. i could even list all the reasons as to why it could be considered living hell for anybody living there (or even those outside of it) in this same post

the reasons why alfheim is the worst place in nine realms (mostly based on how it's described in the series by the characters:)

-the sun never literally fucking sets. it's eternal sunshine all year long 24/7. imagine that. actual hellish landscape. i would literally rather be dead than not have nighttime anymore ever again.

-the worst fucking capitalist bastard in the whole series and the worst most evil fictional character i've EVER seen lived there. i think that would be enough reason for anyone to hate that place.

-the idealization of perfection is just unnatural. everything is Too Perfect there and it's just not normal. it should have imperfections like every place has but they don't exist. everything seems Too Beautiful but it's actually a cover for the ugly truths underneath imo.

-literally nobody uses magic there anymore and those who do are shunned by their society and families and cast as outsiders. like what the fuck is their problem. hearth is propably the only one from the entire realm to even understand the concept of magic anymore bc he romanticizes the past and utterly despises the present. and he knows he can do that just to spite the ones that hate on him for that.

-imo there are other ppl living in that hellscape who also fucking hate it but can't speak out loud bc they don't want to be shunned or banished or killed, or having to deal with the capitalistic tyrant who probs had all the power in the place as well as all the money until he died and speaking up against him would've been a bad idea.

-the patron god of that realm literally did shit nothing to stop the situation from getting dire, like if i saw all the shit that was happening there i would've come all the way from asgard and fucking incinerated alderman's ass right on the spot with zero hesitation whatsoever. like no second thoughts just smiting that bitch down.

-also hearth's brother literally Died there like i would be miserable too if my brother died in an already horrible place and then get blamed for it for my whole life.

like i'm not blaming them or anything, but it did make things worse but the real blame is on their dad tho. not hearth. that shit was never his fault bc technically it was an accident and it could've been prevented but it was just too late.

that's pretty much all there is ig, i can't think of anything else to add unless i make a separate list of all the trauma that hearth has from his childhood which i propably won't do bc it's just. that horrible. feel free to add your own takes on this tho

[lynxxjay]

‼️‼️SPOILERS FOR JEFFY'S 20TH BIRTHDAY‼️‼️

DONT READ ANYTHING FROM TGIS POST UNTIL YOUVE WATCHED IT

...

The new video was fucking brilliant, heartbreaking, and dark

absolutely dark.

Nancy was wayy way worse than I could've ever imagined... what she did to Jacques, Feebee, and Jeffy was diobotical

and what happened to the CJ guy was fuvking deserved I just wished Jeffy burned his body afterwards

Feebee was such a tragic character atleast she can rest in peace now...

I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry atleast a little bit

SML satisfied my expectations Im glad they made it into a backstory vid and the ending was amazing 🤌 10/10

now for some images I screenshotted

I love Jacques' car I think its called a beetle

I didn't know they could light the puppet's cigar thats neat I guess

Poor Jacques,, I never thought THATS what happened to him...

bithday boy <3

the necklace though 💀

Nancy,, when I catch you Nancy.. Nancy when I catch you...

aw baby 😔 (his legs is so long)

Mr Winkle as a police 💀

absolutely deserved. fuck you CJ burn in hell 🖕

[william-m-lucipher]

RATING A FEW OF MY PUPPETS!

THEY ALL HAVE THEIR UPSIDES AND DOWNSIDES! HERE ARE MY OPINIONS ON A HANDFUL OF 'EM!

SIXER: MASSIVE AMOUNT OF BRAIN SPACE, FILLED WITH COMPLEXITIES! ALSO A GOOD CHUNK OF EMBARRASSING NERD MEMORIES. HIS MIND IS WHERE ALL THE LUXURY WAS!

BODILY EXPERIENCE WAS INTERESTING, HIS EYESIGHT WAS LACKING EVEN WITH THE GLASSES. IT SEEMS HE'D GONE A WHILE WITHOUT RENEWING HIS PRESCRIPTION. SURE, THE GLASSES LESSENED THINGS, BUT YEESH! ONE EYE WAS ALWAYS WORSE THAN THE OTHER, BUT THEY WERE BOTH IN BLURRYTOWN. TALK ABOUT A LACK OF DEPTH PERCEPTION! THE EXTRA FINGERS THOUGH, THEY WERE FUN! AND THAT GUY HAD A DECENT-ISH PAIN TOLERANCE THANKS TO THOSE OLD BOXING LESSONS HE AND HIS BROTHER WERE FORCED TO DO. IT WAS FUN TO TEST THE LIMITS!

A SOLID 8/10, GREAT GUY TO WORK WITH, POSSESSION EXPERIENCE COULD'VE BEEN BETTER THOUGH!

PINE TREE: BRAINWISE, LESS COMPLEXITY, MORE COMEDY, AT LEAST IN MY EYE! HE WAS A SMART KID, SURE, BUT MAN, RERUNS OF HIS LOWLIGHTS WILL KEEP ME ENTERTAINED FOR AGES. IMAGINE AN ACTUALLY FUNNY CRINGE COMPILATION THAT NEVER GETS OLD! THAAAAT'S PINE TREE!

AS FOR THE BODY, BETTER EYESIGHT, BETTER JOINTS, AND THE PAIN TOLERANCE WAS TERRIBLE, WHICH WAS GREAT FOR ME! IT WAS THE FIRST THING I NOTICED WHEN I TOOK THE STRINGS, HAHA! THOUGH BEING SWEATY, SMELLY, AND TICKLISH KINDA RUINED THE DELUXE SUITE FEEL. EH, WHEN DEALING WITH THE HUMAN BODY, THERE'S NO WAY TO HAVE IT ALL, EVER.

7/10, AT LEAST I'VE GOT A LOT TO LAUGH ABOUT.

HIRSCHEY: I THINK IT'S PRETTY OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT THAT I'VE BEEN PULLING THE STRINGS WITH FLANNELBRITCHES FOR A GOOD WHILE NOW. LONG BEFORE HE EVEN SECURED A ROLE WITH THE MOUSE, I'VE BEEN A SUBTLE INFLUENCE!

NOW LISTEN, I'D LOVE TO SPILL EVERYTHING, BUT THIS GUY HAS ALL THE RIGHT CONNECTIONS TO RUIN EVERYTHING IF I MAKE THE WRONG DECISIONS WHILE USING MY OTHER PUPPETS IN THIS REALITY. LET'S JUST SAY, HIS BODY IS MID, BUT HIS MIND ALONE ADDS EXTRA POINTS! I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPLAIN, HAHA!

9/10, WHAT A GOOD FRIEND!

BURNSIDES: OH WAIT, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS YET! WINK! HAHA, COME BACK TO THIS POST FOR THE ANSWER ON SMOKEY'S BIGGEST FAN IN A FEW DAYS.

?/10, TO BE ANNOUNCED

EAS-Y: THE ONE I'M CURRENTLY USING! GONE BY SEVERAL DIFFERENT NAMES, BECAUSE THEIR MEAT SUIT IS LITERALLY STUFFED WITH SEVERAL DIFFERENT PEOPLE DUE TO CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, HAHA!! THE HUMAN MIND HAS SOME WEIRD COPING MECHANISMS. E.A.S STANDS FOR THE SILLY NAME FOR THEIR SYSTEM THEY PICKED ONE DAY ON A WHIM.

MY FAVORITE ONE HERE HAS TO BE ZILLARA, WHO I ONCE REFERRED TO AS "T" DURING AN APRIL FOOL'S EVENT ON THE SYSTEM'S ABANDONED ACCOUNT. (IT WAS SHORT FOR THE COLLECTIVE DEADNAME OF THIS VESSEL.) HE'S AN OLD HOST AND AN OLD PAL! Z'S BEEN SO... GENUINELY NICE TO ME FOR ALMOST TEN YEARS NOW. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM?! HAHA!!! Ah... ENOUGH ABOUT JUST ONE GUY, THOUGH, THIS PLACE IS PACKED WITH EM! BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY DON'T HAVE WIGGLE ROOM. THIS MIND IS MORE SPACIOUS THAN PINE TREE AND SIXER'S COMBINED, BUT IT'S ALL BEING USED ON KEEPING FOLKS COMFORTABLE AND GUARDING HARMFUL MEMORIES. LISTEN, I'M NOT SALTY ABOUT THE MEMORY GUARDING. I TOOK A PEEK, AND JEEZ, IT'S DEFINITELY FOR THE BETTER.

ANYWAYS, THIS PLACE IS LAYED OUT LIKE A WHOLE SMALL TOWN! BEST VACATION HOME OUTTA ALL OF 'EM! AS AMAZING AS HIRSCHY'S IS, IT'S BUSY BUSY BUSY EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME. PARTIALLY MY FAULT FOR GETTING HIM INTO THE ANIMATION INDUSTRY. SORRY THERE, BUDDY!

THE DOWNSIDE TO IT ALL IS THAT EVEN THOUGH THERE ARE PLENTY WHO LIKE ME HERE, I'VE ALSO GOT A FAIR SHARE OF ENEMIES WHO CALL THEMSELVES "PROTECTORS" AND "GATEKEEPERS." NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF AN ANGRY SECRETARY LADY, LET ME TELL YOU!

BODY WISE, IT'S QUITE THE PAIN BUFFET! BAD JOINTS, MIGRAINES, LOW PAIN TOLERANCE, AND MAN, THE TICS AND SEIZURES! YOU'D THINK GIVEN MY EXPERIENCE WITH BODY SPASMS WHILE PUPPETING PINE TREE, I'D HATE THESE, BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT! IT'S SOME OF THE FUNNIEST PAIN, THE PUNCHLINE HITS YOU OUTTA NOWHERE, SEVERAL TIMES, IN SEVERAL DIFFERENT WAYS!

8.5/10, TALK TO YOUR PROTECTORS AND YOU MIGHT EARN THE FIRST 10, OR AT LEAST A 9.8!!!

IN SUMMARY:

- SIXER'S A DECENT PUPPET, BUT A BETTER ALLY. STILL A SHAME HE NEVER JOINED ME

- PINE TREE IS A PERSONAL COMEDY CLUB!

- HIRSCHEY IS A GREAT PUPPET, AND A POWERFUL ALLY WHO COULD EASILY BECOME MY WORST ENEMY

- I'M UNDER NDA ABOUT GUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

- EASY HERE IS, WELL, THE EASIEST ONE!!

MAYBE I'LL RATE A FEW MORE SOMETIME, LIKE CHARLES GUITEAU, OR WITH LUCK, YOU!

[ms-cartoon]

Hazbin Rewrite idea . . .

Thinking up some hazbin hotel rewrite ideas cuz the show needs it goddammit! And I wanna see what y'all think.

First of all, Hazbin needs more episodes besides just 8. Like-- I'd say probably 12-20 would be good just to flesh everything out instead of fast-pacing it, crumbling every single character into this one season, y'know, the usual Vivziepop error.

Instead of Adam and Lute being season 1's antagonists, the three Vees should've been the main villains. They can be one of those recurring groups of villains that show up in most episodes instead of every single one.

I don't think they should've been introduced in episode 2, we probably could've waited on that. I guess ep 3 or 4 could've been their first appearance.

I don't know what the Vees' goals are as the Hazbin crew's enemy. Vox and the other two try to come up with a way to keep Charlie from ever striking a deal with Alasor (a little late for that as far as the last two eps), but I don't know why it would be much of a problem for them if she does. I suppose since they're trying to take over hell, he would imagine Charlie (being the princess of hell and higher rank of an overlord) and Alastor (being one of the most powerful overlords of hell that rivals him of some sort) would be his main obstacles to achieving his goal. And somehow the two making a deal together would make it 10x worse for him. If that is the case then I guess I can see that.

But even if so, I don't see why the Vees would want to take over hell. What would possibly motivate them?? I mean-- they are already well-known by tons of folks and are very popular and wealthy. What exactly is taking over hell gonna change?

All in all, the show of course needed more episodes

The Vees should've been season 1's antagonist while the Angels could've been the finale. (I don't know what the Vees' goal could be or what could motivate them to achieve it, but anything better than what Viv had up her sleeve . . . which isn't much of anything as far as I know)

[tamelee]

You mentioned a few posts earlier something that I can’t stop thinking about.

I feel so bad for Kishimoto. I can’t even imagine how terrible it must be. He created such a great story, and obviously, he has to know that it’s his heritage, something that people will remember him for long after his death.

And he had to throw it down the drain, forced to let Boruto happen. I don’t believe he could say no. What author would let THIS happen to his greatest achievement.

This is just sad 😔

Hi @pattie1k ! 💕 Yes!!! I think about this all the time..

There are so many posts that talk about money and "he did it for the money", "he doesn't care, he has money".. uhm, hello? They have no idea, do they? Look, I don't claim to know anything either, frankly none of us can because we don't have any insight in their legal documents but give the man some credit? Think, even just a little, about the industry and how they work- how incredibly strict they are when it comes to rules, how unethical they are when it comes to business, how- even when Kishimoto is held to such high standards in their field, he still has little say about his own story because it became a franchise. One he doesn't own fully himself. Where he has to beg for months/years to get a single scene through simply "because he wants to". Where he has to convince the editors of the magazine he works with that certain things are "essential" to the story and even has to fight them for it because he can't simply decide for himself.

Where.. getting involved directly with the sequel is probably the only way to be in control of things despite him wanting to retire... 👀 Because "supervising" alone, whatever the hell that means (nothing), simply won't do anything. Kishimoto is just a single man in an entire industry where things can get very, very calculative for good and worse behind the "entertainment" we see. Where, the fandom fights in 'Boruto's case worked out wonderful because it keeps people talking. People being dissatisfied doesn't matter because it is still attention nonetheless. Do you honestly think they would care more about Kishimoto's feelings than the franchise making profit? Of course not. The company knows best, yes? He is just "Kishimoto-sensei :)! Isn't he great?! Wow." A name they can use to increase marketing value. To make people say "oh wow Kishimoto's name is on this, it must be canon 🤡!" You have to be very careful with marketing- if they're not clear in the description, then that's for a reason. The Naruto manga explicitly says: Story and Art by Masashi Kishimoto. He spends 15+ years hunched over a desk, neglecting his own family and marriage for the sake of 'Naruto' and not once did he properly foreshadow the sequel despite knowing it was coming. Of course he's petty. Well.. petty is what we can see, he was probably a whole lot more. Chapter 700 and Gaiden reflected pretty well to what he could've felt. He said loneliness scared him to death and yet, instead of concluding his biggest journey with happiness or the promise that was made, knowing fully well that these characters need rising growth both in their inner and outer worlds for them to have a successful fictional story, both Naruto and Sasuke are back to feeling lonely. That is a big Shonen no-no. He broke all the rules with a big "fuck you" in a single chapter (700). Just like that. When I was in Korea, the company I was hired to work with for a project also had multiple projects going. A group of Japanese animators were there in the same building. Two of them I could communicate with somewhat and from them I learned a thing or two about their business. From my understanding, even if you as a Mangaka (as successful as he is) don't agree with certain things, you don't have much to say. That is because you work together with the company, its publisher, therefore they hold a lot of power. We know he doesn't fully own the franchise which means he is not the one who is the decision maker. If I ever have the chance to talk to him (which I will not, but a girl can dream) I'd ask him about this. 'Boruto' wasn't his idea, he literally had no time to think about this while creating 'Naruto'- besides, his interests were elsewhere which is why he created another Manga after 'Naruto' named: Samurai 8.

And now here we are.. Just.. waiting for the nerfed OG's to die :/

It's very sad.. ;-;

[starlightshadowsworld]

Danganronpa 3: Despair arc episode 5.

Thonks.

Into a flashback of kid Ryota being bullied by some kids.

Having rubbish tipped onto him as they call him dirty and taking photos.

Kids are scary man.

Poor Ryota.

And his parents suck, and he copes by watching cartoons.

This got way to relatable.

Cool seeing his set up and such but man he's so stressed which... yeah, shout out to all the artists and animators out there.

Ya'll are great.

Back to Chisa heading to the Reserve Course.

Aaand we don't see it, it's skipped over of course.

I get that it's her punishment and it's a downgrade from her usual class which she loves.

And I know kids can be asshole's.

But I just hate that teaching these kids is considered a punishment.

These kids are looked down upon by everyone at the main school, it's just sad seeing that everyone really was against them.

Hammering the point that any one of those kids could've become Izuru Kamakura.

And for teaching them Chisa was treated awfully for it.

It's werid seeing Juzo calmly talk to someone.

Chisa's heard about the Kamakura project, I think it's too late though.

This sounds werid but I'm kinda glad they're not gonna be able to save Hajime.

Because can you imagine if they got him out and saved him?

The Reserve Course would probably be shut down or something especially knowing where the funds for it were going.

Hajime would be more depressed than ever, and these guys are not the people to give the "You're more than a talent speech."

Unless it's Chiaki than its a whole other story.

But than they'd be seperated and Hajime is back to square one.

... Fuck is the good ending for Hajime bring tortured so bad he literally becomes someone else?

I mean it does get better, hopefully if the end of Danganronpa 2 is any sign.

But man that's sad.

Did not need to re-live Juzo beating Hajime.

Ohh so they covered up Hajime being involved by saying he's been expelled.

Clever.

And looking like Jin Kirigiri wasn't involved, as they say the other staff on the board run the school.

Idk if its better or worse he wasn't involved.

Because either way he's enabling it.

I really like the idea of him being in on it, but than regretting it.

Much like the Director, case of history repeating itself.

And that guilt playing into his actions in the first game.

And partly why he kept Kyoko at arms length, he didn't want her getting caught up into this.

But also knew if Kyoko was near him she would snuff out the project easily.

It's okay if he's not, just makes him both a bad headmaster and a bad father.

"Make sure you're students don't make the news again."

Oh you're in for a rude awakening.

But Nagito's gone missing.

Suspicious.

And we get a shot of the applications of the 78th class.

Hell yeah.

And Jin looking at Kyoko's. Incase we forgot she's his daughter.

... Chisa why would you want to be Munakata's anything nevermind beloved?

Sworn enemy maybe, but beloved?

Aww the class having a celebration for her that's so sweet.

And Chiaki planned it, and she's been holding the class together.

Love that for her.

Fuyuhiko pretending he doesn't care but he does.

Man I missed these guys, even though it hasn't been long at all.

Hiyoko got taller, holyshit.

Gundam and Sonia giving a toast in true Gundam fashion might just be the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

Ryota saying he has no time for friendship.

I get your busy man but you can't stop friendship.

It will find you, you will be friended.

And yes that is a threat.

... Wait a sec... That wasn't Ryota, that's Imposter?!

Twogami my boy! I was wondering where he was.

Awh he's been covering for and looking after Ryota.

That's so sweet.

"This show can't end till its characters get a redemption."

I hope so.

"People can flake you out but carbs are always there."

Same ol Twogami.

He's not wrong though.

A plane and a fancy car.

..... SHE'S HERE.

And she put a bomb in her purse, or her purse was a bomb.

Either way that limo is gone, heh unintentional rhymes.

Junko Enoshima has entered the building.

As fabulous as ever.

And of course she's narrating her own life and insulting Mukuro at the same time.

I like how Mukuro's voice is almost monotone, balancing out Junko's more loud upbeat voice.

Junko's narration including the tragedy, so she had this shit planned from the get go.

This afternoon in fact.

Man imagine joining secondary school like what are your goals?

Oh I'm gonna destroy the whole world.

Can't even call her overconfident because she did it.

Mukuro being... Infatuated? With Junko doesn't suprise me, mainly cos I've seen that clip of them in the limo before.

Without context.

But even than makes sense, they may be the despair sisters but Junko has always been the mastermind behind the whole operation.

And for Mukuro to go through and do this shit for Junko, yeah she's gotta care for her a lot.

... Maybe too much...

The fact they both talk while Junko casually tries to kill Mukuro, I guess that's how they bond.

Because if they wanted to, they could kill the other.

The only one who would and succeeded was Junko.

"What an affect my bloody corpse would have on her."

Honestly, yeah I think it would. Junko wouldn't have killed her if it didn't give her despair.

Love that Mukuro didn't even know about them going to Hope's Peak.

Once again Junko is the brains of the operation.

Love the friendship between Ryota and Twogami.

And it makes sense why Ryota is so focused and why he spends all his time on his talent.

It's all he had growing up he has to make it.

Has to.

Annnd Ryota passed out.

Poor guy.

Twogami, my dude there are better and easier ways to get someone to help you.

Rather than just grabbing Mikan and dragging her away.

Poor Mikan.

So Twogami realised he was struggling and got him to stay with him.

That's sweet.

Probably wasn't the best idea given it enabled him to overwork himself so much.

But still sweet.

I'm sad we don't get to know his name but I guess that's the point.

I like to think if he had one, Ryota knew it.

... AHHHH MAKOTO!!!

My boyyy!!

I didn't think we'd see him in the despair arc, or at least this early but here we are.

Oh Makoto, look at how happy and not traumatised he is.

Savour this moment.

His little pep talk to himself.

Annnd Junko's here narrating about her plan and drawing Monokuma.

Imagine telling her the random kid before her is the one who's gonna defeat her.

"Who knows maybe fate will drop someone into my lap."

Oh it will... And there he is.

Hi Hajime.

And incase we didn't know if already, Juzo's verbal and physical best down of Hajime was the final nail in the coffin and why he agreed to do the project.

Fuck you Juzo.

"You'll be fine."

... No... No he won't.

[yournightowl]

Your NightOwl #041

Got invited to a protest today. i wasnt able to go, sadly, because i had a prior engagement- which i could've easily gotten out of.

But i didn't

Because i'm scared.

It's a good cause, obviously, organizing against the constant simmering fighting in the tropics. Making people pay attention to where the rare earth metals in their phones and cars and androids are coming from, making megs and politicians acknowledge the blood on their hands. Hell, everyone should be out there, marching and yelling and refusing to stay quiet.

But you don't get to show up, voice your opinion, breath a sigh of contentment and then go home.(￣ε￣＠)

What you say online can follow you for a long time,

┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

but what you speak up against in person follows you for life.

There are cameras everywhere. Everywhere.

Traffic stops, security systems, androids and robots and advertisements watching where you go and what your eyes look at. Not to mention the cameras we're all carrying around in our pockets every waking moment of every day. Any one of those frames, just ripe for f-rec to scrape from.

i saw it myself last month- a boy got pulled out of history class because the police wanted to talk to him. Apparently, they gave him crap about breaking curfew, or not having a permit, or someone at the event was smoking something near where his underage nose could smell, or whatever-

But the important part is, they were ready to charge him.

If we were a different school, in a different part of the city, with families that operated in a different tax bracket

He could've been arrested.

As it is, his parents paid a fine and it went away, but its not like he went unpunished. Everyone can tell, since he's changed so much afterwards. Very "focused on his schoolwork". Very apolitical. Whatever they did to him, you can bet it was a lot worse than a spanking.

See there's no chance his family cared about the money. i mean, i can't even imagine how big a fine would need to be for them to take notice. But the rich and powerful hate nothing more than they hate being embarrassed in front of the competition- ୧((#Φ益Φ#))୨ which is everyone, around here.

Because the real elites- the truly, obscenely wealthy? The ideal that they're all aiming for?

Those kinds of people never pay for anything.

i write all of this in part to educate you, but mostly to give a longwinded excuse for my own cowardice.

It's all bull.

There are kids with one percent of what i've got that've got a thousand times more guts- And none of them are out here pretending to be something they're not- hiding on the oldnet, playing at journalistic integrity.

The next time i get invited, i should go. o(TヘTo)

Easier said than done. There may never be a next time.

No one ever asks a coward for help twice (╯︵╰,)

on the sidelines again, your nightowl

[grimlins-chaos]

Let's break this down because this was always something that kinda tripped me up upon my first viewing (and i'm a much more recent avatar fan so allow me to offer some fresher perspective)

To start with the first more lesser reason why people shit on aang was because of the aang x katara relationship which- listen, i get it's hard to remember but these are still KIDS we're talking about, i had watched my brother and cousins do dumb and down right life-threatening shit at 12 for no other reason other than "just because" i do not expect 12 year old boys to be good at relationships, hell i don't even expect 16-17 y/os to be good at relationships! They've no idea what the fuck they're doing and they're running around blasting the 4 fucking elements at each other! And additionally Aang comes from a culture where relationships just don't work the same as what most would consider normal, kid didn't have a mom or dad to look to for relationship or parenting examples, he had his entire temple raising him and the other kids.

Could they have handled him and katara better? Absolutely! Like I would have preferred if they either A. Did *more* with aang and katara's relationship, give it more time to develop and everything so when they actually get together it's satisfying pay off or B. Just didn't fuck with ships to begin with

For the second and primary reason why aang gets shit was his refusal to kill ozai which i don't necessarily blame people for not getting, kinda went a bit over my head too outside of the fact that being merciful towards a man who's always been a merciless monster is the top tier pettiest shit ever and i love that

But again you're dealing with a *kid*, a very sweet and empathetic kid who wants nothing but to do right by people after he made the choice to run away 100 years ago which plunged the world into the state of chaos it became when he first awoke- he was *scared*. Like i don't know about any of you guys but i still couldn't sleep without the light on at that age and i would be horrified when faced with a fucking spider, i can't imagine what it's like to be in his shoes to suddenly have the responsibility of the ENTIRE WORLD on your shoulders.

And with none of his own people to guide him especially his master who was basically the closest thing to a father that he had- all he had were the things that they left him: their lessons, culture, their memories. And aang has to carry all of that on his shoulders, he can't EVER forget unless the airbenders are well and truly dead, and quite frankly i'm pissed that yangchen straight told him to throw *all* of that away. She never had to worry about her people's extinction, she could afford to disconnect herself but aang *can't*.

Let's go back to my point of Aang defeating Ozai with mercy: when you're dealing with someone who's cruel and heartless as Ozai, what is the one thing you can do that guys like him fucking *despise* more than anything else? Facing consequence. Especially at the hands of someone you underestimated as weak and worthless.

Ozai being spared his life at the cost of his bending taken away is a fate worse than death for him because if he had died that day he would've never had to face the consequences for his actions because death is an easy escape, for once in his pathetic life he gets to live lower than the people he put down to the dirt in order to raise himself up and he gets to live like that. Ozai did nothing to earn his power he lied, stole, abused, and CHEATED.

Yes there are unfortunately some situations where someone is too dangerous to be left alive, god forbid anyone have to make that choice and thankfully aang didn't need to. Was the lionturtle a smidge bullshit that the writers pulled out of nowhere? Yeah, probably could've done a bit more set up back when aang tried to unlock the ability to control the avatar state at will just so there's a bit more build up but eh the entire show itself was air-tight enough to work and that's what matters for the most part.

some of your goofy asses for the past 20 years

[floorgazing]

closed starter for @virtueofsanityx.

it wasn't supposed to be like this. dying, that is — the part where he didn't when he thought that for sure, this time was it. for clarification to who it may concern: he hadn't meant to lose control of the wheel, but had meant to drive without a seatbelt. he hadn't meant to drive into a tree and go head first through the windshield, but had meant to drive so fast out of town that no one here could've ever seen it coming. for all intents and purposes, it was an accident ( despite how it looks ) that was born the way all of his decisions are: out of impulse. nagging, maddening impulse to get out of dodge, to cut and run. to embody i know the end by phoebe bridgers — i'll find a new place to be from.

but, that didn't happen. the car crashed and when he closed his eyes to brace for impact, he was back in his mother's living room, eating cereal on the couch. she's in a good mood, which should've been his first clue. she lets him curl under her arm while she smokes and stares at the tv, one hand toying with the curls of his hair while the other hangs a lit cigarette over the side of the couch, ashes falling to the carpet. her holding him should've been the second clue. i could stay here forever, he thinks, and he almost thinks he'll get to until the lights come. he's holding onto her arm tighter, like it'll stop her from disappearing, he thinks, hold me back, don't let me go — where am i going? mom, can you hear me? but she doesn't move, and then nothing is moving, and he can't see her as well anymore. then... he's awake, and he'd be more disappointed if he wasn't so hot, if everything didn't ache so bad that he had the capacity to feel something as trivial as wishing that had been it.

. . .

how he got back to his apartment, he doesn't know. where his shirt is, he also doesn't know. why his cat's veterinarian is sitting next to his bed with a wet rag on his forehead, he understands even less. i know it hurts. i'm sorry, but it's going to hurt a lot worse soon, the man explains, and axel stares at him like he has three heads. he might as well, but he doesn't, and he does have blood on the corner of his mouth. axel hasn't connected the dots yet, but there's a bite on his side that's about to change his entire life. it'll heal his wounds ( his head, his ribs, his broken bones — he looks like he should be dead, and he should be ), it'll give new meaning to the full moon. for now, he's more concerned with the pounding on the door, the knocking he thought was just imagining, and his heart sinks into his stomach — he knows exactly who it is, and he knows exactly what she wants. he wishes like hell she'd leave it be, that she'd save herself the heartache of being tangled up with him, but he knows it's a lost cause. she was the last one he talked to before he got into that car, and the last thing he'd said: i'm sorry. don't do anything i would do. "...if you don't get that, she's going to break the door down," axel murmurs it through a scratchy voice, his eyes barely fully open, his throat tightening around a cough. "go fucking get it. i don't want to lose my security deposit if you're going to make me be alive." if he could, he'd shove the motherfucker away. for now, he'll be grateful willow wasn't in the room to hear that particular sentiment. he only half meant it. he doesn't bother telling rishi not to let her in because he knows he doesn't stand a chance.

rishi? rishi doesn't get paid enough for this. he'd been more than content to ignore the hellish pounding coming from the front of the apartment, considering he's barely even gotten the hey, kid, you're a werewolf now speech out, considering his hands are full trying to keep this transitional fever down so that axel doesn't die between point a and point b, not to mention keep an eye on the wounds that would take a while yet to fully heal and could also kill him, but, sure — why not get bossed around by a 25 year old, ungrateful little brat? why the fuck not. he wets the cloth in the bucket of ice water again so that he can leave it on axel's forehead, heading now for the door, which he knocks back on once as a warning, then pushes it open, exasperated.

he... does not recognize this 20-something. it's a girl, of course. a very pissed off, very upset girl, and he only really knows axel adjacently, but this tracks for him. "now is a terrible time," rishi says breathlessly, hand gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles whiten, his jaw clenched — and axel didn't say don't let her in, so he does make room for her to pass, reluctantly. "axel's hurt. badly, badly hurt, but i'm fixing it. is there any chance can this wait?" for the record, he's half expecting to be blown past, here. there's little men in his head making bets on it.

[bl3randomfandoms]

Just a WIP I started after a convo between me and @nixliz about Luci wanting his belly scratched.

So far, it's untitled.

Luci had an itch to scratch. It went much deeper than something merely physical. Ever since that damn fat ass Zøg had stroked his back like that the other day... He hadn't realized that affection felt so good.

In Hell, Luci had never been treated nicely. Oh sure, he'd been touched, but not in a good way. The higher level demons used him for a hacky sack just for looking at them wrong. He'd kept to himself down there. Yeah, he'd had a small circle of pathetic low level friends, but after awhile they would get ambitious and level up. Then they'd treat him like crap too. But he'd never held it against them. They were demons. That's how they were supposed to act. He was the only one that seemed to feel things a little differently. And when he got Topside, those "feelings" got even worse.

Bean... She was the first person he didn't hate. What would it feel like to be stroked by her? He could only imagine.

He slunk around the castle, bored as Hell and longing for the touch of a friendly hand. But how was he supposed to get it? He couldn't just rub against somebody's legs like an actual cat. He didn't have a lot of dignity, but he had enough. The last time he'd had any real affection was from Kissy. That was nice, but it had been mostly sexual. Luci liked a good frolic in the sheets once in awhile, but he wasn't an incubus or a Lust demon. It was just something he needed once in awhile to blow off some steam.

But affection... That was a whole new animal. He wanted to dive a bit deeper into that. He craved a sense of appreciation. Maybe a sense of belonging. A strange thing for a demon to want... He shook his head and growled to himself. Maybe just because it felt so good, and he had to get some more of it! He lived for anything that felt good. Drinking, weed, sex... Hell even a little dancing and joking around. After being in Hell, all he wanted now was to feel awesome.

So, instead of acting desperate about it, he had to resort to a bit of trickery. He snickered to himself, and casually wandered over to Bean's bedroom. It was pretty early in morning, so he knew she'd be there. She'd gotten pretty drunk last night, but no matter how much she drank, that girl never got hung over. He admired that about her.

Lashing his tail to the door knob, he twisted it and slunk in. He was immediately assaulted with Bean's thunderous snore. She was spread across the whole bed, limbs tangled in the bed sheets.

"Right where I left you..." He smiled to himself, feeling a jolt of love for the queen. It stabbed his heartless chest, but then it melted into him like chocolate. He was already purring as he leapt lightly onto the bed. She was so drunk last night that he could've curled up next to her, and she wouldn't have noticed. He did like sleeping with her from time to time, but sometimes she'd thrash around so much that she would squish him.

Now she was all thrashed out, so he tiptoed over to her belly and curled up there, pretending he'd been there all the time.