#LIKE NO HE WOULD NOT TELL PEOPLE HE WOULD KILL THEM IF THEY TALK TO MITSURI

[nerdyydragon]

Also notable: I rarely see anyone say this about, like, romance movies (at least in earnest; there are soooo many other discourses about romance as a genre, but this isn't one I've seen).

Nobody says "noooo, don't go into the quaint little small-town café, Miss New York Businesswoman Protagonist! No, you're so goddamned dumb for talking to the guy who literally collided with you walking in the door!! You're so effing stupid for allowing him to pick up the papers you dropped!

Nobody says "Character is ridiculous for not trying to avoid freezing to death by huddling for warmth in the cabin!"

Nobody says "but they should know better!" about romance plots, unless it's some "love thine enemy" thing where logically the character should know better than to fall in love with the tragic, handsome villain who just tried to have them killed/kidnapped/dethroned/etc., but even then. The characters in a romance plot don't somehow miraculously know they're in a romance, they just know that they've encountered a [charming stranger] [mysterious rival] [new understanding of their childhood bestie] [any and all trope pairings that apply] and that, as they go about their day, Shit Happens. Compared to other genres it might be comparably low-stakes because nobody's in danger of getting stabbed (maybe, who knows, it could happen), but they don't posses foreknowledge of the events because they're not aware that this sequence of events is something like "A Duke for the Holidays" instead of "just another goddamned Tuesday".

We know.

We're supposed to know.

While part of me rails against an easy reliance on trope marketing, primarily when it supersedes any and all notions of telling me what the gods-damned book is about, as an audience we are, consciously or otherwise, aware of tropes and trends and patterns. We know, as the audience, that in a small-town romance film Miss New York Businesswoman Protagonist is going to break up with her boyfriend who never has time for her and shack up with the hunky father of two who works as a conservationist for a near-extinct, totally-not-made-up species of butterfly that only reproduces every six years under the light of a falling star, or something*. That's how the plot works.

Half the fun is figuring out how it happens.

Half the scare is figuring out how it happens, because horror, like romance, has a pretty defined end (though it isn't always death, but that's pretty clear from the beginning when that's the case).

I'm a spec-fic author. I'm working on a gothic sci-horror novel that, in its alpha stages, has scared the bejesus out of my reader to the point where she thinks the monster is going to appear in her house. She keeps feeling like she's being watched. We're 2/3 of the way through and she's paranoid to the point where she can't actually read the thing for long stretches of time even if she desperately wants to. I also write fantasy, and there are tropes and expectations that I rely on there, as well. But gods, I'm so tired of people (beyond the half-terror under a blanket "no, don't go in there!!!" response, without acknowledging that it must happen) not applying the same logic to horror protagonists as they do to those of other genres. They're not dumb.

Horror isn't dumb.

It's profoundly, utterly human in its terror.

And to the main point of the post: nothing Jonathan Sims (Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London) could have done would have averted the ending to his story. He's a brilliant mind cracking under strain, attempting to wrangle forces well beyond human comprehension that prey on his being a brilliant mind attempting to wrangle them. The Entities, on occasion, give him what he wants. He learns. He grows.

Until he becomes a monster himself.

There are so many versions of the story, littered with alternate choices and voltas and changes in patterns. "No" instead of "yes" that eventually becomes "yes", anyway, because it has to.

A big-city businesswoman, visiting her aging father for Christmas, walks into a coffee shop and runs headlong into her widowed highschool sweetheart after years away.

A gallant knight, stripped of his armour, raises a sword to protect the princess and slay the dragon.

A PI cracks a cold-case that's been haunting the local police for years after they stumble on new evidence, almost by accident.

Almost by a miracle.

A brave starship captain lays down their life to save an entire planet, millions of lives, because it is right, and at the last second is retrieved by advanced technology created by a society that cares.

Jonathan Sims does the best he can with the information he has, and he almost makes it out in the end.

Until he doesn't.

There is no other version of the story.

----

*I was being mostly facetious in this claim but a part of me actually really wants a low-stakes cozy romantasy in this setting. I can't write that type of stake to save my life (even my fanfiction has to have something life-threatening, so no butterflies for me) so if that prompt strikes your fancy, feel free to steal it and modify however needed. Just... let me know if you ever finish it.

JONATHAN ARCHIVIST IS NOT STUPID SQUAD I WILL ALWAYS BE WITH YOU

[ceresun]

hii queen i suck ass at creativity but i was wondering if u'd write some daeho hc's abt him and reader in the games tg? like maybe they dated before or smth but rekindle in the games? probably like angst ig or wtv 🙏

(i'm sorry i suck at writing requests 😣)

traces lost to time

pairing : kang daeho x gender neutral! reader

summary : Aware of those who had people they loved participating in these death games, he felt quite bad for them. But never once did he think he’d have to experience their reality of constant worry. At least not up until you show up.

extra : hai nonnie! thank you sososo much for the request :3!! ajebfkwbdka hopefully you like it!! I can feel like I wrote way more than just hcs but whatever.. daeho may be ooc ergh. this isn’t proofread and I’m bad at angst sorryz

⟢ A relationship with Daeho would have to be a strong one before he can think about someone in a romantic sense, so I see this being a childhood friends to lovers situation. Being this close with him means he’d naturally feel like he could tell you anything without any fear of judgement from you. Yet, this still didn’t stop him from keeping parts of himself hidden. This is genuinely one of the only reasons I can see a relationship with Daeho going downhill.

⟢ His father was always a traditional one. The constant reprimands of never being “a real man” and being too soft weren’t ones Daeho was unfamiliar with. Being childhood friends with him, you knew what his father was like. The younger you didn’t put much thought into his words, yet still comforted Daeho when he was visibly upset by his fathers words. But as you grew older and the times his father reprimanded him grew, you found it difficult to ignore how Daeho would get quieter and the way he’d try to stop his eyes from tearing up.

⟢ After his time in the marines, you couldn’t stop but notice the little difference in him. The way he’d tense up slightly when hearing a loud noise before going back to doing what he had been doing, or the way you’d wake up at random times in the night to hear his muffled cries, only stopping himself when he heard your shuffles. He had never been one to do those things, at least not before his time in the marines.

⟢ You, being Daeho’s closest friend and partner, would want to get him to open up with you about how he truly feels. Yet you’d only be faced with rejection. He didn’t necessarily mean to block you out, but he couldn’t stand to face you during this low period in his life. Thus causing you to leave.

⟢ At this point, Daeho kind of knew he had screwed up. It only hit him hard when he was able to regain some stability in his life. You were essentially his anchor yet he was still drifting and lost at sea. Following this, his life slowly starts getting worse and worse. He starts racking up a debt that he isn’t able to pay back. So, when a man comes up to him and offers him the ability to earn money while seemingly only having to play simple games, he takes him up on his offer.

⟢ It isn’t until everyone is waiting for the first game to start when he finally sees you. It’s been quite a while since he’s seen you, so he hesitates to come up and talk to you. It isn’t until he hears you talk to the woman next to you that he realizes it actually is you. He only gets to walk to where you stood before the games abruptly start. When people start getting killed, his first thought isn’t his safety, but instead yours. When gi-hun advises people to get behind those bigger than them he immediately pulls you behind him. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since you’d left, so seeing him shocked you quite a bit. As soon as you two cross that finish line he is all over you and making sure you weren’t hurt in any way. You have to practically yell at him to get his attention.

⟢ From there on, you’re not leaving his sight for even a second. Don't even think about trying to join a team without him because he will not let you. It’s not a want to have control over you but instead a fear of losing you that makes him like this. He tries his absolute hardest to make sure the both of you make it out of these games alive, yet it still wasn’t enough. During mingle, as soon as the number is called your group starts running towards a vacant room. In the midst of all the chaos, someone had pushed you out of the way in order to secure a spot themselves.

⟢ You had only a couple seconds left as you got up and ran towards the door. It wasn’t until the door had locked when Daeho realized you weren’t in the room with them. He didn’t exactly know what he felt at that moment. It was a big mix of anger, hurt, and emptiness. This would be one just one of the things that’d cause him to spiral. You best believe he is going insane on the person who had pushed you. He wouldn’t kill them, just beat them hard.

⟢ He’d ultimately be determined to make it out of the games alive for both of you. One of his biggest regrets is never really making up for what had happened between you two. He’ll never truly be able to get that closure. But there’s nothing he can do now.

© ceresun >ᴗ< -> my works are not to be translated or reposted without permission!

[jewelsli]

The Batkids all think that Bruce follows his no-kill-code extremely closely while Jason and like… most of them have broken it. Oh how wrong they are.

Especially before Dick was adopted the Bat regularly killed, he hades being judge jury and executioner but he sees the need to on many occasions. When Dick came along all bright and happy (and very very angry) he made up some baloney about not killing anyone so the kid wouldn’t off half of the Gotham rogues should he get the chance.

While none of the Batkids really know about this most of Gotham does, they just think that the civilians are mixing unsolved murderers(that are all a result of Bruce) and the Bats scariness and general antisocial tendencies up.

But Gotham is right, the Bat will kill those that he seems unredeemable, and while he doesn’t try to do it often, the numbers have gotten terrifying for the criminal world over time. When no colorful sidekicks are around the Bat hits harder and faster, and no matter what ANYONE says yes he CAN and WILL use a gun on you. People who traffick metas, children, and people in general find their leaders gone with not even a speck of blood on the scene(he doesn’t usually kill the workers unless they continue).

As for why he doesn’t kill the rogues? He’s TRIED many times to kill the worst of them, but somehow the joker just keeps coming back??? Besides he knows some of them aren’t all bad(Harley, ivy, and dent). The biggest factor though is that then his kids would know, and he wants to try and keep what little respect for him so they don’t go on a murder spree (again, yea Jason we are talking about you).

Bonus:

Bruce, on truth serum and not happy about it:

Jason, who want to mess with him: So B, tell me why I should be following your no-kill rule (they had already asked many more questions and he had never been given a straight answer to this before)

Bruce: I honestly don’t care if you do

Dick: Wait wha-

Bruce, continuing: You’ve proven that when you aren’t on a rampage you only kill when absolutely necessary, and I don’t see a problem with that.

Jason:… I guess that makes sense-

Bruce: Besides I’ve killed for less

Batfam:

Batfam:

Tim: Bruce what the fu-

[voidwizardwholikestheshadows]

I’ve decided I want to say something. I’m going to try to see things equally as I talk about it but I will acknowledge my bias toward Tommy. He is and has been a favorite creator of mine and I want people to know that I acknowledge that I might say bias things and to take that into account.

I watched Dream’s stream three times. Once when Dream streamed, Kwite’s stream and Tubbo’s stream. I also would like to acknowledge that they both tried to give him the benefit of the doubt many times and Kwite and Tubbo tried to reach out to him. Also my apologies if I miss anything important in the stream, please just let me know if any of what I say is incorrect.

Firstly and foremost, I will say that Tommy should have backed down with the pedo jokes or stopped altogether. It just doesn’t look good, I’m sorry. I have watched Dream’s “The Truth” video before and tried to look into it myself and I honestly don’t believe that those allegations are true.

I will say that I am not in any way, shape or form okay with telling someone to kill themselves. It’s just not who I am and I don’t like how widespread of a thing that is nowadays. I understand other Tommy fans are upset but god fucking damn it that’s not okay to do toward anyone. I made this post earlier but leave Techno’s name out of this. I am absolutely disgusted by the fans that made “Dream SA” comments toward his fans and how he was going to SA them. It’s gross and you don’t look like a good person.

I have my grievances with Tommy fans but that’s not what I wanna say right now. I didn’t like when Dream was making any sort of sexual remark toward any of the minors. Like in this stream with Tubbo’s sister around 39:55 to 40:02, he made a weird joke about her respawning in Vik’s house. Idk if anyone else cares but that made me uncomfy personally, there was no need to say that. Or this Dream and Tommy interaction, maybe this isn’t as much of a big deal, they were friends and Tommy joked about it but it made me uncomfortable. I would like to specify again that these are my personal grievances with Dream. Or when Tommy joined the server for the first time and Dream and George had him do the crafting table bit which was a reference to sex, that was not cool, Tommy was 16, a minor, it just doesn’t feel okay to me at all. Also he had no clue what the joke was, he did what they asked him to do. Those are my main examples of that.

Also Dream skipping over all the important criticisms that Tubbo was giving him only to act shocked at not having context. It kind of irked me, I don’t know if it was done on purpose or not but either way, Tubbo reacted to the whole thing and Dream couldn’t be asked to do the same, slightly disappointing.

His statement on Aimsey really made me upset. Calling them a mastermind when they only tried to support their friend was a very odd choice. I have no knowledge on the George drama if anyone does please let me know.

Saying people hated him for playing a villain character on the Dsmp is kinda crazy. I believe that most fans can differentiate reality from fiction. No, I don’t think that’s why people dislike you Dream, when watching Tubbo’s stream he mentioned that Dream seemed to skip over the important bits of their phone call to focus on the smallest thing. Whether that was done on purpose or not is just not cool. If he wants people to form their own opinions and look into the facts themselves, at the very least give everyone the full facts.

Dream’s mention of the nsfw artwork posted in the discord in the early days of the SMP… I honestly don’t care what anyone else has to say on this point, it is his server and his responsibility to make sure the minors in the server are safe and not exposed to anything. Showing or allowing minors to see nsfw shit is a Crime. I’m sorry to say but that’s a fucking crime. I know Dream didn’t show it but if Tubbo was uncomfortable, it’s his job to make sure that stops. If nobody else was going to be the responsible adult, it’s his discord server and his Minecraft server, he should have some say if not have all the say in keeping minors safe. Even if they asked to be treated like adults which Tubbo doesn’t remember saying at all, YOU DONT TREAT MINORS LIKE ADULTS IN THAT WAY, THAT IS A CRIME.

And at the heart of it all. The R slur. Reclaiming a slur is for deweaponizing the slur. You can Not reclaim a slur by using it against a group of people, that’s the opposite of reclaiming, that’s just using the slur as a slur. I am not down for ANYONE using slurs they can’t reclaim or are weaponizing it. I am not for people calling Dream slurs when all that went down, it’s not okay. I will agree with Tubbo that his drama did kinda outgrow the MCYT community. Different communities have different tolerances on what can and can not be said, I don’t agree with it but that’s the truth. If there were a lot of people in the MCYT community throwing slurs around, I personally don’t want them here. Using slurs if you are weaponizing it is not fucking okay.

These are my personal opinions and thoughts and why I dislike Dream. I’m sorry if this upsets anyone, etc, etc. I might edit this later if I think of anything else.

[obeymeluv]

Octavinelle w a Southern!Reader? A lot of the pet names and the common phrases are pretty affectionate and soft, so I think seeing the more composed bunch get exposed to such a sweet reader would be cute!

Before we begin, two notes: 1) I will also be playing with the creature traits of the Octo Trio as I see fit. 2) I personally call the three "Corelians" because they're from the Coral Sea. I am from the South so hopefully I answer this to your liking, haha. Sweet is a loaded term to me. Sweet is both the first taste of wispy cotton candy dissolving on your tongue and the sugar-coated demise of 'Oh my god, this is so good! I should really stop. Ah, fuck it. I'll deal with it later,' knowing you're going to complain about the miserable overload in an hour. If you have any kind of serving/retail/waitressing experience (especially in the south), you'll also know that 'sweet' is kill them with kindness and scream in the walk-in when you can't kill them for real. As for the Octo Trio? Have some random blurbs :)

Two of Azul's three hearts are sent cartwheeling and quivering when you so much as look at him! He doesn't know what to do with you! You're...you're so nice! In truth, he doesn't get you because he can't seen an ulterior motive or an end game. Part of the reason he can't understand you is because there IS NO END GAME. How does that work? He doesn't understand it. The only thing he understands is that your many ludicrous pet names make him writhe and wiggle and question the efficacy of that damnable lander potion! Surely they wouldn't cheap out on quality and compromise the future of a bright, young entrepreneur, right? He can mock them all he wants, his face smushed into his hand, but it doesn't stop his cheeks from reddening. You made him disgustingly warm inside and he has to use short words before the ink starts to pool in his mouth (the tweels noticed that and take great joy in it). "Yes, they're all so terrible. Terrible enough to make you rant," Jade muses as they settle into a brief respite with tea before opening the Mostro Lounge for the afternoon. "Frequently." "More like say 'em in the mirror as a pep-talk," Floyd boots the door open with a mocking laugh, gold eye shining as he flops down on the couch. He effortlessly catches the spill, much like he'll flip an omelet without looking, and keeps his eyes trained on Azul like the prey he is. Azul felt the heat rise in his cheeks and his chest. His feet untangled themselves subconsciously as his reduced limb-brains tried to figure out which one was close enough to bop Floyd. Jade leaned forward and pressed the cup handle against his palm to quash the punching instinct and remind the limb it was full. He snorted, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. "Isn't that right, sugar dumplin'?" Floyd flashed a toothy smile at him as Jade stuck an empty pen in his mouth to stop him from drooling ink into his tea. Floyd knew that one was his favorite.

---

The Corelian-Land Exchange Program prepared him for a lot of unique human experiences but didn't prepare Floyd for you. But that's to be expected because there is no chapter on 'dimensional strangers' in the curriculum. He's constantly having to remind himself of things like less resistance on land so the fights are in his favor. Or that he's not as fluid when he turns and those pinky thingies hurt like a BITCH and he doesn't see why he can't just cut it off because it HOOKS ON EVERY FUCKING THING. He also has to remind himself that hunting instincts are rude here. You don't stalk people, you meet them. But you're just so nice and bob along! It almost seems wrong not to keep an eye on you, what with how small you are. That's what he tells himself, anyways. He doesn't know quite how to describe it but your sweet words are funny with their little dips and drawls. They call him like something shiny and give him this burst of energy that makes him want to fling his long limbs out and twirl like a whirlpool. You can tell when he needs encouragement and aren't afraid to clamp up and be cold when he doesn't deserve any coddling. You call yourself a southerner and he's not quite sure what you mean because you have no home here and no one knows what direction your home is in. You and the apple-toting Guppy are a lot alike but Floyd doesn't get the same kind of feelings out of following him or plopping an arm down on his head. Matter of fact, the last time he plopped an arm down on Guppy's head, Guppy put him between some tree roots with a fancy shoulder toss Beta Fish taught 'im.

But when he does it to you? It's always different--just like him. Some days it's linking your elbows together and joking that he's stuck with you now. Other days you just wrap an arm around his middle and hug him for a few seconds where his cold-blood self squirms in the warm casing being incubated by you. On the rare and very amusing occasion that you aren't in the mood when his arm touches your head, you give him a warning smile before nipping at him. It doesn't hurt, honestly. Hardly enough to feel through fabric. Nothing at all to a Corelian predator. Cute for trying, though. He doesn't dare tell you that his blood can make humans sick.

Floyd just leans down and grins at you, ignoring the bit of fabric in your teeth, and whispers 'My turn,' just enough to show you all his glistening, pointy teeth. You always let go and he always bites air, but his legs are damn near knotting themselves together in glee at the thought of you letting him mark you for real. You scurry down the hall as Jade weaves himself between the students, following the scent of his many emotions. Landers had a theory about twins being connected; that's one of the first things he learned about them. Jade didn't see the whole scene but seems to know enough.

"Morays are opportunistic cowards at best, my dear brother. Don't feel bad." Jade gives him a closed-lip and a closed-eyed smile. And just like that, like when they were elvers, he and his brother are tangled and biting.

----

Jade knows it's a baser instinct to keep an eye on someone not like him. Not only from a safety standpoint but in the vein of him being the perceived threat to your...benign. He can't help but laugh and see you as soft when you're trying to hide your ragged gasps for breath as he turns to observe your footing on the incline. He was more comfortable in his lander form now and thought this would be an easier trail for you to navigate, coming from a foreign land and all.

Perhaps he was wrong.

But still, to see you struggle and flush, to see your hair come undone just a touch as you begin to glisten is quite a sight. It reminds him all over again that you're human like these landers on Sage's Island but you're not one of these landers, exactly.

You're the only one of your kind. The rarest of rare specimen.

You push up the incline, fixing your hair as you breeze past, and excitedly point to a patch of greens Ruggie told you about before. They are edible and coming home with you! You know how to prepare them!

Something ugly and gnashing wells up in Jade. Makes him want to suck the little Savanaclaw mongrel up in his pharyngeal jaws but he doesn't have them in this form.

Mmm, but he's thinking about the wrong jaws, isn't he? A bit rude to be thinking about his. It's best to put nutrition in yours. Yes, yes, that's very good. Jade's smile almost twitches as his back spasms where one of his more active fins would be. "Greens are a bit of an insult compared to the bounty of the Mostro," he lets you slide down the incline with barely a pull as he grinds his walking stick into said patch of greens. "Though no less important. Come, I'll even make you tea." "But what about the hike? It's only been, like, thirty minutes!" Most of that was waiting on you to traverse the terrain, but still! Jade didn't even have a single mushroom to show for it! Jade prides himself on his composure and quick wit. Here lately he's been applauding himself for holding onto all of it--any of it--around you. You have no magic but seem to do something akin to his signature spell. "There's more moisture in the air," he grips his walking stick and surprises even himself with the smooth stumble of his words, "there's rain coming. I can smell it." That did sound plausible to your lander self. He could see you contemplating it. Was it really going to rain? Who knew. The weather on Sage's Island was as unique as it's occupants. Your relent is reluctant but Jade pays that no mind as he stamps down an errant root and taps your foot politely away from it. "What a gentleman!" you tease, kind needling almost costing you a face full of green leaf from a bent tree. He chuckles as you bat the leaves from your face in a fit of self-preservation.

The flailing really is quite adorable.

You huff at his laugh and stomp almost petulantly after him to the flat and familiar of Sage's Island, the impressive point of the college a mere smear in the distance. After a near twenty minute walk, you change generously in Mostro Lounge's bathrooms (as in: Floyd annoys Azul enough to keep him unaware) and clean up enough to meet dress code, cramming your hiking things under the table. Floyd catches you, you both know. He knows the deal. What you don't know is that he waits for you to bat your eyes at him like you'll inevitably do and he revels in it. Mostly because his mushroom-huffing brother doesn't know what to do when you do that, but he thinks your eyes are pretty too. Jade coughs into his hand.

When that doesn't get the desired result, he gently turns you into your side of the booth and seats himself. There's a bristling only known between brothers and those who have a territorial bone in them. Floyd smirks and checks his brother's fingers for signs of webbing or claws. "What're ya havin'?" Jade lets you order first, of course. He orders next, not even bothering to grab a menu Floyd didn't offer. "And for drinks?" "That's supposed to be first, brother dear." Jade smiles. "Actually, appetizers first." he snorts. "I'll be making her some tea, actually." Jade excuses himself and walks in-step with his brother to the kitchen. "Makin' time for tea but no time for truth, heh?" Floyd's eyes are suddenly sharp and Jade growls. Jade realizes this is an unsafe situation as there are many knives around them. He's just as keen with a pot if it's all the same. The thought crosses his mind. "Gonna feed her before ya confess? Seems I'm not the only one who does things out of order, huh?" "I am providing." Jade hisses, opening his mouth wide.

"Best remember to provide some dish pit time because you owe me." Floyd taunts. "I covered your tail and got your little lander love a table!" In that moment, Floyd doesn't know why he turned his back. It felt good, maybe? Felt right for the moment? All he knew is that one hand full of menus didn't do anything against a hefty grab to the back of his neck as he was almost shoved into the hot water part of said dish pit. "How much time would you like?" Jade mused, bracing one arm against the other as he leaned his weight into his brother.

"Ah shut up and go make your leaf juice!" Floyd tries to nip him as he wriggles beneath his brother, only one set of shoes fit for the kitchen. Satisfied, Jade relents. It may cost him somewhere down the line but in this moment he's happy. Happy and put together and providing. Just for you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Luke x hades!reader

Luke is good, no betrayal, everything fine, just happy happy happy.

‘Okay, since when were you going to tell me you and Nico are siblings?’ Luke asked one day and immediately your brows furrowed in question.

‘Siblings? Since when because as far as I’m concerned he’s not.’ You tell him as you continued to eat your breakfast, thinking that would be enough to stop Luke from spouting more nonsense into your ear.

Luke scoffs. ‘From what I’ve heard through the grapevine is that you both give off that mean side eye. One that screams get the fuck away from me or I’ll kill you, bring you back, only to then kill you again.’ He says as he steals a strawberry from your plate, popping it into his mouth, only to then trying not to choke on it when he saw that you were giving him the side eye that you were most well known throughout camp for.

Other people would’ve scurried off from being such a look by now but Luke was a little bit different, Luke only smiles and laughs behind his hand as his other hand sympathetically pats the back of yours. ‘There’s the award winning glare of yours or should I say yours and Nico’s now.’ He says after successfully not choking on a singular strawberry, but you weren’t as amused as he was, he had just insinuated that you and Nico were related before following up in stealing your food; what a prick.

‘That’s not funny Luke you owe me a strawberry now.’ You replied as your eyes found the Italian boy in question from across the dining pavilion, seeing absolutely nothing that could bring the theory that you were both somewhat related, because as far as you were aware the boy hadn’t yet been claimed and even still you’d like to think you’d see the signs beforehand that could indicate a connection between you and the young lad.

Luke threw an arm over your shoulder as he brought you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand rubbed at your arm. ‘You can have as many of my strawberries next time if that’s a good trade off for a single and lonely strawberry, yeah?’ You sighed as you rested your head against him, slightly tucked under his chin. ‘Sure.’ You grunted as Luke’s smile stretched further across his face as he was quick to notice where your eyes were.

‘The next time you see Nico, watch his face and then you’ll see why people are saying your siblings in giving people death glares and mean side glances.’ He whispered to you when he could tell that the curiosity was the primary emotions that you felt in this moment and time and he couldn’t blame you, if someone was telling him that he shared a death glare or side eye with someone else being playfully called his sibling, he’d be a little curious too to see if the proof was in the pudding.

The rest of breakfast played out like usual and went by without issue as you and Luke went your separate ways, though not without Luke insisting that he had to kiss you on the forehead, though you found yourself watching Nico like a hawk in hopes of seeing what everyone else was seeing but nothing of much really happed where you got to see this death glare of his.

You were just about to give up and call it a day, feeling a little stupid for believing in what others have to say other then listening to your own gut and to ignore what was being said, thinking that the person who started such a rumour was only doing it for the fun of it.

That was until you saw it.

The death flare Luke had talked about earlier that morning.

Whatever the camper said must’ve annoyed Nico or have been so stupid that his brows furrowed and the steely look within his onyx eyes that screamed ‘I have your murder planned out along with your funeral arrangements if you don’t fuck off.’ It was exactly how you imagined you looked when put in a similar position, and now everything made sense as you crossed your arms over your chest as the camper scampered away from Nico, who was still watching after them.

‘Well I’ll be damned.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘We do share something after all.’

‘I told you.’ Luke said as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing you to give him a glare that matched the one Nico had on his face towards that poor unfortunate camper seconds prior.

‘You done patting yourself on the back?’ You asked him rhetorically as he only smiled smugly at you.

‘Nope, you might as well go down there and welcome your sibling with open arms.’ He responded cheerily as he continued to look at you as though he was the cat that caught the canary, or a mischievous fox that had one last trick up its sleeve.

You playfully shoved Luke away from you with a scoff. ‘If only it were that simple Castellan but unless I see the sigil of my father above his head, cabin 13 still belongs to me and me alone.’ You told him.

Nico was claimed by hades not even a day after you said this.

Luke was in hysterics and on the verge of tears when he looked at your face, now realising that Nico was now indeed your little sibling in more than just teasing fashion.

[fandombandomfics]

If I Killed Someone For You? (Salesman x female!reader)

Y/N’s POV 

My boyfriend…he isn’t the most conventional person. When he told me what he does for a living, I was taken aback. He recruits people who are in an insane amount of debt to play ddajki to win money. When they play enough rounds, he gives them a card to play in the Squid Games. I didn’t like the idea, didn’t really talk to him for a few days to process what he said. It has been a few days since I saw him, now we are grabbing dinner together since his work is done. 

“Recruiting done?” I ask, as I sip my wine. He nods, taking a sip from his own glass. His black hair slicked back as usual. His brown eyes gaze into mine, looking exhausted yet still put together. 

“Yeah finally, it’s always draining this time of year,” He says and I nod. Yeah sending people to their deaths. 

“I’m sure it is…glad it’s over,” I say 

“Yeah I get to spend time with my favorite girl,” He says with a soft smile. I smile back and give him a small nod. 

“Gong Yoo, do you feel guilty about what you do?” I ask and the tension in the air increases. He stops mid cut of his steak and slowly raises his eyes to look at me. 

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t,” He says, a glint going over his eyes. Something in his eyes changed, something….dangerous. 

“You don’t feel an ounce of guilt?” I ask, seeing the look in his eyes not changing. He smirks at me and leans back into his chair. 

“Those pathetic human beings went into debt themselves, I simply just gave them a nudge,” He explains and I shift in my seat. Listen, knew my boyfriend was crazy but this is a whole new level. 

“They are still human being,” I say and he scoffs. 

“Listen here darling,” He starts, getting up from his chair and walks over to me.  As if he is a predator about to pounce on his next meal.

“Those humans are in such debt they won’t be able to pay it off in their lifetime. I simply gave them an opportunity to pay it off,” He explains further, cupping my face with his hands. 

“By sending them to their deaths,” I say plainly. He chuckles, the glint in his eyes becoming darker as he continues to speak.

“That’s simply up to them,” He emphasizes the last part with his dramatic change in tone. He tightens his grip on my face slightly, making sure I have no choice but to look at him. 

“How can you be so ok with it?” I ask and he chuckles, a dark menacing chuckle. 

“Oh darling, you knew who you were getting involved with when we started dating,” He says, his tone dropping low and rough. I look up at him, my eyes gazing into his. The look in his eyes was a mix of lust, love, and contemptment. How can he be so content in being compliant in their deaths?

Later that night 

As I get ready for bed, my conversation with Gong plays in my head. The look in his eyes, the chuckle, it’s all coming back to me. I sigh as I finish doing my nighttime routine. When I exit the bathroom, Gong looks up from the book he was reading. 

“Ready for bed my love?” He asks and I nod, walking over to him. Before I could react, he throws me on the bed. My back hits the softness of the mattress as he hovers over me, pinning my arms down to the bed. 

“Gong what are you doing?” I ask. He studies my face, as if he was remembering every detail of it. 

“I need to ask you a question and answer me truthfully darling,” He says, caressing my cheek with his thumb. I nod, wondering what question he could possibly ask me.

“If I killed someone for you, would you love me more?” He asks and I’m taken aback by this question. 

“Gong I–,” “Answer the question,” He says, more like demands. The look in his eyes is telling me to answer him truthfully and quickly. My mind goes a million miles a minute, the more I find myself leaning towards the answer I never thought would ever leave my lips. 

“Yes…” I say and he grins, no more like smirks. 

“That's what I thought darling,” He says before capturing my lips into a heated kiss. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the feeling of his lips on mine. He smirks against them before pulling away. 

“I’m taking my time with you tonight,” He says, his voice low and husky, I feel a shiver down my spin. Tonight is gonna be a long night. 

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

More TexAid Mecha AU-AU stuff!

No warnings for once - Vortex doesn't get to mangle anyone. Poor boy...

Also the Combaticon playlist is here; https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3pyBRAuoKYDEpAFaTm9j5j?si=bf63cc6e018d4ab9 It's very nostalgic to me so it was fun to make!

He got what he wanted. He thought. That’s what he was telling himself, at least – he got Vortex to stop fucking killing people.

The pilots uniform sat awkwardly on him. He didn’t have the muscle the other pilots did, the bulk to their frame that made it sit handsomely on them. He’d always been described as a twig of a boy growing up, and he didn’t fill out much as he grew into his skeleton. Stood in front of the mirror, he missed his medics uniform. It really didn’t suit him.

The back of his head hurt. The surgery had been quick – he had a suspicion Pharma didn’t use as much anaesthetic as he should have, he felt every movement of the scalpel, every connection of the nerves. He tried hard to ignore it and not inspect the swollen, angry flesh with his bare hands.

Spiteful bastard. He hadn’t spoken to him since he’d thrust his transfer documentation into his hands. His lips had been pressed tightly together, locking in the words he was desperate to say. First Aid thought it might have had something to do with the fact that Fortress Maximus was right behind him.

The other pilots treated him like a pariah. First Aid supposed that he was – the mech he piloted was reported to be haunted. The aftermath was graphic. He had been tasked with cleaning it, and now he was the next sacrificial lamb. There was no point in breaking bread with him – he’d be a dead man soon enough. Every time he stepped out whole was pure luck – he didn’t have the training, there was no skill involved. It was only a matter of time until the hourglass ran out and he’d be scrubbed from the cracks with a toothbrush like everyone else was.

Lunch was a lonely affair. Dinner was even lonelier. He ate breakfast in his room on his own – a benefit of being a pilot was having your own room, but he wished more than anything that he had a roommate. Someone who would be forced to talk to him, to take the edge off the loneliness.

The only social interaction he had was Vortex, and even that was limited. Nobody liked for anyone to get too close to him unnecessarily, First Aid included – but for fucks sake it was his mech, who were they to tell him that he wasn’t allowed to go near it?

The exception to the apathy was Perceptor. Every time he saw him, the man was studying him from afar like he were an animal at a safari. The confrontation would come soon enough – he had been the only one to notice that he was there that day he’d stolen the uniform. He must have known what he’d done, put the pieces together with ease. It wasn’t hard – he’d caught the medic red handed in the pilots quarters, and then not long after he’d mysteriously been in possession of a pilots suit and had been dragged by the cuff out of Vortex upon return to the Shatterdome. Honestly, it was childs play.

Dinner that evening played out as usual. First Aid sat down as far away as he could from everyone else, and not long after the other occupants of the table started to leave like he was diseased. He poked at his dinner – apparently, pilots received meals that were far more varied and clearly had a bigger budget than the ones served in the medics quarters did, but still pretty dire and bland – and wondered what he’d read that evening. His legs still hurt from training, and as his implants were still healing he wasn’t allowed to get back into his mech yet, so he’d had to ignore the sirens – his name was still popping up on the board of pilots being summoned, and he could see an aura of rage simmering around Vortex every time. He’d made a point to look apologetic at the cameras and vaguely gesture to the back of his head – connecting now would fry him to the point where they’d never connect again. There wouldn’t be enough time in the drop for him to show him everything he wanted to – Vortex would run out of fuel and he’d die of dehydration before they got to the point of being satisfied. He would have to be patient.

A tray clattered down opposite him. First Aid flinched, and looked up in surprise.

Perceptor.

He subtly glanced around them – nobody was paying them any attention. They were in their own bubble of privacy in the crowd, their words obscured by passing conversations.

“Felix Anwyl, correct?”

“Uhm. Yes? Can I help you? Do you require medical assistance?” He grimaced as his training kicked in – the wrong training. He wasn’t allowed to be a medic any more. Pharma had been extremely clear about that.

“I didn’t think you functioned as a medic.” Perceptor sat down opposite him, neatly folding his hands down on top of the table.

“Force of habit.”

“I see.” His eyes were intense, and First Aid felt like a mouse under the gaze of a hawk. Suddenly, he realised why he was the only ultra-long distance pilot.

“I was a big fan of you as a kid. Collected all the trading cards and stuff.”

Perceptor ignored him. “I was curious about what kind of person you were. Sneaking into the pilots quarters, stealing a suit just to get into a mech. At first I thought you were just some gullible young fool who fancied themselves a hero, that you’d bought into the idea of piloting being some glamorous lifestyle, but that’s not quite it, is it?”

“He was killing them.” First Aid quietly replied. He wanted to look away from the eyes that were looking straight through him, but he couldn’t. “He’d made it clear what he wanted, but nobody would listen – I couldn’t stand any more people dying. Just because they’re cadets, doesn’t make it okay to sacrifice them like that.”

“He?”

“Vortex.”

“You’re talking as if it’s actually alive.”

“Haven’t you heard the rumours?” First Aid quirked a brow. “That he’s haunted?”

“Ghosts don’t exist.”

“You’re not very fun.” First Aid poked at his mashed potato. “Fine. Call it the Tamagotchi effect then, or anthropomorphism. I’m not a trained pilot, it’s different for me.”

“Your colleagues aren’t either, but none of them refer to Vortex as a ‘he’.”

“They’re terrified of… them.”

“And you’re not?”

He was, but not for the same reasons. “Not really.” It was like asking him if he was afraid of his reflection.

Perceptor hummed. He turned to his own dinner – he neatly chopped up his sausage with the blunt knives they’d been provided with and chewed carefully. First Aid felt himself fall into a sense of security, thinking it was over, and took a spoonful of his mashed potato.

“How did you learn to pilot, then?” He suddenly asked.

“Huh?”

“You said you’re not a trained pilot, and I know just by looking that you’re telling the truth. You’re a medic. Your clothes still smell of disinfectant and bleach. But the way your mech moves… That’s a fully trained veteran.”

“The AI kind of just… handles it all.” First Aid hoped his expression wasn’t too awful, he felt his face twitching. “I guess with how many pilots he’s had, he’s had plenty of time to memorise it all.”

“I suppose so.”

Perceptor didn’t ask about it again. He pulled out a paper to read, and First Aid had made the mistake of asking him a question about it in attempt to be polite. Thirty minutes later and he was still talking – the words had stopped making sense twenty-five ago.

One lunch time, he’d had enough of the solitary lifestyle he was being forced to lead and the lack of things to do with his hands since Pharma still hadn’t let him back into the medical bay and the brass had caught him running a clinic from his quarters. He grabbed his portion – it looked like it was some kind of soup today – the accompanying bread roll and fruit pot, filled his flask with coffee and marched down the catwalk, sitting himself directly in front of Vortex before popping the lid off and inspecting what the canteen had served that day. It was bright red. Obnoxiously so. He paused and checked the label again.

Yup. That sure was food, alright. Beetroot, beef, pork, assorted vegetables. The good stuff.

… He didn’t know beetroot could get that red.

Vortex’s cockpit popped open with a hiss. First Aid secured the lid back on and hopped on inside.

[WHAT DID YOU GET TODAY?] He asked. For a man without a mouth, he was always curious about what was for lunch.

“I have no idea what it is, but it is bright red.” First Aid replied, sitting down in the pilots seat and popping the lid back off again. He felt Vortex tremble as the cameras zoomed in on it.

[YOU’RE FLIRTING WITH ME NOW <3]

“You know what this is?” First Aid offered it to the camera. “It’s warm.”

[BORSCHT. YOU DON’T KNOW IT? PILOTS GET IT ALL THE TIME.]

“Medics don’t get fed so well.” First Aid made himself comfortable and took a curious sip. “Oh. That’s something.” He pulled a face.

[NOT TO YOUR TASTES?]

“I hate beetroot.” First Aid stuck his tongue out. He poked a lone piece of pork with his spoon. “It infects everything it touches with mud.”

[CHILD.]

“I would say you eat it then, but…”

The helmet loudly dropped, smacking him in the head. First Aid yelped, narrowing his eyes at the camera pointed at him. “Pot calling the kettle black much?”

[I CAN TASTE THROUGH YOU, YOU KNOW. PUT IT ON.]

The connection at the back of his head was mostly healed. It was safe, they could connect without any issues as of his check-up that morning - but he still hesitated. The marks on his arms felt hot.

[WHY THE HESITATION?]

[DON’T YOU WANT ME?]

“I don’t want to get into trouble again. Pilots aren’t meant to connect outside of combat.”

They’d been very clear to him on that. He’d been labelled a risk, a liability - he was abnormally attached to his mech. Swindle was starting to look at him funny - and if Swindle was noticing…

[PUSSY. I JUST WANT YOUR TONGUE. FINE, HOW ABOUT THIS.] The helmet disappeared up and another panel popped open. The service connection - engineers could connect using similar technology on tablets to diagnose issues with the mech faster. This was much more acceptable. [YOU WERE BITCHING ABOUT THAT PANEL IN MY FOOT. WANNA CHECK THEY DID THEIR JOB?]

“You’re so clever.” First Aid praised him. He hopped over with his soup, sitting against the wall as he let Vortex plug himself in. He had braced himself for pain and a jolt, the cleaving of his awareness in two, but it felt smooth as butter. A brush of fingers along the nape of his neck, the pressure of someone leaning on his shoulders and resting their chin on his head.

Vortex.

… That damn panel still wasn’t right.

“Borscht?” Vortex reminded him. He sounded more like a man than a machine now.

Obediently, he took another sip. He felt Vortex tremble as a memory pushed against his awareness, just out of reach - a vague sense of it ran through his fingers. A wooden table, dried sunflowers in a repurposed jug decorated in bright designs, hands that were clean and unmarked by years of self-inflicted hardship.

“Damn, that’s the good shit.”

First Aid had finished the whole bowl before he realised it, riding the wave of Vortex’s reaction. He hiccuped, firmly putting the lid back over the bowl.

“I still don’t get how you like that.”

“More for me. I suppose I have a more refined palette.”

“Didn’t you smoke? You probably couldn’t taste anything.”

“Heh. Excuses excuses~ You sound jealous.”

First Aid pouted. “Do not.”

“Do too. Come on, don’t be shy, I like it when you get a jealous streak.”

“When have I ever been jealous over you!” First Aid squeaked in embarrassment. Vortex rumbled, memories pushed against him - his face twisted in a shape he didn’t recognise when other people were cleaning him, other people were inside and scrubbing. He felt his cheeks warm.

“I was only jealous that they got to go near you.” He couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t look at the cameras that were all trained on him. “That was when I wasn’t allowed - remember? Because you kidnapped me.”

“Kidnap is a strong word. I prefer borrowed for a moment.”

“Thank you for not killing me that day.”

“You’re welcome? I guess?”

“Forgive me - you’re dubbed the blender for a reason.” He popped the lid of his coffee and took a big gulp – it had already started to go cold. It was vaguely lukewarm in a way that made him feel queasy, but he needed the caffeine.

“Black?”

“Americano, yeah.”

“I thought you’d have the sugary shit.”

“I saw what some of the other pilots were putting into their coffee and it scared me off of it, honestly.” He shuddered. “Did you know you can fit thirty three creamer pots into a pilots standard issue water bottle? I didn’t until I saw someone do it.”

“… That’s disgusting. Coffee flavoured cream at that point – just drink it from the carton. Doesn’t the shop here sell flavoured milk?”

“They had flavour syrup in there too.”

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

“Fucking hell.”

Swindle had this godawful idea of pilot interviews. The media were interested, and once the investors had caught wind of that their ears had perked up. Swindle saw coins falling from the sky, and had promptly agreed and cleared his diary. Making them seem more human brought in much more attention, and with attention came money and government contracts and more boots on the ground. It also brought in his favourite thing in the world; unpaid interns. The prestige would be enough of an incentive.

And so First Aid found himself with a docket shoved into his grease-stained hands as he worked on clearing out random debris from Vortex’s right knee – the mechanics were still afraid of him, and First Aid had an idea of what it was supposed to look like in there from when he’d been tasked with extracting a pilots thoracic vertebrae (T4 through to T6 only – he wasn’t sure how they’d even gotten there and he had never asked. The rest of her spine had gone missing), he was doing their job for them. Vortex was doing a stellar job of subtly shifting his plating out of the way to give First Aid better access – it was enough debris that it was pissing him off too.

“What’s this?” First Aid asked, putting it down on the table next to him before reaching back into the joint. He could see something in there, hard and transparent and vaguely blue. It was quintesson hard tissue – he’d have to call the hazard team in. What a pain. He gestured for his visitor to take a step back before reaching in and trying to get a good grip on it so he could tug it free.

No dice. He sighed, knowing he’d need to give Vortex some clear instructions on what he needed but not able to do it with an audience - he had left a walkie talkie up in the cockpit for him, but he knew damn well that it would cause a scene if he started nattering away into it.

So they got his attention instead. They were waiting with impatience thinly veiled with a smile and too-wide eyes. Someone from human resources, maybe? Media? Public relations? He didn’t know. They wouldn’t be hanging around long enough for it to really matter.

“It’s some papers for you to sign. For the interviews. So, you’re not on the interview list, but we did want to get some footage of you with your mech. Is that alright?”

First Aid looked up at Vortex as if expecting him to say something. He blinked at him before he realised he wouldn’t be saying a single whisper, and quickly looked back at them.

“I’m not getting interviewed?”

“Instructions from the big brass!”

“Right.” He wiped his hands down on a dirty rag and shoved it into his belt. “Sure. Fine, I guess. I’m just going to be digging around in his joints – he’s got some quintesson guts in there, so I’ll need hazard around. Is this going on TV? It will give a good show at least, right?”

Their eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

The cameras were obnoxious. The people behind them were worse.

Could you do that again? Can we get this person to do it? Turn your face this way, have your hair like that, take your jacket off, can you try it with your jacket on again but your feet like this?

Real fucking irritating. First Aid wanted them to just get lost. The hard tissue was still in there. Vortex was starting to get annoyed, and nobody wanted to find out how far he was willing to go for some peace and quiet. He’d called the hazard team well before the camera crew had arrived – and they still weren’t there. He could hear the creak in Vortex’s joints, the faint rumbling and vibrations of his systems gearing up, the tremors of plating desperate to move.

Solace came with Swindle, the cavalry marching in behind him. The hazard team. Finally. First Aid quickly scuttled up into the cockpit with a walkie-talkie in hand to play pretend at moving the mech so they could extract the hazardous tissue, covering his eyes to block out the obnoxiously bright flash of their cameras, and wondered if they’d keep his footage in. His parents would worry.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had a twink writhing.

If he still had a body, he’d be doing awful things to that man. His screams would be perfect, so loud and like music to his ears. And he knew that First Aid would have been thanking him, begging him for more through his tears the whole time. It was such a shame that the human body was so fragile. All he wanted was to be able to take him apart and put him back together after he was done so he could do it again. Over and over, until he was nothing more than a husk of a man.

And he would still be thanking him.

If god were real, he must have been smiling down at him for such a gift. If he were capable of love, he thinks that what it might be.

The tragedy was that he was being punished by finding First Aid too late. They should have been two ships passing at sea - Vortex knew that if anyone gained a single inkling of what First Aid was into when they should have, they’d have thrust him into the system to get lost and fade away into obscurity. A footnote on the family tree. That uncle that vanished as a child. Or maybe they’d pretend that he’d never have existed at all. But no, Felix had glided by unassumingly, his good nature and kind face a front, a shield against what was straining against the surface, shining through the cracks and splitting his skin.

Oh, what a joy it was to have him there with him. What fun it had been to watch him, to study him. The moment he’d seen First Aid chew his bottom lip, core temperature rising as he stared at the disembowelled remains of the first pilot he’d been tasked to excavate from him, he knew he had to have him.

He also knew this should have been working him up. He should have been whipped into a frenzy, unable to contain himself - but lacking any appropriate organ to produce any of the hormonal response that pushed him over the edge, Vortex was left feeling vaguely hollow and empty.

It really, really pissed him off.

Why had they kept him alive if they were just going to waste him like this? It was torture. It was the worst thing he could ever think of.

And it was, annoyingly, the perfect punishment. He’d begrudgingly give those researchers that – they’d achieved their goals on that front. Creative ways to stretch out death row, Vortex had called it at the time. If you asked him now, he’d say that they just gave him a bigger body to create a wonderful slaughter with, but the anger at the situation would be simmering beneath the surface. It was fun popping someone like a grape, but he couldn’t hear their breath whistling out from what remained of their thorax any more.

All he could do all day in between waiting for fights and splitting alien life forms in half with his bare hands was nose around at the cameras and browse the internet.

For such a high security base, their internet security was pathetic. A couple days of poking around at it and he’d been in, briefly toying with the idea of taking down the base and watching them scramble around like the ants they were, before instead heading over to YouTube and seeing if there was anything worth catching up on.

The news announcements about him and his teams deaths had been amusing. Very, very amusing.

But today, he settled on the cameras. He had fun games he’d made to entertain himself with, creating false stories and dramas – he’d spent a lot of time whilst he was still alive figuring out peoples brains, what made them tick, how to get them to tell you exactly what you wanted without them noticing they were even doing it, so he considered his fantasies to be gospel – and looking for people.

He’d always hunted down First Aid. The man had just the cutest face, and he wanted to see how many different expressions he could make. The bad ones, the good ones, the really good ones – god above, especially the really good ones – everything. It was a fun game to catalogue them all, to guess what had been said or done to him to make him look like that. Thinking of ways to replicate it. He wanted him to look at him like that. He wanted him to just look at him.

It had only been a few weeks and already First Aid was as obsessed with him as he was. Mutual obsession was always the best. Matching the energy was so much more fun than watching them tremble and cry knowing they’d just make the bad kind of fucking mess.

The man was excitedly asking Vortex if he’d seen that, preening at something he’d done on the field, eyes sparkling and wide. Looking at him, you’d have been forgiven for thinking he was talking about seeing something as marvellous as a pod of whales arching out of the water instead of the pristine harvest of an alien organ that he was actually talking about. If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging hard enough to sprain.

God, he wanted to make him his.

He wouldn’t share. He couldn’t. He’d never been any good at it.

First Aid even came to eat lunch with him. Vortex had called him ‘some kind of loser’ the third time he’d done it, and First Aid had looked like such a kicked puppy he’d never done it again.

He’d thought about it, but he wouldn’t. He’d promised, and his little man had made it clear how highly he valued promises. It wouldn’t do to upset him, he’d grown rather attached.

And having something to do that involved someone else for once wasn’t actually half bad.

Being interred into a mech was a strangely lonely existence. His snippets of social interaction had come in the form of the human sacrifices they’d offered up to him, cocky and overzealous and never recognising that they were sat in his jaws and ready to be consumed. He would never ever admit it, but having First Aid there to actually speak to was… nice. It was a break from the monotony of pushing IT’s buttons and seeing how ruffled he could get the brass to be in just a single sentence.

He hated being forced to stay still. He’d had practice at it, sure - their line of work didn’t come without its fair share of hazards and they were no strangers to bed rest. Fuck, the longest he’d had to entertain himself was when he’d been on the bad end of a grenade - Brawl had tugged him out of the wreckage missing a healthy chunk of his face, blood pulsing down in a fiery heat he didn’t soon forget. His poor handsome looks had been destroyed in an instant - at least the nurses had been nice to him. If it was because they were scared of him or if it was because Swindle was paying them handsomely he didn’t know and he didn’t particularly care - it had the same result. Endless telenovelas in a language he didn’t understand, with a TV he wasn’t able to adjust. He woke up to the opening jingles, and he fell asleep to the ending songs.

He took having to find his own entertainment over that. At least he could set the language.

And today’s entertainment: watching Swindle.

It was weird watching him from cameras. Usually it was the other way around - Swindle would work his way up into their security rooms and then watch the rest of them from the cameras, guiding them around and warning them of any danger. Instead, he was a silent witness, watching his every move. He was on his phone, nattering away into it as he walked with his coffee. A fun game Vortex liked to play was voicing over him - the cameras didn’t come with any audio, so he was left to fill the blanks.

He paused when he saw his mouth clearly form the word ‘Felix’.

Huh. What did Swindle have to say about him? Good things, Vortex hoped. They were more alike than Swindle ever liked to admit - surely he had to see the beauty in First Aid too. But actually - he hoped he didn’t. First Aid was his. He found him, he had done all the hard work. Felix wasn’t someone he was going to share. He’d do what it took to keep him forever.

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

I’ve tried to word and reword this post at least a dozen times. I’m not sure I’ll ever quite capture what Charles means to me in one attempt, but here goes:

That scene on the side of the agency where Charles is asking Edwin what would happen if death caught them was probably the moment I decided I loved him- same hat, I thought. I have racing thoughts and fears of being separated from my loved ones too. 

Same hat.

I didn’t realize what an understatement that was. 

We made it to the Devlin house episode. As Charles talked about his favorite tape being destroyed and struggled through reading the Devlin daughter’s journal, I realized his home life wasn’t as idyllic as he’d wanted us to think. He’d been walking on eggshells- I could relate to that. Sometimes I wonder if he was afraid to tell Edwin because he thought he would love him less. (Sometimes I worry in the back of my mind if I tell anyone, things I did years ago to survive would make them love me less).

My heart went out to him.

Right after that, he must have wondered if he was losing Edwin to Monty. A tiny, tiny piece of me that grew up as no-one’s-best-friend, just-the-afterthought, understood him. I wondered if it would be worse to lose a best friend, actually, than to never have one. I am okay now. But there’s a part of you that is forever worried that you did something wrong.

And next episode his fears are heightened. We see why- he’s never thought he was enough. His home life was brutal. He had friends, but they are what killed him. Nothing he ever did was “enough”, and now he’s sure he’s losing his best friend even though he did everything he could to protect him. 

There’s something about having an abusive parent that makes it hard to scrub the feeling of “never enough” off of you. It’s no one’s fault but theirs, but all I wanted to do was hold him after that. I see why Edwin tried to reach out. 

Charles has never thought he was enough, no matter how many friends or trophies he had. Of course he went into episode five thinking he was a bad person, even though he isn’t (and I’m so glad Edwin told him, with words, he was not a bad person).

Of course he ended episode six worrying he was about to lose his best friend to a boy that just tried to kill them in the woods— or a shape shifter who trapped them in a town across the sea. 

He does lose Edwin- but not to a boy. To Hell.

So Charles braves letting the night nurse look in his mind again. This moment stood out to me as a viewer- we already saw he died because he prevented a hate crime. He tells Edwin he stepped in and stopped the attack because he’s half Indian (I could go on about how much him being biracial meant to me, but I won’t here). He says he is not that different than the boy being beaten. People are right that Edwin has a strong sense of justice- but so too does Charles. Perhaps that’s why they got on so well right away.

So he rescues Edwin from Hell after persuading The Night Nurse. And as he’s rescuing Edwin from Hell, Edwin finally, finally gets to tell Charles what he wanted to say earlier. 

Sometimes people erroneously think Edwin came out to Charles here. That wasn’t quite what happened- the larger arc people often erase in this story is that Edwin Payne confessed that he loved Charles Rowland. How couldn’t you love Charles Rowland, after all of that? 

And Charles meet him as much as he could. He does love Edwin- he just needs time to figure the rest out. But they have literally forever. And honestly, they seemed like they were off to a pretty good start once they weren’t running from a giant spider made of babydoll heads. 

So, Charles, thank you for making me feel seen. Your smile is pretty convincing. I hope you have fun growing the agency with Edwin, and I hope the afterlife is kind while you figure things out together.

[royaltystudios]

*This was a rant I made last night that tortured my sister since she isn't a PJO fan (boo!) So I'm gonna post this here to hear other people's opinions on this (there's multiple things I talked about so prepare for that)*

Warning: swearing, minor spoilers, and just me being salty

*********

1. How is Percy stronger than Jason? Percy only started training at 12 years old and came to Camp for summer, so he's trained for only 4 summers

Meanwhile, Jason trained AT 2 YEARS OLD BY GIANT WOLVES THAT'LL KILL HIM IF HE SHOWS WEAKNESS AND AFTER THAT, AT 4 YEARS OLD HE JOINS CAMP JUPITER FOR THE NEXT 12ISH YEARS AS A CHILD SOLDIER!! And Ricky over here telling me that Percy is stronger than Jason!? Also, while Percy could summon a bigass wave at 12 but Jason had to ask shitty sky daddy for a lighting bolt? BULLSHIT!! He should be able to summon 20 lighting bolts or some shit like that!

Before ya'll say, 'Jason had memory loss, so he couldn't use his powers correctly.' But Percy could? I didn't like how Rick nerfed Jason just to make Percy more op (I love Percy but Jason is also a big 3 kid so he should also be op, there's a reason why they stopped having kids.)

Speaking of being nerfed....

2. I want to see the other big 3 kids being more op! I could maybe understand Hazel not having a lot of op moments since she recently came back from the dead, but she was trained by JASON, A PREATOR!! I just want more big 3 kids being op besides Percy (Nico has the second most op powers and scenes)

For example: I want to see Hazel Levesque crystalline someone like in MLP or Jason sucking the air out of someone's lungs like in LOK. I want them to go CRAZY!!

3. Why aren't there Primordial demi-gods?? I feel like that would be a cool concept to think about. Would they be just as powerful as the Big 3 kids or stronger since their parents *are* their domain compared to the other gods who are only concepts of their domain? I like to think that the demi-gods could be more powerful than the big three kids, but if there's a canon reason why they don't exist, let me know in the reblogs.

And finally...

4. I don't like Nyx's portrayal in TSAS's book. I prefer the other versions of her, like the Hades game (mostly from her design). There are other gods and goddesses that weren't portrayed well in the series, but at least there's sort of a reason for it (for others that don't know or forgot, whenever the gods moved into different countries, the gods act like how the people views them there.)

That's all. Let me know if I have written anything wrong or if you agree or disagree with my statements. Have a good day/afternoon/night!!

[admirationandromantics]

Could you please write something about Chris or Josh with a virgin reader? How they'd react when they found out? How their first time would be like? Both of them strike me as virgins as well but idk🤷‍♀️

Yes, I also imagine both of them as virgins. Josh seems like he’s been all talk, no action. And Chris? Well, I feel that one is obvious. Anyways, I’ll do both in this post, and for the sake of the writing, the reader is the only virgin, not the guys. They’ve both had sex before. Just because it’s easier to work with. Anyway, enjoy <3 

Chris

He’s not surprised when you tell him, he did not think you were, but the reveal gives him a little comfort as well. Why, you ask? Because he doesn’t need to match himself up to someone else. He’s confident in his ways, and that he can make you feel good, but at the same time, this guy will never stop being insecure, and that small part of it relieved him a little. 

What he also does feel anxious about is the fact that he’ll be your first. And what do people say about their first time? Awkward, weird, nothing went as planned… He wants to make sure that your first time goes well, and that it was a good experience. “I promise, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy” “Yeah, yeah. But I’m gonna make you happy for another reason than that too” 

If you are the VERY romantic type, he’ll set everything up. A nice dinner, candles, music etc. He wants you to remember this, and trust me, remember you will. 

One of his goals is to drag out the foreplay as long as possible, wanting you to be drenched and needy for him. Better to go too slow than too quick. This makes the makeout session last way longer than necessary, and you’re starting to get impatient. “C-Chris, I need you now” “No, no, just a little bit longer” he whispers, hand in your hair, pulling you towards him. 

It’s firstly when you start unconsciously grinding on his thigh that he finally understands how down-bad you are, and he starts working on your clothing. He’s fast and gentle with his hands, easily unclasping and removing your bra. 

The cold air hitting your nipples while he admires you, hands groping and lips sucking. You can’t do anything but throw your head back, gripping his shoulders for support as he continues his assault. 

You guys move on, getting each other's clothes off, and him getting on top of you, fingers digging into your heat as you whimper. He continuously asks if you’re okay, if you’re in pain or uncomfortable. 

“You sure you want to keep going?” “Y-yes” “I can stop if-” “I swear, I’ll kill you if you stop now” “Oh? well then” a smile creeping on his lips as he drags out his fingers. 

He positions himself, using your juices as lube as he slowly moves up and down, getting ready. “Okay, we’re gonna take this slow, okay?” You nod, taking a deep breath as he fills you up, small moans leaving your mouth. He leans over you, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss, swallowing each of your sounds while pressing into you. 

“How’re you feeling?” “Fuck, just give me a couple of seconds” you whisper, adjusting and comprehending. He smiles, nodding and spending the time kissing your upper body, everything from your lips down to your breasts. 

After a while, you give him the signal, urging him to start moving. He obliges, always watching your reactions attentively to be sure you’re okay. 

As the night draws to a close, you spend the night in his arms, sleeping and cuddling. Of course, when you were done, he had a glass of water ready for you, packing you deep into the sheets and caressing your hair. 

Josh

Josh is not surprised that you’re a virgin. His suggestive comments here and there getting you so riled up that he only made the assumption. He does not feel that much pressure, only wanting your time with him to go well. 

He can be really romantic, each touch he makes both attentive and calculated. When you’re making out, he’s respectful until you ask him not to be, causing a rougher man to grope and bite you. He still doesn’t go the full way, wanting to be careful and make sure that some type of trust is established before going to second base. 

One day, you’re laying on his bed, a movie playing in the background when your attention turns to each other. This leads to a long make out session, clothes thrown across the room, but still not going further than your underwear. 

You’re hot and bothered, wanting him to take you right now. You smile as you feel him growing hard beneath you, reciprocating that craving. Thighs around his torso, ass on his pelvis, you lean down, leaving kisses on his neck and asking. “Josh, I want you” “Right now? Are you sure?” “Yes” 

He spins you around, making you gasp from your back hitting the mattress. His hands wander over your chest, going behind and unclasping your bra. You sit up a bit, helping him take it off, throwing the garment on the floor. 

“And you want to do this?” “Yes, I do” “Right now” “Are you not up for it?” “Holy fuck, I’m holding back with every fiber of my being” “Stop holding back” 

He watches you while pushing himself into you, making sure that you’re not getting hurt, and can stop at any time. He captures your lips in his, both of your moans filling the room every time you stop for air. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight” You can only whimper in reply, feeling him fill you up, struggling to control himself as he wants to ravage you. He gives you time to adjust, letting you signal to him when he can start moving. 

When you’re done, he holds you, praising you and asking how it was. He’s attentive and sweet, asking if you would like a bath or a shower.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hi 👋 i love hearing your thoughts about things, especially when i feel like ive hit a wall with ideas lol. anyways i was wondering about whether or not you thought it was ooc for sirius to go after wormtail that night instead of stay with harry

Hi 👋

Thank you so much!

And no, I don't think it's OOC considering it's one of the first things we learn about Sirius. Sirius, when he's emotional, he's reckless. Actually, Sirius is reckless with his own safety in general. Throughout GoF and OotP he constantly tells Harry to not risk himself, but Sirius is constantly putting himself at risk. He is reckless with his own life and well-being almost constantly. His recklessness extends to others as well (I mean, the prank could've ended up with everyone finding out or with Remus killing Snape. So it's clear he doesn't care as much for Remus or Snape's safety). But not Harry. Never Harry's safety.

Harry's safety is incredibly important to him, not his own (or some other people, he's pretty selective about who matters).

After the Potters died, Sirius trusted Hagrid and Dumbledore to keep Harry safe, so he allowed himself to go after Pettigrew. I mean, it's his usual pattern, he makes sure Harry is safe, like he shouts at him to take Neville and run in the ministry in OotP:

“Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville, and run!” Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix.

(OotP)

Before throwing himself headfirst into danger he might not return from. (Azkaban back on the night the Potters died and a fight in which he died at the end of OotP).

Besides, Sirius sees betraying his friends as the worst sin possible:

“Believe me,” croaked Black. “Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.”

(PoA)

“You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!” “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black. “DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”

(PoA)

He is willing to die for James, Lily, and Harry in a heartbeat. It's not even an active decision for him, it's just how it is. To think it isn't the same for Pettigrew — that his friend let James and Lily be killed to save his own skin — there is little Sirius hates more than that. If Voldemort comes after you, Sirius sees no other option but to die to protect your friends.

Like, fandom likes to talk about secondary houses and stuff, Sirius' second choice house would be fucking Hufflepuff. His loyalty and how all-encompassing it is, is such a big part of his character. Loyalty motivates him to do almost everything he does. He breaks out of Azkaban to protect Harry:

“But then I saw Peter in that picture . . . I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry . . . perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again. . . .” [...] “So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive. . . .” [...] “It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn’t destroy it. . . . It wasn’t a happy feeling . . . it was an obsession . . . but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog. . . . It’s so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused. . . . I was thin, very thin . . . thin enough to slip through the bars. . . . I swam as a dog back to the mainland. . . . I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry. . . .”

(PoA)

He stays in a cave and eats rats so he could be close by if Harry needed him during the tournament:

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread. “Thanks,” said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. “I’ve been living off rats mostly. Can’t steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I’d draw attention to myself.”

(GoF)

The original plan with the Secret Keeper was for Sirius to be the decoy. So, Voldemort would go after him and kill him, but James, Lily, and Harry would be safe. Sirius planned to die to keep the Potters safe:

“Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. “I thought it was the perfect plan . . . a bluff. . . . Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you. . . . It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.”

(PoA)

He goes back to a childhood home he hates and lets the Order invade his privacy in a way that clearly strains on his mental state because he knows it'll help protect Harry. Sirius wants to be of use and of help to the people he cares about so fucking much:

“Hasn’t anyone told you? This was my parents’ house,” said Sirius. “But I’m the last Black left, so it’s mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I’ve been able to do.” Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius’s voice sounded.

(OotP)

So, of course, he goes after Pettigrew to avenge James and Lily. His friends are dead, Voldemort is dead, Harry is safe, the only useful thing left for him to do is punish the traitor:

...but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —” [...] “Harry . . . I as good as killed them,” he croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I’m to blame, I know it. . . . The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies . . . I realized what Peter must’ve done . . . what I’d done. . . .”

(PoA)

It's how his loyalty is.

It's such a major aspect of his character that is consistently a huge motivation for him.

I think it's telling his Animagus form is a dog — the animal most renowned for its loyalty.

So, yeah, I think it's 100% in character. It's reckless, as Sirius often is for his own safety. And it's out of Sirius' sense of loyalty that Peter betrayed. Sirius hates Peter at that moment more than he ever hated anyone probably. Because Peter abandoned his friends. Becouse he sinned against Sirius' highest value — loyalty.

Sirius holds everyone else to his own standard of loyalty, as well. He likes Ron and Hermione because they were willing to die for Harry in PoA and Sirius respects that immensely. Becouse to him it's obvious you should be willing to die for your friends. It's what you do.

Add to that the raw emotions of just losing his two best friends, the end of the war, the betrayal at the moment, the guilt he feels even during the events of the books for his part in it (for suggesting Peter) — and you have a Sirius who'd probably be willing to harm other people (and himself) on his way if he got to kill Peter.

So, it's actually very in line with the type of behavior we see from Sirius. The only situation in which he wouldn't have gone after Peter is if no one was there to take Harry and then Harry would be at risk if Sirius left. Becouse in general, with Sirius' morals (loyalty above all else) and emotions at the moment, he would always go after the traitor if he could.

[haru-dipthong]

Fansub release + Analysis of Utena Ep 18

There's a lot of ideas packed into this episode about patriarchy and what it means to become a man. This is an issue that I've personally done a lot of reflecting on, and also something I've been reading about recently with bell hooks' The Will To Change, so this episode I'll be doing a little more textual analysis than usual and comparing readings of Utena with bell hooks.

Utena: つわぶき君はよく続くなー。僕だったらあの生活三日も持たないや。 Anthy: きっと好きだからできるんですよ

Utena: I don't know how he does it. I wouldn't last three days being bossed around like that. Anthy: If you loved someone, you'd understand.

This line is soooo revealing. It really shows how Anthy thinks about love. And god, the way she says it — so condescending to Utena with the んですよ. Like “you poor naive thing who has never experienced love, I know better than you do”. It sounds very "you'll understand when you're older". And it tears me up inside to see Anthy believing that she is the one who knows better. Even Utena’s naivity is better than Anthy’s horrible warped idea of what love is. And obviously the reason Anthy essentially takes a stand behind the idea that love is unconditional servitude is because of her curse and her relationship with Akio. She is obliged to be at the beck and call of her betrothed, a position of love. And she has learnt from Akio that love is running yourself into the ground, from his time serving the people as Dios. And her relationship with Akio, a familial relationship that is traditionally one of love, is essentially slavery. What else can she do, how else can she live with herself, if not by telling herself that this is what love is meant to be?

A more literal translation of Anthy's line would be something like "I'm sure he can do it because he loves her". But her tone and phrasing in Japanese makes it clear that she's extrapolating - she's thinking that anyone in love would do the same. That's why I translated the line the way I did.

I also tried "That's just what love is" but it didn't sound condescending enough. I needed Anthy to sound like Utena's mum in this exchange, because that's how she sounds in Japanese.

大人になりたい！大人になって世界をめちゃくちゃにしてやりたい！

I want to grow up! I want to become a man so I can fuck up the world!

Oh god oh fuck. What is happening to our little Mitsuru… who could have predicted this?! Well, bell hooks did:

Boys are encouraged by patriarchal thinking to claim rage as the easiest path to manliness. It should come as no surprise, then, that beneath the surface there is a seething anger is boys, a rage waiting for the moment to be heard. The Will To Change pp. 44

In isolation they lose the sense of their value and worth. No wonder then that when they reenter a community, they bring with them killing rage as their primary defence. pp. 43

The word めちゃくちゃにする is difficult to translate. It’s a word used often in casual conversation, so it doesn’t sound very formal or proper. It kind of means “to throw into complete disorder; to make everything a complete mess”. E.g.

その地震は何もかもめちゃくちゃにした

The earthquake destroyed/smashed up everything.

In this context though, “destroy” or “smash up” doesn’t work because we’re not talking about buildings and furniture, we’re talking about “the world”. Other translations try their best to translate this line without swearing (I want to become a man and wreck the world! // I want to be an adult and just kick over the whole world! // I want to a grown up, and just… just do whatever I want with the world!). But I really don’t think it’s possible. THE translation for めちゃくちゃにする in this context is “to fuck up”.

経験を積んだ大人を倒してこそ子供は大人になる

But a kid who beats an adult… will become an adult himself!

Maybe I’m reading too much into the word 倒す here, but allow me to digress: I don’t think this translation is particularly controversial. 倒す literally does mean “beat”. But I originally had this as “defeat”, a much less violent word (also used by the one of the translations I’m using as reference). However, I think “beat” is better for several reasons.

First, 倒す is a word that comes up a lot in anime and manga targeted at the 12-16 year old boy demographic. “Beat” is similar — “can superman beat goku in a fight?” It has the same schoolyard feel to it. Using a word like this emphasises Tsuwabuki’s boyishness.

Secondly, while 倒す means “to defeat”, this meaning is actually metaphorical. Its literal meaning is “to knock down/to fell”. I’m guessing the “defeat” meaning comes from its use in boxing, where knocking someone down is equivalent to defeating them. Because of this, the original Japanese could be interpreted more literally — Tsuwabuki wants to batter an adult, he wants to prove his manhood by beating a woman, by knocking her down. I think this reading is reinforced by Tsuwabuki’s violent patriarchal outburst in the Seminarium elevator.

Another except from bell hooks’ The Will To Change (emphasis mine):

Researchers found that boys agreed that to be truly manly, they must command respect, be tough, not talk about problems, and dominate females. pp. 42

And another:

Boys who are allowed to assume the role of “mini patriarch” are often violent toward their mothers. (…) Obviously, as small boys they do not have the strength to overpower their mothers, but it is clear that they see the use of violence to get their needs met as acceptable. pp. 61-62

As always, thank you to my editor @dontbe-lasanya for their amazing editing skills! This project wouldn't be possible without you!

Remember to follow the blog if you want to stay updated with new episode releases. For all episodes released so far, go here:

Rose divider taken from this post

[shinyspanishgem]

A (DC) rich people game show, but then they start going nuts.

You see, it's not unusual to have one of the infamous rich guys of the USA on TV, such as Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne usually on talk shows to talk about their latest project, be it for good (donations) or bad (new LexCorp weapon, this one is for good I swear-).

But that's not the times people love seeing them, no, that's when they go on game shows. And finally, some producer gets the idea, "Why have only one, competing against other famous people like actors or singers, when they could compete against each other! What could possibly go wrong?".

A lot can go wrong. The show is a series of different games across the board, they all have to donate to charities to enter, but also know this is a great opportunity for getting good publicity. At first, it's just fun, games of them working together for a goal, with lots of "turns out the rich are eating each other!" jokes from Queen, comically bad attempts at leadership from Luthor, and Bruce Wayne being a passenger princess during the games "I bring the good luck".

That is until the following games are individual tasks, true competition...and then comes the cheating. Yes, Luthor started it but it also gets ridiculous.

They need to form a debate team, technically with their friends (free cameos for the show), Oliver and the rest of the participants understand that and bring in famous people, yes Oliver brings Black Canary that's his wife and best friend. And Luthor immediately calls on the best lawyers he has "You can't prove they aren't my friends also", which is a bit sad tbh.

Bruce knew he would do that. He is also a Gothamite with a sense of humour. Cable TV says hello to Harvey Dent, aka Twoface, because he is debating here now.

They enter a typical Steve Harvey style of questions, "Oh, you are bringing previous trivia night winners Luthor? that's smart...how did Wayne bring in the Riddler again? stop asking questions you say?"

They enter a mini survivors set, "Luthor brings in specialists from the military, can't say it doesn't make sense!... Mr Wayne, is that Poison Ivy? can he do that?"... and Oliver wins anyway (out of traumatic-experience experience), he brought Dinah again, he's a wife guy.

They enter a round of questions by journalists, points given by originality on evading questions, "So, we had to change our pick Clark Kent bc Luthor claimed it would be rigged, but thankfully Mr Wayne offered an alternative! welcome physicologist- Is that Harley Queen Mr Wyne- Bruce, can I call you Bruce? look me in the eyes and tell me how you are doing this Bruce"

"...Money?"

Harley rips them into psychological shreds, and a non-traumatized rich guy wins (DC equivalent of the Arizona Ice Tea CEO, they deserve it).

They enter rounds of questions about where they live, Luthor loses because he has no clue about the public transportation system in Metropolis, and Oliver acts dumb because he should not know half of the stuff he answers...Bruce gets stuck on the heroes of Gotham question, he is stressed, and he knows he'll be crucified if he forgest any of his vigilantes, and their associates, "Shut up Rick Redhood does count-".

Bruce Wayne forgets to count Batman, and he is saved by Oliver saying "They are bitter exes, let him not count the Bat!", he'll kill him later.

Luthor keeps cheating with professionals, Bruce keeps bringing in criminals, and Oliver wins because the final challenge is a popular vote, and the wife guy always wins.

[seraphtrevs]

Been rewatching some Jesse scenes since I’m gearing up to write again (sequel to Sweet Tooth – wooo), and I particularly wanted to look at his relationship with his parents since I’ve given Jesse a son. And like, after watching those scenes again—I really don’t think Jesse’s parents were abusive. Since I was writing notes up, I thought I might share them (under the cut because it's 2000 words 😭)

Here's what happens in 1x04: Jesse smokes so much meth he starts having paranoid delusions that people are coming to kill him. He shows up at his parents’ house—I’m guessing he went there because being with his parents made him feel safe. He doesn’t knock on the door, though—he crashes into their backyard while his parents and brother are eating dinner. He’s still very obviously high.

His parents let him in to sleep it off. It’s likely been years since he’s lived there, but they’ve kept his bedroom for him. There are pictures that he drew as a child framed on the wall, as well as pictures of himself as a child.

Meanwhile, his parents wonder what kind of drugs he’s on. His mom wants to check him for needle marks. His dad wonders if they should let him stay, and his mom mentions a church that has meetings for people struggling with addiction, and that if he agrees to go then maybe he can stay (although Jesse has a house to live in. There’s no reason for him to stay, but his parents probably see his sudden appearance as maybe a cry for help). Jesse’s mom mentions she’s not sure what to tell Jake about the sudden reappearance of his older brother, which suggests Jesse drifts in and out of their lives, which is probably hurtful and confusing for a child.

Jesse appears and asks when dinner will be served. His mom asks him if he slept well and offers to do his laundry, which he declines. His dad waits for Jesse to leave before saying to his wife “we are not doing this again,” suggesting that there have been multiple times in the past that Jesse has shown up like this and it’s never turned out well. His mom protests, but Dad is firm—they’ve got to lay down the law and be consistent.

Except they don’t. They find Jesse setting the table, and they clearly don’t have the heart to make any demands. Why? Well—I think the obvious answer is that seeing their son home, setting the table like he did as a little boy, tugs at their heartstrings. Which is the reason Jesse is doing it.

So like—so far, his parents have been very kind and understanding to him. They didn’t berate him about showing up to their house high, they gave him a place to sleep it off, his mother politely asked him if he slept well, offered to do his laundry, and welcomed him for dinner.

Cut to Jesse hanging out with his brother in his room. He admires Jake’s many awards and suggests they hang out more often. Jake doesn’t seem very interested in this and actually seems pretty uncomfortable with Jesse being there. Mom checks in on them, asking how they’re doing in an overly bright tone, and leaves the door open. I think if Jesse’s mom was abusive, she would have said something nasty to him and ordered the door be left open, but she didn’t. Why? Probably because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, while still signaling to Jake that she’s available if he needs her.  

Jesse is VERY offended by this and sneers that she probably thinks he's a criminal (he is, though) and that she doesn’t want him to corrupt their favorite son. Jake scoffs at this and says that Jesse is clearly the favorite, since he’s all they ever talk about. If Jake is under the impression that Jesse is their favorite son, I think it’s pretty safe to assume that they aren’t talking about how much they hate him all the time. They talk about him all the time because they’re worried. Jesse looks surprised, and then a little ashamed.

That night, he can’t sleep, so he opens the trunk in his bedroom. It’s full of his old toys and drawings. He gets a phone call from Combo and they make a deal for Jesse to sell him more drugs. Because he is, in fact, a criminal. And like—I think it’s deeply shitty of Jesse to be angry at his mom for not even directly saying to his face that she’s worried he might be committing crimes but just maybe sort of implying it, when that is indeed what he’s doing, under her own roof, after she welcomed him in. Jesse is the asshole in this situation, not his mom.

Later on, Jesse’s parents’ maid finds a joint. His parents are upset and assume it’s his. His mom asks, rhetorically, how many chances have they given him, and how many times have they had this conversation, and how many times has Jesse lied to their faces and played on their emotions by telling them what they want to hear so they’ll give him another chance, which they always do, and how it makes them feel like fools. If Jesse’s parents were abusive, I don’t think they would have given him so many chances. And his parents have a right to be angry about all the lies he’s told them. They are wrong in this particular case, but it’s not unreasonable for them to make that assumption, since they’ve had the exact same thing happen many times before, which Jesse doesn’t deny. And even though the joint wasn’t his, he did spend the previous evening making a drug deal out of his childhood bedroom.

And like—we’ve witnessed the manipulation his mom is talking about in this very episode, with Jesse setting the table to prevent them from asking him about what drugs he was on when he showed up in their backyard, which works—they don’t confront him. They don’t want to chase him away.

So they kick him out. But it’s not like he’s going to the streets. He has a house! A very nice house, in a great neighborhood, all to himself!

And about that house. I also rewatched the scene where he loses the home in 2x04, and this is what happens: his parents ask Jesse to speak with them and their lawyer. Jesse pouts and scowls and rolls his eyes. He assumes this is “another” intervention, i.e. a boring waste of his time, in his opinion. He only becomes interested in what’s happening when the lawyer says he has 72 hours to leave. He can’t believe he’s being kicked out of his own house! Except his dad has to explain to him that he doesn’t own it.

How was Jesse not aware that he didn’t own the house??? He just seems to think that living in it means he owns it. That suggests to me that he isn’t paying rent. Jesse isn’t a little kid. He’s got to be aware that owning a house is a legal matter, and that he’d need to have his name put on the deed. But he doesn’t know that, because it’s pretty clear to me that he’s never actually had any adult responsibilities.

So back to the meeting. Jesse is furious at being kicked out of “his” house. Apparently at one point, the plan had been to sell it and split the profits 50/50. He angrily asks why that’s off the table now. Jesse’s dad says it’s because Jesse a “speed manufacturer.” Jesse IMMEDIATELY lies—like he doesn’t even take a beat to process it, he just reflexively denies it, sounding outraged that his father would DARE to accuse him of such a thing. But like—he is a speed manufacturer!!!

His mom says that a DEA agent came to their house looking for him. Jesse immediately lies again and says that he’s been HELPING the DEA, and that he could get into a lot of trouble for telling them so, and sarcastically says “you’re welcome,” I guess expecting them to be impressed that he’s helping the DEA? (These are all lies—he is lying his ass off.) His mom says she saw the meth lab in the basement. Jesse still doesn’t admit it. Instead, he expresses annoyance that his mom has a key. To the house she owns. The lawyer confronts him with photos of the lab. Jesse dismisses it as not a big deal because it isn’t even there anymore, he cleaned it out. He doesn’t acknowledge at all that he just lied to his parents’ face several times in the space of about five minutes.

His dad says they can’t stop him from ruining his life, but they won’t let him take them down with them. It's harsh, but true. Jesse set up a meth lab in the basement of a home his parents legally owned, which could have gotten them into trouble. And when the DEA came looking for him, they didn’t turn him over, even though they could have. I mean, maybe you can argue that they just didn’t want to lose the house, but I think they also don’t want their son to go to jail.

His mom shows up later at his house while he’s taking a nap. He tries to hide all his drug paraphernalia while telling his mom that the whole thing has been such a huge wake up call for him, and how he’s thinking about going to business school, and how great it is that they’re starting a dialogue! Very sweet now, very apologetic. (HE’S LYING. HE’S NOT GOING TO BUSINESS SCHOOL, HE’S SELLING DRUGS.)

Then he notices that furniture is being moved out. He drops the sweetness and gets angry. His mom tells him she’s putting the furniture in storage and will give it back to him when he “grows up.” Then he gets really angry and says that he “earned” the house by taking his aunt to her appointments and making her lunch every day. And then his mom says that he didn’t make her lunch every day.

And you know—I kind of believe her? Like—Jesse obviously was involved with his aunt’s care, but is it hard to believe that maybe he was a little flaky about it? And it’s true Ginny wanted him to live in her house. But she didn’t leave the house to Jesse in her will. She left it to her sister. Why? I think probably because she knew that Jesse wasn’t mature enough to own a home. Which was true!

Then Jesse gets right up in her face and starts screaming that she abandoned her dying sister (did she?) and now she’s making her eldest son homeless (as if Jesse’s choices didn’t have anything to do with that) then he sarcastically says what a great family they have. And then she slaps him and yells back that she doesn’t know why he’s like this. What a monster.

Anyway. I think we see Jesse suffer so much abuse at Walt’s hands that we kind of forget that he had a whole life before Walt showed up in it, and he was royally fucking it up in spite of having a lot of privilege. He's an upper middle class white boy who, at age 24, has no job (other than selling drugs), and yet he had a house to live in rent-free (kind of doubt he paid utilities either), clothes to wear, and food to eat, and it basically seems like he did whatever he felt like (which was mostly partying) while suffering very few consequences other than not being allowed to live with his parents, which I’m assuming as an adult man, he’d rather not be doing anyway. And the only reason he lost that house was because he built a meth lab in the basement. Jesse wasn’t abused. He was coddled.

[sweetdreamz2]

Yandere Soldier S. Ryomen

Who knew that you would catch the attention of someone as ruthless as Sukuna— who so happens to be the enemy.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who is as menacing and commanding as he looks — broad shoulders and scarred arms signaling he’s seen more than enough battles in his life. Dark tattoos peeking from the confines of his uniform, sleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned to showcase his dog tags around his neck. Those crimson eyes digging into people’s soul— as if those eyes could kill.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who does his job very, very well. Each mission he’s been assigned, he never fails. Always coming back with that dark, sinister smirk on his face, his hands soaked with the blood of his enemies. He didn’t become captain of his squad for nothing. His skills are top notched compared to any of the others in his base. He’s very proud of the type of power he holds amongst the others -so much so that no one dares to defy him.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who just wants to wind down after a rough mission one night and decides to stop by a bar along with his squad— the once rowdy bar instantly falling silent as they entered. The patrons turning around to stare at them silently, some with fear and others glaring daggers at the group. Of course, who wouldn’t stare — Sukuna and his squad were part of the occupying forces of this country, so the stares were anything but familiar to the group.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who merely sweeps his gaze around the smelly, old building with a nonchalant expression on his face until his orbs land on a figure behind the bar. You. You were pouring drinks while occasionally offering small talk to the occupants sitting across from you. Some were friendly while others were throwing flirtatious remarks at you — it’s not like you weren’t used to it by now, but it definitely didn’t help with the uniform you had to wear.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who sits with his squad quietly, his orbs trained on you the whole time until your figure leaves the bar and make way towards him. You offer the group a small smile. “What can I get for you gentleman tonight?” Sukuna doesn’t even hesitate, lips quickly forming into a smirk that made your stomach twist. "Whiskey for me, little one."

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who keeps stopping by after that day, sometimes alone and the other times with his squad— the other men settling into the same table, loud and boisterous while the tall male makes his way towards the bar where you’re at, wiping away at the counter until you feel his intimidating presence in front of you. “Whiskey.” He says with that damn smile that just made your stomach churn in the worst possible way as he leaned his muscular arms against the counter.

All you can do is manage a smile towards him before making his drink, feeling his crimson orbs staring at your back.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who can’t keep his mind off you— you were so interesting to him.. so fragile and small.. and breathtakingly beautiful. You were ethereal in his eyes, a precious gem that deserved to be protected. Every time he stops by, orders the same drink and sits by the bar, watching you work though he never tries to talk to you. Until today that is. “Busy night?”

“When is it never busy,” you replied back as you placed the glass in front of him— already knowing his usual order before he even asks.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who grabs your hand before you could leave, his fingers digging into your skin— gentle at first. He tells you if you’re always this friendly to your customers, but his eyes held a sort of dangerous glint to them. Your heart pounded harshly against your chest, fear eating at you though you refused to give him the satisfaction.

He can feel your pulse pick up underneath his touch. He lets out a dark chuckle before letting you go— giving your hand a firm squeeze and sending you a wink.

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna who waits outside of the bar one night as you were closing up, his expression unreadable as you finally meet his gaze. You frowned, gripping your keys tightly in hand as he stepped closer towards you. "You're an interesting one," he said before you could even ask what he was doing outside of the bar.

Your back pressed up against the building, heart racing rapidly as his hand rested beside you, caging you against the wall. A frown tugged at your lips, eyes narrowing at the tall male. "What do you want?"

Sukuna tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "I've decided something." He grabs a hold of your chin and leans down to whisper against your ear. "You're coming with me, doll." His words hit you like a punch. You protest, scoffing at him and replying back, "I'm not going anywhere with you." Who were you to tell him no?

Sukuna’s lips twitched into a grin, though there was no humor behind it. He finds it comical that you truly think you have a choice in the matter. How foolish of you. But, it's okay though. He'll make sure to correct that. "You'll come to understand, little one." His warm breath nipped against your ear. "I don't take no for an answer."

Before you could even muster a reply, Yandere! Soldier Sukuna already has an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I've been patient, but I'm done waiting," he growled, tone dangerously calm. You struggle against his grip, fists pounding against his toned chest to no avail while he merely stares at you with those deep, crimson orbs while he lets out a dark chuckle.

You yell profanities at him, but your words are cut off once he hoists you over his shoulder with ease. "Time to go, little one. You'll be much safer with me now."

Yandere! Soldier Sukuna carries you away from the bar, away from the city you called home and a sinking realization settles over you. You won't ever be able to escape from him.