#an adult makes it better and worse‚ she can make her own decisions! but he's the one who raised her to make those decisions you know?

[poptartmochi]

no fucking way I hit max tags on the last post.. since I can't add onto it, long post warning for it and probably this post 🤪🤪🙈

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

This makes me incredibly angry.

[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post from user Advocatus Peregrini, which reads:

I was conversing with a fully-grown adult a few days ago, born and educated in the USA, who let this little gem drop:

"Well, it's like Shakespeare said, "Love conquers all!""

I pointed out that Shakespeare never said that, Virgil did, (Eclogues X) and Chaucer after him (Canterbury Tales.)

She said, "Oh I'm sure Shakespeare said that. In Romeo and Juliet!"

I sighed. I've been in that play several times, in different roles, and even directed it. That text does not occur in it.

But the real grind-my-teeth moment here was that if Romeo and Juliet can be said to have a message, it is most certainly not "Love conquers all," seeing as the lovers die by their own hands with a trail of their friends and relations' corpses in their wake.

Neither this fact, nor the fact that I knew the play, nor my explanation that Virgil and Chaucer used the phrase long before Shakespeare's birth dented her determination that "Love conquers all" came from Shakespeare.

"You don't know ALL the versions!" she protested.

All the versions?

Alternative Bard?

With every instinct screaming at me to let the matter drop, warning me that some horror that will not soon be absent from my nightmares waited around the next corner of this conversation. I pressed on.

It was a decision I was soon to regret.

I asked when she had first read "Romeo and Juliet." She said she had only read it once, when she was in Junior High. In the version she was taught, Romeo and Juliet survive, are reconciled with their parents, and are married in the church with their friends Mercutio and Tybalt arm in arm in the wedding party.

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint."

It turned out that her school had their own "version" of Romeo and Juliet, with an "uplifting" ending. This was printed and distributed by a religious education publisher. And it was the only version of the story that she had ever read. Of course she had HEARD other people say that the story was a tragedy, but she just assumed they were wrong.

And she did not see why MY version of Shakespeare should be considered better than HER Shakespeare, which, after all, had a much more wholesome ending.

I explained, in vain, that "my" version is definitive because Shakespeare actually wrote it (quiet, you Oxfordians. Don't make me stop this car) and the message of the play - that when adult stubbornness meets youthful impulsiveness tragedy ensues - is lost in the ersatz, happy-clappy ending.

She said the ending that had been Frankensteined onto Shakespeare's play by the "Christian Education" publisher was better than the original ending, "if the ending is as sad as you say it is."

At this point, I concluded that this was a person who deserved to go through the rest of her life "...safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!" I bid her adieu.

After the conversation, I wondered, darkly, if that was to be the fate of Shakespeare, and all other literature if the happy-clappy people get their way - as harmless and "uplifiting" as a cheerleader's chant.

I wondered what these bowdlerizers would do with "Hamlet?" or worse, "Titus Andronicus" or "MacB-" Nothing wholesome, I'm sure. Oh, that's right, what they can't appropriate, they ban. Or burn.

In trying to protect children, we leave them undefended from "...the slings and arrows" that life will no doubt throw their way. Shakespeare raises the issues of tragedy - the fatal flaw, the last turning, the role of fate, as well or better than any author before or since. He is a gentle tutor, much to be preferred over that stern and dangerous teacher, Experientia Inopinatum.

But, as ever, it really isn't about the children. It's about the adults, and their desire to avoid answering difficult questions from agile young minds, who know no fear and swarm like eager flies around questions that have been boggling our best minds for millenia. To answer the questions that literature raises, you have to have thought deeply about them yourself. And that is something that few dare to do.]  end id

[nekropsii]

People in the Cronus v. Vriska debate will also completely ignore that Cronus. Really wants to kill people. He just says that. No obfuscation included.

He doesn’t even have any excuse for it. Vriska killing people makes sense because she grew up on Alternia and had to feed her Lusus. Cronus just wants to kill people because he wants to do murder-eugenics and is really fucking mad murder-eugenics isn’t legal and does in fact have social consequences. Cronus just wants to kill disabled people for being disabled and not get in trouble for it. He explicitly says he wishes culling “meant what it should have” on Beforus.

Vriska was born and raised on Alternia, and that’s not her fault. It is, in fact, an entirely new level of fucking deranged to want Alternian laws to be real. Growing up in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay is different from wishing you lived in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay, because growing up there inherently means that that is already normal to you, while wishing that was the case inherently means it is not normal to you, you just want more harm to befall specific out groups (the lower class, the disabled, etc.) and to hurt more people in more violent ways.

People also love to casually ignore that Cronus is a grown adult. Like, sure, he’s 19, and 19 years old is pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but he is still a grown ass man who knows better. Him knowing better and simply not caring is literally a major part of his character. He is a grown ass man who can make his own legal decisions and live on his own. He can pay taxes. He could buy a house. He could invest in the stock market. In some countries, he can legally drink. He can drive. He can drink and drive. He can go die in the military. He’s grown. He’s a grown ass man. Vriska is 13. That is a child. Like, a CHILD child. Vriska is a middle school child. This is the difference between a middle schooler and a college student. Think of how mentally developed you were at 13. You weren’t even done with puberty yet. You’re not even done growing at that age. Cronus can fucking vote. He can go to adult prison. If you spotted a kid Vriska’s age out roaming the street with no guardian in sight, you’d probably be worried.

A major part of Cronus’s character is that he is a terrible person by choice, willingly, knowingly, and does not care. He is making a decision. Him being shitty and awful is a conscious choice he is making. He knows he is hurting people, and he knows what he is doing is terrible, and he does not care. Cronus knows that trying to bang children 6 years his junior is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows he is abusing Mituna, he calls it abuse, and he knows abuse is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows sex crimes are bad. He doesn’t care. He’s too entitled to care about anyone but himself and his own gratification.

Vriska is a 13 year old anti-hero who literally gets groomed and is shown to only be Like That because she is extremely traumatized and her experience of living on Alternia has made it so her guard is up 24/7. She literally cannot put the metaphorical swords down. She thinks it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

Cronus does not have an excuse.

That is, like… The Point.

The point is that he sucks and is irredeemable. He doesn’t have a single quality that makes standing around him worthwhile. He’s a relentless, unapologetic abuser. He just doesn’t care. He’s the most entitled man to ever live. He sees people as punching bags and sex toys, and any time this notion is rejected or faces even the slightest pushback, he freaks the fuck out about it.

And the point with Vriska is that she is complicated, and a child. A really, really traumatized, really, really scared child.

I don’t know, I think there’s a party here that is objectively worse.

… And - hear me out! - I think… I think it’s the adult sex predator… And not the child.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day fourteen: degradation kink

>>> so clearly i have a lot of issues...y'all gonna hate me for this one i can just feel it in my bones but guess what....i do not care! toji is degradation need i say more?

>>> starring toji fushiguro x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: dilf!toji, age gap, college aged reader, mafia themes, dad's best friend toji, degradation duh, no prep, exhibitionism, breeding, a daddy theme? you don’t ever call him that it’s just. yes. dark content maybe? just in case. creampie, pet names. >>> wc: 3.6k >>> event masterlist

it was risky, you know, and most certainly wrong. you should be disgusted. he’s been married—lost his wife, has a young kid, all things much more adult than you’ve ever had to deal with in your college-aged life. he’s a horrible man, though you suppose your father isn’t much better since they work so closely together, not that you’re supposed to know anything about the work they do. all you know is they make way too much money and carry way too many guns for their jobs to unrelated to the mafia crime wars making the news. you should be disgusted and scared, yet here you stand, in front of your mirror trying to find the best outfit to wear downstairs to greet your dad’s sexy colleague. 

you were only in town for so long since you were just visiting your family for summer break, so you had limited time to try and lure him into making a move. so you settle for a black bra that enhances your bust, covered only with a black glitter mesh long sleeve and a matching leather mini that clings to your ass. it was definitely a heels kind of night, and the pretty black louboutins you slid into elongate your legs perfectly. after some hair and makeup, you sling your purse over your shoulder and only make your way down the stairs when you can hear his deep voice speaking with your father. 

you stride past the office, knowing your dad would stop you. your heels click against the mahogany and as if on cue, your father belts your name. you grin to yourself, everything was going according to plan. you turn, clicking back to lean into the room. 

“yes, daddy?” you hum, batting your eyes so innocently when you were the picture of anything but. it makes a vein in your father’s forehead jump, but alas, you’re a grown woman who makes her own decisions. just rest assured the weight of god would come down on whoever wronged his baby girl. 

“where’s my princess going?” he coos, giving an apologetic glance to his coworker. luckily, he feels his eyes and meets them, giving him a nod of forgiveness. 

“oh, just going out with some of my girls! becky just got out of a relationship–she needs the club!” you titter adorably, feeling his eyes bore into you. you give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “hi mister fushiguro!” 

the scarred corner of his lip creeps into a grin, a finger salute serving as his greeting only because he didn’t trust his mouth to keep his thoughts at bay. you’re sexy as fuck, and totally off limits. it only makes him want you worse, though it doesn’t help you’re the hottest bitch he’s ever seen. 

“do be careful, princess.” he smiles, clueless to how his friend eyes you up. 

“course daddy. can i take your black card?” you pout so endearingly, toji would give you all the money in his wallet if you asked. your father hums approvingly and fishes it out of his wallet, holding it up in the air for you to retrieve. your heels click and your hips swing as you make your way over, displaying your delicious figure perfectly. toji thinks it’s a miracle your father hasn’t had to kill anyone over you yet. you lean over the desk and take the card with perfectly manicured fingers. he watches it all, already planning how the rest of this night would go once you left. 

“be careful.” your father reiterates, and you roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. 

“don’t worry–my guys can handle anyone who gets outta line–satoru and suguru would never let anything happen to me.” you swear, batting those long lashes again. your father seems comforted by this, but toji is only aggravated to learn you have male friends. they no doubt wanted to fuck you and were only biding their time just as he was. “bye daddy, see you later mister fushiguro!” 

and just like that, your red bottoms carried you away with obnoxious clicks telling him just how far from him you were. your father sighs heavily. 

“what a handful that girl is.” he says affectionately, shaking his head as they get back on task, your father giving toji a rival kill for the night. he grins at the file, knowing he’d be able to wrap that up rather quickly and then get to the real target. 

you’re haunted by how effortlessly good he looked, and how unable you are to do anything about it on the way to the club, only wallowing in your desperation for a man way older than you. he was just so big, tall and broad and had to be even stronger than he looked. you knew he was experienced and rough, he would definitely be able to take care of you, if only you could work up the nerve to actually hit on him instead of these passive aggressive attempts at drawing him to you. it clearly wasn’t doing the trick, even if you could tell he wanted you. you’re so lost in your own head that the driver has to get your attention multiple times before you realize that you’re outside the building. you step out and shimmy your skirt down a bit further. 

the sound of your friends squealing as they wait for you draws you right to them, painting a smile on your face to celebrate you friend’s breakup—shoving hopes of toji fushiguro finding you at the club tonight to the back of your head. the scene is nothing special, just like every other clubbing spot in every city in the world. it’s all neon lights and smoky clouds of tobacco and marajuana both, the smell of liquor and vomit mingling together to make your nose scrunch and sting as you enter the dingy dance floor alongside your closest girls—and the bodyguard boys trailing behind you. your group makes their way to the bar immediately, fruity mixed drinks and beers being handed out for the first of many times tonight. you can feel the buzz of excitement in the air even though you were feeling let down, perhaps that was because of the group of fellow college-aged boys eyeing you and your friends down from the dj booth. you play your little games with the man staring at you longingly, downing the rest of your liquid courage to go ask him to dance. 

his hands were clammy, but at least he smelled good—like too much cologne and the gum in his mouth, his body pressed up against yours as you two sway to some electro-funk beat meaninglessly. You can feel his sweaty hands trail along your waist and hips, even lowering to your thighs and inching his fingers up the already short leather skirt, and your nose scrunches up in distaste. it was better than wondering about your father’s right hand man though, so you settle for it. you tell yourself that if you think hard enough, you can picture him instead. it doesn’t take as much effort as you thought. the clammy hands of the college boy disappear to be replaced by the coarser broader hands of an older man, the heavy cologne replaced by a natural musk with hints of a beach bonfire mingled in. his hands would move along your body expertly, he would know the ins and outs of the female anatomy–surely able to please you in all facets. you can just imagine his smirking face as he leans down over your shoulder to whisper something raunchy in your ear, something about how he’s been waiting to make you his since the minute he saw you. 

which is almost exactly what happens, except the man you’re daydreaming of stands in front of you looking real amused, seething almost. “princess,” he snarls, the bass in his voice alone enough to shock away the little boy grinding into your ass. “here i was thinkin’ ya got all dressed up f’r me.”

the red and green strobe lights of the club dance off his sharp features, highlighting the jealousy and intrigue swimming in his eyes. there was a splatter of blood on his cheek, but otherwise he looked as gorgeous as he normally did. his black t-shirt looked nearly spray-painted on the way it was highlighting every ridge and muscle in his chest and torso, and his usual pants clung to the taut muscle of his broad thighs. 

“i did, but you shrivel up in front of my daddy.” you tease, unsure of where your courage to poke at the dangerous and large man came from. “now you wanna come here and scare off the ones bold enough to dance with me?” 

you’re evil, you’re sick in the head, but you smirk like you knew he would fall into the trap easily. and he does. he grabs your wrist and spins you around, and you feel the warmth of his fingertips digging into your hip. another one of the college boys watches with contempt, nursing a bloody nose you imagine he earned with some slick comment— that explains the fresh blood on toji’s face. he presses up against you, dropping your wrist in favor of a hold on your throat, not too good to manhandle you in public. what’s someone gonna do? intervene? call the cops? that makes him laugh. the grip on your throat is surprisingly light, though the threat of something more punishing looms large. you feel his chest rumble against your back— he was laughing at your tense form, the beat of some rap song thumping in your ears now. 

“yeah, that’s exactly what i did.” he snarls in your ear, his hold on your throat keeping your back to his chiseled chest, not that you wanted to get away anyhow. “shrivel up,” he chortles at your dig, replaying your little tantrum. “y’know the only reason i can’t manhandle ya in front of your pops is ‘cuz he’d get so stupid i’d have to kill him. want that, sweetheart?” 

you’re embarrassed you have to keep yourself from nodding—wagering your father’s life just to have his colleague the way you wanted, how shameful. he spits these pet names like they’re insults, like he knows what you really are. a little whine of desperation leaves your throat and you press your ass back against him, collecting your thoughts to find something to say to drive him wild. “do whatever you gotta do, i’m familiar with the business—just want you real bad, mister fushiguro.” 

it works, everything you do puts him deeper under your spell, gritting his teeth in frustration as he falls for you. it’s more embarrassing for him than it is for you, really. he’s a grown man enchanted by the supple body and soul of a woman a fraction of his age. but he can’t stop himself from tailing you on your outings, telling himself that your dad pays him a pretty penny to keep you out of harm’s way, and that’s all he does. but he goes above and beyond, especially on nights like these when some little boys are feeling a little too bold for his liking. so of course he followed you here, and of course he broke that scrub’s nose who said something about your ass, and of course, it was just a matter of time. until he just couldn’t lie to himself any longer about what he wanted. until you pushed him over the edge and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

“oh yeah?” he hums, brow arching up as his hands slide down your hips, playing with the hem of your skirt. “you really that big a slut for me? you’d let me kill your precious daddy?” he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss under your ear. he radiated warmth and possessiveness and his fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs. you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or his words but you’re buzzing. you can feel his handprints practically searing into your flesh, the two of you barely moving to the beat that drowns out all other noise. 

he slaps your ass. “asked you a question.” his gravelly voice rasps in your ear, the scraping of his teeth against your flesh comes next instead of a sweet kiss. you whimper out a bit and nod, feeling the heat course around your body in a mixture of embarrassment and deep arousal. he was right—you were a massive slut, dedicating your entire summer break to getting his attention in hopes he would touch you like he is right now. 

“can’t hear ya–might be th’ music?” he taunts, sliding his other hand away from your neck and over your voluptuous chest. he grunts impatiently as he feels the dips of your body and that coarse sheer top beneath his fingertips, waiting for you to obey. 

“yes—i’m’a slut, mister fushiguro.” you hiccup from the vodka running through your veins and the embarrassment stinging at your eyes. his chuckle rumbles through his chest again, though not in the way it did earlier. he spins you around to face him, pinching your chin in between his forefinger and thumb. 

“call me toji, dollface.” he smirks as you nod sheepishly, suddenly shy now that you were getting your way. he was even scarier up close, beautiful features twisted and darkened to reveal his sinister nature. but you find a way to get lost in hooded eyes of green reflecting the crazy flashing lights as he looks past you, trying to find somewhere to take you. he locates a bathroom, dragging you behind him with another commanding grip on your wrist. he has the decency to pull you inside the women’s stalls at least, reserving the biggest one for your activities. he would just fuck you out in the open to really show you how crazy you make him, but he can’t risk making that big a scene—and he’d probably have a few more bodies to bury if anyone looked at you the wrong way. 

you stand in the middle of the stall, watching him secure the lock and turn to you, chuckling at your waiting expression. you were nervous, wanting to impress but not sure where to start despite the hot need snowballing in your center the longer you stand there and look at him. he tilts his head up and you walk towards him, his smirk spreads. 

“you’re an obedient lil pup for such a spoiled bitch.” he chuckled, shoving his beefy hands under your top and pushing it and your bra up over your chest. you swear you can feel your panties dampen from the words alone, why did you like it so much? you open your mouth to respond, stammering over your speech. 

“i’m–i–i’m n-not—” 

“spit it out, pup.” he laughs, feeling at the round mounds you barely kept covered. they’re just as fat and soft as he knew they’d be, and his cock starts responding to your little whimpers as he massages you roughly, pulling and pinching at your nipples. 

“not a—not a slut!” you huff out despite the way you lean against the wall to relish his callused hands on you. he snickers again, the sound so mean it makes you pout up at him. it only makes his cock harder. he drops his hand to cup your pussy, earning a gasp from you. you bite down on your lip as he shoves your thong aside and crudely collects some of your slick on his digits. he clicks his tongue when he shows you, fluorescent lighting and your arousal making his fingers shine. 

“not a slut? then what’s this?” he arches a brow. “seems like y’r dribbling down y’r legs to me.” he taunts, pale pink lips stretching into a menacing grin. he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, shoving his fingers past your pout until they tickle the back of your throat and you gag. the sound makes him shudder a bit, and he’ll make sure you choke on his dick next time. “say it or i’m goin’ home. not giving my dick to liars.” 

you clean his fingers, intrigued by the sweet acidity of yourself. your eyes widen a bit at his threat, knowing you were defeated. his other hand tugs at your hard nipple again and you wince at the delicious pain. you pull off his fingers and resume that adorable pout. “guess i am–i’d do anything!”

he laughs and yanks your skirt up to your waist, letting his thick fingers play over your swelling clit tauntingly. “then beg for dick like the little whore you are.” he says in a faux-non-chalance. your breath hitches at his feather light touch and demeaning command, but as he steps back and pushes down his jeans, your mouth waters. 

“oh god–” you whine aloud, legs pressing together at him. he was huge, wrapped in bulging veins and gorgeous ridges. his black hair was trimmed around his base, full balls hanging low. you lick your lips at the sight of his hand closing around his shaft, and you gulp when you realize just how big he is, a massive hand not enough to contain him. “fuck. toji–please, i want you so bad.” you bat your lashes at him, fixated between his dick and his piercing stare. “may be a whore—just for you though, been waitin’ on you to notice me. “

oh, he noticed. you made it impossible not to, looking like pure sex every time he saw you—but the glossiness in your eyes and the slight bruising around your tits really brings it all together. he drops the baby changing table and looks to you. he does it so effortlessly you wonder for a second if he’s done this before, but it didn’t matter either way—you would be the most memorable for sure. 

“bend over.” he adds, the dark pools of lust taking over the greens of his eyes. you do as told, feeling embarrassed at your disheveled state as you lean over the table attached to the wall and part your legs, feeling his hand come down on your ass roughly. you squeal and jump a little bit before his hand snakes between your thighs to feel just how ready you were. “poor old man. gonna be so devastated.” 

“don’t care.” you whimper, wiggling your ass back to feel more of his cock as he slides it along your folds, stealing some of your wetness for himself. he chuckles, grabbing as much of your fat ass as his hand could hold. 

“course y’don’t. y’r my little whore.” he grunts, jiggling your cheek. “he’s right though. you really are a handful.” he chuckles at his own joke, aggressively shoving his thick cock past your tiny hole, cussing at the tight fit. “see? swallowing me up like it’s all y’r good for.” he huffs against your neck, leveraging his weight to snap his hips against you like he hates your guts. you’re clawing at the textured plastic under you, his pace absolutely brutal and ripping guttural cries from your throat. he reaches around to clap his hand over your mouth, not wanting anyone to come running thinking someone’s getting murdered back here. “loud slut too, hah?” 

you nod, rendered unable to do anything else. he pounds into you, jamming his leaking tip into the entrance of your cervix, sending blissful pain shooting through your body. he was even better than you imagined, tingles shooting everywhere and blurbs of white floating across your eyes. your arms start to wobble as you hurtle towards your orgasm, and toji reaches out–making a ponytail out of your hair to pull on, snapping your back into a deep arch. he grunts at the vision before him, your pussy was gripping him like nothing he’d ever experienced. 

“never fucked a whore cunt like yours–maybe i’ll cum real deep in it so i can keep you.” 

you clench at that and he tosses his head back to groan, amazed by the recoil of your ass and the choke of your walls. you whimper in his hand, the idea of feeling his cum was so hot to you—you couldn’t possibly delay your own release any longer. he feels you still, your pussy spasming around him as your body goes completely limp. you still make your little noises of approval as he uses you. 

“aw, you liked that, huh? you’re nasty, bitch.” he chuckles deeply now, cock twitching in your womb. but he’s just as bad, fantasizing about how you’d tell your father that news, how he’d do anything it took to see your slutty body grow into a motherly one. he paints your walls in thick, hot ropes, stilling inside you. “guess megumi could always use a sibling.” 

he pats your ass with something akin to affection and slides out, watching beads of his seed trickle out. you pant and try to collect your thoughts, expecting to hear the lock of the stall click open and toji’s footsteps pad away from you—no doubt slipping back into the night to patrol for your father like usual. but moments pass, and you don’t hear anything other than you’re own breathing until he clears his throat again. 

“so. wanna get some food’r somethin’?” he thumbs at the corner of his lip anxiously, and you swear you can see the hint of a blush on his nose. so this is the part that makes him nervous? 

“huh? you tryna be my boyfriend or my sugar daddy?” you giggle as he repositions your skirt on your hips. he rolls his eyes.  “more like your baby daddy, dollface.” he spanks your ass and opens the bathroom stall, letting the lady go first—showing you that he’s a perfect gentleman.

[kel-lance]

Stepdad Nanami

——MDNI——GROOMING, not really incest, Age gap, manipulation, broken home, slut shaming (at ur mom lol), drug mention—————-

You knew your mom’s marriage had about 3 years at most, you had to give it toher that 5 with the same man would have been a new record if she was only with him for that time.

It wasn’t your business. If you had anything to say the men would blame you and say you were just like her. 

You didn’t care about those guys, and they never lasted long with your mother anyway. It was like this for the first 16 years of your life until your mom met a handsome man, who became your stepfather after 2 years of dating your mother 

He was always nice to you, he did everything a good dad should. He got you a car, went all out on your birthday, he wasn’t tying to win you over, he was just that great, he made you change your mind about men. (maybe it was just the kind you mother kept running to)

It was heartbreaking the day he say you down, before he could explain his face sank. He covered his eyes and sighed as he explained that he’s serving your mom with divorce papers. he feels bad to bring you into this but he had to ask

You’re an adult now, you can make your own decisions, but I wanted to give you the chance to get away from her. I don’t mean any offense, but I know for a fact she’s going to use you or worse.

he was right on the money, sometimes she used you to lure in those strange men, where she’d threaten to tell their wives or police what they thought they were doing with you. It was just her type, people who could compare her to parts of herself. In this case, she was sick enough to use her daughter as bait.

You were safe though, it never got further than forceful kisses to tape as proof. That hag just had it out for you but would never consider sharing.

You immediately take his hand as you wanted to move out for years. You’re 21 but she’s had control over you. People always say just leave, you’re an adult so she has no power.

Try living your life as a flea in a jar or a frog in a growing boiling pot, there’s a whole world out there and yet you were taught your limits. 

Your eyes pleaded for him to take you away. You didn’t care, you felt closer to him than anyone. You knew it could be wrong, but he said it himself, you’re an adult now. And your mother wouldn’t be upset about sharing since he’s leaving her. 

You climb onto his lap and lay your head on his neck, his hand now slid down his face, covering his mouth as his other hand patted your head closer to him.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He promised. 

The next week sure were hectic. You had to plan out what to take, gathering all your important documents and essentials. 

Nanami daddy got a studio for you both, in a matter days you had everything moved out of the house while your mom was on her bender. Her lapses of being with one man for months then going to whoever after was just part of her fun. She didn’t need them for anything other than attention.

Sometimes you wonder what your father was like, if he could’ve treated you better than her if she didn’t have u trapped in her body for months. U don’t want to know what she did while pregnant with you either. 

You were given this chance. Your stepdad leaving, and he was taking you with him. He saw what kind of life you both had. He found no sympathy for her as she was the adult. He stayed for you. 

A child should be cared for, loved. He didn’t get that from you at all when you first met. Just 16 and you avoided him like the plague. it gave him an indication of who was usually around.

He didn’t lure you out with gifts or make the first move. He just entertained your mother, as he did find something amusing with her. She was fun, but at home she’s a terrible mom and that wasn’t anything he found respectable. 

It wasn’t until the 4th month that he was still around that you just found it weird. No ones usually around this long. Mom was probably having a lot of fun with this idiot you thought.

The 6th month came and you started to come out when he was around. If he was in the kitchen, you wouldn’t wait for him to leave the space before making it yours. It was your house after all, you were going to remind him.

It was weird, but you were getting jealous of him being around. Your mom couldn’t stick to one thing, much less take responsibility and take care of you. Why was he so special? Why did she /want/ to see him?

You felt hatred grow in you as he noticed the posters on your wall, the music you played, how you dressed. For your 18th, he’d gotten you tickets to one of your favorite band’s shows. How the hell did he- and the small gifts like stickers of said posters, he made it so you weren’t surprised when you received yet another reward after accomplishing something, even the smallest thing. “Because you deserve it.”

You didn’t know if it weirded you out, that he was being so nice to you, or that he was your mom’s fiancé and you had him under you. 

That hate boiled over one day and you just had to get it out somehow. He was always patient with you, as you asked to talk to him. It surprised him, but it was definitely a step forward. 

He sits on the same side of the table as you, facing each other, your opposite arms touching the table.

“Are you upset about the wedding?”

You don’t say anything, your eyes darting, answering his question.

“I’m sorry (y/n), but it’s for the best. (M/n) said you’ve seemed happier since we got together.” Your stomach sank. “I could keep-“

You grasp out for his dress shirt sleeve, looking up at him, somewhat between crying and pouting, asking him to stop talking. 

His eyes widen. “(Y/n)…” You take his hand, bringing it to your body. You place his palm under your shirt, watching his face go from confused to flustered. His stoic personality wavering, you hold onto his arm and jump onto his lap. 

You could already feel it, he was so hard under you. 

“(Y/n)!” He takes his hand back, putting you back onto your chair. His stern look scared you. He’s never looked like that around you, only because you were always well behaved, or rather just kept to yourself. He never expected this from you. But you were your mother’s daughter. 

His hand around the wrist you let him feel you with. You didn’t know if you had just fucked up big time. Was the wedding off? You just wanted him to yourself and had to let him know. 

The look you gave him almost made him feel bad for treating you right the past few years. 

you werent used to that, you didn’t know any better. the anger you were feeling was from a lot of things. why did someone like your mother get to marry someone like him? 

Why weren’t there more people like him? If there were you would have been saved a long time ago, but instead, you’re giving it all to the first person who’s shown you you’re more than an extension of your mother. 

Thankfully he was just a man, and that yearnful, pathetic, desperate look a young girl could give to melt a man’s morals, he kissed you.

He keeps kissing you, almost like he was teaching you how he liked it, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care about anything else. Your mom could walk in right now and you’d show off how much better you were for nanami. 

That didn’t have to happen though. As his large hands found their way to your hips and he slowly brings you back to his lap. And after that day you were his. 

He stopped himself so many times to not take you just yet though. It wasn’t until the weeks leading up tot he wedding that he wanted you more than ever. And you’ve been more than patient. Only getting by with his touch and words of encouragement. 

You didn’t get why he still went through with the small wedding, maybe to just show off to everyone else, mislead them that he’s a good man, marrying into a good family, with an honest job and whatever else to solidify the lie. 

the next 2 years being the best you’ve ever had, up until your mothers alcoholism started to catch up with her. Her need to find solace in addictions, whether it was the validation of men, gambling, sex, any other drug, she was a mess. Everyone believed Nanami would be able to fix her, but her last blackout caused you to get a sprained wrist and black eye. That was when nanami had enough. 

Spoiler for part 2: Nanami's divorce lawyer fucks his step daughter (Hiromi makes an appearance.)

[formosusiniquis]

There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

[babydollmarauders]

KIDS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.” & “That was kind of hot.” & “How is my wife more badass than me?” with Jack.

warnings: toxic mother (readers mom), profanity

as a mom, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone else tries to parent my children. it happens most often with my own mother. she and i never had a great relationship, and i thought it may get better now that i have my own kids, but i was wrong, it’s only gotten worse.

she makes passive aggressive comments about Jack and i’s parenting choices, tries to undermine my decisions, and has even completely disregarded my words completely. but the real cherry on top is what’s happening right now.

Jack just got back from a roadie, and he was spending time with the kids when my mom showed up at our house. when i asked her what she was doing here, she said that she ‘thought i might need some help with the kids while Jack slept’. which rubbed me the wrong way because first of all, she knows he always sleeps on the plane so that he can play with Eli and Luella when he gets home; and second of all, she acts as if i don’t take care of my children all on my own the entire time he’s traveling.

“mom, what the hell?” i stage whisper, standing across from her in the kitchen. i glance out the kitchen doorway towards the living room, where Jack lays on the floor on his stomach, between our four year old and two year old, coloring with them. “you know full well that we’re perfectly fine.”

“well, i just wasn’t sure. you know, he spends so little time with them already, and he just got back from a long trip, i figured he would be tired. so i came over to take care of them so he could sleep.” she feigns innocence, raising her hands up in mock surrender.

“do you realize how bad he already feels about being away from them? he does the best that he can in order to spend as much time with them as possible, and you coming here, just assuming that he’d be giving up any time he has with them, is rude and disrespectful.” i tell her.

“well now that i’m here, i’d like to spend some time with my grandchildren.” she says.

“fine. whatever.” i storm out of the kitchen, and Jack’s head pops up when i walk back into the living room. his eyebrows raise at the sight of my irritated expression and i shake my head to tell him that i don’t wanna talk about it. his attention is pulled away when Eli calls for him, telling him to look at his drawing, and Jack praises our son’s art skills.

my mother follows me into the living room, and Luella stands to come show me her picture.

“look! mommy!” i crouch down, looking at her page of multicolored scribbles.

“it’s amazing, Lu! you did such a good job!” i tell her, my smile wide as i clap for her. she giggles and turns to show her grandmother the drawing, but my mom pays no attention to the art.

“oh, Luella.” my mother scolds. “look at your pretty dress, it’s all covered in popsicle. you have got to be more careful. and you shouldn’t have been eating a popsicle this early in the day.”

i roll my eyes. she can’t even help criticizing a two year old.

“she wanted one after lunch, and she did a good job with her food, so we gave her one, mom.” i tell her, my tone hostile.

“you need to stop giving them so much sugar.” she replies. “no wonder they have trouble listening. all that sugar and barely any adult supervision”

“they’re not your kids, back the fuck off.” i say lowly through a passive aggressive smile. “they have trouble listening sometimes because they’re children. and they have plenty of adult supervision.”

“i’m just trying to help you, y/n. lord knows you could use it.” she huffs. my eyes go wide as i look at Jack to see if he heard that, and i know he did because the muscle in his jaw ticks from clenching it. but i know he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to offend his mother-in-law.

“Jack.” my words are sweet, but venom drips from my voice, and i square my shoulders to prepare for an argument. “can you please take Luella to get changed? and take Eli with you.”

my husband jumps up at my words, corralling our kids into Lu’s room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” my tone is harsh as i attempt to keep my voice down. “those are my children. if i needed your help, i would ask for it. i’m sick and tired of you coming over here and making comments about our parenting or judging my husband for how he takes care of our family. Jack loves his job. he loves hockey. and yes, he has to leave sometimes, for a week at most, but he is the best father to our children.”

“y/n-” she starts.

“no! i’m not done. if you want to continue to be a part of their lives, you’re going to stop with the passive aggressive comments. you’re going to quit undermining our authority. and for the love of god, you are going to stop criticizing my children! you already fucked up my childhood and i will not let you ruin theirs.” i’m nearly yelling at this point, my anger reaching new levels. “do i make myself clear?”

my mother huffs, eyeing me up and down before nodding.

“good. now i’d like for you to leave. i would like to spend time with my children, whom i love very much, and their amazing and selfless father.” i tell her. my mom spins around, stalking towards the front door and i don’t move until i hear the door shut. it’s then that i finally let my shoulders slump, heaving out a deep sigh.

Jack steps out of the kids room, the children trailing after him as he makes his way over to me. his hands grip my waist as he pulls me against him, a smirk gracing his lips.

“that was kind of hot. like, seriously, how is my wife more badass than me?” he leans down, pulling me in for a kiss. his lips are soft and taste like the grape popsicle he shared with Luella earlier. “you did great, baby.”

“you think so? i wasn’t too harsh?” i ask, tears stinging my eyes.

“no. you said what needed to be said. i’m so proud of you for standing up to her.” he mutters against my lips.

“thank you, babe.”

-

-

[i9messi]

Can you do one of Messi’s daughter and Gabi babysit her brothers and gavi being scared because of what ciro said last time “I don’t want you to have a boyfriend” and he really wants his girlfriends brothers to like him? And can you have the boys be overprotective?

(I loved the idea, thank you so much.) Part one here

The Messi boys — Pablo Gavi

Word count — 928

gavi's masterlist

They’re just kids, that’s what you said to Gavi while you were trying to calm him down on the way to your parents' house. Your dad and your mom had gone on a date and asked you if you could take care of your brothers while they were gone. You undoubtedly accepted, you loved your siblings and you wanted to spend your time with them. Gavi knew how much you loved them, so he also wanted to be helpful and offered to go with you. However, for the Messi boys, the presence of your boyfriend wasn't a good idea.

Ciro was the least pleased that your boyfriend was there. Last time he saw Gavi, he was a little reluctant about you having a boyfriend. As soon as he had seen Pablo arrive he started asking him questions. You had laughed and tried to distract him while playing Uno. Gavi really tried to make the kids feel comfortable with him, because he loved you with all his heart and wanted to get along with the children.

But your brothers were too overprotective. In the moment Gavi tried to reach out to hold your hand, Ciro did not hesitate to separate your holding hands. The kid was angry and jealous, you were his sister.

"Don’t touch her!"

"We just wanted to hold hands, he’s my boyfriend, you know. It’s a thing couples do." you explained to the youngest, trying to calm the situation.

"Gross. I hate the displays of love." said your other brother, Mateo, imitating that he was vomiting.

"I dislike Gavi, I don’t like him." Ciro had no shame in telling you what he thought about the footballer.

"Ciro!"

In a few seconds your brothers had brought to light the problems they had with your boyfriend and it was no surprise. You had talked to your mom about that, after the visit you had made the last time. As much as you had tried to make them understand that you were an adult, they continued with their overprotection.

You looked at Gavi, who looked at Ciro without saying anything. When he felt the weight of your look you tried to tell him to take things slow, the children could be little devils when they wanted and they were testing him. In fact, they had tested him since he had arrived, asking him questions and trying to anger him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not be rude with Gavi?" You played the role of the big sister again.

The children were silent and they didn't say anything more to make things worse. A while later, you lost the game and as you urgently needed to go to the bathroom, you made the decision to leave your three brothers alone with your boyfriend. Maybe it was a bad idea, after the tension that was felt in the environment. You tried not to take long, but when you arrived, you heard them whispering. You hid behind the door so they couldn’t see you or notice you.

"Listen to us carefully, Spanish boy. We don’t like you and we don't want you to date our sister." Ciro said, speaking as if he were a film mercenary.

"Better tell us why we should give you a chance," Thiago proposed, in a much more gentle tone.

"Sorry, what?"

"Don’t make me repeat myself. You don’t want me wasting time with words."

God, you imagined your boyfriend’s scared face. You had convinced him that there was nothing to worry about, but now you doubted your own words. Gavi didn’t take long to talk, and when he did, he spoke very seriously and fearlessly.

"I love your big sister and want to make her happy every day of my life. I know she deserves the best and probably deserves a better guy than me— I was lucky that she decided to be my girlfriend. I don't imagine a life without her, she is my happiness and my everything. I want to give her everything."

There was silence, until Thiago spoke. "We’ll give you a chance, if you do something we don’t like we won’t hesitate to make your life miserable."

"Believe it, we’ll make your life miserable and you won’t like it." added Ciro.

"I understand, I promise I won't do anything if you decide to make my life miserable. I love your sister and I accept the consequences of my actions."

Gosh, Pablo was also a little dramatic. Between your brothers acting like mercenaries and Pablo being a Romeo, the whole scene made you laugh. Your heart melted too, his declaration of love was really cute.

"Okay, so we have a deal. Now you have to convince her to let us eat ice cream before bed." Ciro blackmailed Gavi and you had a hard time not laughing.

"Está bien, I’ll help you."

You waited until they finished their talk and you went back to them. You sat back at the table, while you watched them finish playing Uno. When the boys went to get something in their rooms, you took the time to talk to your boyfriend.

"Please... never leave me with them again. They’re really scary."

You smiled at him and whispered, "I forgot to tell you, my dad is an ordinary human being, but my brothers… they are devils."

Gavi left a kiss on your lips before your brothers came back and probably forced you to separate.

"You should let them eat ice cream, by the way." He told you in a whisper, still afraid of the kids.

[ari-gami]

Punkflower

So I've been itching to make some Punkflower fanfiction but i'm not too sure about my writing skills, so I'll post the first chapter here before i commit to AO3.

Summary: Hobie doesn't like the way Gwen handled the situation with Miles, especially after getting to know the guy better. It was messed up, and their friendship is on tense terms. Miles is still reeling from the emotional whiplash from Gwen, one minute feeling betrayed to being thankful, but forgiving her will be hard and he doesn't know if their friendship will ever bounce back into what it was. Luckily he has someone who has had his back from day 1.

"I Don't Like Your Girlfriend"

“You really like this guy huh?”

“Oh my god, shut up Hobie!”

“ I will when ya shut up about that spider from 1610.”

Hobie could see the light blush on Gwen’s cheeks as she turned her head with a huff. It was a bit endearing how her face would scrunch up at the thought of her own feelings, but Hobie knew she wouldn’t allow herself to admit them.

“You know it’s not like that.”

“You care a lot about him, Gwendy, you can admit that much.”

“That’s the scary part, Hobie! I can’t see him again and admitting to myself that I could have..feelings for him would just cause me more heartache. Also, Miguel wouldn’t..” she trailed off.

Hobie had a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s aware of the underlying statement. Miguel already thinks Gwen’s a liability if anything involving Miles Morales occurred, and he would not hesitate to throw her back into the very situation he saved her from if she tried to contact Miles. Gwen would be alone again, and this time, permanently.

He sighed and thought of what he would do if he had such a deep connection to someone, if he had what Gwen had. It's not that he doesn't have anyone close to him, he had Gwen and his bandmates after all, but the way Gwen described her bond with Miles made Hobie ache for something similar. To have a connection forged in mutual hardship, where both parties come out as changed people. To meet and have an initial spark so strong that it would set fire to all aspects of his life afterward. 

             If Hobie had been in Gwen's shoes, he wouldn't have stayed away from Earth 1610. He would've disassembled the watch to reverse engineer one for himself and jump right through the portal back into Miles’s world. (Not that he wasn't working on it now, he hates the idea of multidimensional travel being monopolized.)

             But Gwen was in a delicate situation and right now craved approval from adult figure- that's where they differed. Hobie could tell that if she had to choose between Miles and the Society, she would most likely choose the Society. The idea of that made him a bit sick, knowing that Miles would be betrayed and alone if Gwen didn't play her cards right. He would be all alone, just like Gwen had been, and the worse part, he might never know of the betrayal.

           He would give her time to make her decision, but Hobie would also be making his own. If Miguel starts shit with Miles for being an anomaly, Hobie would be there to help him. If Miguel decided that shunning Miles wasn’t enough and actively went to attack him, Hobie would do everything he could to stop him. The idea that the Society is trying to squash out an outlier to defend the so-called canon went against everything Hobie stood for. 

He just hoped that if it ever came down to Gwen sticking with HQ and Hobie with Miles, their friendship could be salvaged.

           From what Gwen shared, Miles was the type of Spiderman who couldn't be held down when he made up his mind. When everyone ganged up on him, he found a way to prove to them that he was capable of lifting the mantle. (Not that Hobie approved of the other spiders' methods. Actually, he hated the thought of them refusing to help him at such a low point in his life. He truly believes that Miles didn't need to prove himself because, in Hobie's mind, he proved himself by instantly jumping to help send the other Spiders back.) Miles went against everything thrown at him saying he wasn't ready and instead defied the expectations and did it his own way.

            That's pretty punk of him.

[wokecipher]

p. 1 // p. 2

After Weirdmageddon.

This is LONG so I'm just leaving it ALL under the line!

MORE ART AND LORE VVV

Things went bad. Like I mentioned in my previous post, Tony takes over and Anthony is put into hiding. Once Anthony comes back out, Tony is an adult and they are still a child.

Ann (Anthony's nickname) slowly grows up with Tony taking care of them. They're scared, alone, don't know what happened with Bill, and Tony is different now, not in a good way. Tony has been ruling over the Nightmare Realm (he's decided to ignore the threat of erasure for now, a rather horrible decision, but you do you I guess) for almost a decade. Not much time for the henchmaniacs or residents, but a long time for both of the twins.

Tony quickly shields Ann from the worst of it while Ann grows up, but is incredibly verbally abusive, alongside minorly physically abusive. Once Anthony is "old enough", Tony starts using them for help with "keeping everyone in line" and soon enough, Ann is doing all of Tony's dirty work.

Anthony is easy to keep on a leash, they're so scared of Tony rejecting them, they'll tolerate doing things for him even if it means hurting other people. Tony uses threats of abandoning Anthony often to keep them in line, too.

This goes on for millions of years, time starts losing meaning and both twins are also slowly losing their sanity and morals. The threat of the Nightmare Realm being erased is slowly feeling more an more real. It was billions of years off, originally, why should two kids care about that? That's unfathomably far away! But time passes, and that window starts closing faster and faster.

Tony is unconcerned, Anthony is terrified.

Tony refuses to do anything about it, Anthony is frantically searching for a solution.

And meanwhile, Tony is getting worse, she thinks power is the only meaning of existence, she's continuously horrible to everyone around her. Tony knew people wanted her dead, gone, but she never really expected her own sibling to turn on her.

Anthony attempts to assassinate Tony. The two get into a nasty fight, which ends in Tony dead and Anthony scarred. Anthony is left alone without the only person they'd learned to rely on for so long, and it leaves them near non functional.

They could not handle the things they had done for Tony, the things Tony had done to them, and now, what they had done to Tony.

They were haunted by this, horrified and shocked. They had to do what they did, they had to. Tony was making everything worse, hurting everyone, what was Ann supposed to do?

This is when The Axolotl finally presented themself to Anthony, with an irresistible deal too. All their crimes can be washed away if one day, Ann calls upon them. Anthony takes the deal, scared, alone, unknowing. and The Axolotl is pleased, and leaves Anthony to their own.

Anthony spends the next few hundred years sulking and minorly attempting to save the Nightmare Realm, these efforts are in vain however, and they eventually die one way or another. Maybe assassination, maybe the Nightmare Realm finally erases itself, maybe something worse.

It doesn't particularly matter how it happened, but it did, eventually, happen.

And they, alike to their father before them, was sentenced to a life in the Theraprism, making up for their crimes and misdeeds. Unlike their father, they will change, they will get better, they will improve.

They will be reincaranted.

I still do not know if the two will even be aware the other is there, I'll leave that to readers interpretation. If Bill knows Anthony is there, if Anthony knows Bill is there... if either meet? That's up to you!

Here's some extra art for your travels, friend.

[mswyrr]

an object in motion wishes to stay in motion: corrupt societies and the Capitol adults in THG

I wrote about here and here that I think of Ballad as a powerful depiction of the acculturation of a young person into a corrupt society. IMO, the quote from Frankenstein Collins chooses to start the book with very much supports that view. Coriolanus is still in formation, on the cusp of adulthood. He's deciding who he will be and his choices are all shaped by his society. But I think it also shows us, through the adults, what that looks like once it's become ossified. The adults show us why these books are about teenagers and their agency in how they treat other kids, rather than the adults.

They've become such a part of the perverse incentive structures of their society that they act them out almost thoughtlessly. Even Highbottom, who hates what he's done, sees no other choice besides slowly killing himself with morphling as he nonetheless perpetuates this thing.

In that sense, while the adults are responsible for what they do in shaping the next generation--and, with Snow, actually helping shape someone who will make things worse--they're acting out decisions made long ago. They help create a future that is in keeping with the sins they, in their turn, chose when they were young. And it's all for nothing; within a short period of time, this system will become so hollow that a slip of a girl with a bow can light the spark that sets it ablaze. It won't even outlive this child they're shaping. There's an overtone of dramatic irony to all of it.

1-Highbottom is a morphling addict who is rarely, possibly never, sober. When he looks at the child in front of him, all he sees is Coriolanus' father. There IS a possibility for things to go better - but he's so absorbed in the horror of a decade of watching children die due to his idea (an idea he NEVER meant to be realized) he can't see it, he won't do anything but push things further.

He's given up on life and just drags himself through the day, lashing out at the image of a man he hates in the face of a child. He is not capable--he has made himself and been made incapable--of the self-awareness and inner strength to change this story. That's partly why his death has bitter dramatic irony too it: Coriolanus kills him with the morphling he was slowly killing himself with anyway.

2-Strabo Plinth is a war criminal and an arms manufacturer who refuses to really connect with his own son, his only child. If he did, he'd have to look at what he is and what he's done. In many ways, his son is lost before his death because Strabo refuses to see; he wants the resources and power of the Capitol and refuses to see what a death of the soul it is and how someone like Sejanus just... can't live like that the way he can. There's too much truth in his own child's eyes. Like Highbottom, at first all he sees when he looks at Coriolanus is his father. In the end, though, Strabo gets the perfect Capitol scion son he always wanted, a boy who would never challenge him or make him look at his own sins; he gets that son in the form of the boy who got his own child killed.

3-And Dr Gaul -- obsessed with war and the necessity of control, her only legacy to find and shape a child to make sure the spirit of the war continues as long as possible. She's pretty clearly neurodivergent and seems prone to sadistic impulses. HOWEVER, there are plenty of neurodiverent, low empathy people and/or people who are sadists who never commit any crimes, who are decent people. I can only imagine what being neurodivergent in the kind of society the Capitol was in her youth was like. It's the kind of society that rewards people like Coriolanus' father. For someone with her brain - well, I can see why she came to believe people are fundamentally chaotic and violent and need to be controlled. It explained the things she must have gone through and it justified her desire to inflict pain on others. The war, as she says, was a gift. It proved her "right" about people and it made her skills in science very important. Finally, people saw the world as she saw it. Finally, nobody could push her around. She wants the Hunger Games to continue because she wants to keep pushing on other peoples' trauma so they don't forget she's right and don't stop seeing her relevance as someone who designs weapons.

And I think it's important that this idea of control that she believes in is one that Collins references in another quote, to Hobbes' Leviathian. As I wrote here, that kind of idea isn't simplistically evil at heart - other people historically irl who had seen war and chaos have truly believed in it too. There is evidence she's not seeing, about how she's applying pressure and creating the "human nature" she believes is there already - but it's not as if there's not plenty of experiences and povs of people who see it too. It's not as if the horror and trauma of how people behave toward each other (especially if, for some reason, a person feels cast outside the circle of community and acceptance) isn't a real thing people experience.

However, I think there's a bitter irony for her too - ultimately, Snow makes the Games such a success as an entertainment that younger people in the Capitol lose track of it as a memory of war, an object lesson. He keeps it alive, but her intent dies over time. Someone like Seneca Crane truly doesn't understand what this thing IS, what it is for, not even--in the films--when Snow tries to outright tell him the realpolitik of it. The thing Gaul feared happens: people forget and "chaos" overcomes her beautiful, violent order she wants to keep alive in Snow as an instrument of legacy.

4-Adult!Snow's legacy himself is of failure. Unlike Gaul and Strabo, he actually doesn't have a legacy for someone else to continue at all. Nothing of the schemes and ideas he gave his entire life to survives to rule. The chaos he feared wins and, specifically, it wins in the form of someone who is able to break the cycle truly - if the Games with Capitol children had been allowed to go forward--and it's entirely possible they could have! That's the thing; they're not "insane" people basing their bs entirely on nothing, there's reasons and experiences and a whole social structure of very real rewards and punishments motivating them-- that would have supported Gaul's and Snow's beliefs.* Instead, they are repudiated by Katniss ideologically as well as practically.

Why don't any of them do better in Ballad? For the same reason 84-year-old Snow cannot and will not: he's already committed. He doesn't even really see what is possible in the now, he's so stuck in the rut he's made for himself. Adults can change, sometimes, but they find it harder and harder to as they walk deeper into their lives, build themselves and their identities and their material comfort around certain ideas and practices. They are responsible for their actions, but they also made themselves instruments of this society, serving to perpetuate it for the survival of their own sense of self and for their material survival.

That's why, on a meta level, the main trilogy and the prequel have to focus on the choices of children coming of age. Psychologically and sociologically, they have a period of decision and possibility - not without intense pressures on them, but with more flexibility and room to change than most adults who are already committed and most prone to doubling down. And it's important that what Katniss ends is the Games - and that is the key thing Coriolanus kept alive - not exploitation, not greed, not the tendency of corruption and cruelty even within democracies. It is a challenge scaled to their age, about other people their age and younger, and fits with Collins' refusal to do superpowered YA leads.

Beyond the scope of the Games, Panem finds democracy and change. But not certainty. That doesn't exist in history, in their world or ours. We, like Katniss, simply have to remember "every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do" and choose and choose and know there's always a price to be paid, so you might as well pay it for what truly matters to you--as Katniss and Peeta did--instead of living in fear, as Coriolanus did. Choose and hope.

*It's not as if there aren't plenty of examples of revolutions where that does happen. If the only reason you're being moral is because you think other people will be nice and fair and just if you do, that -- doesn't necessarily hold out long when it meets reality. Reality doesn't "reward" decency like that. You have to do it willing to pay the price and not expecting a reward - that's why Coriolanus choosing not to pay that price is human even as it is awful and why Katniss kills Coin believing she will die for it.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

For @silvrash-797’s baby shower! :D Congratulations, girl!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Have some Ganondorf + kids, paired with Link + his daughter, paired with bedtime stories and yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy! ❤️

Ganondorf truly had found that of all his quests and grand plans, the most difficult missions in his life had been to reel in his children.

He loved them dearly, truly. But by the goddesses, they could push him to his limits. Having just tracked down his daughter, who was most certainly the troublemaker of his twin children, he had finally dragged her and her boyfriend back to the capital, keeping his temper evident but silent as he practically deposited them on the ground. Link’s coughing brought him no sympathy from the Gerudo king, though he clearly wasn’t looking for any. Hemisi was completely unapologetic, and it was immediately apparent that the pair’s disappearance had been her idea.

Of course it had. The girl was a menace; she had her father’s tenacity and fiery temper paired with her mother’s mischievousness. The girl was a spitfire and Ganondorf adored her for it.

Except when she snuck off to forbidden places with someone who needed to be resting. Honestly, getting Link to understand the meaning of self preservation was proving to be difficult enough, but pairing it with Hemisi’s seeming lack of concern for either of their well-beings made Ganondorf wonder what the heck he’d done wrong in raising his daughter.

Why did teenagers think they were indestructible? It was beyond frustrating.

Hemisi decided to try and test the waters. “Come on, Father. We’re fine, and it wasn’t even that bad!”

He didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t exactly punish Hemisi too severely since tomorrow’s plans were being set in motion by Nabooru right now, and he needed Hemisi for it. Instead, he just glowered at the girl before directing his ire at Link. The boy looked reasonably apologetic, but offered no feeble words to excuse himself, which was frankly a little surprising as he was the polite, placating one usually.

“Get in bed,” Ganondorf grumbled to the boy. “And stay there this time. I expected more obedience from you. Not to mention you’re risking Hemisi’s health by being near her.”

The way the teenager wilted gave Ganondorf a little satisfaction, but Hemisi immediately jumped to his defense. “Oh, stop it, Dad! He’s not going to get me sick too; he’s feeling better! You should’ve seen him fighting the monsters down there, he’s fine!”

Ganondorf briefly entertained the curiosity in his mind that wanted to see Link fight – he’d seen glimpses of it in sparring matches, but that wasn’t the same. Orik had managed to defeat Merovar in every fight, and he and Hemisi were equals. To see him in a real fight would be interesting. Nevertheless, the boy had sand fever, and though he was doing far better now than he had been the other day, there was still always a risk that he could get sicker again or worse, give it to Hemisi. “I don’t care for your excuses, Hemisi. I expected you to know better. You wish to be treated as an adult, yet you still make decisions like a child.”

Hemisi puffed out her chest, getting riled up. Link dragged himself into bed with some effort to try and appease the situation, and Hemisi hopped on the mattress just beside where he’d settled.

“No,” Ganondorf immediately ordered. “You, daughter, are sleeping in your own room.”

“I will,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes before her anger seemed to settle into something else. “But can’t we all just hang out a bit? Maybe you could tell us a story? We’ll exchange stories! I can tell you about what we saw down there.”

“You disobey my orders and think you can regale your disobedience to me like it’s a tale of legend?” Ganondorf snapped. “You are pushing my patience, Hemisi.”

“Father.” Now she was trying pleading, petitioning to his soft spot for her with her tone. “We were simply curious. And Link was going stir crazy.”

“Link is sick. He needs to rest.”

“With all due respect, my lord—“

“No.” Ganondorf interrupted the boy. “Be silent and go to sleep.”

Link’s mouth snapped shut, and he practically deflated, sinking into the pillows.

“Come on, Dad,” Hemisi petitioned more gently, something genuine in her tone this time. “We… we never get to all really just… hang out anymore, you know? The Festival of Colors has been so nice because we’ve all been together just having fun. Can’t you just tell us a story? I’ll even grab Merovar.”

“You know your brother isn’t interested in my stories anymore,” Ganondorf noted, far less annoyed and perhaps a little… he didn’t know. His chest felt tight at her words. Of course they hadn’t had much time – he’d had planning to do. The Triforce would soon be theirs, and then they’d have all the time in the world for each other. And he wasn’t at all upset in the slightest at Merovar outgrowing such moments like this. He wasn’t.

“That’s because he’s stupid,” Hemisi fired back dully, eliciting a laugh from her father. “Link and I will listen. You haven’t told me any stories in a while, and you’ve never told Link any.”

Ganondorf sighed a little, glancing at Link halfheartedly. He didn’t mind indulging Hemisi, but Link… well, there was little point in not doing so. Life was about to change a great deal for this child as well, and Ganondorf knew he would be lying if he said he didn’t care about him at this point. “Do you care for stories, boy?”

Link’s red eyes sparkled a little, curious. “If… you don’t mind.”

“Dad’s an amazing storyteller,” Hemisi noted supportively, elbowing Link and smiling at her father. Ganondorf felt his chest warm and swell with pride at it, and he finally sighed, letting himself smile a little.

This girl, honestly. He couldn’t stay angry at her. “Very well. I’ll tell you about the Dragon Huntress.”

Hemisi’s eyes widened as she gasped in delight. “Oh, I love this one! Get comfortable, Link, it takes eighty years for him to tell—”

“You just complimented my storytelling abilities.”

“I didn’t say it was bad, it’s just long! And that’s not a bad thing! We can sleep through some of it.”

Ganondorf didn’t bother hiding his unimpressed expression. Children always made for the most difficult audience, but he’d thought it would improve with teenagers. To his credit, Link still seemed eager and interested, so Ganondorf sighed heavily and settled on the edge of the bed.

“Very well. Long ago, in the distant past, there was a fearsome dragon. It dominated the skies, elusive and powerful, with teeth that could snap bones and a mouth that could swallow cities whole. There was a Gerudo warrior at the time who swore to hunt down the dragon and destroy it after it took her parents from her. But the challenge was that she was of the desert, and the beast of the sky – how could she possibly hunt down such a monster and destroy it?

“The challenge was a formidable one, but the warrior decided she would fulfill it. She had to leave the protection and familiarity of her homeland, moving from the oasis into the great sand sea to the south, where the dragon often roamed. At first, it was a long, grueling walk. The sun scorched her during the day, drying her throat so much it felt as if she were swallowing the sand itself. With every step she took she could feel the heat pulling away her energy. But with every dune she crossed, she grew more determined, for she would not let the desert conquer her before she could reach her target.

“After several days’ journey, the warrior crossed yet another dune to find a new curiosity. The desert was different here, with patches of different colors like paint droplets on a canvas. Just to the left was blue, filled with water like an oasis but surrounded by pink and yellow flowers. To the right was green, grass waving in the breeze only to be choked out by more sand just beyond its little borders. Everywhere she looked there was patchwork of nature, magic sparkling in the air like fireflies.

“‘What is this land,’ she wondered curiously, ‘where Farore can piece together every fabric of the world into one place like a quilt?’

“The warrior stepped from one patch to another, one moment feeling a cool evening breeze on her face, relieving her of the dry, hot breath of the desert, and the next, dipping her toes in mud, sloshing in marshland and getting a bitter chill. As she moved forward, she heard a small cry, and she saw a curious-looking little creature. Its tiny paws were dark as the night sky, but its coat was the color of sand, tail small and ears large. It was stomping into the earth with gusto, echoing a phrase over in frustration as it moved, scratching here, pouncing there.

“‘What is the matter?’ The warrior asked the creature.

“‘Why, I lost my marbles!’ The magical fox replied.”

Here, his story was interrupted with an amused snort from Hemisi, who giggled as if she hadn’t heard this tale before, giving Link seeming permission to chuckle a little as well. It had admittedly been a while since he had regaled anyone with the story of the Dragon Huntress, and it was… a nice reprieve to have this moment.

Ganondorf spoke on, telling the pair of the warrior’s journey with the creature to retrieve little magical stones that held pieces of the world within them. With each stone was a new adventure, with each recovery was a new discovery. For one stone, she had to traverse a land of fire, helping Mr. Salamander retrieve his stolen eggs from a local demon who had taken them, including the magical stone the warrior needed. In another adventure, the warrior had to learn how to breathe underwater, in another she sang so beautifully she moved a tree spirit’s weary, heavy heart and it revealed where one of the stones were. This particular tale was so long because it was showing how the warrior lost her way, how she spent so much time getting involved in retrieving these magical stones, and all the misadventures and creatures she had to assist in doing so diverted her from her main goal. The story never really had a true ending – when the warrior finally retrieved all twelve marbles, she simply… stayed with her fox friend in the magical land she’d discovered. It was a cautionary tale, in Ganondorf’s mind, to never lose sight of one’s goal.

He planned to not make the same mistake as the ancient warrior.

Surprisingly, Link stayed awake for the entirety of the folktale, while Hemisi steadily fell asleep on his shoulder. The boy’s body was sagging steadily in exhaustion, but he hung on to every word, a captive audience caught in the wonders of the descriptions Ganondorf was giving him. He smiled and laughed softly in certain parts, looked worried in others, but never interrupted, never faltered despite looking utterly spent from his adventures earlier in the day. When Ganondorf reached the conclusion of the tale, he picked Hemisi up (he knew the girl would wake up from the movement, but she didn’t protest being held on rare occasions) and tucked Link in.

“So she… never got to the dragon?” Link asked quietly.

Ganondorf paused in the doorway, considering it. “I’d like to think she did, someday. When she came to her senses.”

The world changed a few days later. Golden grace split into three, the fires of war scorched the land, and their lives changed forever.

But many years later, the King Consort of Hyrule sat in the nursery, his sweet little princess on his lap and held in his gentle embrace. He’d only just started talking again recently, but he wanted Sonia to hear him speak more, as she’d almost lost her voice due to his own silence. As such, he figured he could tell her stories at night, to help her settle to sleep. He’d gone through a couple Sheikah tales that he knew, but he admittedly didn’t have much repertoire in storytelling.

And then he remembered a Gerudo story from long ago. He remembered the cool desert night, huddled up against Hemisi, body aching from illness and exertion but heart full of peace and joy. He remembered Ganondorf, deep voice low and gentle instead of menacing and terrifying, face soft and eyes welcoming instead of harsh and threatening. He remembered his story of the warrior who hunted a dragon and lost her way in all the little quests to help others.

At first, he didn’t even want to tell this fable. It felt like the words would poison his mouth, like spreading something around that that monster had told him would somehow bring him back. His heart ached at even thinking of a time when he and Hemisi had been together, when he’d almost had a family. But there… there was no harm in regaling his daughter with images of Gerudo folklore. He couldn’t let the past keep hurting him so much. And he had a family now, right here, right in front of him. He wouldn’t let Ganondorf ruin that for him, for his daughter, for anyone. So he started in on the tale of the Dragon Huntress, and oh how Sonia loved it, how she excitedly emphasized points she enjoyed and how she giggled, how she grew peaceful with the rumble of Link’s quiet voice, how she settled in her father’s loving arms.

And as Link told the story to his daughter, he pondered over the message it relayed, how Ganondorf had insisted that it was a cautionary tale about keeping focus on one’s goal. But as Link spoke to Sonia of each new adventure the warrior went on, and all the people she helped, and all the friends she made, and all the new things she discovered, he started to realize the legend’s true meaning. It wasn’t until he got to the adventure of the graveyard of fireflies, where the warrior had to help her newest friend, who was grieving, that it truly struck him.

It had never been about losing one’s way. It had been about closure and learning to live again. The warrior had been risking her life on the chance of revenge, on eliminating a beast that had taken everything from her, but through her quest to retrieve the magical little marbles for her new friend, she’d discovered peace.

Link felt his own eyes sting as he finished up the tale, Sonia sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Years later, the little princess had grown into a young woman, with a family of her own. And she told the tale to her children, just as her father had told her.

Millennia later, in the ruins of a village in the desert, Ganondorf gazed at the fire, the new Hero of Hyrule sitting across from him. The other Gerudo had passed the time telling stories, and it seemed it was now Link’s turn.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know much,” the young captain started. “But Zelda had one story she loved a lot. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember the overall plot.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” one of the women prompted.

“It’s called the Dragon Huntress,” Link started, and oh how Ganondorf’s gaze snapped to him. Link didn’t seem to notice, wrapped in the blanket he shared with Lana; he’d captured his audience’s attention and that was all he cared about. It was strange, really, how different he was from…

Ganondorf bit his tongue, pushing away the overwhelming, nauseating pain in his heart.

“Long ago, a Gerudo warrior tried to hunt down a dragon that had taken her parents from her.”

Goddesses, how did the boy know this story? How did he know a Gerudo tale in a land where the Gerudo were seemingly forgotten? And he’d heard it from the queen?

Had… had that child… after everything…

“On her journey, she met a magical fox. He’d lost little stones, magical marbles, and she promised to help him find them. But each stone was in a different place, and each one required a different problem to solve. I remember a few, like the one where she had to sail across a giant river with an otter who captained a ship, and another one with fireflies, I think? But anyway, the point was that she spent all her time going on these adventures and making new friends, and she realized that she had been obsessing over something that was never going to bring her parents back. So she learned to be happy with what she had, and she learned to move on.”

She… but that wasn’t how the story…

“So she… never got the dragon?”

Goddesses, he hadn’t heard that boy’s voice in so long. He could still feel the weight of his precious daughter resting in his arms, could still see the tired, quiet curiosity in young Link’s eyes.

It had been so long, yet this story lived on. And it had lived on because Link had decided to tell it to his children.

She learned to be happy with what she had, and she learned to move on.

Ganondorf’s gaze drifted upward, following the sparks from the fire until they blended into the stars of the sky. He breathed in slowly, feeling his chest tighten, feeling his eyes sting, and then he let go with a deep, shuddering exhale.

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Your idea of all soul contracts being voided is very interesting and something I've also played around with/considered. It's a major systemic issue that makes life in Hell extremely difficult for those without power (which is most). If Charlie truly wanted to improve life for all sinners, including those who don't want to be redeemed, targeting that system of ownership would be key and I think it'd be a great progression for her character/mission. If Heaven won't play by their own rules, then give Hell the overhaul it needs that improves life for everyone and remove the possibility of soul ownership completely.

I do want to say, with regards to Valentino's behavior, I personally see him showing restraint in some circumstances. Yes, he SAID he wanted to go and shoot up the hotel but after his initial tantrum with the model, he just sat in his room patiently waiting for Vox. I think there is potential to reason with him, but it'd have to be through someone he trusted (Vox and/or maybe Velvette) AND he'd have to be calmed down first to help him move past the pull to impulsivity. He was also able to rein it in pretty well with Charlie even when she was bafooning it up in his studio, on his turf... I just think it would be fascinating to explore the Vees as potential forces/influences of change and how Charlie could incorporate them into her plan. You'd likely have to get them battered down enough to even be willing to negotiate, but end of the day they are business people and I think they can be reasoned with. Even just within exploration of the adult content industry... turnover is extremely high. Maybe Vox/Velvette could be shown the numbers dipping on Angel Dust's popularity and it would then be their job to convince Valentino to drop him. For them, it's money but maybe for Valentino it's power and then that can be explored in their respective character arcs (ie. WHY does Valentino want that power/what is he gaining from it)? There are so many interesting ways you can play with these themes/characters that isn't a boring "Valentino gets stabbed to death" plot point.

So, I really hope the show chooses the more complex exploration of these characters (and gives consideration to their respective backgrounds that may be influencing their decision-making) rather than reducing them to boring cartoon villains (I also hope to GOD they don't betray each other, I love that they have their own little family among the three of them).

Let us see Charlie trying to win them over to her cause. Let us see Charlie challenged with the idea that some people like the life they've made in Hell/don't want Heaven as endgame BUT that doesn't mean they can't improve their practices or help make life in Hell better for all. There's a lot of potential. I think it also really reinforces the main theme that everyone is capable of change.

This is all personal preference/morality, but for me I truly believe that everyone has the capacity to grow. Yes this includes Valentino. If there is "no hope" for some people and no one bothers to reach out because they're deemed irredeemable, then what incentive is there for them to ever get better? Why shouldn't they just become a worse and worse version of themself then, potentially victimizing and harming more people along the way? Approaching Charlie's school of thought where everyone can be redeemed with a plan that focuses on rehabilitating individuals (and breaking down what that means/how that varies person-to-person) is a natural next step. Understanding why someone like Valentino is the way he is, how the system of Hell has contributed to the problem on a societal level, and what tools he should be given to cope/make better decisions in the future WHILE also protecting his victims from additional harm are all critical steps that I think Charlie (and the show) need to start taking more seriously... if their plan is to really explore this idea of redemption, anyway. This would also apply to characters like Sir Pentious and Angel Dust. Everyone is in Hell for a reason, everyone has a past and a laundry list of wrong that needs to be addressed and given care. How many lives did Angel Dust ruin as a mobster? What had Sir Pentious even done prior to his stay in the hotel that landed him in Hell in the first place?

So much potential in all these characters. I really hope the writers really flesh them out. Sorry for going on too long at the end there, your comments just got me thinking.

Your idea of all soul contracts being voided is very interesting and something I've also played around with/considered. It's a major systemic issue that makes life in Hell extremely difficult for those without power (which is most). If Charlie truly wanted to improve life for all sinners, including those who don't want to be redeemed, targeting that system of ownership would be key and I think it'd be a great progression for her character/mission. If Heaven won't play by their own rules, then give Hell the overhaul it needs that improves life for everyone and remove the possibility of soul ownership completely.

Exactly. It is a huge systemic issue and if the show been greenlighted multiple season ahead of time, I'm sure there be an a subplot about it. As it something Charlie see how the contracts affect her people greatly and it would be a project she take on to change it. It's a huge undertaking as is basically restructuring the government that been running on the principle for multiple thousands of years. It's just how things are and she wants to change that.

The contracts originally was about a weaker demon seeking out the protection of a stronger demon to keep them safe from the rest of Hell in exchange of servitude. After several thousand years it evolves and got a bit more corrupted but the bases of it still exist. But the protection became more the overlord defending their territory/property.

Obviously the overlords are the ones that will suffer for it, despite it making things harder to the owned souls to exist in Hell and possibly unfair how they obtain it, (But also keep in mind, the deal was consented by both parties, both agreed.) it is unfair to the overlords when it just the the way things are and no warning of a sudden structural change. They are being punished/losing for playing the long game well while playing by the rules of Hell at the time. They were winning at a game and then the host decided it time to change the rules.

The overlords will:

1) lose their compensation after they held up their end of the deal.

2) lose a large if not all chuck of their power and status.

3) most importantly they will become targets after they were forced to give up their power and their numbers that would have defended them. Lets face it, once contracts get voided and overlords losing their power and status, a bulk of sinner will want to retaliate. Attack the overlord that held them or attack another overlord that they felt wrong them and now have the opportunity to do so when they are not overpowered.

This doesn't only effect the big honcho overlords we seen, there be smaller ones...mobs and gangs and what not. But considering the majority of characters we meet are overlords it would be interesting to see how they deal with this as an audience. Probably an overlord meeting about it if they got intel what was being plan and trying to derail it from happening, or a civil war among the overlords on the approach how to deal with it.

If there is a civil war about it, the overlords who still be upset but willing to work with Charlie/Lucifer would be Carmilla, Zestial, Rosie. They just generally to care about Hell and probably treat their souls fairly well. Rosie probably be least affected by it all. She owns souls, but I think her souls will still follow and look upon as a leader even after they been freed, and cannibal town will more or less run the same as it was before. Carmilla and Zestial would probably have a similar situation.

Unname overlord may be included in this.

The Vees will obvious be against it, and Zeezi might be on the undecided side but more on keeping things the way things are. She doesn't seem like she be an overlord to give up her wants and needs in favor for a better society if it can be avoided it.

Alastor will play double agent im sure. He always have like 3 hidden agendas he working at the same time that are his own her other peoples he force to follow. He be annoyed he lose his souls but then again, he would have his own freedom again.

The best possible solution I can think to fixing the infractractor to what Charlie wants, is to wean out the contracts. Creating a clean slate immediately would be problematic. Have the contracts expired in a decade. AND/OR if new contracts can still be made, have there be term limits. A soul can only be bind to a contract for X amount of years then it can be renegotiated or let it null and void. It be a hassle for the overlords for sure as the constantly, and make extra effort on treating souls better for the soul to want to remain under contract/protected while the other try to earn that spot. Possibly a guideline has to be drawn up to have a basic math for length of servitude. If the overlord provide x to the demon, the demon would serve x amount of years.

One thing I wonder is do overlords provide housing and such as part of their protection? Most sinners don't really seem to have jobs to afford housing and food. Most of the sinners we see are working in the guidelines of their contract. So how are they getting money for things? Is being provided with the necessities part of the protection?

But we have to keep in mind, we see how much the people regret their decision on selling their souls. It seem, like most if not all the people who sold their soul regret it. Its nearly common knowledge that its a bad deal to do it...yet...people still do it. They choose to go along and do it regardless thinking they were the special exception. So yes, they are a victim...but at the same time...are they?

I don't think the regret would not be an all time if its limited to a certain amount of years. That if it something they did regret, at least it there's a light at the end of the tunnel and not just a bleak all of eternity experience. Terms limits would at least have both parties put effort into the relationship if they are satisfied with the deal. Both parties have to put effort to want the other to stay in.

Not saying this can be the endgame solution but it can be a start down that path.

I do want to say, with regards to Valentino's behavior, I personally see him showing restraint in some circumstances. Yes, he SAID he wanted to go and shoot up the hotel but after his initial tantrum with the model, he just sat in his room patiently waiting for Vox. I think there is potential to reason with him, but it'd have to be through someone he trusted (Vox and/or maybe Velvette) AND he'd have to be calmed down first to help him move past the pull to impulsivity. He was also able to rein it in pretty well with Charlie even when she was bafooning it up in his studio, on his turf...

You have a point there. Valentino is a violently impulsive but your right, there was some points he did not act out immediately the way he wanted. He had his hissy fit and tore up a model before he sulked waiting for Vox advice. But I did forgot about Val calming down slightly and waiting for Vox. I also forgot about episode 4 completely. Honestly, it makes his character better that he able to reign in some of that impulsive violent nature. It would make the lost of Angel dust contract better. Im sure Val would trash the room the moment he lost is but after thrashing about to calm down he just be seething without acting out on it. Which...I sort of want to see now. I'm sure there still need to put precautions about Val retaliating. Val would want revenge even if he lost the contract fairly. Val would want to send a message hes not someone to fuck with but perhaps he won't actually act upon it like he would want to. At least wouldn't be a blind tantrum rampaging retaliation if he did act out a little.

I just think it would be fascinating to explore the Vees as potential forces/influences of change and how Charlie could incorporate them into her plan. You'd likely have to get them battered down enough to even be willing to negotiate, but end of the day they are business people and I think they can be reasoned with.

True, very true. Vox and Velvette are fairly level headed people. Well, except about Vox isn't when it comes to Alastor.

Which makes me wonder...

If Vox losing his shit about Alastor

Val losing it about Angel

Who makes Velvette lose her shit about? Can't wait for that character to be introduced.

Even just within exploration of the adult content industry... turnover is extremely high. Maybe Vox/Velvette could be shown the numbers dipping on Angel Dust's popularity and it would then be their job to convince Valentino to drop him. For them, it's money but maybe for Valentino it's power and then that can be explored in their respective character arcs (ie. WHY does Valentino want that power/what is he gaining from it)? There are so many interesting ways you can play with these themes/characters that isn't a boring "Valentino gets stabbed to death" plot point.

That would be actually pretty interesting to see. Angel losing popularity. Probably caused by his stay at the hotel. Having the other Vees try to talk Val on not using Angel so much with them going by the numbers and trending.

Actually, Angel being in the hotel might making him almost an embarrassing cringe meme at some point and Velvette and Vox trying to talk Val not using Angel so tarnish their brand. Because they want to be trending in a good way. I don't think Val wouldn't give up the contract because I think Val really likes having Angel around for himself even if Angel not a big income anymore. Maybe Angel becoming a joke and not a money maker Val would hesitantly accept an offer for Angel soul if the payout was big enough.

Even if it not dramatic, I kind of want this play out now. It like the safest and agreeable way to end the terms without much fear of retaliation.

I think it be really sweet way to play out. The hotel residence, and Cherri if she hasn't joined, chip in with everything they have to buy Angel freedom. Lucifer, Charlie and Alastor able to contribute more and possible offer something with more weight like a restricted favor at a given time. Angel would be so grateful and feel so love that everyone did it, that if they felt like a family to him before it only furthered it. It also open up to some Angel angst if favors were offered and the Val request wasn't agreeable to the one giving the favor but has to serve out anyways. Angel would feel so much guilt over it.

So, I really hope the show chooses the more complex exploration of these characters (and gives consideration to their respective backgrounds that may be influencing their decision-making) rather than reducing them to boring cartoon villains

I am a huuuuuge sucker for backstory and character growth. I love character growth. Even if they don't grow, I like how we eventually learn of their back stories to understand why they are the way they are. Make you sympathise with them even if you don't agree with their methods.

I hate black and white/ right and wrong anything..I love how everything grey and having that explored. I mean, the vast majority of people are not evil or good for the sheer sake of it. It usually stems from something that propels people in that direction.

My favorite trope is a villian is sort of in the right in their own way but they went about it wrong. Basically the ends justify the means.

(I also hope to GOD they don't betray each other, I love that they have their own little family among the three of them).

That....never crossed my mind. I would feel so betrayed myself if that would happen. I love their little family. But if one would betray, its Velvette. But it better not happen. They need to stick together! Even if I suspect Velvette be the one out of the three to betray, I doubt she will. Phone Case as evidence. Vox and Val phone case is their own personal brand symbols while Valvette is about all three of them. She probably the biggest heart of all of them and makes them stick together.

Let us see Charlie trying to win them over to her cause. Let us see Charlie challenged with the idea that some people like the life they've made in Hell/don't want Heaven as endgame BUT that doesn't mean they can't improve their practices or help make life in Hell better for all. There's a lot of potential. I think it also really reinforces the main theme that everyone is capable of change.

I been thinking about this exact thing SO MUCH lately. I wanted to make a post about it but didn't end up doing it.

Like, Alastor is a prime example of this. He doesn't want redemption. Giving the life he had, he probably never felt so freeing until he landed in Hell. In life people scampered away or looked away in disgust and hatred because of his heritage, he was taken advantage because of heritage and social standing. He had to hide his identity behind radio to be able to converse freely without judgement and treated equal. The activities he enjoy he had to keep secret. But in Hell? people scamper away out of fear of his power, he can indulge in all his deplorable actives he enjoy. He can force people to listen to him. Hell was freeing for him. It's everything he needs and wants aside not being with his mother. He doesn't want redemption. He doesn't want to give up his fun and entertainment. He doesn't want to give up his power and status. It's Hell, hes going to have his bad days especially with his shackles but overall how he going to enjoy heaven for eternity if he bloodthirsty and enjoys annoying people without receive retaliation?

Even if he makes it to heaven...it be similar to his life on Earth. His power would be equal or lower of the residence of Heaven. They will learn how heinous he once was. They will be disgusted by him and move to the other side of the street to avoid him. He be happy to see his mother...but can he really bring himself to her after...everything? Her having the knowledge of everything because word would get around. She may work past it, but Alastor would feel that her eyes won't look at him the same way as it once before. It pains him greatly. It pains his mother having that knowledge. Heaven not suppose to hurt. He can't have the both of them suffer like that. It's best that she remains in the dark of his deeds because whatever worst case scenario she can dream up about her sweet little boy it wrist slap compared what he actually committed.

He doesn't want redemption...

...but it doesn't mean he can be rehabilitated which I think has already starting to happen. He curb his activities for the image of for the hotel. He hides his particular diet from their eyes to not disgust them. He still gets to indulge and commit murders but now its more reserved for the defence of the hotel and its residents. He always had his own moral code when it came to his murders. But it seem like he hasn't "hunted" since he been at the hotel because he didn't want it getting back to Charlie and disappoint her or ruin the hotel image IMO. So, I think we already seeing Alastor being slowly rehabilitated without him or anyone realizing it. The longer he there the more he going to feel fond with the other residence and continue to change some of his habits for their benefit.

This is all personal preference/morality, but for me I truly believe that everyone has the capacity to grow. Yes this includes Valentino. If there is "no hope" for some people and no one bothers to reach out because they're deemed irredeemable, then what incentive is there for them to ever get better? Why shouldn't they just become a worse and worse version of themself then, potentially victimizing and harming more people along the way? Approaching Charlie's school of thought where everyone can be redeemed with a plan that focuses on rehabilitating individuals (and breaking down what that means/how that varies person-to-person) is a natural next step. Understanding why someone like Valentino is the way he is, how the system of Hell has contributed to the problem on a societal level, and what tools he should be given to cope/make better decisions in the future WHILE also protecting his victims from additional harm are all critical steps that I think Charlie (and the show) need to start taking more seriously... if their plan is to really explore this idea of redemption,

I agree. For Charlie to really move forward with her redemption she needs to start trying to get to the root of the problems. Trust falls isn't going to be the answer. I think she been hesitate because she doesn't want to push boundaries which is a good thing and to extent is working. They feel safe and relatively there's trust and strong bonds....but at the same time...its not solving much either. But progress is progress I suppose no matter what speed.

What had Sir Pentious even done prior to his stay in the hotel that landed him in Hell in the first place?\

Seriously, What did he do?! He such a cinnamon roll.

So much potential in all these characters. I really hope the writers really flesh them out.

There is a lot of potential and I think that what make this show fun! We only know so much about them so it really fun trying to fill in the blanks and figure out their motives. I don't think any of them are meant to be 2 dimensional or plot devices but have several layers. That even the seemingly simplistic character will have complexity. I just hope the show keeps getting renewed so we can be offered everything the creator wanted to give.

Sorry for going on too long at the end there, your comments just got me thinking.

It's okay. It's a delight to know that my rambling can do that. That they might inspire or help someone get creative about the fandom. I only made this blog to just get ideas out of my head of what I'm hyper fixated on which is currently, Hazbin. I didn't really expected anyone would actually read it much less, like or interact with it. I just find it surprising when it happens but brings me joy that my words and thoughts seem to have some meaning to someone.

[assassin-artist]

ok lore dump time for Valerie now :3c

Real name Valerie Hart, mutant code-name name "Mercy".

My saddest and my most OP character... Originally I made her to be super powerful cuz I just wanted to have fun exploring what it'd be like to have basically a god-on-earth kind of character running around doing whatever she pleased, but then I decided I wanted to explore how her powers could actually damage her in the long run, and how tragic it could be.

So, my idea is that her mutant ability was basically to "wish something into reality" aka to believe something into existence. Do you know how hypnotism works? It's both real and not real - a hypnotist simply makes a "suggestion" for your brain to follow, and if you genuinely believe it's real, then it works! Sort of similar to the placebo affect. This is basically what I wanted her powers to be like - if she genuinely believed something to be true, then it would become reality. Crazy OP, right?

But then I thought, well, everyone goes through periods of self doubt and losing confidence, you know? Teenagers who are unsure about themselves, adults who lost at something and begin doubting their abilities, etc.

When Valerie's powers first manifested at around 10 years old, her father, a scientist, became afraid of his own daughter. He loved her dearly, but thought that no human being should ever wield a power like hers. There, he first planted the seeds of self-doubt in her mind... the idea that there was something wrong with her. Her father was the one who made the call to Xavier's to come collect his daughter, where she was tearfully taken away to her new home.

Though she became an X-Man member at around 20 years old, an unfortunate string of mistakes led to her losing more and more confidence in herself. Eventually, all of it piled up onto her beginning to believe what her own father had told her all those years ago: there is something wrong with her. And as her power works, if she believes it to be true, then... it becomes reality.

Valerie's mental health began rapidly deteriorating afterwards. At around 26 years old, the other X-Men showed concern for her health and wellbeing, citing that she was losing control over herself and her powers. She lashed out in fear and anger, and was forcefully put on an indefinite medical leave.

"Just until you get better," they'd say with a sad smile. She knows she won't.

Though they made this decision trying to help her, it only added fuel to the fire burning inside her. If everyone else believed she was losing herself, then she would believe it too. She believes she's getting worse, her powers manifest so she really does get worse, she sees that she's getting worse, and she continues to believe it. An unfortunate downward spiral that she can't see an end to. She was bitter about it in the beginning, but eventually just accepted it.

Every day, she's worse than before. Sometimes the days bleed together and she confuses her memories for current conversations, and seems unable to tell the difference between dream and reality. Now she's afraid to use her powers for fear of doing something she hadn't meant to do, or of hurting people she doesn't want to hurt.

The others, her old team members and new students alike, try their best to cheer her up with companionship, hoping that making new, happy memories will help her get out of this spiral. It doesn't seem to be working, but she appreciates it all the same. She hangs around Xavier's school, sad and afraid, slowly slipping away out of reality altogether.

Her personality is very mellow, largely keeping to herself. She works as a healer now in Xavier's school, still wanting to help people however she can. She doesn't talk much, but she doesn't like being alone either, so she always seeks out someone's company at all times. She spends a lot of time around Hank McCoy - in the beginning, it was because he was trying to cure her 'affliction', but these days it's largely just because she enjoys his company (neither of them will mention that he seems to have stopped trying to fix her - they both know how this will end). When the X-Club is formed after M-Day, I like to imagine she spends most of her time in the lab with the scientists. She's not a genius like them, but sometimes she can still use her powers to help in small ways. She's one of the few people with the patience to deal with Dr. Nemesis's arrogant personality, so they grew close. He won't say it aloud because he's too prideful to admit he cares about anyone, but he's desperate to find a way to fix her as well.

[sokkastyles]

Not only is the idea that Zuko is dumb a lie put forth by his abusers, but I also think it is important to analyze the moments when he is called dumb, and how Zuko believing he is stupid makes it easy for him to be abused and controlled. Azula is the one who we often see call him "dum-dum," but I'm certain that idea originally came from Ozai. This is also why I don't see certain things Azula says as harmless or altruistic. I'm thinking of a few places in particular where Azula calls Zuko dumb.

One is when she is trying to get their mother to make Zuko play with her so she can play a mean trick on him. Ursa says it would be good for them to play together, and Zuko says he doesn't want to cartwheel, because he knows what his sister is like and that she probably has an ulterior motive than just wanting Zuko to play with them (which she does have). Zuko bringing up cartwheeling also means that he might have seen Azula and Ty Lee cartwheeling at the beginning of the scene, where we see Azula push Ty Lee for doing a better cartwheel than her. What Zuko actually means when he says he does not want to cartwheel is that he does not want to be pushed like Ty Lee was. What he's really saying to his mom, without having the actual words, is that he does not want to play with his sister because he knows that doing so will get him hurt. Azula responds with "cartwheeling isn't a game, dum-dum." Which seems like a typical sibling banter moment if you ignore the pattern of abuse Zuko is living with, and how him believing he is stupid is used to abuse and control him. So here, his concerns about playing with Azula are ignored and dismissed by making him look stupid and irrational. And so Azula gets her way and used Mai and Zuko to humiliate them both. This seems like a minor incident, but it gets worse when the kids get older.

Another scene where Azula calls Zuko "dum-dum" is when she is telling him not to visit Iroh in prison. I know many people want to argue that Azula was being caring to warn Zuko here, but the thing is, as unsafe it might be if Zuko were caught by Ozai visiting Iroh, Zuko is even less safe with Ozai and Azula. In reality, Iroh is the only one protecting him. Azula knows this, and knew she had to seperate Iroh and Zuko in Ba Sing Se in order to capture Zuko. She also knows that maintaining control over Zuko relies on keeping him distant from Iroh. So what she says, despite being phrased as a warning, actually becomes a subtle threat, and combined with Azula calling Zuko "dum-dum," reinforces the idea that Zuko is too stupid to make decisions for himself and that keeping him seperate from Iroh is for his own good, when in reality, it is keeping him isolated from the one adult who cares for him and easier to control by those who want to abuse him.

Another scene I'm thinking of where Azula calls Zuko dumb is when Zuko begins to question the official story of what happened to Sozin. Azula insults Zuko's intelligence for questioning Fire Nation propaganda. And the thing is, not only is Zuko right, but Zuko also learns that believing the Fire Nation propaganda was also a tool used by his abuser to keep him under control, which is why he confronts Ozai with it along with the ways that Ozai has hurt him more personally.

Zuko actually is smart, but it's not a coincidence that the people most invested in wanting him to think that he is dumb are those who want to abuse and control him.

[bleeding-star-heart]

I've heard Gale's Folly compared to the Pope, but I personally have a different analogy for it

The first comparison that came to my mind for the Gale/Mystra situation was that of an autistic man dating/sleeping with his boss. A toxic situation to be sure. He wants a promotion from his boss, but she won't give it to him. So, the man decides to get his girlfriend/boss a lovely diamond necklace as a present. Only, the place he chooses to find this necklace is Craigslist. And well, buying a necklace off of Craigslist goes about as well as anyone would expect. The man meets up with the seller, but it turns out there is no necklace, just a bag of cocaine/heroin/whatever. Which the seller dumps on the man/Gale just as he leaves, but not before filling the man's body with bullet holes. The boss/Mystra, rather than show compassion to her boyfriend or appreciate the romantic gesture he tried to do for her, abandons him and tells him it's his fault he got shot. Leaving the poor man to deal with his injuries and the pile of illegal drugs he is now in possession of on his own. That was before I found out about the Elminster connection and Mystra being able to spy on Gale through the Weave. Ironically, though, I think those things strengthen the analogy. See, Elminster in this situation is equivalent to the boss's ex setting her up with a much younger man (a.k.a. Gale the autistic boyfriend). And by "much younger" I mean Mystra is in her forties while Gale/autistic boyfriend is 18, 19, early 20s at oldest. No, the boss did not meet said boyfriend as an adult. She knew him back when he was still a precocious preteen. And the Weave? Simple-the boss in this scenario also happens to live together with her autistic boyfriend, so she has access to his internet history/can simply look over his shoulder. Meaning she is fully aware of her boyfriend's dumb decision to buy jewelry on Craigslist-she just let him do it anyway despite (unlike said boyfriend) knowing better. Complicity which only makes the sting of her abandonment worse.