#also just the fact that nine year olds actually watch this show like

[alaskan-wallflower]

modern day south park fans:

[linkspooky]

The Death of Kenjaku

So I was planning to write this meta the week that Kenjaku died, but decided to delay until we got full confirmation of his death. Something I didn't believe in even after Kenjaku passed the merger onto Sukuna. However, watching this video about death in Jujutsu Kaisen inspired me to finish this post. Not because I disagree with anything the YouTuber is saying, but because they can speculate on the meaning of so many deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen but can't find the meaning in Kenjaku's sudden death. This has led me to speculate why Gege made the choice to kill Kenjaku in the way that he did. What meaning is there in Kenjaku's abrupt and unsatisfying death?

Who is Kenjaku?

The first step in understanding Kenjaku's death is of course understanding how he lived. We actually know incredibly little about Kenjaku's character by design. Despite the fact he's literally in Geto's body, he's not meant to have sympathetic or human motivations to his actions (though hold onto that "human motivation" in your head for a moment). No flashback sequence shows the audience why this guy is the way he is, no single event seems to have driven him to do what he did.

This is what we know about Kenjaku in brief. He is a sorcerer who is over a thousand years old who was around in Sukuna's day. He once had a friendship with Tengen, but found her original self boring and unambitious. He also contrasts heavily with Tengen, who lives outside of humanity, because he has lived among humanity for 1,000 years. One of those lifetimes was Noritoshi Kamo who violated a woman and conducted heinous experiments. He produced ten children in his one thousand years, the nine death painting siblings and Yuji Itadori. He considers the first children boring, because human and curse hybrids turned out too normal.

He also partially blames himself for how boring they are, because he can't create anything that will exceed his expectations, the only thing that can exceed his expectations is born in chaos. He spent a thousand years organizing the culling games, and wants to use the games to create a merger, because he thinks creating a merger between Tengen and Humanity will create something entirely new and interesting. He also believes the way towards the future lies in further optimizing cursed energy, not in breaking away from it the way Yuki Tsukumo tried to do and Maki has.

The only people whose word we have on Kenjaku's motivations are Kenjaku himself, and Tengen's word and Tengen themselves who claims to not know what goes on in the human heart.

From all of the above Kenjaku seems to be a shallow character who's motivations can be summed up as "because I can" and "I want to see what happens." This shallowness is intentional however, as Gege who once praised the minimalist storytelling of Nasu and Evangelion likes to pick and choose what crumbs of backstory he gives out for his characters. We've never gotten any exposition on the Gojo clan, but we have an entire chapter about Takaba's failed career as a stand-up comic. This isn't a judgement of good or bad writing, this is just how Gege writes as minimalist as possible. This is in line with how Gege writes the ancient sorcerers as well, they are all much more shallow driven by instinct or Freudian Id (I desire) rather than the higher reasoning of modern-day sorcerers. Takaba uses comedy as a means of communication and bridging the gaps between people, Higuruma's backstory is the critique of the modern day justice system. Ishigori apparently lived a satisfying life where he was succesful and had good women, but that wasn't enough so he wants to get into a fight with Yuta to satisfy his hunger and feel like he's eaten desert.

It sounds shallow when I summarize it in text, but in the context of the fight with Yuta, it's a challenge for Yuta who for the most part only cares about his loved ones and sees the world through his love goggles to be more selfish and fight for his own desires. It's also reflective of a more basic and instinctual kind of thinking, as opposed to the higher reasoning and logic that modern-day sorcerers apply.

I'm keeping most of this first part to text for this reason, like go back and read the fight with Ishigori and Yuta. If I summarize Ishigori's character reasoning out of context it sounds stupid, but read the fight and it works because it's ID (I Desire) vs. Yuta's superego in not only having to collect points to help rescue Tsumiki, find a way to protect all the innocent people in the Culling Games, and also collect enough points to take on Kenjaku himself so Gojo won't have to. Meanwhile Ishigori's just fighting to get some of that sweet desert, the shallow works in contrast to the more layered motivations of our heroes.

Kenjaku is a shallow archetype fighting to satisfy his baser impulses (in his case curiosity) in comparison to the main characters who are fighting for more complicated reasons and often people besides themselves.

The question then becomes what archetype is Kenjaku. In that case answering who Kenjaku is is quite simple.

Kenjaku is a clown.

It might be more accurate to say that Kenjaku embodies what's commonly known as the "trickster archetype" but I'mma go with clown.

The most obvious example of a clown villain is what most consider the joker to be, that is a silly little clown man who challenges the straight faced and grim batman and sews chaos where Batman attempts to establish law and order in Gotham and make the city into a better place.

From the book Batman and Psychology:

More than any other villains, the Joker and Two-face reflect Batman himself as funhouse distortions, converses of who and what he is. The laughing, jesting, brightly colored Joker contrasts with grim, dark Batman. The Joker is the Joker. No alter ego. The film's opening bank robbery shows him wearing a clown mask over clown makeup, Under the surface there's only more Joker. He gives no history except inconsistent lies. When he finally considers the impact of his demand Batman unmask, he retracts the threat and demands that Batman's identity remain undisclosed. He wants a batman who has no other self, a Dark Knight whose only deeper layer is further darkness.

Is there a better descriptor for Kenjaku then these words?

Kenjaku is Kenjaku. No alter ego. A clown mask over clown makeup., Under the surface there's only more Kenjaku.

In other words, what you see is what you get.

Kenjaku even mirrors Joker's opinion of Batman, he thinks people should be more like him, not the other way around. He's not the outlier, he's being true to humanity's basic impulses of curiousity and discovery.

A more apt comparison as a clown though would probably be Loki, one of the most classic examples of clowning in the shared mythology of humanity. The character who challenges the common wisdom of gods like Odin who suspended themselves from the world tree for eleven days in order to gain wisdom. Loki, who through his trickery manages to bring about the events of Ragnarok for no deeper reason than because he can. Everyone swore not to harm Balder and Loki goes to find something that can harm him because BET.

Mythological Loki doesn't need a deeper motivation because what he represents in the mythology is someone who challenges authority and brings about a change, because in Norse Mythology nothing lasts forever and no era is permanent. Jujutsu Kaisen is also a story about how things should not in fact stay the same and tradition is bad sometimes.

When Kenjaku finds Tengen's true body he's curled up in a tree root in the fetal position, and he killed what is basically the all-knowing, all-seeing supposedly immortal sorcerer that maintains the status quo of japan, it's not exactly subtle.

Kenjaku is a clown, and clown's gotta clown. We don't need any more explanation that, it's more about what he does for the story. However, what he represents, the deep intellectual curiosity, and also a drive to disrupt the status quo in an attempt to see something more interesting can also be analyzed more deeply because they are human emotions that motivate us as well. The same way that Mahito is an inhuman monster, but he's created and motivated by the fear of other humans, something all of us have. '

Before moving onto his death though, I wanna hammer in how Kenjaku really is just motivated by these two things, a desire to see something interesting, and intellectual curiosity by comparing him to other characters.

The Clown in Fiction

I've already compared Kenjaku to Loki and the Joker, but when it comes to someone who wants to disrupt the entire order of the world simply because they're bored we've got to go to the original girlboss.

So there are plenty of villains who go "I'm evil because I'm bored" but they usually tend to be pretty shallow, either shallowly written for the lulz evil characters who just exist for shock value or just kinda dull. No one has ever done it as good as Junko Enoshima and no one ever will again.

For those who need context DanganRonpa is a death game series where the main villain basically has caused the apocalypse, wiped out most of humanity, and then induces survivors in a bunker to kill each other in a death game, where if someone commits a succesful murder they can escape the bunker, but if they're caught in a trial they're executed. Also, if they're not convicted in the trial everyone else is killed, motivating the jury to find and execute the guilty murderer.

Junko Enoshima the main villain and orchestrator of this death game ended the world because despair. She wants to inflict despair on everyone because despair. Because hope sucks and despair is where it's at.

It sounds shallow and it is and Kodaka has said in interview he wrote Junko to be a villain character with zero redeeming character traits, and no sympathetic backstory to describe why she is the way she is, but there is still something motivating her.

If you go a bit deeper into the lore and read Dangan Ronpa Zero, there is an entire book which explains the lengths which Junko goes to feel normal human emotions. The thing is much like Kenjaku Junko is too smart for her own good, everything is predictable and therefore everything bores her. Once in an attempt to live normally, she literally lobotomizes herself, makes it so that she can't remember anything and has continual amnesia constantly forgetting what just happened to her, because that's the only way she can live without knowing everything that's going to happen and constantly predicting everyone's actions.

Junko has whatever her universe's version of the six-eyes is, but instead of lording it over other people like Gojo and basking in her superiority she wants to feel normal, and connected to the world. If she can't have that she tries to make the world as unpredictable place as possible so she can experience it the same way that everyone else does.

Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can save you from a boring future.

I'm still not describing it properly because I don't want to go into a Danganronpa essay in this post about Jujutsu Kaisen, but one example I always use is two characters from American Dragon Jake Long. They're a pair of twins who see the future, one always sees happy things, and one always sees sad things. The one who has happy visions is a goth who's very depressed and the one who sees disaster is an incredibly peppy girl.

Jake is so confused as to why the twin who always sees good visions is so depressed, and she basically tells him to imagine having every good thing, every small little surprise, every pleasure taken out of life.

Kara: When you only see good things, nothing's special anymore. All the pleasant surprises are taken out of life. Sara: But, when you only see bad stuff, even the smallest bit of good news makes you happy!

All of this to say what Junko feels isn't just boredom, or a desire to commit evil for evil's sake, but also a full on existential crisis where she's simply too smart so she doesn't feel any connection to other people or the world around her. In order to feel that connection, that connection that everyone else has, to feel like she is actually a participant in her life not an observer she's willing to go to extremes to make the world a more interesting place, to therefore make her own life feel satisfying.

Kenjaku vs. The World (Kenjaku Pilgrim's sad little life)

To connect all this back to Kenjaku imagine the profound existential despair of a person who's lived for a thousand years, and felt bored all that time. Sukuna is at least a hedonist, he gets his fun by getting into fights, humans might be bugs to him but they're tasty bugs.

Kenjaku goes to similiar motivations and has similiar extremes, he's uninvested in the world around him, he's lived a thousand years but has no attachment to the world, to life, to the people around him. I said that Junko wants to be a participant in life not an all seeing observer and that was purposeful language because to bring back an old post. I rambled on this post about Gojo that part of Gojo's problem is that he only experiences observer-to-object relationships or I to it.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the “I” towards “it” towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of “I” towards “Thou” in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

In Buber's terms, those who only experience the first type of relationships are only observing the world around them not relating to them. Kenjaku doesn't relate to other human beings because they are objects, he only experiences subject -> object relationships and never subject -> subject.

Buber also goes on to theorize that meaning in our lives comes from subject -> subject relationships we form with other people.

Kenjaku jokingly says that to be his friend you have to never bore him and be his equal, but there's no one considers his equal because he's the subject and everyone else are just objects.

He regrets he can't sit down and talk theories with Tsukumo Yuki because she's one of the few people who think like him.

Kenjaku is a paradox of an incredibly brilliant man who is also shallow as a puddle that you can stand in and not get your socks wet. However, he tragically can't really form a more complex identity because our identities are formed by our relationships to other people and Kenjaku doesn't relate to anybody.

That's basically the theme of the whole Choso and Kenjaku fight, Choso is a weird aborted fetus of a curse who still has a strong identity and is able to feel unconditional love for Yuji because of the connection of family and the ideas of brotherhood that binds the two. Kenjaku is a bad father who abandoned Choso because they were "boring" but also never really gave them a chance to grow up or be interesting, he just dismissed them offhand and moved on to the next weird science project.

However, his reason for dismissing Choso isn't Choso's fault but rather a case of Psychological projection. It's not Choso who is boring, but rather Kenjaku himself, he said so earlier.

"What I can create, does not exceed the bounds of my own potential. The answer is always flickering darkly in chaos."

Kenjaku cannot look within to find anything satisfying abput his life because there's nothing inside of him. He doesn't have a fully formed identiy he's just ID, and because he tramples all over other people to form his desires he also cannot ever form a full ego. Just like Sukuna and most of the ancient sorcerers he's a paradox of being all ego, and yet having an underdeveloped ego with shallow motivators.

Kenjaku cannot look within because he's a boring person, and he cannot look for other people to find worth in his life because they're just objects, so instead he looks into the void, he tries to change the world around him by spreading more chaos hoping that it will make something unpredictable happen in front of his eyes - and that will give him the meaning and investment in his life he's deprived himself of because he refuses to form relationships with other people.

It's the Gojo problem. It's the Kashimo problem. It's not the Sukuna problem, because Sukuna admits he doesn't care about and rejects things like love and meaning.

If Kenjaku makes the world around him a more interesting place, he will be able to live in it. It's the same as Gojo trying to raise people up to his level by creating stronger students.

So after going to great length to demonstrate how powerful and all-consuming Kenjaku's boredom is, and how cut off he is from his own humanity, here's the part where I sort of defend his death.

Wouldn't it be funny if the joke character killed the main villain?

Let's be honest it was Takaba's kill here, Yuta just camped and killstole. I think part of the problem with people not understanding the meaning behind Kenjaku's sudden and unexpected death is attributing the death to Yuta cutting his head off out of nowhere, and not Takaba's thematic victory over Kenjaku.

Takaba represents a blindspot for Kenjaku which is why the main characters use him as a weapon against him, and he also calls out in a fashion Kenjaku's hypocrisy. First and foremost, Kenjaku presents himself as an agent of change, but he actually has no interest in many of the modern sorcerers and holds a bias towards the heian era as the peak of sorcery. He even says that he's going to bring back the Heian Golden Age to Sukuna at the end of Shibuya arc.

Because that's what Chaos is Kenjaku, things being the same as they were 1,000 years ago. Kenjaku is an agent of change and chaos and somehow his definition of change is... resetting things back to the past because the sorcerers of the past were so much better than today.

Kenjaku goes out of his way to awaken hundreds of modern day sorcerers, and then dismisses literally off of them except for Hiromi because they don't have enough potential for him compared to ancient sorcerers. He essentially did the same with the Death Painting Bros, he went through all of the trouble to create them, then dismissed them as not having enough potential BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO GROW UP.

Kenjaku has a habit of just going BORED NOW and leaving before he even gives things the time to impress him. He does the same with the Culling Game, he set up the death game to push sorcerers to fight each other and bring out their powers, but he never actually intended to watch the sorcerers evolve. He just wanted to slaughter everyone inside to start the merger.

He goes through a lot of potential to set up these situations and then abandons them before they have the chance to even evolve, because they do not have enough "potential" in his opinion, but like his opinion is often shown to be wrong. Takaba represents that blindspot because he was one of the modern sorcerers that Kenjaku underestimated and dismissed offhand as boring without giving him a chance to shine.

That is the joke that Takaba introduces himself with "Wouldn't it be funny if a random comic relief side character suddenly defeated the big bad?"

He's immediately pointing out a blindspot, because Kenjaku automatically believes himself to be an important character, he underestimates Takaba because he's a side character, one of the people Kenjaku has dismissed as boring and uninteresting (before they even had a chance to evolve into something else). Like that's the other thing Kenjaku wants things to evolve but he doesn't... let them. He abandoned Choso and the rest before they even grew up, they were literally fetuses and he threw them away. Kenjaku is the protagonist of reality, and Takaba is a side character, and therefore Takaba couldn't possibly harm him because Kenjaku and his boundless curiosity are the center of the world.

It's not just about subverting the audience's expectations to have the main villain die in such an anti-climactic way before the final act even starts, but it's pointing out how narrow Kenjaku's viewpoints really were all along. He wants everything to be surprised but he never lets anything surprise him, because either he gets bored right away, or he looks down on others before giving them the chance to evolve, or the third thing he just straight up has to control everything. He can't let the culling game evolve naturally he's going to slaughter all the players by hand so he can move onto the next part.

It's the contradiction between a schemer who needs to control everything and everyone to bring about his intended result and everything needs to be a part of his big plans, to someone who wants to be surprised by others and have things go off the rails. You can't have both of these things at once, Kenjaku cannot have things surprise him if he rigs everything to go his way with his overly elaborate schemes and his tight-fisted control of everyone in the story.

Like, in comparison to Kenjaku the joker just blows things up and sprays people with laughing gas. They're both playing the same game but the joker is having fun and Kenjaku isn't.

Kenjaku wants an unexpected future, but he doesn't care about any of the modern sorcerers and has a bias towards the heiean era that he considers the height and wants to reset things to bring back the heian era. He wants to be surprised but won't give up control.

Kenjaku's boast is that unlike Tengen he's spent a thousand years living on the ground instead of lording up on them from above like some deity, but is that true? Has Kenjaku lived? Has he engaged with the world? Formed relationships with people? Or does he just sit in the corner rubbing his hands together menacingly and scheming his schemes.

Takaba unironically gives Kenjaku what he wants, something he's never seen before in a thousand years, and it's from a place Kenjaku never expected. Some random guy, who he dismissed as one of the boring modern sorcerers with no potential like Higuruma.

Takaba not only exists in Kenjaku's blindspot, he almost immediately points out Kenjaku's second hypocrisy. If he's willing to resort to mass murder just to feel entertained, then if he found something else to entertain him there'd be no reason to get violent and scheme his schemes.

In other words Kenjaku hasn't really gone looking for other places to try to find what makes life worth living, or at least enertaining, he hasn't really tried any alternatives to finding joy in life because Jujutsu is all he cares about. Takaba says that if he found something else even more entertaining than the merger there'd be no need to go through with the merger, and he turns out to be right. Kenjaku could have found meaning and entertainment with the world someplace else, he was just too narrow minded and never looked anywhere else.

As I said from the beginning Kenjaku's existential crisis comes from his inability to relate to other people and viewing them all as objects, but in Kenjaku's mind of course he can't relate to others they're too boring, so therefore it's the world's fault, and the fault of others and not himself.

However, right away one of those boring people starts relating to Kenjaku.

I joked about how we know nothing about the Gojo clan but Takaba gets an entire backstory chapter about his failed comedy career, but this chapter is plot important because jokes are the way that Takaba relates to and forms relationships with other people. Takaba makes jokes to relate to others but has a fallout with a comedy partner and has never been able to form a lasting relationship with a comedic partner because comedy doesn't mean the same to them as it does to him - because to Takaba comedy is about forming relationships with people. Which is why he thinks he's failed if he's failed to make everyone in the audience laugh because he wants to make comedy that will make other people relate to him and understand him.

However, he almost gives up on comedy because he's afraid that he might fail on that endeavor. He gives up on striving to make everybody in the audience laugh, because of self-affirmation and a desire to protect himself. He didn't want to fail so he started distancing himself from the audience under the excuse "Well, I can't make everyone laugh so it's okay if not everyone understands me."

Takaba at some point gave up on trying to use comedy as a means of understanding and relating to others, because of his fear of failure and at that point he nearly lost - but he rallies himself by saying that he won't give up on making someone like Kenjaku laugh. If his comedy is about connecting to others, about understanding others and having others understand him then he can't just give up on Kenjaku and say it's Kenjaku's fault that Kenjaku can't relate to his sense of humor. He's got to try even harder to make Kenjaku laugh.

This is also pretty much the opposite of Kenjaku's point of view. For Kenjaku it's everyone else's fault for being so boring that's why he can't relate to them. Wheras, Takaba takes personal responsibility, he wasn't funny enough, he has to try harder, he's the one who's going to make Kenjaku laugh by improving himself. Takaba looks inward, and Kenjaku looks outwards because there's nothing inside Kenjaku.

This is a parallel to this.

The difference however, is that Sukuna did not betray his ideology. Sukuna lives for the kicks that battle provides him and wants to face strong opponents so he can eventually devoured them and be momentarily entertained.

Like Sukuna is not bored the way Kenjaku is. The world is his playground. He may refer to living as just killing time until you die, but he also says that there's an infinite variety of humans to entertain yourself with. The world is Sukuna's toybox and he's satisfied with just that. In fact he doesn't even care about the merger, until his frustration with Yuji makes him think a little deeper about himself.

Kenjaku is not the Sukuna in this scene, he's the Gojo. He believed he was above others, only to be reminded suddenly that he was just the same as everyone else and brought back down to humanity. I mean, they even die off panel the same anticlimactic way. Gojo's infinity meant nothing in the face of one surprise attack a world-cleaving slash Gojo didn't see coming. All of Kenjaku's backup plans meant nothing in the face of Yuta camping and kill-stealing.

Kenjaku didn't lose because Yuta's plan of camping and killstealing was simply too brilliant for him to prepare for however, we're given the exact reason kenjaku lost - because he was having too much fun with Takaba.

Which meant what Takaba said earlier was true, if Kenjaku found something funnier, something other than the merger that could make him laugh there'd be no need to go through with the merger to begin with.

Kenjaku loses because all along he could have related to people, formed meaningful relationships with others, looked for meaning in life outside of Jujutsu but just chose not to. Which is also a parallel to this.

Sukuna says that Kashimo and Gojo both lost because they were greedy. They already received love in a way, they had the love of everyone who regarded them as the strongest, they had people who earnestly wanted to challenge them and respected them - which Sukuna sees as a form of love, and yet they still wanted more.

They were the ones who put themselves up on that pedestal and decided to stand above all of humanity, they don't get to whine about being lonely on top of that.

To add my interpretation to Sukuna's speech, what he's outlining is a general conflict in Jujutsu Kaisen, you can choose to be all ego to put personal development above everything else but it comes at the cost of not being able to form relationships. Maki's as powerful as Toji now, but the sister she always wanted to protect is dead and basically committed suicide. Meanwhile Noritoshi Kamo didn't participate in the final battle, but he reconnected with his mother and half-brother.

There are plenty of characters who die and suffer in jujutsu kaisen because they chose to value other people above themselves, because Jujutsu Kaisen rewards selfishness and punishes selflessness / having an underdeveloped sense of self.

I'll pick Mechamaru as my biggest example, he lived to protect Miwa, and not only does he die an unsatisfying death, he also breaks her heart.

However, at least Mechamaru experienced love. His desire to protect Miwa is granted, because Miwa is also out of the final conflict. Mechamaru is one of the most miserable characters in the manga, and yet he experienced love in his life for someone else that made his brief life meaningful. The characters who choose love, and other people over strength tend to get stepped on, but they at least had that love in their life to begin with.

It's a having your cake and eating it too situation. Kashimo chose strength over love, and he got to be so strong he was unbeatable and lived to old age, but not only is he unfulfilled but he whines about being unable to relate to the people around him - you're the one who chose to step on everyone like bugs.

Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen don't just experience death when they try to be selfless however, like yeah there's a disproportionate amont of selfless minor characters who die, but like Yuji is the most selfless character in the manga and he's continually punished for it and yet he's the one referred to as a person with an unbreakable will.

Rather instead of Jujutsu Kiasen preferring the selfish side on the scale of selfishness / selflessness, the kind of messy, deaths that get handed out to people like Mechamaru happen when you betray the ideals you were living for. Whether they were selfish or selfless.

It goes back to Toji's internal monologue. You lose when you lose sight of yourself - like there's some deaths that don't fit the mould but for the most part, Gojo, Kashimo, Toji's and then Kenjaku's deaths all follow this pattern. By coincidence they also all take place offscreen for the most part (I suppose we see Yuta cut off Kenjaku's head but it's quick and unsatisfying compared to all the rest).

Kenjaku died because he betrayed what he was living for and he temporarily lost sight of himself. As I said Kenjaku's airtight principles were that everyone was boring and people weren't worth relating too so the only way to find enertainment in life is to cause chaos - but he found himself relating to some nobody he wrote off as a minor character Takaba and having fun with him. Which meant the belief he was false, he could have tried relating to other people all along he just didn't.

He warped his sense of self to reaffirm his identity. Takaba almost did that too, he tried to blame other people for not finding him funny to protect himself, but he moved past that and redoubled his efforts to make Kenjaku laugh.

There's also the added layer of irony that Kenjaku's sudden death brings about, the person who spent a thousand years trying to make the merger happen doesn't get to see it.

However, here's my assertion on why Kenjaku's death before the merger always had to happen.

Because, even if Kenjaku had seen the merger he still would have been bored.

Literally everything about Kenjaku's character and previous actions shows that even if he made his big scheme come true, he would have gone "meh" and moved onto the next scheme because that's how he always reacts.

He got bored of the death painting siblings, he presumably got bored of Yuji, he got bored of all the ancient sorcerers and new sorcerers he made for the culling game, he worked with the disaster curses and got bored of them and dismissed them as inferior primitive curses, he goes out of the way to engineer these chaotic situations and then never feels any satisfaction from them so why would the Merger be any different?

Not only did Kenjaku die before he saw the merger, he was basically doomed to never see the merger, because it would not have fixed whatever is wrong inside of him.

Because it's not the world that's boring, it's Kenjaku himself.

He gets a brief glimpse of what he could have done in life, that he could have tried to forge connections with the people around him and related to them on a personal level - and then he dies the way he lived, in a kind of boring and unsatisfying way.

It's the narrative punishing him in a way, the same way it punished Gojo, and Kashimo, by not letting him see the big explosion after he went to all the trouble rigging the bombs. It's punishing him for the same reason too - by deviating from his true self and showing what he thought were his reasons were shallow all along. Gojo could have always related to people he just chose to stand on his pedestal alone, and Kenjaku could have always found the world to be more enertaining he was the one dismissing other people as boring without giving them a chance to grow.

Takaba confronted his beliefs and then stayed true to his ideology of making everyone, 100% of the people in the crowd laugh. Kenjaku didn't confront his beliefs, he strayed from them because he didn't have the strength of character to evaluate himself the way Takaba did.

Hence, he's finished off by one of those boring people who used their power in a way he never expected. The main villain is defeated by the comic relief character and it's hilarious.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Guys I just read through the original Avatar way of water and I can't be normal about it and neither can you so lets get into it...

(Apologies for the bad quality btw. I was taking pictures with my phone of my tv.)

For starters Na'vi age faster than humans in the og script!

It says point blank in the script that Spider is 14

And it says this about Neteyam and Lo'ak

They're the equivalent of a 13 and 14 year old not they are 13 and 14. Coupled with the fact that in this version of the script Spider was five during the original war and he's only 14 himself in this script then if my math is mathing it's only been NINE YEARS since the og movie. In human years Neteyam and Lo'ak are 9 and 8 years old! That is crazy!

Speaking of crazy we get some interesting lessons on Na'vi anatomy

They birth chrysalis! Like mammals can be born still in their amniotic sac but a chrysalis?! Like a bug?!

and then..

Like the chrysalis just unfurls after the mother breaks tsalnu. That is so wild.

And then..

Like we already knew Kiri's "father" was eywa but a genetic clone of Grace? and we learn this in the first act of the movie?! Wild.

Also this conversation...

Like I'm shookith why👏🏽was👏🏽 this👏🏽 not👏🏽 in 👏🏽the👏🏽 movie! This seems pretty important not only for the plot i.e where Toruk is but also developing Jake as a character.

Anyway here's some little things that had me gobsmacked for better or worse.

First...

If my jaw was on the floor from the not dad i'm your commander line (after which Spider tells Lo'ak it could have been a lot worse and I'm like how?) then my jaw hit earth's core from Jake completely blaming Neteyam's death on Lo'ak. Like I know he's grieving but good god that's your son! who just watched his brother die! And you don't even know what happened! You just found them like that! Like...COME ON!

Second...

Lo'ak is really mean to Tuk. I didn't screenshot it but also there was a line from when Tuk tagged along at the beginning of the movie and Spider joked "well if she gets eaten it's not our fault." and Lo'ak said "that's what I'm saying" and as a youngest child I took that personally.

I have no commentary this was just really funny

Third

Ao'nung's name was orginally Nu'ung and I find that interesting.

Forth

I gasped. I'd get smacked if I talked to my mom like this. Like they don't seem to have a good relationship in this version because earlier Kiri calls Grace her real mom not her bio mom or even just her other mom. And Kiri also really wanted to know who her real dad is. I'm just glad they changed this angle because adoptive parents are real parents and the actual movie does a good job of showing that.

Fifth

This is right after Kiri's seizure. I think this should have been in the movie. A criticism I've heard about Jake is what a dumb move it was to call for help when Ronal was right there. This shows what a quick panicked decision that actual was and while it's still not smart it is understandable.

Sixth

Neytiri having P.T.S.D

and finally

yeah I think the only reason they cut this is because they knew we'd all be SOBBING to hard to actually pay attention to the end of the movie.

Anyway that's my general thoughts on this and I'd love to know what you think. 💙

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 4 / Next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, OMC Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes), alcohol as a coping mechanism, season 1 Lydia behavior (her comments on addiction are wrong and insensitive and she's knows it) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter. 

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Beacon Hills’ bloody underbelly is making it pretty damn hard for him to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real, and old family secrets rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is: How long will they want to?

Chapter Summary: Your life somehow becomes further entangled with Stiles and Scott's strange secret world, and Lydia is concerned in her own aggressive way. 

A/N: this is in fact a scott mccall stan account. i love that boy like he's my own. you can also check me out on ao3 (dork_knight) for the full lore version!

The drive home was ultimately uneventful. No need for tasers, silver bullets, or wolfsbane goop. You would need to get gas before you left for school in the morning, but you supposed that was a relatively minor inconvenience when the other end of the scale was being torn apart by a fanged monster. 

Your jaw cracked with an aggressive yawn as you slowly stumbled through the garage door, fumbling for the light switch on the wall. You flicked on the light and paused, shivering a little as the cold air from the vent above your head skimmed over your bare arms. After a moment of hesitation, when that little persistent wriggling in your ear wouldn’t go away, you ducked back down the concrete steps to poke around the garbage can. Underneath a few Styrofoam take-out boxes, there were four empty beer bottles. The glass bottles clinked against each other as you nudged them out of the way, unearthing the real object of your paranoia. A drained bottle of 100-proof rye whiskey was cradled between two sacks of trash from the night before. You just stared at the bottles, heart and lungs wound tight, and then you dropped the lid back on top of the can.  

When you reentered the house, you were careful to keep the noise to a minimum. It wasn’t that late, only a little past nine, but you didn’t want to disrupt your dad’s slumber. Usually, he was a night owl—which, of course, was really just a pretty way of saying chronic insomniac, another thing you’d inherited from him—but it’d been a hard liquor night. Your dad always went to bed early on hard liquor nights. You didn’t know if he actually slept or if he stared at the ceiling, watching memories play on spackle until dawn streamed through the cracks in the blinds. Probably the first. You hadn’t ever heard him cry through the thin walls, not even once. You, however, couldn’t ever stop crying, not on the nights you trembled for something potent enough to mask the scent of the coconut oil your mom used to remove her makeup. The echoes of your mother had seeped into the walls, saturated the insulation with the faint sounds of the 70s pop rock vinyls she put on when she was in a good mood. They faded sometimes, but they always came back. You desperately hoped, and you hopelessly feared, that they always would. 

You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hands aggressively and slipped under the covers, still in your plaid skirt and black t-shirt. Mascara smeared against your silk pillowcase, blurred your vision as it melted into your waterline. You stared at the wall until the silver swirls in the teal wallpaper started to sway. The teal was so dark it almost looked velvet with the lights off, and you had a heavy-eyed impulse to stroke it, but your hand was too leadened to lift. 

Your lids slipped shut, and in the haze between consciousness and slumber you felt the vague sensation of something solid against the back of your head. You murmured something incomprehensible and pulled your arms closer to your chest, taking in a breath of sharp whisky and a familiar woody cologne. You kept your eyes closed, and the warm weight cupped your skull for a moment. There was a brief kiss pressed against the top of your head and then the warmth was gone. Something large caught in your throat, and you squeezed your eyelids until your forehead wrinkled, forcing yourself to fall into a restless sleep filled with dreams of pancakes swimming in bourbon and howling beasts. 

Stiles was waiting for you by your locker when you arrived at school the next day. His friend—Scott, you reminded herself—was leaning against the locker next to him. Scott’s eyelids were heavy, and there was a coolness underneath them that stained his tan skin with a swathe of puce. Puce: From the French term ‘couleur puce,’ meaning ‘flea color.’  You dug your incisor into your tongue once you recognized that the intrusive internal narration was in Stiles’s voice. You didn’t even know if he spoke French, but it seemed like the kind of weird detail he’d know. You ran your tongue over your teeth and shoved your fists into your jacket pockets, thumb poking through the hole in the lining from previous twiddling—when the hell did you start thinking about the kinds of things Stiles would and wouldn’t know?  

You pivoted sharply, and your traitorous leather boots ruined your attempted exit when they squeaked against the freshly waxed floor. Stiles’s head popped up from his hushed conversation with Scott, and he waved vigorously when he made eye contact with you, “Hey! C’mere!”

You tipped your gaze towards the tiled ceiling and sighed. It was inevitable, really; you had to get your English binder before homeroom—homeroom, yet another reason to hate Wednesdays. It was one of your few classes with Lydia, and there wasn’t ever any actual teaching to distract you from the disgusting goo-goo eyes she gave her boyfriend. Studying was your only respite.

“Patience,” you nudged Stiles out of the way and spun your combination into the padlock, “work on it. It’s an essential skill.”

Stiles scoffed and leaned his shoulder against the locker next to yours, arms folded over his chest, “Essential. There’s nothing essential about wasting time. It’s actually unvirtuous if you think about it.” 

You swung her locker door open, blocking out Stiles’s frown, and rested your backpack on your knee so that you could unzip it. “Was there a point in there somewhere, or are you stalking me again?”

Stiles ducked around the locker door and placed his hands on Scott’s shoulders, shoving him a little closer to you, “Scott had a question for you.”

Scott’s eyes didn’t look so tired when he reared his head back to stare at Stiles. They had an intense conversation for a moment. There weren’t any words exchanged, but you got the gist: Scott was pissed, and Stiles was relentless. In the end, Scott lost the battle and swallowed thickly, “So, uh, you know a lot about supernatural stuff. That’s cool.” Stiles rolled his eyes and smacked the back of Scott’s head. Scott glared at him before mumbling, “Do you have any more of that wolfsbane…potion?” towards his muddy Converse. 

You directed your annoyance over Scott’s shoulder, more than confident that the real culprit of this request was the idiot avoiding your eye-line. “What? You already burned through your goo sample? Are the streets finally free from the demon beast of Beacon Hills?”

Stiles held up his hands and shook his head, “This is all Scott. See, me, I’m a fan of not being a greedy little bastard, but Scott—” This time Scott smacked Stiles with a resounding thwack. Stiles rubbed his shoulder, mouth agawk with indignation. 

“He…dropped it.” Scott glowered at the side of Stiles’s face, “‘Doing something stupid.” 

You smirked, “Sounds about right.” You shoved your binder into your backpack and brushed your hairs out of your eyes, “I’d give it all away for free, but it’s not up to me. Sorry.” Zipping your backpack shut, you slung one of the straps over your shoulder and shrugged, “You could always buy some more, but I’d strongly advise against such a dumb financial investment.”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck and gave you a smile. It was small but riddled with warmth—like he just couldn’t help it, like sunshine leaked through every one of his pores, and you were filled with the sudden urge to buy the stupid wolfsbane gunk for him. “That’s what I figured,” Scott looked at Stiles pointedly. His voice dropped a few octaves and a growl slipped into the end of his sentence, “But someone thought we should ask anyway.” 

The bell rang, and Scott flinched, smashing one of his ears into his shoulder. He turned around, a little dazed, and Stiles trailed after him after giving her a distracted wave. As you watched them leave, a parasitic impulse wrangled through your throat, prying the hinge of your jaw open as you shouted, “Hey!” The hallway was abuzz with various conversations and clomping feet, but your voice was still a bit too loud for the short distance between you and definitely too urgent for 7:45 in the morning. 

Stiles turned around first, almost tripping over his sneakers, and then he yanked on the scarlet hood of Scott’s jacket until he stopped too. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and licked your bottom lip, suddenly realizing how dry it was. “I, uh,” you sighed and took a few steps forward so that you didn’t have to raise your voice, “I could talk to Maggie. I bet she’d cut you a deal if I asked.” You let out a little laugh and raked your fingers through your hair, accidentally dislodging the satin bow tying your hair out of your face. “I know, actually. I know she’d give you some for free. She’s a terrible business woman.” 

Scott’s smile put the moon to shame, and Stiles looked like he’d been waiting for you to change your mind since the moment you told them no—when the hell did he start thinking about what you would and wouldn’t do? 

“That would be awesome,” Scott ducked down to grab your black ribbon and held it out to you with an open palm, “thank you. I’d owe you big time.”

Stiles looped his arm around Scott’s shoulders and smirked, “We’d. We’d owe you. I’ll stop by the store and bless you with my scintillating conversation sometime.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled softly at Scott, taking your ribbon from his hand. You attempted to tie your hair back in a neat bow, but it was difficult without a mirror. You assumed it was halfway decent because Stiles didn’t take the opportunity to tease you—you, on the other hand, had no such qualms about mocking him. You smiled at Stiles, far too sweetly to be considered congenial, and sneered, “Seriously. Don’t worry about it.” 

Stiles’s eyes narrowed, face curved around a smirk that screamed trouble, and Scott slapped his hand over Stiles’s mouth before he could say something to make you reconsider, “Thanks again. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to pay you back. Name it, and we’re there.” Stiles winked at you with a glint in his eye that was as vexing as it was bright, and Scott rolled his eyes as he hauled him away by the nylon material of his backpack, “C’mon, dude. My mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.”

You watched Stiles’s buzzed head bob amidst the congested crowd of students, all shoving each other in their rush to get to class on time, until you couldn’t hear his surly complaints anymore. You rubbed your hand over your chapped lips, swallowing hollowly, like you could erase every impulsive word that’d spilt from your stupid mouth.

You were still thinking about what you’d gotten yourself into when you walked into Mrs. Farias’s classroom—and that must be why you forgot your copy of Metamorphosis in your locker. You groaned internally and dropped your forehead against your desk, bumping it against the cool laminate finish a few times, before ducking out the door with a hall pass. 

The halls were empty—silent too. You could hear your own footsteps and the tick of the large clock above the main office as you walked around the corner, and then, just as you approached the hallway your locker was in, you heard something else. Voices. Angry voices. One familiar—your face scrunched as the recognition wriggled through your ears to your brain—and one not. You cautiously glanced around the corner and frowned. Jackson, Lydia’s arrogant prick of a boyfriend, was talking to a hulking, leather-clad stranger—or rather infuriating him based on the murderous look in the man’s dark eyes. 

The stranger looked a good five years too old to be in a high school hallway, but the grown-out stubble and over-defined muscles weren’t of immediate concern. You were more focused on the color of his face. His skin was pale, clammy, and quite honestly a little corpse-like thanks to the purply-blue tinge carving out the hollows of his face. You assumed that he was too strung-out to care if anyone noticed their altercation because you could hear him from halfway across the hall. 

“Where’s Scott McCall?” His voice was deep and gravelly, as expected, but there was a desperate undertone you hadn’t anticipated.

You could only see the back of Jackson’s head, but you knew exactly what his face was doing when he puffed out his chest and folded his arms—no one else could make a smirk look quite so punchable. It was a gift, truly. “And why should I tell you?” “Because I asked you politely,” the man leaned forward, bared his canines, and you couldn’t believe that Jackson didn’t even flinch, “and I only do that once.”

“Okay, tough guy,” Jackson sneered, meeting the man’s challenge with another step forward and a shrug that reeked of false-superiority, “how ‘bout I help you find him if you tell me what you’re selling him. What is it? Dianabol? HGH?”

“Steroids,” the man’s voice was dry, and if he didn’t look like he was about to double over and puke all over the floor, you’d say the menacing glimmer in his eyes was a little amused. 

“No, Girl Scout cookies. What the hell do you think I’m talking about?” Jackson tutted, maddeningly haughty, and shook his head, “By the way, whatever it is you’re selling, I’d stop sampling the merchandise.” He let out a low patronizing whistle, and you kind of hoped that the stranger would suckerpunch him in the throat for it. “You look wrecked.”

The man didn’t punch him. Instead, he pushed himself off of the locker he was slumped against and started staggering stiffly down the hall, “I’ll find him myself.”

Jackson grabbed onto his broad shoulder and yanked. The veins in his bicep bulged with the strength of grasp, “We’re not done here.”

Your limbs suddenly remembered how to function. You ducked back behind the brick wall and closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable sounds of bone colliding into flesh. Your right eye cracked open a sliver when the noise never came. Instead, there was a loud thud and the echo of clanging metal. You peeked around the corner again and froze, eyes wide and throat dry. Jackson was pinned against a locker by his neck. You’d already noticed that the stranger was tall, but you didn’t truly realize just how large he was until now. Jackson was a lot of things, but he wasn’t small. He was captain of the lacrosse team—everyone within a ten-mile radius knew that thanks to his constant reminders—and if anyone on campus was taking steroids, he would’ve been your first guess. But next to this sickly beast of a man, Jackson looked meek and mousey, and you didn’t even get to savor it. After a brief moment, no more than a second, Jackson’s assailant sniffed the air and slowly turned his head in your direction. It wasn’t an accident; he wasn’t surveying his surroundings. His eyes landed on yours, and he didn’t look the least bit surprised. 

The man’s irises were dark, nearly black, and they didn’t stray from your face. You forgot how to breathe, feeling distinctly like a rabbit trapped in a fox den as your heartbeat hammered against your ribs. He spared you after a few seconds of paralyzing eye-contact and turned his petrifying gaze back to Jackson’s neck. You recoiled, slipping back to your spot around the wall, and pressed your back against the bricks until the sound of your heartbeat wasn’t so loud in your ears. 

When you found the courage to look down the hall again, the man was gone, and Jackson was bleeding from the back of his neck. There were four distinct punctures along his cervical spine, trickling crimson droplets onto the stark white collar of his polo. The gouges were small, almost like…nail marks. Baffling. This town was fuckin’ baffling.

You poured over the incident all day, barely conscious enough to take down notes and roll your eyes at Stiles’s badgering and bad jokes. You’d never been more ready for the final bell to ring, not even during sex education with the extraordinarily sweaty Mr. Peterson. 

You twisted your pendant around its onyx chain as you walked out of your last period, winding and unwinding the charm over and over again as you mulled over your thoughts. Scott didn’t seem like he was on drugs. You didn’t exactly know him, but he was the least aggressive person you’d ever met, and he had to be eternally patient if Stiles was his best friend. You spun the medallion again and shouldered your way through the cramped halls to the parking lot, scolding yourself. What Scott McCall did or did not inject into his bloodstream wasn’t any of your business…even if his alleged dealer looked like he was on death’s door and had a habit of throwing teenage boys around when he got mad. 

You’d just convinced yourself that you didn’t care what happened to Stiles’s best friend when a discord of honking stopped you in your tracks. You flitted your gaze around the parking lot, searching for the cause of obnoxiously loud cacophony; your shoulders wilted along with your resolve when you spotted the guilty party. The man from the hallway was sprawled on the asphalt, and Scott and Stiles were scrambling to help him off of the ground. 

Your feet reluctantly trudged towards the peculiar trio, arms tightly folded over your cropped sweater. You would’ve laughed at how wide Stiles’s eye stretched when he finally noticed your presence, but you were a little preoccupied with the fact that he was currently trying to stuff a ghoulish grown man into his front seat. You watched him struggle to hold up approximately 200 pounds of solid muscle with his spindly arms, absentmindedly lamenting that you couldn’t truly appreciate the humor of the situation. “Hey,” you slanted your head and searched Stiles’s face for any sign of an SOS signal, “you good?”

“Ayup,” Stiles nodded emphatically, and Scott shot you a weak thumbs-up from his squat next to his tipped-over bike. 

You looked between the two of them, waiting for the truth to crack through the awkward pretense, and narrowed your eyes, “You sure?” 

“We’re good,” the man barked from inside the jeep, teeth bared. It was a little less intimidating now that he was slumped over and at the mercy of a sixteen-year-old with a dork complex, but you still flinched. You couldn’t help it. It was a small twitch, but Scott still managed to track the minute movement from his low perch. He glared at the man, shockingly firm for such a sweet-faced boy, until the stranger stopped scowling at you. Mr. Sour Face turned his head towards the window and stared intensely at the hazy tree line over the hill. Your fingers relaxed. You hadn’t even realized that you’d dug your nails in your palms until the stinging stopped. 

Scott jumped to his feet and pulled his bike up by the handles, rushing through his weak explanation, “Stiles is just…doing me a favor. Derek needs a ride, and all I’ve got is my bike.”

Letting out a flimsy snort, your brow pinched, “So…he walked here?”

“Uh,” Scott squinted, and Stiles nodded behind him, “yeah?” 

You pursed your lips, ignoring all the students who’d started shouting over the beeping horns, and watched Derek grit his teeth and clench his fists through the dashboard window. You looked back at Stiles and chewed on your lip. Stiles was taller than you, but he was on the scrawnier side of lean and wouldn’t stand a chance against a man of Derek’s size—even if he was barely clinging to the rapidly fraying threads of consciousness. “I could use a ride to work,” you pulled the backseat door open before you could talk yourself out of it. 

Stiles lurched towards you and slammed the door shut, narrowly avoiding your fingers, “Normally, I would seize any opportunity to have you further indebted to me, but—that’s Lydia Martin.” His eyes bulged out of his head, and he leaned against his jeep, slipping down the blue frame as his legs went boneless, “Walking towards me. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

The prospect of riding in the same car with Mr. Resting Bitchface was being more appealing by the second. Lydia didn’t even look in Stiles’s direction. Her cutting green eyes were fixed on you and you alone. “Are you an idiot?” Lydia snatched your wrist, mauve manicure digging into the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist, and yanked you back to the sidewalk.

“What?” you went brainless for a moment, taking in all the glory of an enraged Lydia Martin. 

Lydia’s cheeks were flushed pink from anger and adrenaline, “Or just suicidal?”

The shock had worn off. Now, you were thoroughly pissed, “What?”

Lydia’s eyebrows, perfectly tapered and freshly threaded, knitted together until she was in danger of developing a unibrow, “Do you have any idea who you were about to get in a car with?”

Your eyes flicked to the side, and it took gargantuan strength not to roll them too. “Stiles?”

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Lydia’s riptide of fury gave way to confusion, but her soft features sharpened abruptly when she returned her attention to your scowl, “I meant Derek Hale. Obviously.”

Your hip cocked to the side as you crossed your arms, “And?”

“And he’s a murder suspect,” Lydia’s lips curled into a vehement sneer. It was so strange to finally see it first-hand. Lydia had such a sweet face, cherub cheeks and doe eyes—a clever smile. She hadn’t quite mastered disdain when you were friends; the ice queen routine wasn’t performance ready until you’d drifted apart. It was an awful face, you decided; it completely erased the last few pieces of the Lydia you knew.

“In an animal attack,” you muttered under your breath. 

Evidently, it had been a long time since someone dared to disagree with the Lydia Martin because she was struck speechless. It didn’t last for long, but it was still satisfying. “He’s dangerous,” Lydia hissed. “He went completely off the deep end after his family died. Seriously, his life is like a textbook precursor to violent behavior; he’s a profiler’s wet dream.”

“Because his family died,” you repeated. The numbness eroded some of the snark in your voice. 

Lydia either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the glaze creeping over your eyes. She continued, barbarous and unashamed, “Because he watched them turn into charcoal, and his sister was just ripped in half. At best, he’s unstable—but his little hobby of trolling for minors is a bit of a red flag, don’t you think?”

“Charcoal,” you spoke—more of an echo really with its resonating hollowness. Your eyes were on Lydia’s face, but your mind was somewhere far away. A lifetime ago, with the ashes of everything you once knew. 

Lydia’s eyes went wide, and her mouth gaped into a perfect little ‘o.’ Her dainty fingers twitched by her sides, and then she smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in her flouncy mini-skirt. “Most of his family died in a fire,” her voice was much softer this time, a bit of tenderness accidentally rooting through the cracks in her veneer. Lydia looked away and gripped the thin strap of her handbag, “Accidental house fire. It was all over the news like five years ago.”

You stared at Lydia, and for the first time in the last four years, you didn’t miss her. For the first time in such a mind-numbingly long time, your anger strangled your heartache with a wrought-iron grip that felt a whole lot like hate. It was always going to be like this, you realized. You would just have to walk around with all these what-ifs, if-onlys, and what-really-happeneds needling your heart with every thud—always. You had to learn to live with this: knowing that Lydia was never going to apologize and that there would be no closure. Ever. 

“Right.” You laughed, shark-like, with your canines on display. You hoped it would make all your constants sharper. “So he’s gotta be a lunatic now.”

“Y/N…” It was surreal to hear your name out of Lydia’s mouth after so long. You didn’t know if you liked it, and, currently, you didn’t even know if you cared. Lydia chewed off what was left of her nude lipstick and then squared her shoulders, “So we’re just going to pretend that he wasn’t completely strung-out and totally embracing the heroin-chic aesthetic?”

You slanted your head a bit and then let out another serrated laugh. There wasn’t any point in having it out, you decided, because Lydia didn’t care. She got to move on and erase your entire existence—live her perfect, popular girl life without all this suffocating quicksand binding her to the past. Must be nice, you thought venomously, souring your tongue, stinging your eyes. Showers were probably just showers for Lydia. She didn’t singe her skin until the water went cold, imagining what she’d do, what she’d say—how she’d hurt her back. Must be so fucking nice.

“Lydia, I really don’t think you really want to get into all the things we’re pretending,” your voice was tight, strangled at the ends. You would not cry. You could not cry. Lydia sensed weakness like blood in the water, and you refused to give her the satisfaction. 

“Fine,” Lydia’s curls spilled down her back like strawberry wine as she pivoted in her designer heels, “ride off into the sunset with a 'roid-raging creep. Don’t act surprised when you turn up dead in a crack den.” 

Truthfully, Lydia had a point, but at this moment being contrary seemed far more important than being right. “It’s kind of difficult to act like anything when you’re dead,” you called, eyes zeroed-in on the back of her head as she slid into Jackson’s Porsche with a sensual grace you would never possess. Lydia was too far away to hear your retort, but you felt a little less like punching something after you said it. 

You didn’t notice that Stiles and Scott were gone until the threat of bitter tears stopped burning your sinuses. The last thing you needed was to cry like this upset you, even if the only nearby witness left on the vacant sidewalk was yourself. You scoured the parking lot for even a flash of powder blue, but the jeep was nowhere to be seen. Probably long gone by now—your spat with Lydia must have taken longer than you thought. It was certainly louder than you meant it to be. Little clusters of ambling students were looking at you a little too long to be casual, and the indiscreet whispering once they turned back to their friends forced your legs forward. 

You didn’t know where you were going when you started your car, but far, far away sounded pretty damn good.

[fast-moon]

I'm 30 years late, but...

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine originally aired when I was 10 years old. I loved Next Generation when I was a kid, so I gave DS9 a try back then... and immediately grew bored of it. They weren't going to new planets or having space battles, they were just sitting around in one place discussing space politics, and there wasn't even anyone funny like Data to hold my attention. So, I stopped watching after a couple episodes.

But, since I keep hearing it ended up being the best Trek seres, I've decided to go ahead and give it a full watch-through. Maybe now that I'm 40 and have more life experience under my belt, I can appreciate it more.

Turns out I do! I've finished the first season, so I'll give a run-down of what I thought of the S1 episodes below the cut:

1-2. Emissary: All right, I actually understand the premise this time which completely went over my head as a kid. The Bajorans were under Cardassian occupation for decades, the Federation showed up and drove them out, now the Federation is in control of the Cardassian space station DS9 to help the Bajorans rebuild and return to self-governance. But wait! Turns out there's a wormhole that goes to the other side of the galaxy here and it's suddenly become prime space real-estate! And the wormhole is inhabited by... mysterious non-temporal entities that spit out a magic orbs from time to time and the Bajorans worship them as prophets.

3. Past Prologue: Garak is queer-coded like whoa and gives Bashir a taste of his own medicine about not respecting boundaries. Is also possibly like a quadruple-agent. And tailors a fine suit. Also, Kira got a haircut. There's rats on spaceships?! Oh, that's just Odo. Okay. Still, the fact that he considered that a convincing disguise means there's rats on spaceships?!

4. A Man Alone: A guy backstabs himself and blames Odo for it.

5. Babel: Poor overworked O'Brien gets so stressed out he starts speaking in tongues. Then it turns out it's contagious. And it turns out that it's because someone sabotaged the station decades ago with a dyslexia virus and then just kind of forgot about it.

6. Captive Pursuit: This actually touches on a moral question I'd been wondering about if we ever end up with sentient AI: If something is bred/programmed to like being oppressed, is it more moral to remove it from its oppression even if that makes it miserable, or to return it to its oppression if that's what makes it happy? This episode chose the latter.

7. Q-Less: A surprisingly boring Q-centric episode whose only shenanigans involved a space stingray Vash was trying to sell off. Q really does miss Picard.

8. Dax: Oh, another philosophical thought-experiment: If you committed a crime and then get reincarnated in a traceable manner and retain all the memories of your previous incarnation, can your current incarnation be held liable for your previous incarnation's actions? This episode decides it doesn't want to answer this because she's not guilty, anyway.

9. The Passenger: Bashir becomes even more insufferable and nobody notices.

10. Move Along Home: Samurai hippies come through the wormhole and demand everyone LARP with them whether they like it or not.

11. The Nagus: Quark falls victim to one of the classic blunders, the most famous of which is "Never get involved in a land war with Asia". But only slightly less well-known is this: "Never get involved with a Ferengi when profit is on the line".

12. Vortex: So... Odo just lets a guy get away with murder because he has a sob story and claimed he knew others of his kind? Just because he was wanted unjustly on his home planet does not change the fact that he murdered a guy for hire. Also, Odo can get knocked out by a rock?

13. Battle Lines: Remember that "Great Divide" episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender that everyone hated? No reason.

14. The Storyteller: O'Brien goes down to Bajor to fix the pipes, becomes God.

15. Progress: Kira has to go convince a Boomer to leave his land because they need the resources to rebuild the planet, but he's all "I got mine, screw them." She humors his sexist behavior all episode, then burns his house down.

16. If Wishes Were Horses: Bashir wishes for his own personal side-piece Dax, and real Dax is weirdly okay with this because "boys will be boys". The conflict in this episode is literally solved by thinking happy thoughts.

17. The Forsaken: Odo gets sexually harassed so reports it to HR who just laughs him off because they think it would be good for him to get laid. Then he gets stuck in an elevator with his stalker and it's revealed just how physically strenuous it is for him to maintain his human form all day, and yet he has never been afforded any accommodations beyond a bucket to sleep in. This poor space slime, no wonder he's always so grumpy. #JusticeForOdo

18. Dramatis Personae: TNG's "The Inner Light", but stupid. Once again Odo has to save the day because he's immune to the humanoid crazypox that seems to infect the station every half-dozen episodes, and yet they still just can't find it in their effects budget to adjust station operations enough to allow him the minimal comfort of not having to contort himself into human form every day until he collapses just to do his job.

19. Duet: I am a sucker for "Did the janitors on the Death Star deserve to die?" sorts of moral discussions, and this episode delivered that very well. Also, I'm in lesbians with Kira.

20. In the Hands of the Prophets: Lady who doesn't even have kids at the school nevertheless takes issue that the children aren't being taught in accordance to her religious beliefs. It's been 30 years since this came out and nothing changes.

All in all, a decent season 1. It does show its age in places, especially in its treatment of female characters, and being written before the internet and smartphones caused seismic cultural shifts that its vision of the future failed to take into account. But still, I'm liking it now that I actually understand what's going on. On to season 2!

[fluffypotatey]

Honestly, LMK turns the plot on its head so often that I've never voiced this due to the Macaque hate club, but legit. What if Wukong killed Macky trying to save him because as we've seen with MK, he can use that amount of force, that same line, trying to keep someone from certain doom, so why not an out of control monkey with hijacked powers? Macky just. doesn't remember. but that might even be plot relevant since Wukong also doesn't remember things, supposedly. *stares at Nine.* He might've never done anything to Tripitaka and friends, I mean, current Macky has never even SAID anything about hating those guys, heck. He out right SAYS the Monk was good for Wukong and he was allegedly killed AFTER the journey, even if the friendship ties between them never ended afterwards, I honestly struggle to see Macky even being angry enough to want to "save" Wukong as he never did before to just.....be so crazy about it to the point Wukong needs to kill him over it. He'd stand down, he WOULD listen to reason, right? Unless if something else was going on? There'd have to be some other trigger for him to just go off like that, as for all these memories. I bet the "he" Nines was talking about could have been the Demon King of Confusion. You can really make up some fun new powers there, the guy's the first villain ever in JTTW, it's kind of poetic, and also. "Demon KING." Sure, good foe for the Monkey King. They can give him the LBD treatment in raising the prestige.

What if Wukong killed Macky trying to save him[…]?

this has, honestly, been my own theory for what went down since i started lmk. like i knew they would be vague about Wukong and Mackoach’s circumstance because, you know, Wukong did a murder in jttw and this is a kid show intended for an audience of 8-10 year olds. and that kind of topic is a doozy to do right in media (Western media especially).

anyway, by s3, i was under the impression that Macky assumed Wukong killed him final blow style, but Wukong actually left him incapacitated enough for him to admit defeat (and maybe, possibly leaving him for dead, oblivious to the fact that Mac might be too weak to use his shadow powers) because of how much lmk utilizes unreliable narratives. but then, watching Wukong’s and MK’s fight really solidified that original theory of mine. when Mackintosh frees Wukong from his memories in 5x07 (also jfc Wukong literally spent a whole season trapped in his memories and has to do it all over again, my poor babygirl ;-; he’s exhausted!!!!) Wukong looks horrified.

STOP MAKING HIM RELIVE HIS PAST HE ISNT OVER IT AT ALL AND HOLDS TO MUCH GUILT AND REGRET (pls continue!!!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏 put him through the ringer!!!!! make him snap por favor 🥺🥺🥺🥺)

ahem. AnYwAY!

clearly, that fight is considered one of Wukong’s deepest and darkest memories (which were what the 100-eyed Demon was looking for. because he likes the good tea like me frfr) and doesn’t like looking back at. in a way, it makes sense with how much distance he placed between himself and Macody in 1x09 (almost….indifferent one might say 👀 or trying to act apathetic about it which comes off annoyed…..ain’t that interesting?)

but yeah. good food for thought :3

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

Chapter Two: Meet the Stars

TDI! Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader

Duncan and you had been separated for around three hours now, you had both on seperate boats and you were aleady getting twitchy. You both had brought a total of four things from juvie, as well as two confiscated items of yours. Duncan had bought his switchblade, a handheld pistol, a bracelet, his meds, a picture of his mom, as well as a small heart locket that held a picture of you when you were around nine.

You had bought a handheld pistol, a dagger with your initials on it, a locket that had a picture of Duncan in it, a picture of seven year old Duncan and you, a deck of cards, and lastly a lighter.

The older boy had been furious when Chris informed you that neither of you would be on your meds for this little 'expedition.' and by furious I mean, had quickly shoved Chris into a wall holding a knife to his throat. "I can deal without my shit. But unless you want a fucking wild animal released she get's her shit at least once a week got that, asshat?" Duncan hissed. Chris's eyes flickered towards you, as you took a selfie of the two while doing a piece symbol with a large smile.

You were crazy.

He loved crazy.

Crazy made money.

Chris didn't want you on your meds. His exact words were that you were "So much more fun without them!" he didn't seem to mind the fact that Duncan had shortly thereafter had shoved him into a wall and put his forearm to his neck. "She's going to get her meds, at least once a week, every friday, got that?" he had whispered. "You know what that's a great idea. She'll have this strange contradicting personality, people will think she's crazy!"

Chris truly, loved an insane idea.

You had leveled the gun at his head in record time, your phone gone in a flash. "Don't, call me crazy." Your voice was shaky.

"If you say so scorpion. Let's get a move on!" Chris smiled patting your shoulder as he quickly got guards to seperate you and Duncan both. Now you were on a boat on your way to an island which sure looked nice from the picures.

The medicine you took kept you steady, kept you from losing your cool on everyone around you. It kept you sedated, calm, cool, and collected. Without you turned into an injured animal that had just been cornered.

Wild, rabid, and feral.

So that was the deal, you would get your meds every friday because then you'd have a confusing contradicting personality which would get viewers intrigued and therefore more money!

The weekend after Chris had picked you up, he had seven armed guards seperate you and Duncan and put you on two different boats. Duncan had yelled for a long time and eventually got three of his guards down. You had broken the finger of a guard that had grabbed your shoulder and had broken the shin of one of the others.

You were staring at your hands by the time you felt the boat hit the dock slowly. They were already shaky. Your eyes flickered upwards and your stomach was quickly full of dread. It was a dump, the island, was an actual god forsaken waste of space. You jumped off the boat not bothering to find the ladder.

"Here she is, Y/N our resident scorpion." The insane TV show host yelled from his post on the dock. Your eyes flickered quickly around the island, at least what you could see. A pit formed itself in your stomach. "This was not what we were told, Mclean. I don't like being lied too." You nearly screeched at him, you were seething with anger.

"Oh I know princess. Your parole officer told me about that. She also told me to tase you and bring you back if you started making a fuss." The psychotic man smiled at you. Duncan watched you wearily from his spot on the dock and noticed your stance.

Hands clenched, body tense, eyebrows furrowed, eyes slitted, jaw set. Yes, all the looks of a L/N, ready to pounce.

Suddenly before you could jump there was arms around your shoulders and hands around your waist. "Scorpion, you better put that tail of yours down. I'm too pretty to die!" Chris giggled as Duncan dragged you away.

He grabbed your waist right before you could jump at the TV host. "Hey, ain't worth it, Y/N. We both know it." He hissed in your ear and gently threw you into the group of people. You sighed your body untensing and your fingers found his.

You stared at the people around you. A pretty blonde with a surfboard, a goth-chick who was fine as hell, a girl who clearly looked like she got everything she wanted, a girl with brown hair that seemed nice enough, a buff girl in a blue outfit, a girl with a shit ton of additude, a set of girls you would've thought were twins, a dude everyone thought was fine (you didn't see it), a tall chubby blonde boy, a nerdy looking redhead, a kid who was clearly homeschooled, a short boy who was looking at the goth chick with a huge smile, a dude who clearly played the guitar, a sporty dude, a blonde muscle-boy with a hat, and lastly a goody-two-shoes who was cute.

Suddenly you heard a loud yell and saw a flash of redhair hit the dock. Courtney ran to grab the girl out of the water. "She could be seriously injured guys." She scolded your group.

"If she thinks a concussion is a serious injury you've never actually been hurt have you?" Duncan laughed and honestly you had to resist the urge to giggle as well.

A chance of 100,000 dollars, and the ability to fuck around with some assholes?

This is going to be the best couple weeks ever.

[bokettochild]

Hey! I ahev some rambled about the opera house au and just things with the chain in general.

First.

Hwo do you think legend would react to having to play a lead character for the opeing of the show and the main character he played love interest was one if the dives? Like maybe lullaby started panicking because dusk dropped out on opening night and she got sick and lullaby panicked and told legend he would play the lead daisy Buchanan (i'm just using the great gatsby musical characters bc i'm in love with it right now) and one of the dives played jay gatsby and he had to kiss them and sing powerful songs?

Second.

I don't know if it is Canon but in the linked Universe, legend is times descendent or direct successor. How do you think tike would react to finding out he had one more descendent under his nose and it's the veteran who is prickly and cold nothing like twilight his descendent or wind I think wind is his successor who is goofy ans child like but also put. Off even though in recent update we saw legend is an aboustle gremlin...well live that though.

Third

Do you think legend would ever yell at twilight? Like maybe legend is having a bad day snd twilight says somting like "time left the master sword in perfect condition I didn't have to save Mt world until I was 17" and so on just really boasting about it to legend maybe because legendhad been mean or snsrky to wild and twilightwas trying tk get back for wild. Snd legend snaps "yeah really?! Good for you well time didn't leave the master sword in good condition for me! When I found the master sword it rusted beyond belief I had to build it back up with my own 9 (or who ever years old legend was) old hands with times blood on it because time died! Well fighting ganon making my world fall apart leaving a nine year old to save it!" Had legend just yells at twilight dumping all of his trauma on twilight even bring marin into to mix, and the whole chain stands there watching their veteran yell at the ranch hand with tears streaming down his face. Well time feels horrible for birnf inccont legend into the cruel world of being a hero, and giving him that trauma.

Alright bye enjoy your day and be safe!

Legend can and has filled in for leading roles before, but he's also been cast in them! His major starring role is actually one of his more iconic (there's nothing more iconic than that, fight me) and does feature a bit of a "love story" between himself and the character that Warriors plays. Granted, Legend's character is faking the whole thing, but it's still a lot of flirting on stage. They both know how to be professional about it and behave themselves though, and anything like kissing is usually faked for the sake of the actors (when and if they can, there's no actual contact made, as long as they can make it look like there is. He's also ended up having to play a love interest (unrequited, but still) for Wild's character! They had a good laugh about it honestly and yeah, there was a moment there where people had questions, but it just turns out Legend's a good actor and very convincing :)

Honestly, I think Time would be sort of shocked to find out that Legend is also his successor, but also sort of horrified. I mean, Legend comes from a world where Time not only died, but also failed in his duties as a hero, leaving them to fall on the shoulders of another child instead. Granted, that's not his fault, but if you look at their timeline talk and all, you can't deny Time wouldn't blame himself at least a small amount. Would that guilt make it harder for him to be around Legend? Would he treat him differently, knowing that Legend might never have become a hero if Time hadn't fallen? I think he would. I think the guilt would eat at him, because while he does know there will always be heroes who rise to face evil, the fact that Legend had to rise specifically to clean up after him would devastate him. All the more so because Legend's the guy who's done the most out of all of them and is the only one to repeatedly have to fight Ganon, because the pig gained immortality as (again) a result of the Hero of Time falling.

I don't know that Legend would trauma dump on any of his brothers intentionally. he's very guarded, an people like that tend to not be super eager to drop truth bombs that big in a moment flat. Over time though? Sure! Someone makes a comment about the Master Sword and Legend ends up revealing that he had to reforge his before it was actually fit for use, because it was left in ruin. Something else later lets them learn that it still had Time's blood on it when it was left in the forest, and that Legend, while reforging the blade, had to clean the blood-rust away, smelling the blood of his predecessor as he worked. Maybe this or that comes up and they slowly start getting the puzzle pieces of the vet's life; nothing seems to fit together one way or another, and they're not sure how much is true because there's so many things, how could this much happen to one person? But then they realize how many adventures there have been, and how long it took, and when the final nail in the coffin comes with a tired "I was eight", it really hits them all. Legend wouldn't dump it all at once, but I think his brothers are smart enough to put together what he does say to find out the truth, and I think it would devastate them. Twilight would absolutely feel guilty about having it "so easy" in comparison (no such thing, they all suffered, but hey, they all think their pain is lesser than the rest) but I think Legend would shut that down in a heartbeat, if he knew. Now, if Legend inhibitions were lowered in some way and someone set him off? We might get it all at once, with the drama you described. Legend would have to be pretty out of it to be so honest about his past, but hey! Whatever works to make fissures and pain, no?

[murasakiyugata]

Okay, so there's still a lot of Phoenix Wright content I've yet to see, so maybe I'm not getting the full picture here, but does anyone else think that the way Phoenix views Edgeworth and conducts himself in regards to Edgeworth can at times be rather...unhealthy?

Like, I've been watching a playthrough of the first game and he refuses to believe that Edgeworth - at nine-years-old - could have even accidentally caused his father to be shot. Like, why should he consider that outside the realm of possibility? People make mistakes. But I feel like Phoenix, at least at times, doesn't really see Edgeworth as a person. He sees him as this idealized version of what he thinks that Edgeworth should be.

This is reflected in the lack of sympathy Phoenix shows for Edgeworth's PTSD in a later game where Edgeworth runs off during an earthquake. Phoenix essentially doesn't seem to understand why Edgeworth isn't over something that happened so long ago and thinks to himself that Edgeworth is stronger than this and needs to stop pitying himself. Which is...just a horrible thing to think about someone who's been through what Edgeworth has been through. That's not the kind of thing someone should be expected to just get over. Maybe Phoenix just doesn't understand trauma in general, but I wouldn't be surprised if he thinks that Edgeworth especially should somehow be "above" it, because of his idealized view of the guy. Which sucks for Edgeworth, because it means someone he's actually willing to open up to doesn't want to see that vulnerability.

I feel like Phoenix has been building up this unrealistic view of Edgeworth ever since his childhood. He was probably star-struck when Edgeworth stood up for him in class, he probably adored having him as a friend, and when Edgeworth suddenly transferred, the distance let Phoenix build him up even more in his mind. So much so that when he read the claims that Edgeworth had gone to the dark side, he shifted his entire path in life for the chance to talk to him again and find out what happened.

To Phoenix's credit, his dedication to Edgeworth saves Edgeworth in more ways than one. He has unquestionably been an incredibly positive force in Edgeworth's life, and I don't want to ignore than fact. I should also note that I'm not by any means up-to-date on all the lore between these two, so for all I know maybe over the years Phoenix has started to see Edgeworth as less of an idol and more of a human. Which I think is important if they ever finally...you know.

[ecargmura]

Pokemon Horizons Episode 55 Review - Friendly Matches With The Elites

It’s nice that the story takes a break in order to have a fun little match with the Elite Four members. While the fights were fun to watch, what worries me the most is that the matches will be used for power scaling debates. Please take those debates out of here and just watch the kids battle Elite Four trainers for the fun of it! Pokemon is all about fun, after all! These matches do not determine which Elite Four is the strongest or weakest or which of the three kids are the strongest. It’s just a test for students to see how well they have progressed and how well they can terastalize. There is a set of rules with these battles: The students must pair up with the Gym Leader they took the test with and only the student can terastalize. The match ends when one of the Elite Four’s Pokemon is knocked out or when the student’s Pokemon is knocked out. I like that the rules are strict because it handicaps both the Gym Leader and the Elite Four member and gives the student the spotlight because they’re the most inexperienced.

Four matches were shown in this episode. To be honest, I thought that the pacing would be a bit messy, but it’s not as bad as I assumed. The main highlights are Dot and Roy’s matches, so Coral and Sidian’s matches are trimmed down heavily.  For Dot’s match, she’s paired up with Iono and they’re matched against Poppy who uses Tinkaton and Copperajah. Dot uses Quaxly and Iono uses Bellibolt. For a nine-year-old, Poppy actually shows why she’s an Elite Four member as she’s very strategic in her battles. She uses Sandstorm mechanics and she even commands her Tinaktink to use Brick Break to break Bellibolt’s Reflect. I think that’s the first time its secondary effect is shown? Speaking of battle effects, I loved the little detail where Quaxly gets shocked by Discharge because it’s a move that affects the ally too The battle was very exciting, but eventually, Copperajah gets knocked out by Bellibolt, securing a win for Dot. I do like that Dot is actually frustrated with her win because it’s in-character for her. She wanted to win with her own merits, but Poppy tells her to cheer up.

The match with Roy and Brassius against Hassel was also fun to watch! While the previous match with Dot was a match full of strategy, Roy’s match was one full of creativity. I do like that Roy and Brassius teamed up to create moves that can be used in a contest battle. However, I did expect Roy to lose; it’s not because of the fact that he was the only one of the three who won his Terestal Course battle, but it’s because Baxcalibur got so many power-ups due to its ability that a win for Hassel was already guaranteed. Seeing the two struggle against him reminded me of when I was battling him in the game; I struggled hard with him too—that Baxcalibur is terrifying. Despite losing, Roy is happy. He learns that battling is all about teamwork and that he needs the help of others to get things done. I love that the mindset between Roy and Dot differs in these matches. I love the part where Hassel bursts into tears and is comforted by his Pokemon; seeing Baxcalibur hugging him was the cutest thing ever!

The Explorers duo get their matches too, but it’s trimmed down a lot. Coral actually loses her match when she uses her infamous Self-Destruct tactic to not only knock out her own Glalie, but her partner Kofu’s Wugtrio and Larry’s Flamigo and Oricorio Pom-Pom form. The way she got mad that it’s not considered a win and how Larry roasted her by telling her that her personal rules won’t apply when she goes into society was hilarious. Sidian also loses his match with Rika because he was protecting his partner Tulip’s Espathra, knowing that if his Pokemon is knocked out, he’ll lose. He explains that it’s not in him to use “backup” as a means to secure victory, showing off his usual honorable side. Seriously, Sidian is a rather nice guy; I do wonder why he’s with the Explorers. Overall, I feel like the matches with Kofu, Tulip, and Larry are cut down because they’re most likely the focus for the next stage of the Terestal Course; that’s just a prediction on my part.

Overall, these matches were a lot of fun! It’s just nice to see the kids battle and see their improvement! Now that the next episode will focus on Liko and Katy against Rika, I do wonder who will win. Liko has the type advantage as Rika is a Ground-type specialist, but her ace Clodsire is also a Poison type, which means that Grass moves won’t be as effective. If I was her, I’d target Dugtrio. Who do you think will win?

[stewy]

what draws you to ten and martha so much? what about their dynamic has got you in such a chokehold?

hot sexy toxic couple with the most chemistry in the entire show. this is just a fact

Martha is the Doctor's doctor! She starts the show as a medical student in training on the Doctor's show. She then takes a "sabbatical" year with this alien who calls himself the Doctor, who actually gives her the best training any medical student could wish for. She actually is the Doctor for the entirety of their time in 1913 because Ten is simply not there. And then he is out of it again, and she saves the world (is the lead hero!) on her own. And the whole time, she looks after him. She teaches him how to be a doctor again after the events of Doomsday, and that's a low he never quite reaches again until after losing everything in Journey's End. I think Martha is the only character who leaves on her own terms (I have not finished season 9 yet, leave me be), and was actually there with the main objective to look after this guy, while also traveling the universe of course (but even then, looking after his loneliness was in her mind even by Gridlock, which is insane to think about). I find so much meaning in how she made him better and kinder, while he turned him into a de facto Doctor... and a soldier, something he is shown to be ashamed of for lifetimes to follow :]

Series 2 was particularly unbearable for me to watch because of Ten & Rose's CW show romance, but I've grown to see it as the point (delusional)? Nine regenerated into someone he thought Rose would be more attracted to (even though she was already crazy about him, lol), therefore -> Casanova David Tennant! Which. Fair. But also there was sooo much, ugh, immaturity surrounding whatever they had going on, it's like, I'm too old for this. And then it ends in such a tragic way, which immediately shatters Ten's view on humanity because, well, Rose was his humanity. So! In comes Martha, someone only a few years older than Rose but who had to grow up much faster than she ever did because there was no illusion of Great White Romance there: he told her from the go that it was her only trip, even though he spent the entire episode auditioning her, lmao. And their relationship develops so organically from there: he is intensely reluctant and closed off; but she is insistent and he talks about Gallifrey for the very first time (!) since the War. While she at first sees him as this wonderful alien god who can take her away from it all for a while, and then grows to become intensely protective (!) of him and the Sisyphean task of aiding to his loneliness. Martha sees firsthand, multiple times, how fallible and arrogant and selfish he is, but she stays! Because she believes she can make it better. And she does! But not in the way she thought she could. :( Anyway, I guess my point was that it develops so naturally? There is no teenage hesitance; they're honest with each other and you can actually witness what they want and get from each other. Which I believe every TV romance should be about. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Relating to the previous point, I don't think it's bad that she loved him "more" than he loved her the whole time they were together. I think there's an honesty in two people meeting at different times (lmao) in their lives; and Martha met him at a tragic moment for his character. And, yes, she makes it better, but I think people who can only see her other doctors treating her better (which is true) are sort of missing T/M's emotional journey, which is the most gratifying part of series 3 for me. Plus, we, viewers, will never love someone in a CW show way because that type of romance is simply not real! At least not in the adult world (but again, children's show yaddayadda).

i think they should have fucked nasty.

[boabel]

any thoughts of sheaf you’d kindly share with me?

(you made me obsess over her🖕🏻)

OMG??? thought this day would never come.... IVE CONVERTED ANOTHER SHEAF FAN???

thank u sm!!!

okok so im going to share my hcs and how they came to me, whether they're based in canon or i js thought it fit with her.

home life

"a limber little girl from district nine did a back handspring after she recieved a bread roll" tbosas p.96

i treasure this quote so much because it's like the only sheaf-specific quote in the whole book. i usually base sheaf's home life on the fact that she is able to do gymnastics and, more specifically, perform for others. another quote, though it isn't directly about sheaf, also intrigued me.

"lucy gray and coriolanus resumed their picnic seats and watched the show. 'we're a regular circus troupe, we are,' she said as she picked bits of meat off her bone." tbosas p.97

though this quote is from lucy gray, it reflects on not only her but the previously mentioned sheaf and treech who were performing. we know that lucy gray is actually a performer because of the covey, and it is a popular fan-theory that treech has some involvement in theatre (thank u hannah for blessing us w this 🙏), so it isn't far-fetched to imagine sheaf has some experience performing too?

i personally see her as an orphan who is around seventeen years old. i hc this specific age just because it makes more sense for her backstory and she could easily look like a little girl whilst being much older due to malnourishment. she grew up very poor in an orphanage after her parents were shot by peacekeepers for rebel-involvement. district nine, to me, is a very musical and performance based district. sheaf, along with some other of the orphanage kids form a performance troupe (somebody singing, someone playing an instrument and someone performing). sheaf, in this instance is the performer. i think she'd be able to do things like walk on a tightrope and swing from ropes as well. she's extremely flexible and fast which would have aided her in the games if she got to compete.

personality

i have alot of posts analysing how i see sheaf's personality. i find it difficult to explain how i see her sometimes, but to me she's just a much more curious version of katniss everdeen. she's cynical, she's perceptive, she's determined and she's always scheming. she's a kind heart under a tough exterior. she fights nonstop for what is right, and believes the system of hate doesn't need to be changed, it needs to be destroyed. she's also a massive hater irrelated to katniss but yk. she would definitely be open about her hatred of the capitol, and would not be compliant with androcles during their interview. i have a post linking her to katniss here, which elaborates how sheaf's upbringing influenced her to be the way she is.

relationships

i haven't mentioned sheaf's relationships much on this blog, but i do touch on her past relationship with a fellow orphan, pip thistle, in my panlo and sheaf fic, linked here.

i believe sheaf has intense trust issues, specifically toward adults. she mainly distrusts people because of how they treat the orphans in nine. orphans get sent to the games over and over on purpose, because they won't be missed as much. sheaf hates this idea, and actively fights against it, until it's too late.

pip thistle, another orphan who sheaf loves more than anything, gets sent to the games and dies. sheaf becomes distraught and starts being more and more rebellious back home, which eventually results in her getting reaped. she doesn't do it on purpose per-se, but uses it as an opportunity to try as hard as she can to avenge the love of her life. she never gets the chance. she dies before getting into the arena. she fought so vigorously, performing for people that she hates, just to die before she even gets to try and fight. she dies in what she thinks is in vein, and hates herself for it.

i also think sheaf and panlo have a close relationship, though they only knew eachother from afar before the reaping. they vow to stay together during the games, and though sheaf doesn't trust him at first, they end up becoming very close. sheaf only blames herself even more for panlo's death, since he dies before she does of his injuries.

misc

here are some misc headcanons from both me and the amazing @persephoneprice on sheaf's character!!

[cevansbrat0007]

*clears throat and offers double chocolate chip cookies to GP Reader* Hello Mrs. Barber, I hope I am not being too forward in asking you these questions like I asked your dear husband last week. What are your favorite parts of your smokeshow husband's body and personality? And do you have any dating & relationship advice for this very introverted but very romance obsessed woman? Thank you so much for your time, you are like the cool aunties I've missed hanging out with.

Summary: It's Baby Girl's turn (also known as Mrs. Barber) to answer a few burning questions about her relationship with her husband, the infamous Andrew Barber. Written from Reader's POV.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Girl!Dad Andy Barber, Discussions of Fatherhood, Mentions of Oral Sex (Man Rec), Fingering (mentioned), Lloyd Evans-Drysdale, Punishments (mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Fluff, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: This installment of the A Growing Pains Interview Series also contains a brief reference to my fic, Handsy, where I first introduce Mr. Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. For more insight into Andrew Barber and his Baby Girl, please check out my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. ___

Hello! Finally, a question for me! I’m super excited, let me tell you. I believe we already know the ground rules with this…and I’ve sent Mr. Barber out of the room so we can all chat freely. I’ll show him this later. Maybe it’ll even earn me a reward. This girl right here has been on her best behavior this past week, which means no punishments!

You even have my promise to keep the hot streak going. Scouts honor, folks.

Let me start by saying that I love my sweet Andy Bear, and I am so unbelievably proud to call him my husband. He is by far the most amazing and brilliant man I’ve ever met. He’s also quite the menace, and I say that with all of the love. Whether we’re talking about his body or his mind, Andrew Barber is a fucking force, you guys. 

But at the end of the day, my man is foine as hell. Andrew is a luscious piece of ass wrapped in one big, well-proportioned package. And speaking of asses, have you seen his? You could bounce a quarter off that butt.

Quick fun fact: I tried it. It worked. So then I kept doing it. I even made a game of it which actually took up the entire day.

Although, the kids kept asking why Mama was “throwing money” at Daddy. So, I just made up some story about Daddy being forgetful and leaving his coins around the house, which meant that I had to try to put it back in his pocket for him.

But I had to be careful, because I didn’t want him to feel bad about being so darn forgetful. Worked like a dream. I mean, our beautiful Barber Babies bought that tale hook, line, and sinker. Even BiBi! She seemed suspicious, but then I caught her offering Andy one of her little wallets just in case he needed it. 

He was so touched by her gesture that he did eventually accept it. And then went out and bought her another one, complete with a matching piggy bank. Well, it was more of a llama bank – which also happens to be her favorite animal. Where he found it, I have no idea.  

Can I just deviate from the physical for a second to talk about what a wonderful father this man is? It’s not always about the big, grand gestures with us. In reality, it’s about the small, more intimate moments. Yes, our house is chaotic at times. We have four children under nine-years-old, so chaos kind of comes with the territory. 

And he handles it spectacularly – even when he fucks up. Now that might sound a bit harsh, but if I’ve learned anything from this whole parenting gig, it’s that you will fuck up sometimes. And we both do it, but he’s a wonderful partner who strives to be the best Dad he can possibly be. 

I love watching him with our children. He’s so protective and encouraging. He reads to them every night, takes them on “camping trips” in the backyard, and coaches pretty much every sport they’re involved in. I don’t quite get the whole camping business – I don’t do nature, or bugs – but apparently the kids do.

And they love that stuff. We don’t stay out all night, but we set up tents and tell stories and enjoy campfire snacks. Everyone stays up well past bedtime and my sweet little A.J., who takes after his father in so many ways, keeps me safe from “dah buggies” by sitting in my lap. See, Andy told him that bugs scared me, so it was up to them to keep me safe. Which is exactly what he does. 

Lord, help me when he grows up. I don’t know if I have it in me to live with two Andrew Barbers. But I guess I’ll just have to keep them, won’t I?

Oh! And in case you didn’t already know, Andy is also amazing company at tea parties. Katrina and Rory threw one the other day. They had me deliver a special, handmade invitation and everything. He picked out a suit, brought cookies from the local bakery, and even sat in a chair that was much too small for his bulky frame to be comfortable. 

But he did it all for his girls without so much as a fuss. 

I snuck a peek and nearly melted on the spot. And when we finally got a moment to ourselves, you can be damn sure that I got down on my knees with the quickness and sucked the soul out of my Big Man’s body. 

He didn’t fully understand why until I explained it to him later, but he also wasn’t complaining either. That man is the most delicious mouthful you could ever imagine. Mr. Barber is, eh, very well endowed. But I’ve also had ages to refine my technique. 

And he is always more than willing to let me practice. It’s actually very kind of him. That man has the patience of a saint – unless I’m deepthroating him. But otherwise his stamina is pretty top notch.

That aside, Andrew Barber is so completely and utterly devoted to me and this amazing little family we’ve built together that sometimes I get overwhelmed just thinking about it. I’ve never been loved so thoroughly or so deeply before. 

If I’m being honest, and I am, it actually used to scare me. And sometimes it still does if I let it. But I also accept my handsome ogre for who he is – the same way he accepts me for who and what I am.

Meaning that I’m a fucking brat, which I am through and through. It’s not my fault. My husband brings it out of me even when I least expect it. It might have something to do with that cocky grin of his, or that arrogant swagger he walks around with from time to time.

It makes me want to wreak havoc in new and inventive ways on a weekly, if not daily, basis. Andy knows this, of course. He claims he knew I was a brat from our very first date. I still have no idea what he means by that, so whatever. I just let him think what he wants. 

But we have fun together. And the things we do, the games we play…

It keeps things spicy. I guess you could say that it’s really Andy’s mind that turns me on. Couple that with his dominant and possessive nature and hot damn! Sometimes it can be a bit much to manage, but this girl doesn’t mind being slung over an impressive man’s broad shoulder every now and again.

I enjoy being manhandled. If it’s with the right man, that is. And Andrew Barber is definitely more than enough man for me. 

Anyway, I think that’s all I’ve got for now. As for your question about advice…hm. I would encourage you to just be yourself. 

But also, and I know this is much easier said than done, try to make yourself step outside your comfort zone. I’m saying go crazy or anything, but it might be worth taking a small risk here and there. Occasionally it’s okay to make the first move – even if you find that idea terrifying. 

With Andrew…I made the first move. Of course he tells it differently, and yes he may have seen me first, but I made the first move. Which was something that I had never done before. And I was so unbelievably nervous. At the time I found it so strange to be drawn to a person like that, especially with someone who possesses such an intimidating aura. 

But being just a little brave is ultimately what led me to the love of my life. Don’t get me wrong. My palms were sweaty and my legs felt kind of like jello, but I just felt like I had to try. 

And to this day, I’m so glad that I did. Because it means that I get to live my own love story. And while it’s not all a bed of roses, because we do have our problems, I do firmly believe that I’ve found my other half. And it’s because we continue to take a chance on one another and the bond that we’ve built every single day. 

Whatever you believe in, things happen for a reason. And when you find your person, you’ll know. They will accept you for who you are and will work hard to love you the way you need to be loved.

Just take a deep breath and have a little faith. Take a chance. Take a risk. But don’t settle for anybody, man or woman, who refuses to see your worth, girlfriend. You’re much too special for that. 

Signing off with love – Mrs. Barber 

P.S. I’ll be your cool Aunty all day long, boo! I’m always here if you need something or if you have more questions. Andy Bear and I screen these things together, but nothing is really off limits with us. And I will always happily take advantage of any opportunity to gush about the love of my life. Even if he is a menace. 

P.S.S. I also forgot to mention that I love Andy’s hands. You know in romance novels where they write about the hero having perfect hands with long, nimble fingers sporting just the right amount of callousness? That’s him. And not only that, but my Big Man’s fingers are absolute magic. Or instruments of torture. Depends on the day, really. 

By the way, my husband has the most delightfully one-sided rivalry with my favorite Hollywood actor, Lloyd Evans-Drysdale. It’s so funny! But the other day, I pulled up this interview where Lloyd cracked this eyebrow-raising joke about “all of his fingering being accurate” and watched it in bed right next to Andy. And then I may or may not have made some comment about how some men ought to be more like him [Lloyd Evans-Drysdale] and maybe take some notes. 

My husband didn’t like that. I got in sooo much trouble for it too. I mean, if you consider being held down, spanked, and then fucked within an inch of my life trouble. 

Completely worth it.

And in case you’re wondering, the answer is yes. All of Andy’s fingering is incredibly accurate in its own right. Even more so than Lloyd’s. And this girl has had more than enough orgasms to back him up. 

Also, Andy would probably also like me to mention that he is, in fact, taller than my movie star crush. And that he’s never had to wear a lace-front wig because his hairline isn’t receding. My sweet man can be a bit of a mental patient, but I do love him...

So, I guess I'll just have to put up with it. For now. Thank goodness he's cute.

___

[mvshortcut]

Ranking every time the Ten Men get taken down by how cringe fail they are (Part 2)

Warning: this post contains major spoilers for Riddle of Ages!

We're back again already, folks. Part 1 is here; now it's time for round 2 of some good old pointing and laughing.

Book 4: The Riddle of Ages

first appearance of my problematic faves the Katz brothers! There's always gotta be one cowardly goon in the lot, and the Scaredy Katz fulfill their role admirably. This knockout isn't too cringe-worthy, although the dramatic "Now!" [immediately gets knocked out] is quite comical, as well as the image of him trying to run on his knees. 3/10

And here we have Garrotte being painfully average once again. Although this one is made more interesting by the fact that he and Sharpe apparently jumped some random businessmen on the street and stole their completely normal briefcases, then had the audacity to be surprised when said completely normal briefcases didn’t hold up well in a combat scenario. It’s almost as if they’re designed to hold paperwork, not fend off a flurry of tranquilizer darts. Who would’ve thunk. Also. You could literally walk into any Home Depot and find dozens of items more suited for this purpose, which the Ten Men easily could’ve done if they weren’t so darn committed to the stonks bit. 

Also, “Most unfair! Such shoddy materials!” is the funniest possible thing you could say upon getting knocked out. It’s giving “trust fund kindergartener encounters Crayola crayons during art class for the first time ever.” Please just say “god damn it” like a normal person. 4/10

See this one is so funny to me. You're telling me that the infamous shock watches, which have terrorized several of our beloved characters over the course of the series, can be defeated simply by doing simple gymnastics? it's giving "show Sticky doing long division in his head to defeat Curtain's infamous Happiness brainwashing." Also, you're telling me you can knock out people simply by throwing darts at them? wild. anyways. I love Katz getting knocked out mid-threatening leap. 5/10

diversity win! Milligan won't kill you but he isn't above shooting you in the ass! 7/10

sorry this is so long but we need the full context to appreciate how cringe this is. imagine you brought five (5) of your best men to locate SQ Pedalian, a young adult not particularly skilled in combat, and also to fight a teenage girl. And now it's gone so sideways that you're literally the last one left standing. Standing, on top of an ice cream truck that you pushed on top of your opponent, who is now trapped beneath and yet has his hands casually laced behind his head as if he's tanning on the beach. And you got tricked into standing there, pinned by an empty gun, and simply watching while he loads darts into the (previously empty) gun. And now he's just shooting a bunch of empty darts at you, one after another, while you have to stand there and wait for him to finally knock you out. I think I would disintegrate on the spot. Also "You wouldn't shoot me in the face. That's not your style" bestie you just watched him shoot Sharpe in the ass. Would you prefer that instead? 9/10

This one might take the cake. First of all, they all fell for the trap, so now they're stuck in jail again like 3 days after escaping. And then, the teenage girl you've been terrorizing for years finally turns your stupid condescending pet names right back on you before a nine year old uses her mind powers to make you knock yourself out with your own weapon. 🫵 CRINGE. 10/10

Still very cringe, though less so than McCracken. It's kinda funny that Constance made them use their shockwatches instead of the (less painful) handkerchiefs. 6/10

Y'know, given the Katz brother's astounding loser energy, I'm amazed that they might actually have the least cringe take down. Taking the coward's way out. I respect it. Love them staring out the window. sad tigger gif here. Bonus points for ratting out Crawlings for being awful. 1/10 and two gold star stickers for them both

And, finally, for the grand finale, our favorite cringe boy is back:

Crawlings is making up for having fewer appearances in this book by making his COUNT. and YIKES. I literally have to step away every time I read this. From the supervillain monologue, to everyone groaning at him and then simply ignoring him (knowing what's about to happen), to Crawlings immediately poisoning and temporarily paralyzing himself the SECOND he gets a chance to be the Final Girl. And then he gets thrown back into jail. Plus the fact that he's on the floor about to pass out still wondering when the "Genius Serum" will kick in. uhhh. y'know, Crawlings, I might not be a genius either, but I have the slightest inkling that all may not be going according to plan. 11/10

And there we have it folks! The final rankings are:

Hertz: 6

The Katz Brothers: 9

Garrotte: 14

Sharpe: 22

McCracken: 35

And, in first place, with 36 points, our beloved Crawlings.

In conclusion,

[goodgrammaritan]

Doing some work and browsing old documents on my computer...

Do you want to read a story I wrote when I was 18? A story I revised at age 20 to submit to a statewide contest, open to all college students in the state? A story that won Writer's League of Texas 2006 Short Horror Story contest?

(Despite my urges to fix punctuation and adjust for weird continuity errors and smooth clunky phrasing, here it as, as submitted to the contest.)

(Also, copyright 2006 by ME, don't steal this, fuckers.)

.

.

Blender

By Christiana Haedge

            It was time. Time to get out my walk-in blender. It had been a few months since I’d had to use it, but unfortunately, people finally noticed that Marissa was gone. Damn. I hadn’t considered the fact that they’d notice this soon, but oh well, there was a remedy and by golly, I was going to use it.

            Dante had been watching me for a long time. He hadn’t found any evidence yet but it was only a matter of time. I couldn’t let him find anything to incriminate me and alas, if he got close enough, he’d find the pureed parietal under my fingernails. Nothing would get it out—I’d tried everything: scouring soap, steel wool, sandpaper…nothing worked. The bits of ground skull refused to go away.

            “Hello, Dante!” I said cheerfully, showing him in. “I’m glad you could make it, even though you’re a bit early.”

            “But I’m fifteen minutes late!”

            “Actually, you’re two hours and forty-five minutes early.”

            “What?”

            “The lunch starts at noon.”

            “But—” He looked at his watch. “You said nine and—wait, lunch?”

            “Yes, lunch.”

            “I could have sworn you said brunch! And not noon, nine!”

            I shrugged. “Well, you’re welcome to stay if you want to.”

            He looked nervous. I didn’t blame him. But he lived so far away that it wasn’t worth his time to leave and then come back. Besides, I’d invited Kaletia, the girl he’d had a crush on since freshman year. “I…”

            “Have you eaten yet?”

            “No.”

            “I’ll get you something.”

            This only made him more nervous—good. Everything was going according to plan. “I’ll—I’ll help you,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

            “We have eggs, cereal, microwaveable waffles, breakfast burritos from—”

“Blender”

“What’s that?” Ah. He’d noticed.

            “It’s my deluxe blender.”

            “It’s—it’s huge!”

            “I only use it for parties and there’s about a hundred people coming today, so I dragged it out.”

            “Wow…”

            “Do you want to look inside?” I asked.

            He flinched. Expected. But I had ways around that. “It’s fun…I can turn on the spinny thing and it’s kinda like a ride.” I climbed the ladder and slid in from the top. “See?” I shouted. “It’s only big enough for one at a time, though.” I pushed the lever inside and it spun me around very quickly—so fast, in fact, that Dante didn’t notice that the lever for starting the spin was a different one from the stopping lever. In fact, he didn’t see the stop lever at all and I was able to pull it without him noticing. I came to a stop and I used my special sticky shoes to scale the slippery wall. “See?” I said again when I got out. “Fun!”

            He looked intrigued in spite of himself and helped me down the ladder. “Can—can I try?” he asked.

            I nodded. “Just be sure to pull the lever when you want to stop.” I neglected to specify which lever.

            He eagerly slid in and pulled the start lever. He was having tremendous fun until he decided maybe he was getting a little dizzy. He reached for the lever and missed. “Help me!” he shouted as he whirled around.

            I made a pretense of trying to stop it from the outside. “It’s jammed!” I told him, feigning horror. In fact, the lever I had tried worked perfectly and he was now spinning faster than ever, making it near impossible to grab the lever. But grab it he did, and I grinned. Here was my favorite part.

            If the start lever was pulled again, the blender blades rose from the bottom and whirred with fury. Dante noticed this and screamed. I screamed too. “NOT THAT LEVER! NOT THAT LEVER!”

“Blender”      

His feet were mincemeat now. I pushed the emergency stop button. When the whirring of the blender stopped, I could hear his cries of agony. “My feet, what have you done to my feet?!” he moaned.

            I grabbed the crate of bananas that I’d peeled meticulously not an hour ago. I rushed to the ladder and poured them in.

            “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Dante screamed. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

            I smiled. “Making a giant smoothie.”

            I went back down the ladder to get the milk. Through his pain he managed to gasp, “This is how you killed Marissa!”

            “Not exactly,” I paused. “I used strawberries with her.”

            “No!”

            My grin grew. “Oh yes, yes indeed. But don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of yogurt and ice.”

            I watched gleefully as red swirled with the peachy color of his flesh, the pale off-white of the bananas blending with the yellow, full-of-marrow bone. It was a beautiful Technicolor display, a real “rainbow of humanity.”

            Two hours and thirty minutes later, I welcomed the first—ahem, second party guest into my home and offered her a bit of my special banana smoothie, secret ingredient never to be revealed.

            Unfortunately, I now had an irremovable strand of black hair to accompany the crushed bone under my fingernail. I really had to get a better cleaning product. That or a manicure.

            “Hey, where’s Dante?” Joe King asked.

            I flinched. “I guess he’s just…late.” I smiled inwardly at the pun.

            “His car’s outside.”

            Oh. Tactical error. “Uh…”

            “He did arrive, didn’t he?

“Blender”

“I didn’t see him,” I said, swallowing hard.

            “Say, is your finger—?”

            “Shut up!” I ran away from Joe, back to the blender. The smoothie was getting low. I threw bunches of grapes in furiously, not bothering to remove the stems.

            “Ew!”

            “Gross!”

            “Aren’t you going to take them off the stem?”

            “That’s disgusting! No way I’m drinking that!”

            I grinned amidst my distress. If they only knew what they were drinking…

            But grapes weren’t enough. The smoothies were never the same without—

            “OH MY GOD!”

            “AAAAAAAH!”

            “CALL 911!”

            I smiled at the stump on my left hand. There. The evidence was gone. But the sudden blood loss, the anxiety, the pain…I wasn’t feeling very…

[racfoam]

Funny fact. The first time I watched OOTP (I was a wittle kid and I was pretty oblivious) when Voldy showed up at the station I was so confused. Also, pretty sure my heart dropped because my kid-self thought he was actually there which would make sense why Harry was panicking. It took me years — no I'm not kidding, I googled this shit ‘why does Voldemort appear at King's Cross is it real’— to figure out Harry was DREAMING IT.

So! 😄 Here is a crack version of that scene of nynn. I say crack because it won't be how it happens in nynn but I want to give Harry a heart attack 😁

Enjoy my dumbassery. AKA Voldemort actually does appear at King's Cross in his fancy suit but everyone except Harry sees his face as a normal man and only Harry sees actually Voldemort.

-----------------

The trunks were trundling along. The steam of the hooting train drifted in the air. Parents were hugging their children. Friends were reuniting after an entire summer away. First years who were finding their soulmates released squeals of joy.

“It’s you!" a boy said happily, in the same time as a girl, and they embraced each other as though they’ve known each other their entire lives.

“Mum, dad, I met him! I met my soulmate!”

Minefield, just like always.

Harry ignored the painful ache inside her chest and walked on. Snuffles was circling around the station. It looked aimless to any bystander, but in fact, he was keeping an eye (and a nose) out for any enemies that may be approaching the small area Harry and her friends were in.

Right now, the black, bear-like sized dog was letting himself be snuggled by a bunch of first years on the other side of the station, tail wagging happily at the attention and all the little hands petting his fur.

“He's so fluffy!” a small girl said in awe. She didn't appear to be eleven years old, more closer to nine years old. Most likely, she was seeing an older sibling off.

A fond smile formed on Harry's face as she watched Snuffles lean his head down for a small four-year-old boy to pat him on the head with his tiny hand, murmuring, “Good doggy.”

Snuffles was just a great big cuddlebug.

Harry moved out of the way of a couple escorting their son to one of the train entrances, who rushed past Harry, a grin on his young face.

Harry continued walking down the station. She still had time until the train left. The mist was a bit thicker, bit it was slowly dissolving. There was an outline of a tall man in the mist. The voices of the crowd grew muffled, far away. They sounded like echoes from far away.

Hisses, sibilant and coaxing, reached and echoed softly inside of Harry's ears. They were coming further down. It sounded like they were calling to her...

The mist dissolved, and Harry stopped breathing, breath catching between a surprised gasp and a terrified scream.

Fifteen feet away from Harry, dressed in a sophisticated black-tie suit fitting his slim, tall frame, skeletal, with cat-like eyes as red as blood...

Lord Voldemort stood on the platform. tilted his head, snake-like, staring straight into Harry’s soul.

The moment they made eye contact across the distance, Harry’s breaths came out rapid and uncontrolled, slipping past her lips in a panic, squeezing down upon her lungs like a heavy boulder.

Surely, he could not be real. How could he be real? Surely, he was a figment of Harry’s paranoid, crazy imagination.

Then, Voldemort moved, and the world collapsed, growing deadly silent. His shadow moved with lethal grace, trailing after him in the reflection cast by the light of day.

A part of Harry’s brain screamed at her to run. Run where? Run how? With legs that have turned into a block of solid ice, pasting Harry flat to the pavenent of the platform, there was little possibility for running.

Forget running.

Harry was hyperventilating, staring at the white, serpentine face growing closer and closer. The only thing Harry could move were her eyes.

There were sounds behind her. The Higwarts Express was hooting. The warm steam caressed across the side of her cheek, rising the temperature of the first day of September.

Did people not see him? Did they not know how he looked like? Why wasn’t anyone screaming? Why wasn’t anyone running?

“It is a cloaking spell,” said Voldemort, his cold, high voice making Harry jump in place; she started trembling. “Very similar in context to passing by people and not remembering their faces. It’s a very useful spell to go unnoticed in a crowd.”

Voldemort looked striking, dressed like this. Almost normal. Almost human. Almost like someone Harry would allow to take her by the hand and bid her goodbye with a kiss on the cheek before gesturing her into the train with a promise to write every week.

A faint scent of cologne reached her senses. It was fresh; it smelled of the sea, and it was sharp like a strong gust of wind.

Or maybe thst’s just how Voldemort smells like. Of sea and cold winds.

Harry tried to focus, but she couldn’t. Not when Voldemort was dressed like that. He put Uncle Vernon to shame.

Voldemort stopped, only a feet apart.

“Oi, Harry!”

Voldemort stepped back from Harry, and she breathed again.

It was Fred and George. A wave of relief swept over Harry at the sight of them.

They must be seeing Voldemort differently than how Harry is seeing him.

“Don’t get too close, sir,” teased Fred, and Harry wanted to tell him he was an idiot, that he was going to get himself killed.

“Yeah, You-Know-Who might find out how close you got to Harry and get jealous.” added George dramatically, grin broadening.

Voldemort, however, smiled back, like he thought it was funny.

He's right here! Harry wanted to scream. Can't you see him?!

Harry turned beetroot, flushing from her chest and straight up to her forehead. Her cheeks and ears were on fire.

Turning her head over her shoulder to the twins, Harry mouthed to them, “I am going to kill you.” in a wordless whisper.

Fred and George grinned and winked at her. “You welcome, You-Know-Who's-Number-One-Target. C’mon, we’re boarding.”

With winks to Harry, who glared at them a glare deadlier than a basilisk’s, they strutted back to the top of the station.

Harry moved to follow them, keeping her narrowed eyes on Voldemort in case he tried something.

“Goodbye, Harriet,” said Voldemort softly.

It took Harry by surprise. She stopped retreating, and stared at Voldemort.

“Bye,” croaked Harry in a gasp of a breath, and ran after Fred and George.