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meteoramp3 · 24 days ago

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❝ I - The cage

╰┈➤ Summary: When you find out your father decided to promise you—without asking you—to an unknown man, you burden yourself thinking of a plan to escape this unpleasing marriage. Words: 2k Warnings: English is not my first language, no dance of dragons au, forced marriage/marriage of convenience, mentions of disgust towards sex, mentions of virginity loss, minor spoilers for Fire and Blood, accurate period misogyny, betrayal, reader is from the Reach. A/N: Can noble ladies have a sworn protector or is it just a princess thing? idk, but reader has one. Also he's called ser Barristan cuz idk what else to call him lmao, and i miss him [cry]. ALSO, the fanfic was inspired by the song "The cage" by Oasis and the movie Possession ;). Masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Next chapter

Your fingers turned another page of the forbidden book you had found in the library of your house earlier that day, the wind made the grass dance a little, tickling your skin. The place offered a sense of calm and comfort, sheltering you from prying eyes and scolding Septas, who often reminded you of your place and duty as eldest daughter and someday, someone’s wife, and someone’s mother; a thought that always made your tummy twist.

You rolled onto your stomach, leaning on your shoulders to admire the landscape of the field, trying to distract yourself from intrusive thoughts. You'd never felt content about marriage or motherhood. After hearing many horrible stories, you were frightened of such a destiny: being used as a bargaining chip for the family's sake, being touched and bedded without any say, while prying eyes watched to ensure the deed was done.

Days like this always passed quickly, and today was no exception. You ignored the inevitable scolding from your parents—the tranquility and solitude kept you from leaving, even knowing your father had probably sent your sworn sword to search for you by now, as darkness had fallen.

You were right. Ser Barristan had indeed left the castle to fetch you. Always so kind, the old man asked about your day, making small talk throughout the walk. Upon arrival, you went straight to the castle kitchen, famished and assuming your family had already dined without you.

As usual, the pastries tasted delicious, sweet but not overly. The cooks had let you steal some of them after finishing your meal, which you shared with a serving girl and your youngest brother, who had sneaked from his room. His cheeks were sugar-coated with crumbs as he clung to your skirts, covering them with flour while babbling about his day.

Now in your room, your dress lay discarded on a wooden chair, waiting to be cleaned.

The night was unusually cold—the past years had been warm, especially in The Reach. The curtains flowed in the wind, and silence reigned.

Until a knock at the main door broke through.

The sound pulled you from your thoughts. You quickly rose, making a beeline for the door, which creaked as you opened it.

“My lady.”

“Oh, Ser Barristan,” You looked at the man curiously. “I didn't expect you at such an hour. How can I help you?”

“Your father wants to see you, it seems.”

“My father, of all people at this hour? Really?” He nodded. “Alright, I'll go in a moment. Thank you.”

“Shall I accompany you?” You shook your head. “There's no need. Thanks, and good night.”

You made your way to his chambers and knocked. “Father, may I come in?” A faint “yes” came from inside. You opened the door, and entered the big room, it was covered in tapestries and furniture from Essos

Your father sat before the fireplace, smiling as you entered.

“Sweetheart, where were you all day? I saw you once this morning, then you vanished.” He motioned to the chair beside his. “Your Septa says you missed your lessons. I thought we'd discussed this.”

“I was in the gardens, in the clearing, specifically.”

He sighed. “I know you find embroidery boring, but you should have told me.”

“...Sorry.”

“Mm, that's not why I called you anyway.”

That made sense—he'd never summoned you at such an hour. “Then?” You watched him swallow nervously, and you raised an eyebrow.

“I've promised you to another.”

You choked. “What?”

“You're to wed a Lannister. You'll be fine, and most importantly, safe. Think how this will benefit the family!”

Your throat went dry. This had to be a jest. Your daddy wouldn't do this... would he? Just yesterday, and every day since you had been born, he had told you he loved you. You didn't even know this man, and now you have marry him? Love doesn't work that way, does it? Your mind raced to identify which Lannister it might be. You hadn't met many, nor studied their dynasty beyond the basics. Could it be Jason Lannister? No, he was married. That left his twin, Tyland Lannister, by what you've heard and studied, had already fought for the favor of Rhaenyra Targaryen many years ago.

“Is that what you really want?” You questioned his decision. Surely as a concerned father, he wanted the best for his children, but he knew of your friendship with prince Jacaerys. Wouldn't that better serve the family?

You could rule beside him, and your eldest child would inherit the throne. How could you tell Jace about this? In your letters, Jacaerys had expressed his interest in marrying you, promising to wait until you came of age, and even then, until you truly felt ready for children, mindful of what had happened to his grandmother, Aemma Arryn.

“Of course it's what I want. You're my only daughter—I want only the best for you.” Guilt suddenly gripped you for questioning him. He wanted you secure, wanted to ensure an easy life, but at what cost? Your dignity? Your autonomy? Those earlier fears flooded back—you'd always expressed disgust at forced marriages while talking with your friends, especially those with large age gaps. What of the wedding? The bedding ceremony?

Would your father ensure your safety, or simply trust you to this stranger? You wanted to scream, to tear at your nightgown and the tapestries, perhaps even strike someone. This betrayal cut deep. This man before you—who until five years ago had shared stories of Westeros before you went to bed, who had let you roam freely when well-behaved, who had taught you archery and given you a horse—was fading away as his words sank in. By next year's end, you'd likely be with child.

You shook your head, fighting tears. “I'm not ready.” How could you be? You'd barely spoken with men, especially those not your age. “I'm not even sixteen, by the Seven! I'm not ready to leave you, Mother, or my siblings. I'm not ready for bedding or childbearing. Father, please—tell me this is just a jest I don't like.”

His face darkened with an unfamiliar frown. “You are ready. You're a woman now—it's natural. Your mother had you when she was barely a year older.”

“Is that what you think?”

He tensed at your unprecedented defiance. “Go to your room. You leave in a fortnight.” He returned to his reading. You stared, feeling your soul depart. Where was your father? He who had sworn to protect you until his last breath—had he already drawn it?

Rising reluctantly, you slammed the door, its echo bouncing off cold stone walls. Were you overreacting? True, you could be dramatic, but only in jest. The air felt bitter against your skin as you realized your vulnerability in this violent world, and you made your way to your room.

Behind your closed door, you finally crumbled. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your head throbbed violently. You muffled your sobs behind your hand, curling into a ball on the cold floor, seeking solace or perhaps the Maiden's mercy.

When the crying finally stopped, you weakly pushed yourself up, eyeing the desk across the room. Thoughts of your beloved prince returned. You had to tell him—but how could you defy the realm's heir?

You approached the desk, pen and ink beckoning like whispered promises of help. But you knew better. You were growing up; you must accept your path without complaint.

Settling into the chair, its cold metal details no longer welcoming, you stared at the blank page, wondering what options a girl your age had. None.

You began writing a brief letter to Jace, explaining your situation and apologizing for leaving him against your will.

Soon finished, tear-stained ink marring the page, you folded and sealed it. Your house sigil stood proud on the wax—likely the last time you'd use it before another house's sigil claimed you, along with your name and identity.

The next two weeks brought no joy, you could not look at anything or anyone without a sudden nostalgia filling you.

It hurt, it stung, it felt like betrayal to be sold to a man twice your age—a stranger—by your own family, as if the past years meant nothing. Were they truly so desperate for power?

You tried to reason with your father three times, but each attempt was met with dismissal. “You're old enough to wed and start a family,” he'd say, ignoring your dreams of the prince sweeping you off your feet. Perhaps it was a childish wish, but was it truly so foolish to hope for marriage to someone you loved? Someone you'd be excited to build a life with? In a world where men looked down on women, maybe it was. Still, you never expected your own father to promise you away without seeking your thoughts or offering alternatives.

What pained you most was leaving your family, home, and friends behind. As the eldest sibling, who would care for the little ones when mother was exhausted? Would the wet nurses be as attentive as you? Would your siblings face the same fate, promised away without a choice?

Leaving home felt like being torn from your roots. It was such a beautiful place, with its soft grass and flowers, and that nearby clearing—your favorite hiding spot when you should have been studying the old houses and dynasties of Westeros with your septa.

Now you stand in your chambers, dimly lit by your favorite aromatic candles, their wax melting for what might be the final time. You pack your finest dresses—silk adorned with gold and intricate patterns. After what feels like an eternity, you closed the suitcase firmly, fighting back tears.

You didn't get a lot of sleep that night.

Your head throbbed relentlessly and your eyes were puffy, but your handmaidens quickly tended to you with pain-relieving tea and cool cloths. They brushed your hair until it gleamed, then dressed you in your mother's courtship gown—the blue one with silver embroidery, long sleeves, and flowing skirt. You'd always longed to wear it, but your mother would laugh softly whenever you asked, saying you'd need to be old enough—and tall enough—to fit it properly. That day had finally come, though it felt far from the special occasion you'd imagined.

The castle walls felt different that morning, as if they might swallow you whole at any moment. Pitiful glances and farewells followed your every step, each “thanks” burning in your throat. In the castle's front yard, your family and handmaidens waited. Your siblings' faces were particularly forlorn; you knelt to their level and embraced them fiercely. When you reached your parents, your mother's bone-crushing hug drove the air from your lungs. Her tears soaked your velvet sleeve as she wished you well, assuring you that this Lannister—whose name no one had bothered to share—would treat you kindly. She kissed your forehead one last time before passing you to your father.

After the farewells, you turned toward the carriage, only to feel a tug at your skirt. Your youngest brother stood there, eyes wide. You kissed his head repeatedly, promising to write whenever possible. Then, finally, you stepped into the carriage, leaving your entire life behind.

A/N: I'll try to finish writing the other two chaps asap, wish me luck :')

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nikethestatue · 1 month ago

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Azriel is not like the other boys

HOFAS SPOILERS below

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We often hear that there is no way that Azriel is not fully Illyrian. There are people who absolutely insist that that's all he is, and despite a whole list of 'unusuals' about him, they refuse to acknowledge that he might be something entirely different than just a simple Illyrian.

Setting aside his Seven Siphons and his immense killing power, which he sort of randomly has, alongside Cassian and literally no one else, he is also a Carynthian, a Shadowsinger, and an "illyrian' who can winnow--none of these are capabilities that other Illyrians have. He also carries Truth Teller, a Made weapon, no less.

I was chatting with @shitwillnotbegiven about something unrelated, and then the highlighted paragraph (above) jumped out at me.

In it, we have Vesperus the Asteri who's been kept in a glass coffin for 10K years, and stuck under the Prison, unable to wake or escape. Bryce, Nesta and Azriel happen upon the glass coffin and wake Vesperus up, but don't let her out of the coffin.

Now, if you haven't read HOFAS, a little background: Prythian is/was a land that overflowed with wild natural magic. When the Asteri conquered it, they made the Fae of Prythian pay a Tithe (no doubt the remnants of that custom trickled down all the way to when Tamlin collected the Tithe from his citizens) of their magic, siphoning some of it to sustain themselves.

Let's examine the passage above:

Kneel, soldier. Make the Tithe so I can regain my strength and leave this cage.

Next to Azriel, Nesta (Made) and Bryce (a Starborn visitor from Midgard, which Vesperus isn't familiar with) are standing, and arguably, both Nesta and Bryce are SIGNIFICANTLY more powerful than Azriel.

Yet, Vesperus demands that HE make the Tithe. Not the two (non native) but very powerful Fae.

Now, let's go back allllll the way to early ACOMAF, where Feyre meets the Inner Circle for the first time. When she is introduced to Cassian and Azriel, Cassian jovially announces 'we are just Illyrians' and that they have 'no magic'. The only magic that they possess is the Killing Power, which is controlled by the siphons. Additionally, Rhysand tells Feyre that he couldn't wear the siphons because he kept breaking them, because 'his magic' worked in a different way. He is, of course, only half Illyrian.

Azriel meanwhile, is interesting because he can use the siphons and in fact has a surplus of Killing Power, like Cassian. But he can also control the shadows, because, as he said himself 'that's what he is. He is a Shadowsinger.' BUT, unlike the rest of the Illyrians, he can also winnow and as Cassian said in ACOSF 'Az is different in many ways'.

Now, back to Vesperus and Azriel again.

She asks HIM to make the Tithe. Not Bryce or Nesta (they are both Fae looking and presumably, Vesperus wouldn't know the difference). But, she does, doesn't she?

Because what has sustained her before? Natural Prythian-specific magic that the Fae of Prythian carried. And the only person out of the 3 in front of her that she senses this magic in is...Azriel. That would mean then that Azriel has NATURAL magic, which supposedly Illyrians don't possess at all. That also implies that HIS magic is so ANCIENT that Vesperus immediately recognizes it. It also implies that his magic is so pure that that's what she needs.

But what it also implies is that his natural magic is SO POWERFUL that only a little bit--a Tithe--is strong enough to actually break through Theia's spells and powers, which had kept Vesperus in that glass coffin all this time. Theia, the first Starborn, the one who could outwit an Asteri and imprison her in a glass coffin, the one who became Queen and ruled from Dusk, and the one who found a Rift into Midgard--her power is matched by...Azriel. Because just a little bit of his would seem to break through all of Theia's.

If that doesn't make Azriel more than just an Illyrian, then I don't know what will.

PS. I also thought about Prythian's Tithe, which supposedly everyone has to some degree. Interestingly, Rhys doesn't. He has simple taxation.

This is a whole different post, BUT--what if all the High Lords are part Starborn but also Asteri. What if their magic is also derived from the land, especially the seasonal Courts, where the High Lord is literally responsible for sustaining the season, and the environment is tied to his powers. What if the Tithe is necessary to maintain his magical powers? Kind of like the Asteri needed it to maintain their powers?

And Rhysand, for whatever reason he is part Valg doesn't pull as much from the land itself. His powers are so immense that he exists outside of what Prythian offers.

But like I said, it's a different post.

PSS Isn't it interesting that Elain said that she heard a heartbeat. Through the stones, she heard a heartbeat. With Lucien next to her, she'd assumed that the heartbeat was his. But he couldn't hear the heartbeat. Not hers, not anyone's. What if it wasn't Lucien's at all? What if she heard Vesperus's heartbeat? What if the little gardener who likes to grow things and wants more gardens has NATURAL MAGIC inside of her? What if that was the Cauldron's gift to her? What if she is actually not simply Made, but reborn? Reborn as a Prythain Fae whose magic blossoms and sustains life?

#ACOTAR #HOFAS #acotar theory #ACOTAR meta #Azriel #Azriel's powers #ACOTAR 6 #I have a lot of ideas

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internetegoist · 6 months ago

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Of Shidou Ryusei ; And how his character connects towards sexual trauma

(Content warning: Major mentions of SA/CSA and abuse, minor mentions for NSFW behaviour. Most of them aren't in graphic detail, but please please be wary of it 🙏 There's also spoilers for CSM and A Clockwork Orange)

Shidou's character is one of those that sticks with you throughout the entire series. It feels like we know everything about him, yet there's something so mysterious about his behaviour that makes you wonder, what's with this guy? We know how he acts, his violence and vulgarity injected in his brain and blood, but yet we don't know why he acts the way he is. It is very heavily implied that he went through a sort of restriction, born in a bird cage which he freed himself from through going to Blue Lock, but what is that restriction? What was the bird cage which trapped him? What was it that was holding him back from searching for freedom and exploring the world?

Since then, there's been a large speculation of theories on what his backstory could be. But one of them I want to talk about is about how his backstory is connected to SA, and how he could have experienced it at a young age. At first, I was extremelyyy hesitant to follow it due to how it made me a bit uncomfortable to discuss about, and how I saw a majority of people supporting the theory use it for shock value rather than a chance to devolve into darker topics. Of course, not the case for everyone who supports the theory, just from my own personal experience in the fandom.

But now, I can see the extremely, deeply discomforting vision on how this could be true in a way. From both his favourite manga and movie involving SA as an integral part in the story, to the concerning side of him being slightly revealed in the Egoist Bible. (Eg. crying at the end of the day, when he's feeling nothing or when he's empty, as well as his dislike of gifts)

Due to my heavy interests, I wanted to explore this theory into a more deeper matter. I decided to analyze more of his behaviour, as well as doing some of my own research. I must say, Shidou's behavioral manner can be one that is similar to those of SA survivors, especially male survivors.

Okay okay, enough yapping around. Let me get straight to the point.

Shidou and his instinct's responses

Generally after experiencing sexual abuse, one's entire personality will change. Every behaviour change is different for every sexual abuse survivor. Sometimes they'll isolate themselves more often, sometimes they turn into a much aggressive and violent person. Because the world has failed them, the world is putting them in a place where they are no longer safe and are more vulnerable. Because when your entire sense of self and personal power is taken away by your abuser, you are left with nothing but fear and new survival instincts. Why I bring this up is because Shidou's entire personality is built on instincts. His instant response to even the slightest hint of dislike or threat is to immediately beat them up, no matter who they are. A noteworthy thing to mention is that one of the main responses from males following sexual trauma is anger, because it is more socially acceptable for men to react that way. Attacking someone is the best way of defense, and Shidou follows this way of defense entirely. This also follows up with the stigma with the male ethic of self-reliance, in which help-seeking behaviours can be seen as cowardly or unmasculine.

It's most likely the reason why he also dislikes Kunigami's philosophy of heroes; Considering the fact his entire character is based on wanting to be free from restriction, he must have lived in an environment and/or went through a sort of restriction which influenced his ideals of "I can fend myself, I won't need anyone". The world he has grown up in was nothing but survival against the abuse he went through, so for what purpose should he believe in the principle of a savior, if he himself could have never been saved? It doesn't help either when in real time, there have been many cases where survivors of sexual abuse are either never believed when they speak out about it, or never speak out at all in fear of not being believed.

And besides the fact he uses violence as a defense method, one thing I noticed about Shidou is that during the time he was locked up by Ego for inducing violence onto Rin. We see him, perhaps for the first time, being calm and offering a promise that he'll make sure to stop fighting and hitting others, as long as he is let out of that prison he's trapped in. You see, a common reaction victims will use during the process of the SA is to freeze. To stay silent and still. It's like how animals freeze to avoid fights or further harm to themselves, or play dead in order to prevent getting eaten by predators. Although the outer self may seem to be in a calm state, the inside are on high alert, because they are afraid on what will be their abuser's next moves. The option to fight or run away may seem easy to those who haven't experienced SA, but to the victim it may seem harder than you think. Because freezing is a body's instinct response to abuse, and it'll stay frozen until the abuse is over, it's almost like a human's way of playing dead, so that the assault induced will end sooner. Among the instincts of 'fight, flight, freeze', Shidou seems to use fight the most out of the three. However, when necessary times come necessary measures, Shidou, perhaps for the first time, switches to 'freeze' instead of 'fight'. Not only because he basically, cannot physically fight anyone at that moment, but also because he is afraid. Afraid of being restricted yet again, afraid of not having the chance to live his life, which is to play football. The worst position to be in when you're being hurt or abused is limitation. You can't move, you can't fight, you can't run away from your abuse from happening. Nothing but hope that the abuse happening to you will end soon, that your abuser will stop hurting you. That's exactly what is so terrifying about the freeze responses.

Shidou and his sexual behaviour

If any fan knows anything about Shidou, it's that he's not afraid to speak out what's on his mind, especially lewd and inappropriate words. More or less, this can be connecting to something called hypersexuality. Accordingly, hypersexuality is defined as an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that can't be controlled. Hypersexuality can not only cause distress, but also problems in school and workplace.

Survivors of sexual abuse cope in one of the two ways: Either by avoiding sexual or intimidate interactions entirely, or seeking said interactions on a large and unhealthy scale. According to this article, a majority of men who suffer from hypersexuality or sex addiction have been either physically or sexually abused in their childhood.

We see Shidou quite literally compare scoring a goal in football, to sexual intercourse. (And also the part where he says he's gonna blow his load, with Sae also dismissing it, but it's just partners supporting each other!)

By now, we know that two things that Shidou is unable to separate from each other is life and football. Both the act of life and the act of playing football is interconnected. Because football is something that allows him to leave a mark, allows him to be known by the world. Because football is a biological phenomenon to him, rather than just a sport.

And yes sure, this is supposed to be a connection to his philosophy of leaving a mark on others, so that you can be remembered. But also remember what he says in his monologue: "Those who create something, those who want to become something, and of course, those who make children." The way humans create life is through intimacy, through intercourse. The two people engaging leave a mark on each other through creating that life, that child.

And while speaking about his monologue of leaving a mark, Shidou also mentions that wounding others are a way of leaving behind a proof of existence. Inducing abuse whether it'd be physical, emotional or sexual, can also be one of the ways to make someone remember you.

The abuser leaves the mark on the victim, the mentioned mark left on them can be seen as PTSD or trauma symptoms.

Abuse is not something you can just simply turn away, forget or overlook. Whether the effects of trauma are short-term or long-term, they are there, they are a proof of existence that it happened. Shidou's inability to separate the physical act of football and the biological act of life's desires, especially sexual desires, can be seen as hypersexuality. Hypersexuality can also be seen as a mark left onto the victim. And it's extremely lengthy to recover and remove those marks left on you.

Of Freedom and Shidou Ryusei

I think Shidou Ryusei and his obsession with freedom is something so interesting about his character, yet so many people tend to ignore it as a significant part of him. Because imagine if one day out of the blue, your entire bodily autonomy gets taken away from you, you're trapped in a cycle of repetitive abuse onto you. When it's finally over and you have control over everything again, the world suddenly feels so utterly different. So what do you do? Of course, cling onto that freedom that is now yours.

Bite any other hand that may seem like it's trying to take it away, because if there is one thing you do not ever want to repeat, it is someone isolating you once more against the world. So hold on tightly to the freedom you now have, and make sure it stays with you for eternity.

All of Shidou's favourite things, his favourite film, manga and song, are also connected to this in a way.

It would take too long for me to get into detail about both Chainsaw Man and A Clockwork Orange, but I want to say that both media and their protagonists have approaches to freedom of life and choice.

In Chainsaw Man, Denji is a child that has been depraved of even the basic of human needs; Just like Shidou, he wants to claim everything in his current life and not return to when he had nothing when he was a child. In A Clockwork Orange, Alexander who in the beginning of the movie has been committing heinous crimes with no one to stop him, is captured and put through inhumane experiments in order to rehabilitate him. His entire freedom is taken away from him and for the next hour, we see him go through immense suffering and torture by those who he had wronged to the point he attempts to commit suicide through jumping off a window. In the end, it doesn't seem like his mindset has changed at all. It makes us question whether or not letting someone be free to do anything they want is the better option even if it hurts others, rather than attempt to isolate them in order to transform them into a better human being.

I would like to talk a little about his favourite artist. For a bit of context, hide is popular for being an icon of rebellion against Japan's conformist society, and one of his songs PINK SPIDER, is listed as Shidou's favourite song according to the official Blue Lock Egoist Bible. I've seen a lot of interpretations of what the song truly means, but the main story is that it's about a spider trapped within and kills anything near it. Because it wishes to free itself away, it steals a butterfly's wings. It attempts to fly, and fails, and tries again. Whether or not the spider did actually succeeded in flying away is unknown to us. But, that's not all!

Around the chapter where Shidou scores a goal, the commenter calls it a 'rocket diving header'. This can lead to one of hide's other songs in the same album as PINK SPIDER, rocket dive; a song with the similar approach of freedom but with different tones. Compared to PINK SPIDER, rocket dive has a more cheerful approach. In the end of the song, the star mentioned in rocket dive successfully flies away and appears as a new shooting star in the sky.

Which brings me to point out something: Shidou Ryusei's birthday is on Tanabata, a type of Japanese celebration called the Star Festival which is celebrated on the seventh day of the seventh month.

His name, Ryusei, is also a homophone for shooting star in Japanese.

Shidou, born as a star on the day where two lover stars meet, yet when he was born, he was not allowed to fly and join the others in the sky.

But he overcame everything, achieved that dream of having the freedom to do whatever he wants. And even though he went through all that pain, all that abuse, and most likely had to learn how to escape by himself through football before Blue Lock, he made it come true, like a spell.

And eventually, he learnt how to fly, and let the world knew who he was.

#cw child abuse #cw csa #shidou ryusei #blue lock #bllk #ryusei shidou #shidou ryuusei #character analysis #bllk analysis #character study #character examination #i deeply apologize for the repetitive words and any mistakes i made it's so late i can't be bothered to fix it until tomorrow #this is my first time writing such a long analysis and posting it publicly. please be nice to me.#i worked on this shit for TWO WEEKS and will probably not like it later but you know what it's better to never post anything at all

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 2 years ago

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Things from the ruin dlc that keep me up at night.

Spoilers under the cut.

SERIOUSLY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE AVOIDING SPOILERS.

Disclaimer: I wrote this before I had seen Everything the DLC has to offer or all the endings yet. I was on the wrong track, but I think my cooking before I knew everything was good cooking. I have more concrete theories now under #danachan's rants

Something that I was 100% right about that I was going to write into Lofi eventually.... But I guess I'll talk about it now since the dlc confirmed it.

But Balloon Boy world was literally Eclipses cage as I suspected. It was suppressing them. It wasn't an evil arcade or Eclipse was living in there. Eclipse's AI was being suppressed in the arcade cabinet.

Eclipse is how they talk to eachother, and Eclipse was asleep and completely blocked off from the Virus. So Sun and Moon had no communication with eachother anymore. Which is why they were both so stressed and lost.

I was astounded I got that completely correct in regards to what Eclipse is, and what the balloon boy game is.

(the dlc does not explain the Dcas weird connection to Vanessa and why the arcade cabinet was in Afton's boss fight room though)

Bonus points Moon talks exactly how I write him when speaking about the Sun and the Moon.

Another thing that has been mind-blowing me that all the comic book endings are scenarios that GREGORY DREW.

And according to the dlc....

The Afton Burntrap Blob ending is another one of those endings that he drew.

Which means Peepaw Afton and the Blob were never real in the first place.

Which is why no one could really figure out what the blob is.

It doesn't exist.

Princess Quest ending was the canon ending.

Vanessa leaving the Pizzaplex with Gregory is the canon ending.

The ending where you fight Afton in the basement.... Never happened and was just Gregory attempting to make sense of the FNAF lore that Vanessa probably explained to him. Since in the DLC, we do find a book about Fazbear History in Vanny's room.

I honestly don't know if Steel Wool retroactively made Burntrap non-canon due to everyone making fun of him, not taking him seriously and hating the blob, or if this was always the case. Because despite the Afton ending being the hardest to get.... It's still a two star ending.

So it's hard and too early for me to tell if I want to give them points for that soft retcon. I mean I don't blame them honestly.

But yeah. Skeleton man Afton in the basement and his best friend the Blob isn't actually real, and neither is Freddy's "I am not me" speech either.... Which honestly makes sense. Because it's all Gregory's comic book trying to make sense of FNAF Lore he doesn't understand.

Also, I can say definitively, and finally, Afton is not the Mimic. Glitchtrap exists as its own entity in this, and the Mimic seems to have its own agenda. It's unclear if Afton is possessing the Mimic via virus corruption, but for now, I believe the Mimic is acting of its own will.

And man oh man. I feel so sorry for people who haven't been keeping up with Tales of the Pizzaplex Books.

The ending of the dlc is just really "who's Henry???" From pizzasim all over again huh....

Anyways. Those are my thoughts. I will be streaming the dlc again tomorrow. Gonna try and get a better ending, but I have a suspicion they're all sad.

#fnaf #fnaf sb spoilers #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin dlc #fnaf ruin #dlc ruin #ruin dlc spoilers #fnaf ruin dlc spoilers #danachan's rants

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shini--chan · 18 days ago

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Hello, I recently read your latest yandere Overhaul fic (by the way, I loved it, it's very true to the character, congratulations!) And I've been thinking about a scenario with poly!Chronohaul (sorry, I don't know if you write "poly") where the reader runs away and encounters a hero (not very creative, but I was curious).

Sorry my english

Hello there, don't worry, your English is better than you think. Let's se what I can whip up here:

Yandere Chronohaul x Reader - Blindspot

Word count: ~9k Synopnsis: Exploiting a moment of their weakness, you manage to escape. Luck seems to be on your side, you even find shelter by a pro-hero, then it isn't anymore. Trigger warnings: discussions of kidnapping, isolation and punishment and gore. Rated mature (further warnings not mentioned to prevent spoilers.)

Were it under other circumstances, you would have taken the time to enjoy being outside for the first time in months. Even the stale city air of Mustafaa was refreshing compared to the recycled and sanitised air you got down in the Yakuza basement. Your heart was beating as fast as that of a mouse and anxiety made your senses sharp. Every rustle of leaves, every flash of lights in the distance and the commotion of a neighborhood slowly falling asleep made your fear spike. Which was influencing you more - the rabbit-like fear of running from danger, or having spent so much time in sterile circumstances with set parameters that you were now overwhelmed.

Your muscles were severely atrophied. Each step made your legs burn and your lungs ache, yet you continued to push yourself forwards. After all, with each passing second they could be closing in on you, finally having noticed your absence. It really was a stroke of luck that you managed to slip through the cracks. While your more outrageous escape attempts had died down months ago, you had nevertheless kept a watchful eye out for any cracks in Chisaki’s elaborate cage.

Imagine your surprise when one domino tripped another one over, and a party of some kind gave you the opening you needed. Carefully bent hair pins had opened the door, and it had been easy to lull the sleepy and intoxicated guard to sleep. The commotion upstairs had overshadowed any noises your scampering had caused. Yet …

Kurono and Chisaki weren’t to be taken lightly, and one or the other or both could have been on their way to seek some peace and quiet in the comfort of your arms when you finally managed to slip out the kitchen window.

Best get to the busier inner city instead of remaining stuck in the suburbs - with all the people around, they would have a harder time finding you. Not to mention that they wouldn’t be able to just swoop in and scoop you up. The question was if you would even make it that far. Yet you just seemed to be stumbling into ever filthier and rundown neighborhoods.

Your vision was already swimming from all the physical exertion and you were starting to feel slightly nauseous. The past months had featured a calculated diet and a lifestyle tailored for that of a precious human doll, not an ordinary citizen or even an athlete. Finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore and unceremoniously collapsed on a bench by the road. The squeak of protest the metal gave grated in your ears.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down. The coppery taste of your own blood lingered in the back of your throat and you felt awfully queasy. Above you, the tree branches and the electric cables swam. Closing your eyes only brought you minor relief. You leaned forward and rested your head on your knees.

What on earth should you do now? Where could you go where neither Chisaki nor Kuruno would find you? Your old life wasn't much of an option - it would be the first place they would look and your loved ones would be the first people they would threaten. While you had managed to swipe some money on your way out, as well as some other bits and bobs, it wouldn't last you forever.

The wind weaving through your tresses reminded you too much of Chrono running his fingers through your hair. He had forced you to grow it out, much to his friend's charigin. The memory caused an involuntary shiver to shake your body.

Now that the adrenaline high was gradually abating, and you were no longer keeping yourself hot by running, the winter chill was making itself noticeable. The cold sweat on your brow and your back made you shiver in spite of the oversized coat you were wearing. Instinctively you drew yourself closer together. To make matters worse, you weren't even wearing proper shoes and the linen of the indoor loafers were soaked through. Now that you paid attention, you couldn't feel your toes anymore.

To confirm your fears, you scuffed your foot against some of the snow on the ground. A strange jolt shot up your leg and the absence of feeling in your toes was more noticeable. It was like having rubber mockups attached to your foot instead of actual flesh-and-blood appendages. You swore under your breath. All the movement made you more ill. The nausea was coupled with dizziness now.

You could already hear Chiskai tutting at your pathetic state and explaining in that oh so condescending voice of his that this was what you rightfully got for running away. He was like oil - slick and slippery and contaminating in a way that you would never be able to get rid of him. You’d forever have his voice whispering in your head as an embodiment of your doubts and fear. It wasn’t aided by the fact that he was right so often. Bad girls like you always got the shorter end of the stick due to not listening to their betters. If only you’d listen to his guidance and treat it like the gospel it was, then…

“Are you alright, kid?”

A voice tore you from your spiralling thoughts and you startled. Before you, there was a middle aged man in a gaudy hero costume.

You couldn't stop shivering. At this point, it was no longer due to the winter cold or your wet clothing. The soaked garments had long since been discarded and banished to a bucket in the bathroom. Now you were huddled on a couch and dressed in baggy clothing graciously provided by your saviour. Canine Instinct, the hero who had given you refuge, gave you a concerned look and carefully handed you a lidded mug with a straw in it.

“Careful there. Drink slowly but drink everything, alright? It is just lukewarm, not hot, so don't worry about burning your tongue. You are now coming down from your adrenaline high and you also spent a lot of time out in the cold. So you need sugar now, or else you'll crash”, he cautioned you.

While you knew that the cup was just warm, yet it burned to touch from the roots of your palms to your fingertips as you accepted it. Feeling re-entered your fingers painfully, and your flesh tingled uncomfortably. With trembling hands you lifted the beverage and took some careful and slow sips through the straw.

The rich, creamy flavour of hot chocolate flooded your senses. Having something so decadent and aromatic after months of a strictly controlled diet really was a treat, utter heaven to be precise. It provided some form of comfort and eased the marrow deep fear that was making you quake.

Sighing, you allowed yourself to sink into the couch. Tension bleed from your shoulders and extremities, and you turned your focus away from your surroundings and zeroed in on the treat.

All of this, running away and finally being free, finally no longer having to cater to the whims of two eccentric men, finally not having to abide by their stringent rules any longer, had felt so surreal. It still did, though you were no longer neigh fully convinced that this was all a pipe dream or an elaborate hallucination. There was still the ember of doubt in the back of your mind, nagging that this was all a trap that was about to spring shut at any moment.

Yet what would you do if it really was a trap? As of now, you were too vulnerable and sluggish to escape or also defend yourself. If you had stayed outside, you would have frozen to death sooner or later, if the hero would have even let you commit such a passive suicide. Overhaul's care had made you soft and fragile - yet another reason to loathe him.

“Thanks a lot”, you rasped in between sips. The ruggish features of your rescuer soften to a small smile. He rolled his shoulders and the ripples beneath the blue-yellow hero costume spoke of a healthy and trained body. “Just doing what was proper, kid.”

It was cute how the hero was downright sheepish now. He rubbed the back of his head and pointedly avoided eye contact by staring off to the side. Your heart started to hammer and your cheeks burned. Yet you were quick to shake yourself out of it and you averted your gaze as well.

Now was not the time to bat eyes at strangers, you admonished yourself. Was it because of your prior social isolation that you were now extraordinarily sensitive to new people? It would make sense; you had avoided developing fuzzy feelings for either Chisaki or Kurono and now that a somewhat passable person had presented himself, you were becoming emotional.

Or you were being a stereotypical damsel in distress. All too quick to be charmed by the knight in shining armour. All too eager to sow a bright future and glorious future now that you were no longer in danger.

Your shivering had died down, now that had introduced some sugar into your system. The silence between the two of you was now awkward. His hand switched from the back of his neck to his arm, and he rubbed the polyester fabric thoughtfully. The silence that reigned was awkward and it made your skin crawl. You rubbed your feet together beneath the blanket and prayed for another miracle to happen. Anxiety made your heart flutter, you tightened your fingers around the ceramic in your hands.

“You must still be cold! I’ll go get the heater”, he mumbled. Before you could say anything to that, he already slipped out of the room and left you on your lonesome.

With a sigh, you sunk into yourself and angrily nursed your beverage. Mind you, you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at yourself. Clearly spending months on end locked away in some Yakuza base of operation had severely degraded your social skills, amongst other things. Seeing the same set of faces, and only really being allowed to converse with two of them hadn’t done you any favours. While in their tender care, you thought you might die due to sheer boredom or a scorned Chisaki or Kurono. Now, you were evidently in danger of finding your end due to social anxiety and emotional clumsiness.

Once upon a time, you had struck conversations with strangers on the train while travelling. That all had rotten away to reduce you to being an emotional mess once you saw an unfamiliar person. Looking back, it was a stroke of macabre luck that you had been too out of it due to exhaustion and the beginnings of hypothermia to panic when the hero had approached you an hour or so ago to think about social implications. Even though both of them were the root of this development, you could very well imagine your kidnappers citing this as a reason as to why you had to be shielded from the rest of the world.

Taking a large gulp of hot chocolate and thus finishing off the mug, you placed it on the coffee table next to the musty sofa. With nothing better to do, other than stew in your own misery, you decided to take a good look around the room.

It was tidy if cramped, and it spoke of a person that wasn’t home often. While there were books stuffed in the shelves and knicknacks strewn across window sills and countertops there was a layer of dust over everything and an odd sort of lifelessness to this living room. There were no photos or items out of order - it looked more like a room from one of those sterile stock photographs. It was sad, because even Chisaki’s office had more of a personal touch to it than this apartment.

Canine Instinct marched through the living room door the next moment, a portable heater in hand. The device was plugged in, and he placed it close to you. The switch was flipped and the heater came to life with an audible whirl and hum. Soon, it enemated a comfortable warmth. You stretched your legs out and flexed your toes.

“Don’t go too close. We don’t need you setting the blanket or your socks on fire”, he warned you. The floundering from before had disappeared out the window now that he could play protector again. You didn’t know whether to label his attention demeaning or flattering. Instead of reprimanding him, you just giggled quietly. Mixed feelings really are a pain.

“Yeah, thanks for the warning. The brain fog is lifting so I don't think I'm gonna do anything rash soon.”

He settled down on the couch, all while maintaining a respectable distance from you. Not that body contact would throw you off centre, at least not when it would be coming from him. Not when he had half-carried you to his home. It had been maddening how he had barked at you to keep your legs moving, lest you be unable to move them. Only Overhaul's punishments of drugging you up to the gills had prevented you from expressing your annoyance beyond facial expressions.

“It was very lucky that you found me out there, and I can't thank you enough”, you started. While your times as an unwilling shut-in had degraded your social skills and the tact needed to navigate interpersonal situations, it hadn't eroded your manners. Best start there and build up on that basis.

“I hope that I didn't interrupt anything important, Canine Instinct.”

The hero scoffed and shook his head, the brown-black hair swaying as he did so. He appeared to be oddly tired at that moment.

“Don’t mention it. And call me Teru. Too many people throw up their hands nowadays when somebody else is in need. This was the least I can do”, he explained. Next to the derision aimed at the everyman, there was a jaded quality to his voice. It stood in sharp contrast to his fumbling behaviour from earlier.

You shifted so that you were facing him. The makeshift underwear fashioned out of torn bed sheets chafed at your too soft skin as you did so. He had given you his name, that was a good sign that you weren’t being too rigid in his gestures, and that he was warming up to you.

“And because it is not a certain thing there is only more reason to be thankful”, you protested. Here, you were earnest. If he had come a bit later, then the negative consequences of your actions would have been more severe, or even permanent. Or even worse, maybe your two kidnappers would have found you. “You did save my life, Teru. It is hard not to be thankful.”

Blue eyes looked at you thoughtfully and he imitated your gesture by angling his torso to face you as well. He studied you from a moment, and you felt your skin crawl in anticipation.

“It seems like I have”, Teru finally muttered. It was contemplative and said with wonder. Wasn’t this guy a hero though? Didn’t he swoop around to save people daily?

Suppressing nervous laughter, you turned to ask him: “What were you doing outside? Was it one of your patrols?” By no means could you claim to really know what hero work entailed, with you only aware of the one or the other aspect of it through the news and also pop culture.

Your host leaned back into the musty sofa and closed his eyes.

“Something like that. Not really patrols in the traditional sense, more of a scouting of the neighborhood and analysing weak points and blind spots”, he elaborated. That wasn’t exactly comforting news. Had you stumbled into the arms of a villain?

He opened his eyes once more and fixed you with a calculating expression.

“I'm just in the area to investigate a series of break-ins. You wouldn't happen to be the villain behind those?”

Your face flushed and you felt mortified for a moment. Being put in the spotlight so suddenly was extremely unpleasant. And how could he just straight up accuse you of commiting crimes? Had he just taken you in to nurse you back to health and then interrogate you and slap the handcuffs on your wrists? Worse still, how could you convince him of your innocence without looking like an idiot? It wasn’t like you really had a verifiable alibi. The laughable notion of pulling Kurono up to testify that you had been in mafia hands and incapable of committing any burglaries came to mind.

Then it rushed away as the absurdity of the situation dawned on you and you began to chuckle. Soon you were laughing so hard, that your whole body was shaking and your muscles were beginning to ache again. It was exhilarating - you had gone around with a dour attitude for what felt like a lifetime, and this was a very welcome change of pace.

As a pleasant surprise, he joined in and his face shone with mirth. The hero looked far better with a genuine smile on his face. For a few seconds, the jadedness and the exhaustion melted away. The two of you sat there, laughter ebbing and rising as the humour resonated between the two of you.

“As sorry as I am for shocking you, you should have seen the look on your face!”, he pressed out once both your faces were more than just flushed from all the chucking and giggling.

His laughter came from the belly, and fully matched the smokey baritone he had. As he passed into chortling again, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes became deeper. In turn, you tempered yourself for a few moments in order to stop laughing.

“That was very mean of you. You really had me convinced that you were going to arrest me for a moment”, you chided him. The past you might have gone as far as to playfully swat at him, though that person had long since become a matter of the past.

Teru now wore a more comfortable and lighthearted expression. “I know that my brand of humour is very dark and not everybody’s cup of tea. It was definitely worth the try, seeing how tense and on guard you were being”, he elaborated.

Upon his mention of it, you realised your own rigid body language. Despite allowing your body as a whole to sink into the cushions, your shoulders were still slightly hunched and there was tension in your arm and leg muscles. The pain of hyper tense muscles travelled up your back as you cocked your head. Without a doubt, your back was probably as hard as a stone due to all the stiffened muscles; a product of the past few months. Taking a few deep breaths, you consciously unwound the tension in your extremities and lowered your shoulders.

After the bout of merriment and manually relaxing your body, you indeed felt better.

“Sorry about that. It is just that I have been through so much that it is hard to feel safe, even when I logically know that I am.”

The man next you let out a loud exhale and fully turned to you. His body language was open and relaxed, purposefully so. Teru did his best to school his features to a warm and receptive expression - not an easy task for a man with such sharp features. His countenance only softened marginally. There was pity as well, and you couldn't define if the emotion spreading in your chest was relief or frustration.

“It is hard to miss that. You clam up every now and then, you act more like a frightened bunny that is being chased than a human being. While I'm not the most sociable person, I'll still listen to you if you want to talk about your experiences. Best not to be left alone with your thoughts after all”, he said.

In spite of his kind words, you were hesitant to share your burden. Grabbing the edges of the blanket, you cocooned yourself further. Opening your heart would mean exposing yourself to potential attacks and making yourself vulnerable. As tempting as it was to purge the wound of pus, it was nearly safer to keep everything inside. So you stewed in your misery, the concoction becoming more viscous by the minute. Soon you would never be able to free yourself.

What made it worse was that Kurono had been like this all too often. The kidnapper had insisted that you call him Hari and had plied you with books and blankets and fresh fruit. When he had talked with you, it had often been in a soft, warm tone that was more suited for luring in wild animals than conversing with a human. His reasoning had been sound, and with what he had said, you had thought that he emphasised with you. Consequently, you had stepped in his trap, and when he finally revealed his true colours, he had had enough intel to surpass or even rip your defenses down.

Teru sunk into himself after a few minutes of enduring your silence and ran a hand through his hair. Then he rubbed both hands up and down his thighs and sighed shakily. Eyes averted and directed to a distant point out the window, he eventually started talking about himself:

“I’m kind of a mixed bag when it comes to hero work. My quirk enhances all of my senses, for one, so I had a pretty terrible childhood, but that is another can of worms. For most of my career, I’ve been tasked with searching missing people.

“It is hard, gruelling work most of the time, even with a quirk suited for the task. While it is always a delight to find people that had simply gotten lost and were grateful to be rescued and brought home, it wasn't always the case. Far more often we'd find people that were the victims of villains, especially in the years when Almight was in America.”

He gave you a sombre and meaningful look. There was pain in his eyes, and finally it occured to you that all the discrepancies that you were picking up from him were due to him being jaded, of his bitter experiences clashing with his more caring base nature. Your fingers flexed.

“It could be anything from a disorientated or frightened girl to a man mutilated beyond recognition. Often, there wasn’t enough time to give the search party a full briefing, since any search is a race against time, with how things currently are. Therefore, we were never sure what we would find. Most of the time, it would be a terrible surprise that would leave the new members on the team retching, and the seasoned ones with sleepless nights. It is always terrible to have to pack somebody in a body bag and console the families afterwards.

“It is even worse when the person you searched for is dead by their own hand. Suicide never takes pain out of the world, it only transfers it to the people left behind. What follows is worse than usual grief because everybody blames themselves. But most of the time, there are no easy solutions to suicidality. Let me stop here before I divulge into philosophical rambling”, he explained. Towards the end, his voice grew thick and his eyes glassy. He turned his head with a sniff.

Once he gathered his bearings, he turned back to you. He took a shaky breath and quirked his lips to a false smile. Such an expression would be more suited on a softer face; on him, it only accentuated his pain.

“I hung the hat there a few months ago because it just became too much. As of now, I’m concerning myself with easier tasks, like investigating and catching burglars.” He made a sweeping gesture to the living room the two of you were seated in. “As you can see, this place is used and not really lived in yet. Comes from me drowning myself in work to not have to deal with the Gordian knot that is my past. Emotions can really be a pest. Friday nights are for the bar, and the bartender is the closest to a therapist that I can get. I’ve see the best and the worst of humanity, so much so that I can’t bear simply brushing somebody in need aside.”

The latter part of his tale was told in choppy sentences and his words were bittersweet. Teru had opened his heart to you to make you feel more at ease, which was more than anybody had done for you for a long time. To Kurono you had been akin to a pet, and to Chisaki, a doll. Nevertheless, this also pulled on your heart strings and put pressure on you to reciprocate the gesture.

“I am … sorry for what you had to go through. I know that you’ve been through a lot and to be honest, I don’t really know what to say”, you started. It was true, after all. How did you respond to a hero that elaborated on harsh work experience?

Your rescuer let out a small, barking laugh. “While I can understand you now feel the need to console me, you really don’t have to. This was an olive branch.”

You weighed your options and drew your knees to your chest. Your knee jerk instinct was to make up a lie that would be less embarrassing and exposing. Something like being a rich kid that had run away from home, or a tourist that had been mugged. Eventually though, you conceded at any tall tales that you could spin would only come back to bite you. The bitter, disgusting truth it would have to be.

“I was kidnapped by the Yakuza”, you stated. You paused there to gauge his reaction. There was a sharp inhale on his end and some muttered, intelligible cursing. He looked like he wanted to take the reins in his hands and launch into a questioning. Instead, he held himself back, and gave you a stiff nod to continue.

“I don't know what the usual story is of people roped in for organised crime, at least not entirely. There wasn't any fake modeling agency nor had I taken any money in the form of a loan from them. Actually, I didn't have any contact with them and was living a normal life. Things were not spectacular in any way; not very good, nor very bad”, you elaborated.

You forced yourself to unfurl your limbs and stretch. The flesh wasn't as numb as before and there was a pleasant burn as you extended your legs and pointed your toes. Tension curled in your abdomen, like a venomous snake ready to strike. With a shaky exhale you pushed yourself to continue.

“I didn't notice that I was being stalked at first. To me, it was always one of those things that only happen to other people, so I was in denial for the longest time. At first, it was also so easy to brush off as me having an overactive imagination.”

Not being able to contain your fidgeting, you reached forward to snatch the cup. With it in your hands, your twitching and tensing and scratching wouldn't be that obvious. His kindness and hospitality aside, you had still had been an involuntary recluse for the longest time, and furthermore the kidnapping wasn't the easiest thing to talk about.

“Then the gifts started appearing.”

You could recall it with painful clarity. The roses and the candied fruits had been sweet in the beginning, so much so that you had been able to brush the uneasiness aside. Naive as you had been, you had convinced yourself it was just the shy gestures of an acquaintance or co-worker.

“It was normal at first, and easy enough to just label as some cheesy romantic gesture. Then, the gifts started getting weirder and weirder. I got leather gloves and an elaborate filter mask. Next, there were outdated books on quirk theory. These were all things that just popped up on my doorstep, or in my mailbox.

“Then the stalking became more invasive. The gifts started appearing in my apartment, and with letters as well. I was told to avoid people, to not engage with heroes or villains and not to go to the police unless I wanted people to die. Things were stolen or misplaced and they started controlling my diet by replacing food items in my fridge and pantry. I became a nervous wreck and started to isolate myself because I didn't have the slightest clue who it was and who it wasn't.

“Me being at home didn't stop the buglaring or the gift-giving. It only brought me face to face with them and resulted in me getting abducted by the Shie Hassikai.”

Your voice cracked at the end and you were so swept up in emotions that you couldn't continue. Tears spilled down your cheeks and you bowed your head in shame of your own emotional vulnerability. Days upon days you had refused to let yourself dwell on what had happened; it was not like pondering on the what-ifs and has-beens would have improved your situation in any way. You had avoided letting yourself think about that “courtship” in order to not crack.

The hero shifted closer to you, and lay a tentative hand on your back. When you didn’t flinch away, he caressed you.

“Did they want you because of your quirk?”, he asked.

You scoffed derisively. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Though, he wasn’t at fault for asking such a question. Many kidnappings happened in order to utilise somebody’s quirk, or to … establish a new bloodline. It had been ironic luck that Kai Chisaki hadn’t been enthralled with you due to your powers.

“That occured to me as well in the beginning. But the Hassikai aren’t typical villains or like normal organised crime. They want to remove quirks from people”, you spat. You had been so naive in the beginning - you nearly missed those times. Actually knowing the nature and direction of Chisaki’s ambitions was worse.

A sharp gasp left your companion and he ceased his comforting gestures. Indeed, he even sprung to his feet and started pacing.

“Anti-quirk Yakuza, ha? That is very strange and concerning. Did they kidnap you because you are quirkless?”

To that, you shook your head quickly and flinched. While you had avoided being depicted as a human trafficking victim, there was the chance that he would decide that you had fallen prey to human experimentation. All of this was tiresome and tedious and soured acid on a festering wound. Even after he had taken you seriously and not lambasted or ridiculed your hardships, you still felt shame for what happened. While this was akin to draining the pus from an infection, it was still painful and highly unpleasant. Besides, how to make him understand without making it look like you sympathised with Overhaul’s cause. His goals and motivations weren’t of the common flavour and even less comprehensible to most.

That was the issue with explaining Overhaul: he didn't mind quirks, he didn't even mind quirk usage. What he detested was how quirks had changed society, had turned society into a hoard of eternal adolescents and the country into a playground. All these heroes and villains just smash up creatures and things, and then retreat back to their vast carelessness, according to him. Others were then left to pick up the pieces, and clean up the mess they made.

And then there were the ordinary people, who refused to lift a finger to help others because there surely was a hero closeby. Scientific development had stagnated and even regressed in some fields, and the current culture was one that catered to humanity's vices. Chisaki Kai didn't want to destroy quirks, he wanted to destroy hero society and then fashion something new and “healthy” from the ashes.

Overhaul's view was completely alien to most people and it didn't help that he tended to explain it through the lenses of his mysophobia. It had much time and frustration on his part, and much confusion and horror on yours until you had finally understood his rants. You probably only hadn't ended up as a smear on the wall because he had deemed making you understand his point of view to be of utmost importance. Overhaul had yearned for your love and sympathy and support, and had tried to gain it by breaking down his ambitions.

His world view was nearly incomprehensible to a quirk based society, so how on earth could you convey the gravitas and severity of his endeavour without being misunderstood yourself? To make matters worse, Chisaki's scheme of overhauling society even had a high chance of success.

You were about to lay out careful arguments and try to make him comprehend in a few minutes what had taken you weeks to grasp when the sound of a window shattering tore you out of contemplation. Teru immediately stopped pacing and you dropped the cup in your hand out of surprise.

Thankfully, it only fell onto your lap. The lid came undone and a few stray droplets darkened the blue blanket. All the tension that had bled from you the past minutes returned to you all at once and your heart rate shot up.

The hero's attention reflexively went in the direction of the commotion. In the next few moments, you were both motionless and silent as your ears strained to catch further noises. A high note of glass clattering heightened the suspense.

“Hide yourself somewhere close by and don't come out until I say the coast is clear. I'm going to go deal with these burglars”, he announced and then briskly set off to put himself in danger.

Being left alone was very daunting and you were tempted to call out to him and beg him to stay. A very selfish request and you forced yourself to stay silent. Your eyes followed him as he marched away. He didn't even bother with quieting his steps. You swallowed nervously.

Despite feeling lightheaded from fear, you willed yourself to stand up. Your heart was in your throat and you flexed your hands as you considered your next course of action.

Hiding in the living room would be the most obvious course of action. Therein lay the problem - if the criminals were out for blood, then of course they would check every nook and cranny of this room. Even if they were just out for valuables, then the living room still wasn't a safe place to stay.

Best hide yourself somewhere that couldn't possibly hold any valuables. With that thought in mind, you exited the living room, and then decided to head in the opposite direction of the commotion. You were still undecided about your hiding place when you passed the entry way and noticed motion in your periphery.

Just in time you turned your head to see the door swing open on silent hinges. There was no sound of it being unlocked or the tell-tale sound of the door handle being pressed down. Instead there was only the rustle of the lock disintegrating to particles and the exasperated sigh of Chisaki when he layed eyes on you.

You froze, like a rabbit that had just noticed the fox leering at it with hungry eyes. This really was one of the worst outcomes that could have been. Your mind blanked. Gold eyes fixed you with exasperated amusement. Nothing far from the usual and that was the worst part of it.

“I really had envisioned an evening that didn't involve running around and picking up runaways. Now don't drag out the inevitable and come here”, he told you. One gloved hand was outstretched.

The audacity of him to treat you like an unruly puppy, instead of a suffering person that yearned to leave all the hardships behind. It was sickening. It was disgusting. And the big problem here was that he thought he was being righteous and that you were being disagreeable. There he stood in the doorway just out of reach of the light’s rays. He was a spectre that had returned to haunt you, and he would never let you have peace. If you weren’t careful, he would drag you to hell with you in tow.

Slowly, you backed away from him, all while shaking your head. By now, you were hyperventilating, and his dismayed attitude only made you more distraught. Fresh tears started to spring from your eyes, and your lungs constricted with the beginnings of hyperventilation.

“Why do you have to make things so difficult? Can’t you see that I just want the best for you? Staying amongst this sickened society would have only made you fall prey to Hero Syndrome sooner or later. I just want to save you, I just want to keep you safe, and you treat me like a monster”, he criticised you and there was finally some more emotion in his raspy voice, even if it was just condensation.

Chisaki stepped into the light, the messing outline of the plague doctor mask he loved to wear shining. Droplets of water made the obnoxious purple fluff of his jacket shine. A new pair of latex gloves were snapped over the ones he was already wearing and he passed the genkan step to make his way over to you.

That was when fear kicked you into moving, and moving fast. You stumbled back where you came from and darted into the living room. From what you could hear, he didn’t even bother running after you and instead pursued you at a leisurely pace. A quick look over your shoulder told you that he was slowly becoming angry at your perceived insolence.

The door was hastily slammed shut behind you. Without having time to search for a better place to hide, scrammed to a small storage closet and squeezed yourself inside, taking as much care as you could to not knock over the vacuum cleaner inside. As quietly as possible, you closed the door again and crouched down. Right in the nick of time as well, because you had just closed the door when the living room door opened again.

You covered your mouth with a hand to muffle your breathing and you turned the impulse to jump in shock into a flinch when the living room door made a soft knock against your hiding place. Overhaul didn’t bother masking his steps as he sauntered into the room.

“I had planned to spend a relaxing evening with you. Heavens know that I needed it, especially after having to deal with that brat and all those incompetents. Then I come down to your room, only to find that you had knocked out your guard and run away. Just when you seemed to truly be coming around, just when you seemed to finally understand the rightness of my actions, you have to pull a stunt like this. Pet, you have no idea how disappointed I am in you”, your tormentor mused.

You listened as he walked around the living room. There was a loud squeak as he moved the couch, doubtlessly to check if you were under it.

“As much as I love you, it is moments like this that make me really want to tear my hair out. Here I thought that once I made you understand the importance of my work, I could grant you more freedoms. I was looking forward to not having to monitor your every move, and to foregoing the guards. You really have betrayed my trust this way. However, if you come out of your own accord now, I’ll be a bit milder with my punishment towards you.”

Breathing with a hand over your mouth was more difficult than expected. Sweat made your palms slick and caused the oversized shirt to stick in the most uncomfortable places. Your lungs burned as you tried to consciously control your breathing.

There was a scoff on the other side of the door.

“The first thing you do upon running away is drink hot chocolate. And here I thought Hari was being too lenient with you. Maybe he has been; I should stop turning a blind eye to him sneaking you treats.”

He tapped his fingers against a shelf as he rounded the room. Again, there was some tutting. Doubtlessly he had noticed the layer of dust covering all the furniture.

“You know, your punishment is inevitable so there is no use hiding. A burned child shies the fire, after all, so it must be. We all know that a good talking to doesn’t really drive the point home, in your case. You need to be taught a lesson with emotional impact. Thankfully for you, it will be quick one this time.”

Footsteps from the hallway approached you, the steps speaking of a brisk and firm pace. Your heart soared and hope blossomed. You prayed that it was Teru and he was coming to rescue you. If anybody stood a chance against one Kai Chisaki, then it surely was a seasoned hero. Even if Canine Instinct couldn’t best Overhaul in a fight, then he could wreak enough havoc to enable the two of you to flee. If you were lucky, then more heroes would come to your aid and then Overhaul could be finally defeated once and for all. Maybe, you could then…

“Ah, Hari. Took you long enough”, Chisaki remarked, and with that, all your dreams were shattered.

“Not on purpose, mind you. This one was tougher than your usual run-of-the-mill hero. He had a really nasty right hook”, Kuruno remarked. There was a nasal quality to his voice, as if his nose had been broken. A groan was followed by a thump, as if a body was being set down.

You balled your hand into a fist and bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from wailing. Shivers wracked your body and sharp pain sprouted from where your teeth dug into your flesh. Hope dies last, and it never is a pretty or peaceful death.

“A hero, how very quaint. Say, should we torture him?”, Overhaul mused.

You screwed your eyes shut, as if you could will what was playing out to become unreality. This was all your fault in a way, and that made this all the worse. If only you could convince yourself to move, then maybe you could save him. However, you were too paralysed with fear, or you were too selfish to do so.

"Do we really have the time for that? As much as I would like to see the one that took our darling (name) away from us,

I would prefer to have them in my arms already", Chrono remarked.

A huff and then the rustle of fabric. It was very clear to you by now that Chisaki was annoyed and furious and that letting his anger out on the hero would very much a viable option for him at the moment. From everything that Chisaki had shown you about himself, he was the type to bottle his rage behind formality and ambition and transmutate it into a drive to fulfill his goal. Until it would all become too much and he would explode. Then blood would paint the walls and people would die or be mutilated.

"Look in the storage closet behind the door."

The words barely registered when the door was already ripped open and a hand shot forwards to wrap itself around your wrist. You kicked and yelled and attempted to

bite with, just in the face of your aggression the man simply fisted your hair with his other hand. The pain caused you to scream and he used the moment to force you to tilt your head back. You were then dragged out of your hiding place by the hand on your wrist; the one on the back of your head forced you to comply and not move a centimetre out of line.

You were brought to the middle of the living room next to the couch. Teru was sprawled next to the coffee table, the miniscule movements that he was making sluggish.

The wonderful effects of Chronostasis. The man behind you shifted to release your wrist and then curled his arm around your waist. Kai regarded you with sardonic amusement. The skin around his eyes crinkled to crows feet.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?", he inquired mockingly.

Your thoughts were now racing a thousand miles a minute and that was when something extraordinarily stupid came to mind. You didn't waste any time musing if it was a good move or not, because there was no moment like the present. Briefly, you allowed yourself to sag forward in mock defeat. You didn't plan on speaking - what was there to say that you hadn't said in the beginning? Anything that came to mind was corny or pathetic and you didn't want to say anything that would diminish yourself in their eyes any further. Besides, your throat ached from the stress your body had to go through in these short minutes.

However, there was one thing you wanted to give off your chest:

"Go to hell, both of you."

With that, you threw yourself backwards and upwards. There was the satisfying crack as your head met his nose, and crushed the already damaged cartilage. Kurono swore and from the corner of your eyes you noticed Kai jerk forwards. For a precious few moments, the vice grip on you loosened and you attempted to rip yourself out of his arms.

You failed. While you managed to tear free, he caught you almost immediately. One hand grabbed your hair again, and reeled you back with you letting out small yelps of agony.

When you were next to him he took his mask off and set it on the armrest next to him. Blood was running down his face, past his lips and was already staining the collar of his off-white coat.

"I say that our little poppet should learn the price of running away, yes?", Hari suggested, rubbing his nose were you had slammed your head into it. The white glove came away smeared with blood. The already swollen flesh around his nose had taken on a blue-purple tinge. He gave you nasty smile, something very unusual for him given how passive and laid-back he tended to be. Injuring him had evidently crossed a line.

"Of course. Don't you want me to see to your nose first, however. It looks pretty bad", Chisaki asked.

His eyes filtered over the injury before landing on you. A vein popped in his forehead and the beginnings of hives were discolouring his skin. That matched with the glare he gave you made you flinch. Not only had you forced him to enter a hero's house, you had also injured his friend and your other lover. With Kurono's tendency to dote on you, he had probably tasked him with taking care of you. The assumption had most likely been that you wouldn't dare harming Hari.

Whenever Kai had been frustrated or absolutely strict, Hari had usually stepped in to act as a buffer. You owed one Hari Kurono much of your sanity. Because of that, you had gone to great pains to remain in his good graces. And suddenly, you had thrown all of that into the fire.

"It is worse than it looks. Let us finish up here and then head back to the compound. We can do all the medical stuff there", was the response. There was some shuffling as he put his mask back on again. Then, he stepped behind you again and proceeded to restrain you in a full Nelson.

Kai shrugged, an awkward move with that trademark bomber jacket that he was still wearing. He peeled the gloves on his left hand off and bent down.

Kurono lowered his head so that his mouth was level with your ear.

"Behave now. It could be worse; I could tell Kai about the things you told me about your time in highschool", he threatened. With hopeless eyes and a hand on your jaw, you were forced to witness an execution.

Chisaki only touched Teru with the very tip of his finger, yet that was enough to activate Overhaul. The supine body exploded outwards in a whirl of blood and guts and bones. Your abductor stood in the middle, a wicked sorcerer of his own design, and stared thoughtfully at the churning mass of gore.

Kurono tightened his grip around you as you started to squirm more relentlessly. It was far too late Teru, yet that didn't dampen the desperation and sadness that screamed at you to come to his aid.

“Calm down, you will only injure yourself”, the man cautioned you. “Don't waste your tears and your heart on that filth when you have Kai and me.”

Finally, Kai came to a conclusion. The maelstrom of human tissue imploded, and next to Overhaul there was the dead body of Canine Instinct. His eyes were open, and skin already deathly pale. It looked like he had been dead for some time now. While you weren't an expert, it appeared as if rigor mortis was already in its final stages.

"Doesn't look like much. I though you wanted to burn the house down to remove any and all evidence?", Chrono inquired.

Overhaul shook his head at that. The corpse was given a firm kick and then the Yakuza head made his way over to the two of you. He fished a lone glove out of his jacket pocket and with sure gestures put it on. His yellow eyes remained on you the whole time, as if the answer was actually meant for you:

"I've changed my mind. Let us give the heroes a mystery to throw them off our trail. I've altered our dear friend here so that all medical examinations will find him to have been dead for a long time already. What I granted was a peaceful death, much more than a hopeless case like him would have deserved."

He stopped right in front of you, the tip of his mask nearly scratched your cheek. What a sight you must have been - eyes glassy and wide blown, your mouth half open as you panted and the veins of your neck prominent. You opened your mouth and not a sound came out.

"It is your fault, you know", he pointed out. One gloved hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ghosted over your cheek bone. "You forced my hand. If you hadn't run away, then nobody would have had to die because of you. Count yourself lucky that there aren't more corpses."

With that, he marched past the two of you in the direction of the front door. Chronostasis pushed you into moving and you shuffled along, dazed by what had happened.

On the way past the couch, he snatched the blanket and pressed it to your chest. Wordlessly, you accepted it and undid the bundle with shaking hands. The adrenaline rush was subsiding, and you felt like a passenger in your own body.

When you took too long to wrap yourself up, Kurono ripped the blanket from your hands and with deft movements tucked the fabric underneath your arms and rolled you up in it. Strong hands lifted you up, and once he was carrying you bridal style he followed his best friend. You found Overhaul by the closed door, waiting for you. As soon as you were by him, he opened it.

It was snowing outside now. Thick white flakes drifted from the heavens to settle in a seamless blanket on the ground. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

There was nobody in sight, and the snow dampened all sounds. Grief weighed heavy in your heart, and fear stayed your tongue. Kurouno’s bodily warmth was a bittersweet comfort, and you leaned into you despite what he had done earlier. There would no doubt be bruises tomorrow. Next to you, Overhaul sighed once more, as if this was all such a tedious chore.

“So much for just light snowfall. Our kitty will be too cold to bathe immediately when we get home”, Kai lamented. Your heart clenched at the pet name he used for you.

Hari shifted you in his gasp and added to the conversation:

“We can still get rid of the clothing and pump their stomach until they are warm enough. Perhaps we should also replenish their electrolytes and scrub their skin before washing. Leaving them alone when they are so emotionally fragile like this would only be detrimental. This sweetheart here needs to be comforted, and brought back on the right path with the carrot and the stick.”

“You are right at that. Let us go now and fast. I don’t want to waste anymore time at this disgusting place.”

Your story was a fairy tale in ways, yet it was one of the older, gruesome ones, where a happy ending was anything but guaranteed.

#yandere overhaul #yandere kai chisaki #yandere chrono #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader

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joe-spookyy · 11 months ago

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nothing makes me more evil than seeing someone misinterpret daniel “oz” osbourne of buffy the vampire slayer fame. this is deeply unfortunate because it seems to be all everyone knows how to do. the amount of people i’ve seen dogging on him for things he did not even have control over is crazy. if you have issues with him read on. he’s the best character and i will die on that hill, so fight me on this one. i dare you. season 4 spoilers under the cut sorry to my friends. also him and tara could have been best friends but this isn’t really about her. just had to say it.

FIRST of all. he did not cheat on willow. veruca took advantage of him. i don’t even get how there’s grey area there - it’s clear that in both situations the wolf has control over oz, but not over veruca. so not only was HE not choosing to have sex with her or even aware that he was doing it, but SHE was aware and was taking advantage of him. this is not in ANY way his fault??? now yeah. he coulda been a little more defensive about himself when he was talking to willow and buffy but it’s oz. he’s already worried about hurting people when he’s a werewolf. if everyone’s telling him he’s bad and wrong for this he’s gonna believe it even if it isn’t true. and he didn’t have to scram and go full no contact after that. but again. he was SCARED! he didn’t wanna hurt willow any more than he already had. he made a snap decision based on what he felt he HAD to do. and if you’re one of the people who says just because he brought veruca into the cage that means he Wanted her to do that to him. i am going to get you. that’s victim blaming. he just wanted to make sure she didn’t KILL anyone. it makes sense that he would pick risking her taking advantage of him again over letting people die. did he handle it perfectly? no. that does not mean he wanted her to do all that. he loves willow and says that so many times explicitly. literally left to make sure he was good enough for her. he did not want veruca. jesus.

and SECOND. even worse is the people who are saying he comes across as homophobic for having a negative reaction to finding out about willow and tara. like. hello. did we watch the same scene. not once does he say anything negative about the fact that they’re both girls. he’s clearly just upset that willow didn’t tell him she was involved with anyone else, and with his whole new controlling the wolf thing, there’s gonna be a lot of pent up emotion and probably anger. so when he got extra upset when tara wouldn’t tell him anything more and eventually ended up wolfing out, it’s clear that it’s because he’s upset that he trusted willow but she didn’t give him all the information about where she was at and whether or not he had a chance with her again. which makes sense from her perspective of course, and tara’s reaction was valid too, but we can’t act like he suddenly hates gay people just cause he got mad that someone he cares about wasn’t totally honest with him. and he warns tara so he doesn’t end up hurting her by accident. and at the end of the episode all he wants to know is whether willow is happy. and she is. and so he’s happy for her and accepts it. i don’t even know how people are getting any other perception of the situation. god. sorry.

big idea is if you think oz is in the wrong for either of these i am going to hunt you down and beat you up evil style and maybe sit you down and have a talk about media literacy.

#oz buffy #oz btvs #daniel oz osbourne #willow rosenberg #willow btvs #willow buffy #willoz #werewolf #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy season 4 #tara btvs #tara buffy #tara maclay #character analysis #matty’s media essays

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smytherines · 2 months ago

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I think I never got to ask you more about spyverance au, so any headcanons you want to share? 👀👀👀

Ooohhhhh yes spyverance headcanons!!

This isn't super spoiler heavy I guess, but if anyone has an interest in watching Severance you should definitely do that first, because otherwise most of this probably won't make sense:

So. Spyverance.

I mean God. The mental image of Curt crying in his car every morning before going into his new severed job at Chimera has not left my mind since I watched the show

I know I said something about their severed selves being spies, but that poses some narrative issues I haven't figured out yet, so this is all just assuming that it's Lumon but it's called Chimera. The same setup as the show.

outie!Curt definitely keeps a flask in his little personal effects drawer. And assuming it's an 8 hour day, he drinks as much as he can before he gets into the building, and after maybe an hour or two of work innie!Curt would start to feel sick. Hungover at the very least (which he has no frame of reference for) because the alcohol has worn off, gradually feeling the physical symptoms of withdrawal more and more by the end of the day. By the time he gets in the elevator to go home he is shaking and sweating, and as soon as outie!Curt gets off the elevator he reaches for his flask

We don't know what exactly happens on the testing floor yet, but I think some sort of "factory reset" for stubborn innies is a strong guess

I said this before, but it bears repeating that even though outie!Curt is desperate to erase his memories and not have to experience half his days, innie!Curt is still Curt. He's stubborn, he's impulsive, he hates being caged up in the same boring room doing the same boring job. He would definitely cause problems and end up getting sent to the break room, possibly even the testing floor, until he cooperates

So Curt goes through about a year of that, while Owen is still strictly outside recovering from his injuries, building up relationships in Chimera, building power. Maybe Owen wants to be able to forget some of the time, or maybe Chimera needs one of their own on the severed floor for whatever reason, or a little bit of both, but eventually he wakes up on the table, and Curt is giving him that little entrance quiz

I think Owen would respond the same way Helly did. Trying to attack his way out, and when that fails I could very much see him waging war on his outie self the same way Helly does.

The same way that innie!Curt has always been drunk, hungover, or in withdrawal, and just believes that is everybody's baseline, innie!Owen has always been in pain. I keep imagining him with a prosthetic leg from the fall. His shoulder and chest are constantly pinching and sore and itchy. At some point he lifts up his pant leg for whatever reason and realizes that he is missing a leg. He panics, like fully has a ptsd crisis, but of course he has no idea how that happened or what it means that everyone else appears to have two legs and Owen only has one.

I imagine a scenario where Curt accidentally runs into Owen and spills coffee on him or something. They go into the bathroom attempting to clean him up, and there's a moment when they get too close and all that sexual tension stirs up. But when Owen takes his shirt off to scrub at the stain they both see the massive burn all over his shoulder and chest, which kinda kills the mood.

And Curt, after all his time in the break room and on the testing floor, uses this to say something like "clearly something happened to your outie, so maybe it's better for you if you don't remember it."

And it sorta works, in that Owen stops trying to escape for a little while. Stops trying to injure or threaten his outie self. But beyond the physical issues he has from the fall, there's also emotional and mental issues that he has no context for. He might not be able to remember the incident, but his body and his mind still do. So I imagine outie!Owen starts panicking every time he gets in the elevator to go down to the severed floor, because he remembers being trapped and injured and helpless in a Russian prison cell before Chimera came along and offered him a way out. And by the time innie!Owen gets off the elevator he is shaking, but has no idea why. That due to the head injury he has seemingly random vertigo attacks. Sometimes he feels fine, but tiny things will trigger intense paranoia or explosive anger or panic, like he's sharing his mind with some strange feral animal. And it terrifies him.

I could very much see outie!Owen giving the "I am a person. You are not." speech. Thinking of his innie as a thing, a tool to be used to further his plans. And I think, in a way, he would also resent his innie for being able to forget the incident that outie!Owen cannot stop fixating on. He would resent his innie for getting to move on, to work without all those mental burdens when he cannot.

God I have so many thoughts on both of them and how they would manage all of this, but I want to get to the overtime contingency so I'm gonna move on

I still love the idea of Tatiana as our Petey. So let's say she joins up with Chimera and takes a severed job on the condition that her family will finally be safe. Maybe she's there for a year or so before Curt shows up. She and Curt build a close friendship on the severed floor, and then Tatiana ends up reintegrating and leaving (which is when Owen shows up)

I don't want Tatiana to die, so let's say she has a less disastrous reintegration than Petey does, but I do still love the idea of her occasionally becoming mentally unstuck in time. Not just not being able to tell severed vs unsevered time, but maybe also sometimes reliving parts of her extremely traumatic childhood.

Tatiana reaches out to outie!Curt, she wants to save her friend, but she struggles significantly with the reintegration process so it's easy for Curt to initially dismiss her as crazy. And even though Tatiana is saying things he absolutely does not want to hear, because to him severance is how he has survived Owen's death, he's still curious. He starts gradually asking questions.

Tatiana is hiding out in Curt's basement, because Chimera is hunting her down, and eventually Curt starts to open up to her about why he took a severed job. Explains his relationship with Owen and their work and his own feelings of guilt and shame. They start to become friends again on the outside.

Somehow the innies are able to trigger the overtime contingency (I still have to figure out who else is in the Chimera MDR department), and innie!Curt and innie!Owen are able to experience the outside world.

Owen couldn't be the public face of severance the way Helena is, because then Curt would know he's alive, so instead innie!Owen wakes up in an apartment. It's well-decorated and luxurious (Chimera took care of that) but he is frantically scrambling to find any clues about his outie, and there is nothing personal. No family photos, no keepsakes, no sign of any personal life at all. Just a lot of weapons, and a lot of paperwork that he can't parse (although curiously it all has the Chimera logo on it).

There's a knock at the door, and some Chimera underling has been sent to give him a reminder of some Chimera thing, a meeting or gala or whatever, happening soon. And the underling is trying to score points by praising whatever outie!Owen has been up to while working with Chimera.

innie!Owen is still kinda dazed, he's skimming through his outie's closet still trying to figure out who this guy is. The underling says something that makes it clear that Owen isn't just some guy who took a severed job-- he's part of Chimera. He has power over the program. He didn't build the system that has been slowly eating away at innie!Owen, but he maintains it. Finds new cruelties for it. And the moment he has that realization, he sticks his hands into the pocket of one of his jackets, and pulls out a picture of him with his arm around Curt (in my head it's that Szol Christmas postcard tbh). And that's the last thing he sees before he gets cut off.

innie!Curt wakes up in his house. I like to imagine that instead of Ricken's terrible book, Curt finds a spy novel someone left behind. He hides it and reads it over and over again, not knowing why he's so fascinated with it. So innie!Curt finds a few pictures of he and his mother, some personal effects he has no context for, but the spy novel taught him that sometimes people hide things in interesting places, so he starts knocking on baseboards and wiggling loose bricks, trying to see if he has any secrets stashed away.

Eventually he finds a stash of letters, pictures of him and Owen, all the ephemera of a relationship. And not really thinking about why those would be hidden, he thinks that he and Owen must know each other out here, that they have a relationship on the outside. So he starts calling for Owen through the house, except obviously Owen is not there. But Tatiana is, still hiding out in Curt's basement to avoid detection from Chimera.

Tatiana comes upstairs to figure out what all the fuss is about, and innie!Curt sees his beloved friend-- someone he never thought he'd see again-- and crushes her in a hug. He explains that he's the innie right now, and Tatiana tries to figure out what they should do with that information, how they can use it. But as she's sort of thinking out loud about it, Curt asks "where's Owen? He needs to be here for this."

Tatiana looks confused at him, and says, "he's dead, Curt. He's been dead for over a year now."

And at first she thinks that Curt just doesn't want to accept it, but then his eyes go wide and he just quietly says "Owen is alive down there." And then he gets cut off too.

I could genuinely talk about this forever because there are so many interesting thoughts, like:

-- if this is a technologically advanced 1950s, how different would innie curtwen be with each other if they have no concept of homophobia?? No idea that the attraction they feel is not socially acceptable. Sure, innies aren't supposed to fraternize, but that's different than growing up in a culture where your sexuality is openly regarded as a crime and a perversion. I lean towards a technologically advanced 1950s because I like the idea of their pre-canon relationship being the same, and all this taking place in Severance's ambiguous near-future where a man can be married to a man would fundamentally change their pre-canon relationship

-- Cynthia Houston in the Harmony Cobel role? Being cold and distant and shitty and work-obsessed, yet having an odd attachment to Curt for whatever reason

-- I like the idea of Barb and Tatiana having a sorta Burt and Irving dynamic, maybe with Barb working in a different severed department. But I also think Barb would be fascinating in a Mr. Milchick role too. Being sickly saccharine, with that constant unnerving threat of violence. Using the break room and testing floor as her own personal science experiments (oh Barb Larvernor, you have such potential as a fucked up little evil scientist). If it's not Barb, the Milchick role is played by Brian Rosenthal in my head

Okay okay, this is like 80 paragraphs so I'm gonna stop now. But yeah. Thinking about spyverance a lot lately

#spyverance #spies are forever #severance

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phantombre · 4 months ago

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3, 5, 11, 14 for the ask game? :D

ohboy,ohboy,ohboy,ohboy...

Ask Game Here: (Thank you, @pink-november, btw)

Warning: mild (but still existing) Pristine Cut spoilers

3.) Favorite Vessel?

The Razor. She's actually the first vessel I got when I first played the game. (Specifically, M.A.D. I think I would have gotten the Spectre if I hadn't fallen for the "this was too easy" trick.) Regardless, I'm glad I got her first. She's easily the funniest Princess. Her desperate attempts to quell suspicions in chapter 2 is fucking hilarious, especially the "I would like to go outside and see a bird" bit when Hero almost buys into it. Speaking of, it not only introduced Cheated, who in my opinion is one of the most relatable voices, it introduced EVERY voice, so I got a small taste of all of them.

Runner-ups would be Moment of Clarity, Wraith, Thorn, and the newly added Cage.

5.) Favorite Voice?

Skeptic. The beloved...

He definitely stands out from the other voices, by which I mean, he doesn't quite fit with the genre of the story. It's as if you took a 1940's film noir detective and put him in a dark fantasy setting without telling him that he's in a dark fantasy setting. Which (I think) is why he keeps trying to rationally explain his surroundings despite his surroundings clearly not being rational.

He's also kind of a dork. That segment when he "winks" honestly caught me off guard when I first heard it. Had me giggling throughout the rest of the chapter.

Runner-ups include Paranoid, Cheated, Cold, and Broken (especially after the Pristine Cut).

11.) Non-canon Vessel/ Voice interactions?

To be honest, I don't have any specific examples that come to mind. Maybe due to the fact that I'm not fully finished with my Pristine Cut playthrough and don't want to accidentally say something stupid.

That being said, from what I have completed, Smitten seems to be a very underutilized voice. (Yes, I have played the Happily Ever After chapter, so I do know about that... concept.) I mean I understand that his personality is applicable in very specific circumstances (i.e. the Thorn, the Damsel, the Razor). Like, I wouldn't put him with vessels like the Den or the Wraith or such. The Wild would be an interesting one, though. So would the Apotheosis. Hell, put him with the Eye of the Needle so that he and Stubborn can both gawk at the hot Princess. That'd be funny, I think.

14.) Favorite Ships?

oh boy...

To be honest, I'm not one for the shipping scene. At least not sexually. Maybe romantically? Ehh?? If anything, it would be platonic.

But...

The ones I see most are ContraHero, HuntCheat, and (from you, specifically, heh) ParaCold. While all the voices have interesting dynamics with each other, these specific pairings make sense to me personally more than anything else.

Case in point:

Ooh, what's that?! A voice sneak peek?!? eaoooaaag!!!

Personal head canons include:

- Contrarian and Hero constantly flip-flop between the best of friends and an old married couple who bicker a lot (also bushy hair supremacy!!!).

- Hunted is one of the only people who can make Cheated smile. Like a genuine smile, not a smirk. Mostly because he finds Hunted's animalistic behavior amusing.

- On the other side, Hunted is very particular about where he sleeps, only picking locations where he feels the most safe. And his favorite spot is with Cheated's company.

- Cold's general apathy towards everything, specifically staying alive, is greatly concerning to Paranoid, so he resolves to "make him feel". (I know, similar to what Smitten decreed. However, unlike Smitten, who used it as a threat, Paranoid is genuinely invested in what he sees as helping Cold.) Likewise, Cold is probably one of the best voices to easily quell his panic attacks (granted he could also be the cause of them, but still...).

#slay the princess #ask box game #ramble #because i definitely rambled #this is fun!!#i've always liked these games #and now i'm doing one!!#yey!#my art #:)

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year ago

Text

Transcript of The Trade, the Marella KOTLC short story (Including the author introduction)

Note: OG pictures taken by Kenna!, provided by @fintan-pyren. Some words are obscured and the transcript may contain errors. Neverless, I hope this is useful to anyone who may need/want it :)

Hello, wonderful Keeper readers! Some of you might already know that I love to sneak a little something extra into the paperback versions of my books whenever I can (since I don't think hardcover readers should get to be the only ones who sometimes find fun bonuses). For those who didn't know that: surprise! :)

I knew I wanted to include a story from Marella's POV this time. Not only is she on the cover (looking fierce and fabulous!) and a fan-favorite character, but she also had some key scenes in Stellarlune that we only got to "hear" about. The Keeper books are limited to Sophie's POV, so I can only include moments where Sophie is present--and since Sophie didn't go with Marella to her meetings with Fintan, we only learn what Marella tells Sophie later. But what if there was something Marella didn't share?

Over the next few pages, you can watch one of Marella's conversations with Fintan play out in real time and hear all Marella's thoughts and reactions to what's happening. I've called this story "The Trade"--and I've worked in lots of fun little extra details (some of which might even turn out to be important later...*wink*).

For those wondering, this story is based a [sic] scene in chapter 31 of Stellarlune--and if you haven't read Stellarlune yet: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! Reading this first will probably be confusing and will also give away a few tidbits too early. You'll be much happier if you start by reading Stellarlune and then come back here for all the Marella fun once you're done!

Happy reading! [shannon's signature]

"Ugh, I hate this place," Marella muttered, shaking the freshly fallen snowflakes out of her gilded blond hair much harder than necessary and yanking her thick velvet cape tighter around her narrow shoulders.

She said the same thing every time she had to trudge through the knee-high snowdrifts and found herself staring at the icicle-crusted entrance to the now familiar cave.

Didn't matter how many times she'd gone there--or how important her visits were. She was never not going to dread making the long, slippery trek down to Fintan's frozen cell.

The cave looked like some sort of open-mouthed snow beast waiting to devour everything in its path--which was probably intentional, since the prison was designed to be as miserable as possible.

Especially for someone like her.

The goblin guards even gave her pitying stares as they moved aside to reveal the endless icy path that wound down and down--and down a whole lot more--to a place where the tiniest glimmer of heat had long since been swallowed up by the suffocating cold.

No amount of clothing could keep Marella warm in the heart of the prison She'd actually tried wearing so many layers that she'd looked like an overstuffed gulon--and she still couldn't stop shivering. And the whole "body temperature regulation" thing wasn't exactly possible when she had to use so much concentration to make sense of Fintan's ranting.

it wasn't fair.

Everyone else got to train their special abilities in fancy rooms at Foxfire, with Mentors who weren't creepy, unstable murderers.

But they weren't Pyrokinetics.

Marella was lucky the Council was letting her use her ability at all.

They could just as easily label her Talentless, kick her out of their snobby academy, and ban her from ever sparking another flame.

Or they could decide she was too dangerous and lock her away.

in fact, Marella wouldn't have been surprised at all if the Council was already building an icy cage just for her--but the thought still made her shiver and wish she could've manifested as...

Nope.

She stopped herself from finishing that sentence.

If life had taught her anything, it was that there's no point wanting things that were never going to happen.

Instead, she focused on the thin beams of sunlight streaking through a gap in the gloomy gray clouds. The light was far from warm, but if she really concentrated, she could feel a hint of lingering heat tangled among the brightness.

She called the warmth closer and soaked it in--let it pool under her skin, pounding with her pulse, swelling with every heartbeat. Growing hotter and hotter and hotter until...

Snap!

A flick of her fingers sent a small tangle of flames sparking to life above her left palm.

"Feel better?" Linh asked as Marella let out a long, slow sigh.

Marella nodded--though she definitely could've done without the whispered that were now hissing around her head.

The flames had a soft, crackly voice. And they always made the same plea.

Feed me.

Fire craved fuel--constantly wanting more, more, more--and it would've been so easy for Marella to let the fire swell bigger and bigger and bigger.

But that was the kind of thing that would lead to a lifetime of shivering in an underground ice cube, so she forced her gaze to shift to Linh, who stood in a small, snowless circle surrounded by a halo of hovering snowflakes---none daring to touch her long silver-tipped hair or shimmery purple cape.

Marella knew how hard Linh had fought to achieve that level of control, and how tentative Linh's hold over her ability still was. But the fact Linh could stand in a sea of frozen water and do nothing except keep the falling snow from settling on her flushed pink cheeks was very...

Annoying.

Then again, everyone annoyed Marella a little.

Her dad used to call her "fiery" long before he realized how accurate that description truly was.

But it wasn't Marella's fault!

People tended to be annoying.

Especially a Hydrokinetic who was currently looking all peaceful and pretty and perfect while making snowflakes flutter and spin in intricate patterns.

That didn't mean Marella wasn't also grateful that Linh was willing to tag along to her Pyrokinetic lessons. it was nice to see a friendly face after hours of Fintan's rambling. Plus, it seemed like a good idea to have someone with water powers around while she practiced setting things on fire.

They were even finding some pretty cool ways to work together. Fire and water might be opposites--but that didn't mean they couldn't be combined. Marella had actually figured out a way to ignite Linh's rain, and she couldn't wait to use that little trick on the Neverseen--assuming those black-cloaked losers ever showed up again.

For a fearsome, unstoppable rebellion, they sure spend a lot of time hiding.

"Are you going to start by asking him about the cache or do the lesson first?" Linh asked, reminding Marella why they were there.

Marella shrugged. "Depends on Fintan's mood."

Sometimes he was already babbling about some fancy new fire trick when she arrived, as if he'd started the lesson without bothering to wait for her. Other times she couldn't get anywhere with him until she'd let him go on and on and on about how foolish the Council was, or how badly he'd been wronged, or how much he missed the feel of a flickering flame--and she didn't necessarily blame him for the last one.

Part of her wanted to hold on to her fireball forever.

Make it her smoky little pet.

Instead, she curled her fingers into a fist and snuffed it out--but she didn't let all the heat dissipate. She called a single tingling glint deeper, letting it sear through her veins and settle into her heart.

She knew it was a risky move, even with all the defenses she wrapped around it. But she couldn't bear the cold emptiness of Fintan's prison without a least a tiny fleck of warmth tucked away.

A secret spark whispering, I'm here. You're not alone.

"Okay," she said, weaving a few strands of her hair together to clam her twitchy fingers. She'd picked up the nervous habit years ago--after her mom's accident--and the tiny braids were kind of her trademark now. "i guess I should stop stalling and head down to deal with Sir Creepysparks, huh?"

Linh smiled. "Probably. Unless you want to rehearse what you're going to say."

"Nah. I'm just going to offer him an ugly flower--that doesn't exactly need a big speech. Oh, but that reminds me..."

She reached into her cape pocket and pulled out the spiky dark blue Noxflare--which looked more like a dying weed than a super-rare flower--and held it up to the guards. "Mr. Forkle already checked this before I brought it here, to make sure it's safe for me to offer to Fintan. but I figured you'd want to check it too."

"We do," they agreed in unison as one of the biggest, deadliest-looking guards took the Noxflare from Marella and brought it over to the other goblins.

A lot of mumbling about potential kindling and fire hazards followed.

Eventually, the guards decided to quick-freeze the Noxflare into a block of ice in case there was any heat stored inside.

"Whoa," Marella said when the scary guard returned with the flower-filled ice cube--which had turned out as big as her head. "How heavy is that thing?"

The guard studied Marella's skinny arms. "I can carry it for you if you'd like."

"That's probably be smart." Marella was pretty sure she'd drop it, or her fingers would freeze off during the long walk--and using telekinesis would drain her mental energy. "But can you stay out of sight? I was planning to tell Fintan he can only see his weird flower thing if he gives me access to his memories, and that's kinda ruined if there's a giant goblin holding it right next to me.

Not that it made the plan any less pointless.

Fintan was obviously going to turn her down.

He's already made it super clear that the only trade he was interested in was for his freedom--which was never going to happen.

Marella doubted a dying flower frozen in ice was suddenly going to make him be like, You know what? Who needs out of this horrible prison when I can have that!

But she was out of other ideas.

And Sophie wanted her to try the Noxflare thing, so...

Whatever.

Marella didn't care about Sophie's current power trip the way Stina did.

As long as she didn't have to be the one coming up with all the plans--or almost dying all the time--Marella was fine following orders. Especially if she got to say I told you so when they turned out to be a huge waste of time.

"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" Linh asked as Marella pulled thick gloves onto her hands. "Fintan likes me."

Marella wasn't sure if "like" was the right word, since Fintan didn't seem to like anybody. But he'd definitely been impressed with Linh.

He'd demanded to speak with "the Hydrokinetic" after Marella mentioned she practiced her pyrokinesis with Linh, so Marella had convinced the goblin guards to let Linh down into the prison. And when Fintan asked for a demonstration of Linh's ability to ensure she wouldn't "hinder his training," Linh had stirred up all the ice shards on his floor and made them rain around him like he was trapped inside a snow globe--which actually made him applaud.

Apparently, most Hydrokinetics struggled to manipulate water in its solid form, and were limited to liquid water or water vapor.

But not Linh.

Of course.

Marella was pretty sure that Linh was more powerful than any of her other friends.

"Well, if you need me, you know where to find me," Linh said as Marella forced her feet to carry her into the cave. "I'll just be here, making another snow menagerie." She flicker her wrist and wove the hovering snowflakes into a soaring alenon.

"Ugh, at least make some ugly creatures this time," Marella called over her shoulder. "I want to see a row of snow ghouls when I get back here. Or a giant Princess Purryfins!"

Linh gasped. "Princess Purryfins is not ugly! I'm going to tell her you said that!"

Marella laughed. "I'm sure you will."

She would've teased Linh more about her ridiculous obsession with her pet murcat, but the frigid air from the prison hit Marella hard, and she had to lock her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

As least she didn't have to make the journey by herself this time.

Marella could hear the scary goblin guard keeping pace several steps behind her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim blue light cast by a series of glowing spheres dangling from the ceiling. The downward slope grew steeper with each winding curve, and Marella was always tempted to try sliding down the icy floor instead of walking--but she'd probably end up crashing into one of the weird ice thrones outside Fintan's cell. And she knew better than anyone that injuries couldn't always be healed.

Plus, the trudge gave her a chance to add extra defenses to the heat she'd tucked away in her chest.

She often wondered if Fintan had hidden a few sparks of his own when he was arrested. After all, he had to know the Council would put him on ice for the rest of eternity. Wouldn't he try to preserve what little heat he could?

But Marella had stretched out her senses a zillion different ways and never felt the slightest tingle of warmth when she was around him. So either there was nothing to find or Fintan was that good.

She had a horrible feeling it was the latter, and he was waiting for just the right moment to reveal his grand plan--but that wasn't the kind of thing she should be thinking about before having to face him.

Still, she spent the next few turn trying to figure out what she'd do if she were right.

Her feet turned numb while she plotted, and her bones were officially aching by the time the path widened-- the only warning that they were getting close to Fintan's cell.

A few curves later, his cage came into view: a stark, icy bubble in the center of a circular cavern.

The round wall was reflective on the inside, so even though Marella could see Fintan pacing along the edge of his frozen barricade, he wouldn't be able to see her until she triggered the sensor by sitting in one of the freezing thrones positioned at the only point Fintan could peer through.

He looked extra tired that day--his sky blue eyes sunken by more shadows than usual, and he kept muttering under his breath about incompetence as he tucked his messy blond hair behind his pointy ears with a bit more force than necessary.

Marella glanced back at the scary guard, making sure he'd ducked into the shadows near the back of the cell before she made her big appearance. Then she took a deep breath and pressed her hand against her heart, reaching for her secret spark of warmth one last time before plopping into the closest ice throne.

"Awwwww, looks like you missed me," she said, tossing back her hair and flashing her brightest smile.

She liked to start her visits by showing Fintan she wasn't afraid of him--even if she totally was.

But Fintan didn't glance her way.

"I'm not in the mood for games," he warned as he continued his slow march around his cell.

"Neither am I" Marella assured him, deciding that was her cue to start with the cache. She sat up taller, trying to look extra confident as she added, "But I do have an awesome trade to offer you!"

Fintan sighed. "If this is about my cache, I already told you what I'm willing to accept. Unless you're here to grant me a day of freedom--"

"I'm definitely not. But! I found something you should like even better." She paused, hoping the extra bit of anticipation would somehow make her offer should more exiting when she told him. "Noxflares!"

Fintan scrunched his slender nose. "What are Noxflares, and why would I care about them?"

Marella tilted her head, trying to tell if he was faking.

She hadn't expected him to jump around or applaud or anything--but she had expected him to at least know what Noxflares were.

Then again, his mind had been shattered and pieced back together so many times, his memories had to be in shambles--and Ancient minds tended to be a total mess anyway, since they were crammed with thousands of years of information and the past and present blurred together.

"Would it help if I told you I stopped by your old estate on my way here?" she asked, "Your garden could use some gnomish help, by the way. All the plants have turned into a giant dying tangle. But I dug around and managed to find this scraggly vine with dark pointy flowers--and I hear that plant is special to you, so I picked a few and--"

"You picked my Noxflares?" Fintan snapped, rushing to the wall of his cell and pressing his palms against the ice. "You must let me see them!"

Marella's lips curled into a huge smirk. "I thought you didn't know what they were."

Fintan gritted his teeth so hard, it sounded like cracking ice.

"Hey, I'm not saying I won't share. Buuuuuuuuuuut it'll cost you--and I'm pretty sure you can already guess what I want." She paused for another beat before she added, "Just so we're clear: I'll show you one of your Noxflares if you open your cache and show me what's inside."

Fintan's jaw tightened even more and his hands curled into fists.

But he didn't say no.

He didn't say anything--which was definitely new.

Marella had already offered him a long list of trade suggestions that she, Linh, Maruca, and Stina had all come up with--some really cool ones! And Fintan had shot down each one down before she could even finish the offer.

She couldn't believe he looked so tempted by an ugly flower.

but as the silence dragged on, Marella started to wonder if she'd misread the situation.

maybe she'd pushed him too hard--taunted him too much--and now Fintan was letting her sit there in the cold, knowing the icy throne was turning her butt and legs numb.

She was trying to decide if she could make standing up look like a power move when Fintan told her, "Fine. You have a deal--but since you're only offering one Noxflare, I'll only show you one memory."

Marella barely stopped herself from blurting out, SERIOUSLY?

"Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she said instead, wanting to kick herself for not bringing more Noxflares with her. The whole thing had just seemed so silly--and the first few she'd picked had crumbled to dust. But the vine had lots more flowers, so she could fix the mistake super easily. "How about I go back, grab eight more Noxflares, and then you show me all nine memories?"

Fintan grinned. "Tempting. But one Noxflare is really all I need."

Need?

Marella wasn't a fan of that wording.

But before she could ask him what he needed it for, he added, "My offer expires in ten seconds," and started counting down.

By "six" she decided that one memory was better than nothing.

"Fine," she said, pulling the cache from her pocket and holding the marble-size orb up to the light. "But you go first. How do I open this thing?"

No way was she going to risk letting him back out--especially since he probably wasn't going to be happy when he saw his precious flower was stuck in the middle of a giant ice cube.

Fintan held out his hand. "Give me the cache, and I'll open it."

Marella laughed. "Hard pass."

"Ah, but you don't have a choice. I'm the only one who can access the memories. And I need to make physical contact with the cache in order to do so."

Marella squinted at the tiny gadget.

She didn't know much about caches--aside from the fact that only Councillors used them and that each colorful inner crystal held a single Forgotten Secret. But she did know that Dex had already tried everything he could think of to open the cache and failed--and he was one of the best Technopaths ever.

"Do I need to start counting down again?" Fintan asked. "I believe we'd gotten to five..."

Marella chewed her lip. "Uh, how do I know you're not going to destroy the cache or try to hold it for ransom or something?"

Fintan's smile was colder than his cell. "You'll just have to trust me."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening."

Fintan shrugged. "Then our deal is off."

Marella rolled her eyes. "Come on. Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can open your cell door and hand the cache to you."

She wasn't even sure if his cell had a door. The wall looked like one big solid piece of ice.

"You've proven to be very resourceful during our lessons," Fintan reminded her.

"Yeah, but--"

"It's your call," he interrupted. "If you want a memory, you'll have to trust me."

She snort-laughed--but before she could get another word out, he repeated, "You'll just have to trust me." And she could tell that was the only response he was going to give.

She turned to the scary guard, who had started pacing in the shadows. "Is there a way to pass Fintan a small item?"

"Ah, you have a hidden goblin escort--I knew you were resourceful!" Fintan clapped his hands. "And yes, there is a way to pass me my cache, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Any guard can open the disgraceful tube they pass my horrid, frozen bits of food through. The cache should fit nicely."

The guard gripped his sword. "I cannot allow any unauthorized item to enter his cell."

Fintan clicked his tongue. "Clearly you're not considering the fact that I've already had plenty of chances to make this trade--and turned them all down. Do you think I would do that if the cache was even remotely useful to me?"

The goblin couldn't argue with that logic.

Neither could Marella.

And when Fintan went back to counting down, she told the guard, "The Black Swan knows I've been trying to make this trade--and they're working with the Council now. No one would let me do this if they thought the cache was dangerous."

Then again, they'd never discussed the possibility of handing the cache over to Fintan--but surely someone must've considered that during all their endless talking and obsessive overplanning...right?

Besides, if anything went wrong, she could always remind them that this was Sophie's idea.

"I don't like this," the scary guard growled. But Marella gave him her I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing glare until he set the frozen Noxflare down with a particularly dramatic thud, snatched the cache, and spent an eternity squinting at the tiny crystal, spinning it all different ways. "If anything happens, my priority will be subduing the prisoner--not protecting you. Are you certain you want to take that risk?"

Marella absolutely wasn't.

But...this might be their only shot at seeing one of Fintan's Forgotten Secrets.

Plus, she had her tiny little spark buddy she could call on if she needed. Surely she could use that to...

To what?

Take down a superpowerful, much more experienced Pyrokinetic with a history of murdering poeple?

But...did she really want to wimp out?

Sophie wouldn't.

And yeah, Sophie had, like, a permanent bed in the Healing Center. But Marella was pretty sure their whole group would vote "DO IT!"

There were also a dozen other armed goblins who would rush down as backup.

And Linh could attack Fintan with her cutesy snow animals.

It'd almost be worth it to watch Fintan get swallowed up by an ice wave shaped like Princess Purryfins.

"I can handle myself," she decided, using a tone that hopefully sounded intimidating.

Fintan's gleeful laughter echoed of the ice.

The scary guard muttered something about the arrogance of elves as he reached toward the top of Fintan's frozen cell and felt around for a specific spot. A faint clicking sound followed, and a tiny round door slid open--far out of Fintan's reach.

"I can neutralize you within seconds," the guard reminded him as he held the cache up to the opening. "By numerous means. Some far more painful than others."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the absurd lengths the Council has taken to keep me contained," Fintan assured him. "But I don't plan on giving you a reason to use any of them. Not today, at least."

The guard bared his supersharp pointy teeth, and Marella wanted to shout NEVER MIND, JUST KIDDING! But she let the guard shove the cache through the tiny opening--and then it was too late to change her mind.

All she could do was watch the glass orb make its slow descent, rolling around and around and around--down some sort of invisible path etched into the wall of the cell.

Her stomach backflipped with each rotation, and she felt more than a little vomit-y when the cache dropped low enough for Fintan to catch it. But he simply held it up and studied it.

Then he coughed on it.

And sneezed on it.

"Ewwwwwww," Marella groaned when he followed that up by drooling on it. "You know, there are better ways to give it your DNA."

"Yes, I'm aware." Fintan cleared his throat and launched a slimy blob of spit at the cache. "I also know your little Technopath friend is going to ask you how I accessed the memories, so feel free to give him a detailed list." He wiped the cache dry with his fingers and then ran it through his greasy hair before sneezing and coughing on it again. "Some of these methods are vital. Some are distractions. None can be re-created without me--but it'll be fun if he tries, don't you think?"

He laughed so hard, it brought tears to his eyes, and he smeared them across the cache before sneezing and spitting on it again--making Marella very glad she had gloves to keep her hands clean once he returned the cache.

Assuming she actually got it back...

She tried to make out what he was saying when he started mumbling a bunch of stuff into the crystal, but the words were all mushed together. He also tapped the cache in so many different places that she doubted even Sophie and Keefe with their fancy photographic memories would be able to re-create the patterns. And he looked so smug as he did it all that Marella decided to look as bored as possible--which was why she was barely paying attention when the cache flared to life, projecting a small hologram of Fintan standing alone in a wide, empty field.

"Huh," Marella mumbled. "Gotta admit, I was expecting something a little more exciting than a tiny glowing Fintan in the middle of nowhere doing...nothing."

"Then you should learn to be more observant." Fintan pointed to the swaying grass around the hologram's feet, and after a few seconds, Marella realized there was a vine of blooming Noxflares. "I figured I'd show you what Noxflares can do, since you're so generously bringing one back into my life."

Marella squinted at the tiny flowers, waiting for something to happen.

And waiting.

"So...they...blow in the wind?" she asked.

Fintan sighed. "No, they do this."

The hologram of Fintan waved his arms, and all the Noxflares erupted with searing white flames.

"Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah, still not seeing why this needed to be a super-hush-hush Forgotten Secret," Marella grumbled as the Fintan hologram flicked his wrist and added purple fire to the white.

Sure, the flames were pretty--but all flames were beautiful.

"Try thinking like a Pyrokinetic!" Fintan snapped. "Tell me, are there any other flowers that could remain intact under such an inferno?"

Marella couldn't think of any.

And the Noxflares still didn't burn when the Fintan hologram added yellow flames to the fiery mix.

but other than clearly being fire-resistant, Marella didn't see the Noxflares actually doing anything--and the hologram of Fintan must've been equally unimpressed.

He frowned at the flaming petals and dragged a hand down his face, mumbling "something's missing."

"Still not seeing the point of this," Marella noted. "I mean..."

Her voice trailed off as the tiny Fintan waved his arms again and blasted the Noxflares with pink flames--which made the flowers spray sparks in every direction.

The effect was breathtaking.

Kind of like the sky during the Celestial Festival.

But that still didn't necessarily scream, THIS MEMORY IS IMPORTANT.

"How come the grass isn't catching fire?" she asked, grasping for anything that might be significant. "Do the Noxflares protect it or something?"

"No, I was protecting it. A pyrokinetic should always be in control of their flames."

He sounded so smug Marella was tempted to remind him that he let five Pyrokinetics die when he tried to teach them how to call down Everblaze and they all lost control--but that would probably make him throw one of his tantrums and send her away.

She needed the cache back first--and to hopefully find something useful in this boring memory. But sadly, all Fintan's hologram did was stare blankly at the stars and mumble "something's missing" again before the image flashed away.

"That's it?" the scary guard demanded, beating Marella to the complaint.

"Yeah, so...you put on a little fire show all by yourself with some spark-shooting flowers," she added, trying to sum up what she'd seen. "You were clearly disappointed by that little show. And then you must've remembered you needed to..."

She waved her hands, cuing Fintan to fill in the blank with whatever was "missing."

But he just stood there, staring at the cache with the same glazed look he always got whenever he started rambling about the beauty of fire--and Marella wished Linh had come with her after all.

Linh could pelt him with snowballs or something to snap him out of it.

But then she realized...

"You never figured out what was missing--did you?"

Fintan blinked and met her gaze. "Noxflares are full of possibility. But they need to burn."

"That doesn't answer my question," Marella noted.

Fintan shrugged. "Context was not part of our bargain."

"yeah, because I figured when I saw the memory, it would be obvious why it's this big Forgotten Secret. How does you setting some flowers on fire and then realizing you did it wrong matter to anyone?"

"I did nothing wrong," Fintan assured her, with a particularly haughty smile--butt Marella wasn't buying it.

There was a tightness around his eyes that was way too familiar.

Her dad had that same tightness every time her mom was having one of her "bad days," and she knew exactly what it meant.

Disappointment.

Frustration.

A hint of helplessness.

So she marched over to the guard and grabbed the frozen Noxflare from the floor--too irritated to even notice how heavy the ice must've been as she hauled it back.

She plopped it in front of Fintan's cell. "Ta-da! One ugly flower, as promised--and I'm sure you're not surprised that I had to freeze it before i brought it down here."

"I'm not." Fintan dropped to his knees and gazed at the Noxflare like he was seeing a long-lost friend.

He pressed his hand against his cell, trying to get as close as he could. "Such power. Such...promise."

"Uh-huh," Marella agreed, letting his stare and stare, hoping it would help him let his guard down.

When his eyes turned a little teary, she went in for the kill.

"But there is something still missing, isn't there? That's why you saved this memory--to remind yourself to keep looking."

A whole lot of painful silence passed before Fintan slowly nodded.

Marella wanted to feel triumphant.

But all she'd done was prove the entire trade had been pointless.

There was no game-changing clue.

No dirty little secret about the past.

Certainly nothing to help them stop their enemies.

And she had a pretty strong hunch the other eight memories in the cache would be just as ridiculous.

"The answer is out there," Fintan murmured. "I can feel it. I just can't grasp it. Perhaps..."

"Perhaps?" Marella prompted when his eyes locked with hers.

Fintan stepped closer to the ice, keeping his voice low, like he didn't want the guard to hear him. "Perhaps a different Pyrokinetic is meant to find the truth. One who's already convinced the Council to trust her."

Marella laughed. "The Council doesn't trust me."

"The fact that you're here for a pyrokinesis lesson says otherwise--particularly since the lesson is with me." He started circling his cell again, mumbling under his breath and nodding. The only words Marella caught were "possible," "improvising," and "best option."

After three more times around the cell, he stopped in front of Marella again, leaning even closer to the icy wall as he whispered, "I believe it's time for me to offer a trade of my own."

"A trade," Marella repeated, not missing the way the scary guard gripped his sword.

Fintan glared at him. "This conversation is between me and my prodigy. She stands here of her own free will, shielded by who knows how many different kinds of protections--and she can leave anytime she pleases. Your presence is no longer needed."

"You still have her gadget," the guard argued.

"I suppose I do. but that can be easily remedied." Fintan set the cache on whatever invisible ledge it had slid down in the first place and gave it a good shove, sending it spinning up the path toward the top of the cell.

The guard had to scramble to catch it when it launched out of the ice bubble.

"See?" Fintan said, shifting his gaze back to Marella. "I can be trusted."

"Pretty sure the only thing I can trust is that you'll do what's best for you," Marella countered.

"As long as you get what you want, why would you care? After all, no matter what, I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" He waved his arms around his little ice bubble, which suddenly looked way less secure than it had during her other visits. "Oh, relax--all I'm asking for is a little information."

Marella crossed her arms. "Right--and information has never gotten anyone hurt or killed."

"It's not that kind of secret. It's..." He frowned. "Honestly, I don't know what it is--and for someone my age, with my connections, that says something, doesn't it? I doubt any of the Vackers even know the full truth."

"Then how am I supposed to find it?" Marella demanded.

"As I said, you've proven to be quite resourceful. Particularly when you team up with your little friends." He scowled at the guard again before motioning her to step closer--until her ear was practically pressed up against the ice.

A voice in the back of her head kept screaming, WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO HIM?

But...she was curious.

And there was nothing wrong with hearing his offer, was there?

Fintan's breath fogged the ice, obscuring his face as he whispered, "All I ask is that if you ever find out what's missing from the Noxflares, you share it with me."

"Why?" Marella glanced at the frozen flower, wishing she could see something more than just ugly shriveled petals.

"Because I want to know," Fintan said simply. "And because I can give you what you want in return."

"The rest of the memories in your cache," Marella clarified.

Fintan nodded. Then his lips curled into a smile. "And one other--something you've long wondered about, even though you probably don't admit it to yourself."

Marella raised one eyebrow, refusing to show any more interest than that.

Fintan cupped his hands around his mouth and pressed them to the ice before he whispered, "I know what happened to your mother."

Marella sucked in a breath.

"Yes," Fintan added. "I'm talking about her 'accident'--if we can really call it that. I know why she fell. And why her injuries were so incurable."

Marella stumbled back, collapsing into the nearest throne and hugging herself to stop her body from shaking with tremors that had nothing to do with the cold.

A tiny, terrified part of her had always thought the story she'd been told about her mom's fall hadn't totally made sense.

But everyone--everyone--was convinced it had been an accident.

Even her father.

And if it wasn't...

She leaned toward Fintan. "I don't need your games."

"Oh, this definitely isn't a game. But it's the only way you'll ever know the truth, and before you start overthinking everything, consider this: You have all the power here. Make the trade, don't make the trade--it's totally your call. You also don't have to make a decision right away. I'm trapped in this prison. I'll never find the answer on my own--and I'll never know if you find the answer unless you decide to tell me. So there's zero pressure. No one even knows we've had this conversation--and don't worry about the guard. See how frustrated he looks? That's because I made sure he only heard what I wanted him to hear. The rest is our little secret."

Our little secret.

Fintan was probably the last person she should have a secret with.

And yet...he had a point.

No one knew he'd made her this offer--and it wasn't like she'd come to any decision.

She didn't even have the information Fintan wanted anyway!

And with the way their investigations always seemed to go, she'd probably only find a whole lot more questions.

So there was really no point in telling anyone about this.

She could tell them whens he needed to.

If she needed to.

That wouldn't be wrong...would it?

It didn't feel wrong--or it wouldn't have if Fintan's smile wasn't so creepy.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," she said, wanting to make that very clear.

"You're not," Fintan assured her. "So how about we put this out of our minds and get started with our lesson? I'm sure your Hydrokinetic friend is wondering why you haven't come up to practice yet."

Linh was probably starting to worry.

She'd probably also built enough snow animals to make a frozen Sanctuary.

"Fine," Marella said, standing up and dusting ice off her cape. "What do you want me to work on today?"

"How about I teach you how to make those colored flames you saw in the memory," Fintan suggested. "You know, in case that ever comes in handy."

He winked, and the guard groaned and held out the cache to Marella. "Sound like I'm no longer needed."

"You aren't" Fintan agreed.

The guard growled--looking scarier than ever--and turned to march away. But he spun back after a few steps. "He's right that I don't know what he offered you. But I can tell you're tempted. And I hope you're smart enough to reject it. Never make a deal with someone who has nothing to lose."

"I'm not," Marella promised.

And she wasn't.

She hadn't made any decisions--except to keep this to herself. But that didn't mean anything.

She was just trying to avoid a ton of drama and arguing and having people give her advice she didn't need.

Plus, everyone has secrets.

Shoot--the great Sophie Foster had more secrets than anyone.

So it was fine.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had changed.

Time to focus on controlling her fire.

And yet, for the rest of the lesson, the tiny spark in her heart burned hotter and hotter and hotter. Whispering a new plea.

Trust me.

#kotlc #haha! did it!#it's entirely possible there are errors here. so if anyone notices one feel free to point it out so I can fix it #this isn't professional or anything #but anyway. wow that short story huh?#major win for the fandom #in my opinion #loss for my poor poor fingers though #my god #did this instead of homework

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darkscorpiox · 1 year ago

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Utena - Analysis on the opening

I don’t know if someone has already done it, but here’s my interpretation of the opening.

Warning: very, VERY long post and mention of scenes from the show, enough to be considered spoilers (sorry 😅)

Edit: I’ve made an analysis on the first ending as well

Let’s live heroically, let’s live with style. (Just a long, long time.)

The opening starts with our two main characters naked and in a fetal position, indicating their status of “newborn” in the story. Then, they are clad in the garbs of their respective roles. Interestingly, despite facing and leaning toward each other, their eyes remain close. In the case of Utena, it symbolizes her inability to see beyond her own narrative of the heroic prince saving the princess. As for Anthy, it’s her resignation to not see anything beyond her role of Rose Bride which she has played for decades/centuries, hence the long, long time.

Even if the two of us are torn apart… (Let go of me…) …take my revolution.

In the next sequence, not only are they not looking at each other, but they are also back-to-back, another indication that they are positioned to be at odds with each other, whether they want to or not. Still, despite the obstacles thrown at them, despite Anthy’s attempts to make Utena give up on her (“Let go of me…”), the latter doesn’t stop telling her to take her hand (revolution) and that’s what she did.

In the sunlit garden, we both joined out hands.

Miki’s sunlit garden is an idealized memory, so it makes sense to compare Utena’s goal of becoming a prince to the former. Also, the tower, where her journey is supposed to end with her heteronormative “happily ever after”, is where she and Anthy join hands and the latter’s revolution begins.

The sequence where Utena walks with the male students has a “one of the boys” kind of vibe and that might have been the intent. The tomboy character may appear progressive by refusing to conform to traditionally feminine gender norms, but that’s instead a sexist concept because it implies that Utena’s gender, her femininity (and by association, anything branded as “girly”), is the one thing that makes her less than her fellow male schoolmates. Also, she looks over her shoulder, something or someone (Anthy?) catching her attention which stops her from blindly following the other boys’ lead.

Drawing close for comfort, we both swore…

In Anthy’s case, due to her hair and skin color, the vibe she emanates as she walks with her fellow female schoolmates is “not like other girls”, another trope which hurts women by marginalizing the few “different/special ones” from the “normal/average ones” or vice versa. However, the reason she turned around (Utena? Her perspicacity?) is what helps her preserve the part of her identity which is still deep within her. So being different isn’t a bad thing as long as every person, especially girls, are given the same courtesy.

If you read the Japanese lyrics, you would know chikai (from chikau, meaning “to swear/vow”) is at the beginning of Anthy’s sequence, when we see the gates of Ohtori, where she swears to find Utena again.

(Also, did you notice that their respective sequences begin with a shot of where their story in Ohtori ends?)

…never again would we ever fall in love. (Every time.)

This line is sung as our two protagonists stand face to face in Anthy’s cage-like greenhouse, where the cycle of the quest for revolution always (re)starts. That vow of never falling in love again, along with that Every time, makes me wonder about how many games had taken place before Utena. How many times had Anthy been engaged to a “chosen one”? How many of those “chosen ones” did she grow to love, yet still choose to betray? How many times did she swore to never love another again only to do so despite said promise to herself? Utena, by ending the cycle, makes the vow mentioned before much sweeter: she and Anthy choose to never fall in love again because they have pledged their love for each other till death do them part (like a married couple 🥰🤵🏻‍♀️👰🏾‍♀️🥰).

I see that photo of us standing cheek to cheek… …and place a bit of my loneliness in our smiles. (Revolution!)

At this moment, the past represented by Utena and Anthy lying down, facing each other, and the future represented by the lyrics paralleled each other.

Past: a (naively) smiling Utena and a (falsely) smiling Anthy -> Anthy gives the white rose, the symbol of the Prince and by association, patriarchy, the source of her eternal pain, to Utena who is unaware of the dark history connected to it -> (failed) Revolution by dueling (transition to the dueling arena)

Future: the photo at the end of Episode 39 -> Anthy’s longing for Utena -> (successful) Revolution by leaving Akio

Even if I dream, even if I cry, even if I get hurt… …reality keeps on coming recklessly.

This sequence is about the Duelists.

Utena being the one who dreams is self-explanatory.

Saionji, if you pause at the right time, is seen with tears in his eyes. Behind his arrogant attitude is nothing but a mentally weak and insecure boy who throws violent tantrums when things don’t go his way.

Juri is no doubt the one most hurt in the series, not only because of her gender, but also because of her sexual orientation (I’ve made a post about it).

Miki and Nanami being the ones hit by reality makes sense due to the knowledge they idealize the relationship they shared with their respective siblings when they were children.

But what about Touga? Maybe it’s the confidence that he could get the power to revolutionize the (his) world if he emulates the system which had hurt him only to realize that such way of doing things won’t get him closer to his goal. Or, since he’s the first antagonist of the show, giving us a taste of what Akio, another male character whose inside is the opposite of his princely front, could do to girls, maybe he represents the reality/truth of the (imperfect) world.

All these Duelists, these teenagers, fight each other for a purpose and that later turns out to be futile after they find out that the rules they play by are a cover for a much more sinister plot.

I wanna find my own place, the value of being…

The first half, we focus on Utena who raises her sword with a determined look as the blue sky turned golden and the dueling arena crumbled. Utena rejects the narrative Akio wants for her and in the process, breaks the world he has created (and kept Anthy in).

While we zoom in on Utena, symbolizing her will to move forward, it’s the opposite with Anthy. Expression blank, she put some distance between her and Utena/the viewer(s), letting herself (her true self) disappear with Akio’s self-made world.

This sequence foreshadows what will happen in Episode 38.

…the person I’ve been until now…

But as it is shown in Episode 39, Anthy didn’t disappear in the fall of Akio’s world and stood up against her brother (riding a horse), mirroring Utena.

Also, we see Dios opens his eyes as the dueling arena crumbles to dust.

In Episode 13, Akio is conversing with a “sealed” Dios who “glare[s] at” him for wanting to bring the Prince back into the world. Dios had been “sealed away” because playing Prince had been killing him. Anthy had become the world’s sole target of their hatred so that he would no longer carry that great burden on his shoulders ever again. Dios is angry at Akio for not only trying to turn her sacrifice into a fruitless endeavor, but for also taking part in her eternal torment by making her an accomplice in his scheme.

Akio has internalized the teachings of patriarchy. He now idealizes the Prince, forgetting that his current self isn’t the result of Anthy sealing the latter’s power away. He had, of his own volition, casted away his “nobility” and enjoyed the privileges of his gender. He was free of the duties expected from the Prince yet chose to not use that freedom to search for a way to save his sister without taking on that mantle again. Protected by a patriarchal system, Akio is in fact afraid of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders again despite his desire to return to his “glory days”. He wants to be the Prince again (regression), but also doesn’t want to give up his life of privilege. There is no step toward self-improvement. And that’s why his quest for revolution is nothing but a pretext to play people like a fiddle, especially the vulnerable ones like children and women. I think he subconsciously knows he’s maintaining a perpetual cycle meant to end in failure, but he’s too lost in his self-centeredness to take a third option, to destroy the limits of his coffin. In other words, Akio must let patriarchy (manifested through the game and the dueling arena) disappear in order to regain the lost part of him that is Dios, because what the latter really wants is to live in a better world, one where Princes aren’t needed anymore.

Let’s find the strength to throw it all away. Strip down to nothing all.

Utena having the strength to throw everything away references her decision to give up on the heteronormative “happy ending” given to her at the cost of Anthy’s well-being.

Anthy being stripped of everything references her true (naked) self within her coffin.

Become like rose petals, blowing free!

Honestly, that part was a bit difficult to interpret. We do see petals blown in the wind when Utena beats boys at basketball, but the only time I saw them concerning Anthy (and by association, the duels) was when the Duelist gets “deflowered”, and I didn’t get a feeling of freedom from it. Or so I thought at first. Knowing that the duels are part of Akio’s plot which is nothing but a wild goose chase, it makes sense in the context that losing means some time away from Akio’s control and thus, a chance to reflect and for self-improvement. Also, if the dueling arena is like a groomed flower, then its rubble is the petals. This might be foreshadowed in Episode 9, when Anthy falls with rose petals scattered everywhere as Utena tries to catch her.

Even if the two of us are torn apart… …I swear that I will change the world.

We have a return of Even if the two of us are torn apart… (Let go of me…) / …take my revolution. This time, there’s no request to let go of the other party and Utena is taking the next step toward (self-)improvement. If you pause at the right time, you can see she is not in a fetal position like at the beginning of the opening. Now, it looks like she is opening herself to the real world.

Anthy is not present, but that’s because she hasn’t reunited with Utena yet. Until that day comes, the latter will keep fighting for the world both deserve to live in.

In conclusion, the opening is a summary of the entire series and foreshadows how it would end.

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katsukota · 6 months ago

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Mean x Meaner

(part two)

I'm writing some of this the same day as part one but i wanted to be mysterious and make it have multiple parts.. 🤫

Same warnings as last time probably ! Spoiler references to the anime and chapters, Part one : 💗

Eventually, and reluctantly, you learned more about each other.

To you, "Bakugou Katsuki" You learned to be his name, was egotistical, over his head, and bound to die in a petty battle after making a stupid mistake. Not one you'd ever make, of course.

You also knew, his birthday was April 20th. A taurus, but on the cusp of aries which made sense. He had a childhood friend who "Pisses me off even more than you do", and had a singular dimple.

The main thing you learned, and what you were most excited about, was finding out he liked spicy food. Just like you.

After being the leagues captive for a good minute, you'd grown unfortunately comfortable and accepting of your situation. Of course, your content mindset didn't change your bossy, and demanding personality. The league had to grow accustomed to you as well, so when you screamed at god knows what hour, shocking only Bakugou, they weren't surprised at your request (more of a requirement) of any spicy food, and now.

Bakugou wasn't new to bossing around and bullying villains, honestly everyone really. But he couldn't help but be left in astonishment seeing how you practically walked part of the league like a dog. You were dominating, and it was clear to him and the LOV, that some demands were to be met if they wanted not even your cooperation, but basic behavior. If they didn't want a shit show, and possibly an escaped witness, your asks were top priority. For a captive, you asserted a role above those who you saw as inferior, even if they had the upper hand. You strung them along, giving them crumbs of hope that you'd help, taking their gifts and turning your head when they asked for anything in return. And that was at best, if push came to shove, he heard of the stories of you and the villains getting into fights that you'd sometimes share during late nights. But nevertheless, you never left, even though you clearly could. You never seemed to even be curious about what could lie outside of this shitty underground bar. You were content with the mutual Stockholm Syndrome you and the league had been trapped in.

Thats how you two ended up there, two bowls of spicy udon. Whilst Bakugou was suspicious, you were relaxed, eating it while complimenting a "Kurogiri" for his cooking.

When you noticed him still being tied up, you got closer, and held the large, bowlish spoon up to his lips.

"Eat."

He wondered what this place was doing to him. If anyone else had even dared to think of this, the whole building would have been sent flying into the air. He would've created a coffin for you in the sky.

But, here he was, opening his mouth carefully to let you press the utensil against his tongue.

A scary thought bubbled in him, that perhaps it wasnt what this place was doing to him, but what you were doing to him.

As he went to swallow, he felt the end of the spoon get jabbed against his uvula and hit against his throat.

Fuck that. You werent doing anything to him. Besides making him feel this burning feeling. It must be hate.

"Hey ! What the fuck ?" He scowled, his face looking like one of a pitbull, bread to fight and be dangerous, but when his fangs were beared, you couldn't help but coo at him.

You laughed again, the one he hated so much. The one he hated falling asleep too, and waking up too. He hated you, and all your pranks, he hated villains, and he hated that they had brought you here. Of course, he hated that because it meant he had to deal with you. He couldn't give less of a shit about you outside of his tolerance. Right ?

To Bakugou, You were like Pandora's Box. But he hadn't opened you, he was thrown into a cage, where a tiger pounced out of the box and injected all the wonders and horror into his brain like a lobotomy.

They were obnoxious, annoying, bossy, rude, loud, brash. The type of person if you were walking in the hallways, hes sure he wouldn't even have the chance to move out of your way before you'd knock him over on purpose. Hes sure that during movie nights, you wouldn't choose a movie you liked, but calculate which one could scare or piss off the others the most. You were a fucking demon.

And worst of all, you were like one of the demons on his shoulder. He was stuck tied up, and even though you absolutely could get him out, absolutely run off together, (hed ditch you soon after, obviously), but instead you stayed behind him, resting your head on his shoulder to piss him off.

"Stop touching me, freak." He snapped, counting down the seconds until the heroes would save him. He wondered, what would happen to you ? Would you even want to leave ? Would you decide to finally join the league ? Would he fight you someday in the future ? Not that it mattered. He could obviously beat you.

You lifted your head up slightly, still in his space, but not touching him. "Hm ? I'm not touching you ? Is your brain fried from all that stupid hero shit ?"

He butted his head against yours, knocking you away slightly. "You're so hypocritical. What about you and your villain shit ?"

"Pfft." You wrapped your arms around his chest. At first, he almost became flustered. Confused at the escalation in touch. "I'm not a villain. I think all of you roleplayers are stupid." Your arms lifted, locking the boy into a chokehold. Not enough to harm him seriously, but enough to rough him up.

He let out an amusing strand of chokes and curses, "I'm gonna blow you to bits !" or "Youre so fucking done when I get out of this crap !" The usual bickering.

Your sadistic tendencies and the laughter you didnt even try to hide ran down his spine. "You sound like a fish out of water, cat got your tongue ? Cmon. Spit it out." You loosened your arms as tears of excitement threatened to spill past your lash line. You'd never admit it, but having someone around did make things more entertaining.

Though, you and Toga had a few hangouts, and Mr Compress was no stranger. You've kept Kurogiri company while hes cooked, you and Twice have had hilarious conversations. You aren't a fan of villains or heroes, but you understand and listened to Spinner whilst he talked about Stain. You wouldnt say you were friends with any of your captors, but youd be lying if you said you didnt have your fair share of human interaction. So why was suddenly having someone like Bakugou around making things more lively ? You attributed it to how easily you could tick him off, and how you two naturally clashed. Nothing else.

Tomorrow would be the official indoctrination. You knew this, as on the first of every month they'd bring you out to the main 'living room' space and gather around you, having an attempt at converting you. You were excited to see how Bakugou would react.

You thought more, unable to sleep. Your ideals were clear, and set in stone. Everyone playing pretend, thinking their some big shot hero or villain was stupid to you. It was a fancy way to make cops and robbers seem like fun.

But if they did convince Bakugou into joining, what would you do ? Its not that you want to be a villain, but the thought of him having that power over you, turning on to the side of your captors made you sick.

No it didnt.

You didn't care about the fact they were your kidnappers, you knew that had little to no control over you. So why does the thought of him leaving make you feel so sour ? Maybe you just don't want to be alone. It can't be anything more.

"What's got your face looking all confused and uglier than usual ?" A gruff voice spoke out.

"Fuckin creep, looking at me while I'm trying to sleep ?" You spat back. Usually you were just rude without any anger, but right now you weren't in your best mood. "Last I checked there isnt any mirrors, so go to sleep before I bash your fatass head in."

"Well fuck me for making sure you weren't dying over there."

"Tomorrow they're going to officially try and bring you into the League of Villains." You looked at him, ignoring the previous scuffle. Usually you wouldn't have told him, curious to see his blind reaction. But you wanted answers, and you were going to get them. "Only god knows why they want your weak ass, youd contribute nothing."

"Shut up, will you ?! I crush the weak, don't categorize me as that, ill fuckin kill you." A nerve was clearly hit, but when is it not ?

"So, you crush the weak ? Yea that sounds strong." You said sarcastically, if he was strong then he'd pick on strong people. But you knew you couldn't get on his ass for that. "Think you'll join the league then ? They don't just crush the weak. They crush everyone and everything. Seems like your idea of fun."

"You're out of your mind." He groaned. Hed had this conversation with you about every twenty minutes. "The heroes are coming, every minute I know they're getting closer and closer. They're gonna get us out of here." His heart sped up. Us ? Why the fuck would he say that. "That's why I'm gonna be a hero. Theyre way fuckin cooler, and always win." Maybe if he was already a hero, he could have saved you from this place sooner.

You rolled over, unable to look him in the eyes. Why was it ? Your heart felt weird, and you felt oddly warm at the usage of 'Us'. "You're delusional," you sighed, "Even if they do save "us", it's not like I'm gonna be some hero."

"Well why not ? It's not like.." He paused. He'd never said anything like this before, 'complimenting' someone wasn't his thing. Fuck he hated you, he hated you for making him say such things. "It's not like your quirk is all that shitty. Like you said, people like us get kidnapped by these losers for a reason."

You wanted to kill him. He wasn't being an asshole, you couldn't even justify just slapping his brain out of his ear. But implying you'd ever be one. It was just silly. You didn't trust yourself to speak, surely it'd shake. Out of rage, of course.

When he saw you respond with a middle finger and lay further away, he changed his approach. "Fine, then what are y'gonna do ? You're my age, you have to be in school. Theres a general study where I go, im sure you could get accepted."

"Pfft, are you gonna miss me or something ?" You snickered. It's starting to sound like he wants you to come with him. Deep down, the thought of coming with him is sweet. It feels happy. But happiness doesn't last, and you doubt that that's what he means. You're just twisting it to tease him.

"What, like you won't ?" You sucked your breath in. What the fuck is he about to go on about ? "Why did you tell me about the League's plan tomorrow ? I know you would've loved to see my face when it randomly came up. Don't tell me you were trying to figure out what I was gonna do so you could gauge your next action ?" You could hear the smirk on his face.

"You're so stupid." You said, sounding unbothered. "Just tryna make sure you don't turn into one of my captors. Sure you'd love to flaunt that power imbalance in my face." You already knew this was not the case.

"Do you think im stupid ?" He groaned, annoyed at your excuse.

"Obviously, the fact you even asked when I made that clear is proof enough." You yawned, pretending to be bored of everything that was Katsuki Bakugou.

"The League is like your fuckin lap dog, if anything you'd just get control over me."

"You already are a dumb dog, I can control you as much as I want from inside this cell. Now shut up before I put you down."

"I'm really going to kill you someday."

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #mha x reader #mha hcs #bakugou hcs #katsukota #mean x meaner #mean and meaner

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