#and are being fed trash and lies. it hurts so bad to me

[skitskatdacat63]

I wish AI images didn't make me so intensely upset. Just the existence of them bothers me a lot, because it's just clutter without meaning or emotion or any genuineness. But recently something happened that made me very upset, and I feel so irrational saying this, but it really gave me this sick, heart-wrenching feeling, and I wish it would stop. My mom was looking through Facebook, and showed me this image of birds that to me was so obviously AI. But she wasn't 100% sure it was fake, only telling me after I had told her it was definitely AI, that she had been a bit unsure about it.

I hate how intense my feelings are about it, bcs it made me want to irrationally almost infantalize her without meaning to. It just made me overwhelmingly sad that this is state of things. That people are being fed this imitation, this trash, and aren't familiar enough to recognize it all the time. Every time I think about it, it hurts my chest.

[fluffypotatey]

Shadowpeach's reaction to believing the other is dating again

ANON I AM SO SORRY T^T i meant to reply to this the moment I read it then got distracted and now it’s almost 1am (edit: it is now 1:30 lmao)

anyway,

you have come to ask me, a girlie who is a sucker for unhealthy shadowpeach and long time lover of the jealousy & possessive tropes, about shadowpeach’s hypothetical reactions of the two monkeys believing the other is back in the dating scene?

well, obviously, they would be completely fine. absolutely no negative reactions or breakdowns or obsessive thoughts hindering their ability to function and be mentally healthy. of course.

jk i lied: THEY WOULD BE SO HORRIBLE LMAO

however, i feel like swk would be more subtle about it. like maybe he hears something out of context said by MK or Mei or Tang or Red Son or Sandy (who might have also jumped to the same conclusion) and is like “oh……” and then is oddly quiet for maybe a month, freaking out MK

also, SWK would have his own internal battle of wanting to see Macky to confirm but also not wanting to see Macackle because the confirmation would break him. but he would make so many excuses to see Macaroon by visiting Pigsy’s noodle shop then chicken out when the time does come (the funny part of me says that Pigsy is the only one aware of SWK’s true intentions and is very annoyed about it)

the anger doesn’t really come until SWK feels fed up with Macaroni’s “mixed signals,” meaning Macky’s very bad attempts at being civil/flirting. because “if Macky thinks he can just use my feelings while being in a relationship he can think again!” (despite Macky never being in a relationship but Wukong never confirmed this so is mad for the sake of this hypothetical SO and himself while struggling with his own very messy feelings. because he likes it when Mac has his attention on him, he likes it when Mac tries to woo him the same way he had tried when they were younger and ignorant, he likes it when Mac cannot help but look at Wukong, he likes it when he makes Mac forget all about that stupid significant other because Wukong and Mac used to be something and could still be that something if Mac just gave Wukong a chance or if they had never ended their old relationship like the way they did. if only, if only, if only, if only, if only—

with Macky, ahahahaaaaaaa hoo boy.

not subtle. very unsubtle. like, yes, even Wukong can see and notice Macky’s very unsubtle and unstable self but unlike everybody else who is aware of the reason, Wukong would just be confused on why Macky is always weirdly snappy and grabby and always feel the need to mention Wukong’s love life????

anyway, Macky would not react well. 1) because it feeds into his angry theory that Wukong found their relationship to be superficial and temporary 2) he has been revived for, uh, *checks watch* not very long, so imagine going through a severe break up and dying them being resurrected and trying to enact revenge on your ex (of whom the feelings are still too raw) but you’ve been out of time for so long that you cannot process shit 3) it is my belief that Macky had nobody else as close to him as Wukong was

so, Macky hearing through the very botched grapevine that Wukong is back in the dating scene? man’s is not handling it well. house/apartment/whatever establishment he was staying in is trashed. he replans his revenge against Wukong. he stalks Wukong obsessively bc he has to see that bastard in the act because maybe then he’ll be free. he would sabotage any and all attempts of demons, humans, whoever that whispers about pursuing Wukong because….reasons

(obviously the reasons are not the fact that Wukong moving on terrifies him, the fact that he can be so easily replaced hurts, the fact that he cannot let go despite everything, the fact that Wukong still smiles the same, that Wukong still laughs the same but it’s so much lighter, that he understood what it was like to be loved and cared about by Wukong. to have all of his attention on Macky, to hold him so gently even though these same hands could break him (and have), to be treasured and desired by someone so powerful. how could Mackarell give up something so precious? he is still selfish and has been deprived for f that love for too long. why on earth would he ever wish for someone else to have a piece of what he once had?)

so yeah i’d say they would be coping sO well :)

[edgessunflower]

This is who I am

Pairing: Rey Mysterio x Fem autistic reader

Description: Rey stands by your side after seeing you confront your biological father

Gif credits to @laknxght

You felt many emotions that were held in for the majority of your life surface and memories flood through you when you open your locker room door to see the man who had caused so much suffering and pain in your life. The rage came flooding over you after he walked in saying he was proud of you making a name for yourself which only added fuel to the burning fire as your fists clenched knowing if you were to use physical force you would likely be suspended or lose your job chugging water before staring at him as he locks eyes with you while Rey was in the ring with Edge and Randy Orton in a tag team match against Triple H, Bautista, and Christian not knowing the emotional, trauma filled, and wound opening confrontation taking place backstage between you and the man who left you and pretended you didn't exist until out of the blue he was here and pretended he gave a damn when he didn't care at all seeing through the act he was putting on stopping him as he said he wanted to be in your life "You had a chance to be years ago when I was younger and there was still time for me to not really realize how bad of a person you were and change to be in my life but you fucking threw that chance away like trash and you pretended i wasn't even fucking alive!" you hadn't realized that the match was done and that rey and the boys won walking backstage in disbelief by the big win but stop hearing yells from your locker room. "You saw me when I was twelve years old and lied about knowing me at all because you wanted to get drugs from your friends in the store fucking parking lot!" you follow him in the hall where the boys saw the two of you "You left a woman and two kids alone to fend for themselves and you didn't give a fuck whether we were safe, fed, taken care of, or even alive you only cared about your pills and drugs, you don't know me!" rey feels the emotions pour out of you and his heart breaks at the tears forming in your eyes knowing about all the pain this man had caused you for so long grabbing a seething edge when your father grabs your arm as you turned away but you respond quickly "I'm a top wrestler in the women's roster and the whole fucking universe of WWE history, I've helped people who have autism like me who didn't have the care and support I did growing up, I have friends who've filled my life with joy and they're family, I've met the most wonderful man in my life who has and would never hurt me in anyway especially how you've hurt me for the past 22 years! I'm 25 and I haven't seen you since I was three and all you did was tell mom how much of a burden we all were to you and I've blamed myself for all of it and suffered in pain because I was so afraid of being like you but I've learned that I can take what I have of you in me and make good from it which is what I've done and what I will do for the rest of my life and that includes you never coming back on my life, I've been fine without you I didn't need you then and I don't need you now". "The only change is that I know the truth which you can't change no matter how much you lie and that I actually get to say bye this time, this is who I am and you didn't have no part so goodbye, stranger" you walk away as the tears flowed looking to see the boys before edge and randy personally escort him out while you quietly cried in rey's arms "I'm proud of you I love you mi girasol" the two of you share an emotional tender kiss laying your head on his shoulder when edge and randy come back sharing two warm hugs with them before you and rey watch Eddie's match against Matt Hardy "I love you, thanks for loving me no matter what honey" he wraps his arms around you pulling you in his lap with your hands intertwined and head on his chest smiling when he'd press a kiss to your forehead.

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Alya & Nino (commission for miner249er)

Fourth chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission

Chapter Summary: The truth is harsh. Teens are harsher.

Previous Work

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Truth.

As an aspiring journalist it was something Alya strived for. It was the most important thing she could give the people who followed her so diligently. She thought she had been giving them that. She had been so good about giving them the truth, her truth, and Ladybug’s truth in the past, she foolheartedly believed she was continuing to do so despite taking shortcuts later on in the road. Why didn’t she fact check herself? Why did she throw that very thing in Marinette’s face? What kind of reporter was she? What kind of friend was she? The answers were all around her and yet she still wasn’t ready to face them head on. There was still that voice in her head that was telling her that this was all Lila Rossi’s fault. 

But is it? Alya thought as her and Nino ate together at her house, the TV on in the background. At first it had been on the news but Alya was done with the news for a long while, all it had been was coverage of The Protector and Nino had immediately taken the remote and changed it to cartoons. This was hitting him hard, harder than Alya had expected if she was being honest. When they found out Ladybug and Chat Noir had, in fact, not defeated The Protector and instead the akuma, that Marinette had gone missing, it hit the class hard. Hard because they learned the truth about Lila in that time and that had been rough to work through. Then they had to come to the realization that they believed Lila over Marinette, the sweet, kind, selfless girl that had all at one point been friends with. 

Then the lies got to them. It poisoned them. That’s what Alya had written on her blog anyways. They were victims of a silver-tongue and they had paid the price, one they had not been prepared to pay for. Their friend was missing, had been missing and they couldn’t do anything. Alya had been searching through as many local papers and news around the world for any clues if Marinette had possibly gone to those places. Everything was coming up empty. She had even made a separate website along with Max all about Marinette and what had happened, she left ways to reach her and her classmates in case anyone had any info. Nino said they should have added Tom and Sabine’s information as well but Alya was too scared to ask them if they would be okay with it, last time they had all been at the bakery the tension had been palpable. 

They weren’t banned like Nathaniel had worried they would be but every time they went in with their families, because that was the only time they went in there, it was always awkward. Tom and Sabine were much too nice to ban them even if they felt like they deserved it. How did everything go so wrong? Even school wasn’t as fun as it had been. Walking into their classroom was like taking a walk of shame, people from other classes, even teachers just stared at them. Some even glared. Then there were the whispers, Dieu the whispers, they followed them everywhere not just school, but they were the most prominent there. Her, Nino, and their classmates would find notes in their lockers, none were really threatening but they tore at her heart all the same. Things like, ‘You’re the reason she’s gone,’ or, ‘Are you guys proud of yourselves now?’ ‘Were the lies worth it?’ ‘You traded in a gem for fool’s gold.’ ‘What a reporter you turned out to be.’

All the notes hurt. That was the truth. That last one? She had found it in her locker this morning and it burned. Alya had been bullied before, she never liked to think about it, who would? But she was and she had to acknowledge it because she had told herself she would never allow herself to be bullied again, and most importantly, she would never turn into a bully. Wrong. She was wrong, and it wasn’t the first time she had been made aware of this since everything happened. Since everything changed. It was a blessing that Nino and her were still together, he never partook in the “tough love” the class had been giving Marinette before she...before she had been akumatized. Sure he didn’t stop them, and that was bad, but he didn’t go out of his way to not invite her to things until she stopped being “jealous” and started acting like the bigger person. Nino wasn’t the one who ignored her text messages, which now that Alya read them, were pretty telling that her friend had been hurting and she had only made that worse. 

“What are you thinking about babe?”

Alya looked up from her half eaten bowl of soup to see Nino gazing at her in concern. “Marinette.”

“Oh…” He breathed out as he put his spoon down and looked down at the table before placing one of his hands on hers and giving her a small smile. “Everything will be okay Alya. Someone will find her and then she’ll be back home.”

Empty words. Empty words fed to him too much from adults who didn’t have any updates on anything. “You don’t believe that. And even if she did...who's to say she would even want to talk to us!? What’s to say that anything would be better? We would still be seen as the bad guys! We will still all have to eat lunch at our houses or the park just to avoid the stares and the whispers and the tossed trash our way and the “accidentally” spilled drinks!”

Alya had never understood just how much their class had been living in its own little world. Not to say they were completely unattached to the rest of the school, Alix, Nathaniel, Rose, Chloe, and Sabrina were in the art club (the art teacher and the rest of the club had made a mural of Marinette without notifying them or asking for their help. Everyone is encouraged to leave notes about Marinette on the mural. The art room even has a chair decorated in honor of Marinette that no one else can use. That was announced very pointedly Alix later shared.), Rose was in the scrapbooking club (no one asked to use her materials anymore like they used to), and Max was in the gaming club which Marinette had helped him set up (people weren’t showing up lately.) They weren’t kicked out, but they were reminded of Marinette all the time,it was like everyone’s way of punishing them. It had never occurred to any of them how popular Marinette was.

So popular that the whole school seemed to hate them. Even Mlle Mendeleiev seemed to be harsher than normal and that was really saying something, it would seem like she had a soft spot for Marinette. In their class everyone avoided Marinette’s seats in class, Alya had to step up as class representative but the silver lining was that Nino had stepped up to be her deputy. Though another negative was the fact Nino had stopped making his music and taking DJ gigs. At first he hadn’t said anything to her or their friends, Alya found out because of Chris actually, but then her and Adrien confronted him and he broke down. He cried and he didn’t stop for a long time, but when he had calmed enough to talk he pulled out old pictures of him and Marinette, told them stories about how they had grown up together. It had made the pit in Alya’s stomach grow, she had just been thinking about her and how much she blamed herself and how much she missed her best friend, she hadn’t even thought how this was affecting Nino.

“I...I need to believe it Alya. I need to. Because if I don’t I will break apart. Mari...Marinette and I were best friends in l'école primaire. I never thought she would ever not be a part of my life. Then the whole Lila thing happened and I turned into a coward again, like I had with Chloe! No, worse than a coward! I don’t even know what I would call myself but I know I can’t call myself her friend.” His voice rose the more he spoke and near the end it cracked. 

“Nino…”

“No. I know that’s the truth! And I know, I know that things at school have been rough. Hell, they’ve been awful, everyone sees us as these villains in some trashy young teen novel when all we’ve done is make a mistake! Yes. It was a big mistake but it was a mistake nonetheless but we’re...we’re kids dammit. We’re just kids.” Alya felt tears race down her cheeks as she saw her boyfriend break yet again, his cheeks wet with his tears, his voice choked with his guilt. 

“I know. I just...I just want her back. I want everything back. I don’t know how many times we have to apologize to the school, but they’re not even the ones that need to hear the apologies! The one we need to have hear us isn’t here and…” Alya could feel herself breaking but she tried to hold on. Nino needed her to be strong. Her class needed her to be strong. Her family needed her to be strong.

“I can’t take the stares! Or, or hear Rose’s cries that she tries to hide from us. Mylene hasn’t been eating and I know she thinks we don’t notice and Adrien, god Adrien. I’m trying to hold it together because my bro is falling apart at the seams! First Marinette gets...gets fucking akumatized, then his dad and Nathalie get taken to the hospital from some supposedly random attack but it’s pretty obvious it was Mar-the akuma’s doing, his mom freaking pops out of nowhere but of course that can’t just be a good thing because everyone has to talk about how his dad and Nathalie were probably Hawkmoth and Mayura! And I’m over here trying not to think too much about all that because it makes actually too much sense, but then we find out that Marinette was most likely Ladybug! LADYBUG!” He lamented, not bothering to hide the fact he was crying, more like sobbing. It just made Alya cry more.

“I...I wanted the truth for so long, but not like this. Not like this. I...I know this makes me sound like the worst person on the planet but I kind of wish stupid Gabriel Agreste wasn’t Hawkmoth because then I could be akumatized and maybe I could be some kind of time-travelling akuma and we could go back and fix everything and school wouldn’t be hell and the twins wouldn’t act like they had to walk on eggshells around me all the time and my dad wouldn’t look like he’s always so disappointed in me and my mom wouldn’t look at my with only pity in her eyes and Nora would talk to me and Marinette would be back!” Alya sobbed out. At this point her and Nino had moved from their seats to the kitchen floor and were huddled together hugging each other for comfort. 

The two just sat there soaking up whatever comfort they could and dreaded the time that passed. For each minute that passed, was a minute that brought them closer to having to go back to school. Alya didn’t know if she had the strength to go back and deal with everything, she didn’t know if Nino could handle it either, but she knew her mother would be by any minute to give them a lift back to school. If there was a way she could just finish school online, Alya was willing to do it, but her father wouldn’t ever allow it. He had put his foot down, Otis Césaire was mad, then he was disappointed and he thought it only fair that Alya face her peers and continue on at Françoise Dupont. It didn’t feel fair, it didn’t feel fair at all, it felt like punishment. Hadn’t she been punished enough? Even in sleep she wasn’t safe, all she dreamed of was Lila and her making her act like a puppet. She would see puppet her do all these things to Marinette and she would wake up in sweat and tears.

“Okay I’m here, I hope you two are ready to head ba-” Alya looked up to see her mom standing there staring at her and Nino, her mouth agape. “Oh Alya...Nino...How about I call the school and tell them you’re not feeling good? And I’ll call your parents Nino.”

Alya was going to respond, she really was, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out but a choked off cry and nod. Nino nodded as well as he took in a shaky breath. “Th-Thanks, Mme C.”

“Nino, you know I told you to call me Marlena. Now you two go rest in Alya’s room while I make those calls. Then maybe I can get the rest of the day off and-” 

“No manman. Things...things are already bad enough, don’t make it worse by not going back to work. I don’t...I don’t want to be the reason why you get fired.” Alya mumbled as she and Nino got up off the floor.

“Oh...Oh my little one, that won’t happen. And if it did, not because of you. Never. Don’t you think that.” Alya’s mother breathed out as she pulled her daughter into a hug before taking her daughter’s face in her hands and doing her best to wipe her tears. 

“Papa and Nora would! Nora still won’t talk to me and Papa only looks at me like he’s disappointed he ever had me!” Alya cried out before she could stop the words from coming out. Her mind completely forgot that Nino was standing right beside her until she felt him hold her hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Your Papa is just being stubborn, but you listen to me, he could never ever be disappointed in having you. You are our daughter. You made a mistake yes, but I know you know you made a mistake and that you are sorry. Your Papa will realize that. He just needs time. And Nora...she just needs time too. I just think she doesn’t know how to handle everything and that she’s mad that she couldn’t protect you sweetie. She’s always been the protective older sister, and this was something she couldn’t protect you from herself. They’ll come around. I’m sure.” 

“If you’re sure manman…”

“I am. Now you kids go relax. I’m going to take the rest of the day off and go to the store for dinner ingredients, I’ll be back soon. I know things are hard my little Melusine but they won’t always be like this.” With a kiss to her forehead and a swift hug to Nino, Alya’s mom left the two teens in the family apartment.

At first they just stood there in silence and sniffles, but Nino made the move to put their plates in the sink and rinse them out while Alya gathered their schoolwork back into their bookbags. Then they  made their way to Alya’s room and kicked off their shoes before sitting on the bed. Nino nudged Alya who looked at him in confusion until she saw him give her a crooked smile and open his arms which she fell easily into. She took off her glasses and placed them on her bedside table while she felt more than saw Nino take off his cap. For a while they just sat there in the quiet of the moment and Alya was content to do just that, to just have a moment of peace, but she slowly pushed away and reached for her remote to turn on the TV and quickly pulled up Netflix. Her mom wanted them to relax so why not fry their brains with some television. 

“Anything in particular you want to watch?” She asked as she settled back against Nino.

“As long as it has nothing to do with school or superheroes...I’m good.” Nino responded with a hollow chuckle. 

“I’m glad we don’t have to go back too…” She murmured, “Should we...tell the others?”

“Probably. But if I’m being honest I don’t really feel like talking to them and them asking how we are and if we’re okay when they know we’re not. I just. I don’t think I could handle that. Not today.” 

“I get it. Sometimes I feel like everyone else even blames me for what happened. Like... Like it was my responsibility to not fall for the lies and to warn them. Like my word would have made a difference! Mari...Marinette’s didn’t so why would mine?” Alya huffed as she scrolled through all the movie and show choices and tried her best not to cry again. 

“If they blame you then they need to blame me too and blame the people in the mirror. We all fell for the lies. Sure you’re the budding reporter, but the blame could just as easily be pushed onto Max who is so smart he created a living AI. But we have no one to be mad at but ourselves and we can only do that for so long.” Nino sighed as he held her closer and kissed her temple. Alya relished in the warmth of it all. 

“When did you get so wise?” Alya teased softly.

“When I decided to rewatch Star Wars. But no seriously. If anyone in class bothers you please tell me because we should be sticking together not at each other’s throats.” Nino stuck out one hand and Alya slid her hand into his.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. I will. And you’re right, we do need each other, especially now, especially at that school.”

“Especially at that school, yeah.” He laughed out. “We’re going to get through this. I don’t know how, but, we are and we’re going to do it together.”

Alya smiled wryly before she looked up at Nino and it slipped into a real small smile. “Together.” She agreed softly.

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l'école primaire - elementaryschool

manman - Haitian Creole for Mother

[furiousgoldfish]

All lies of abusive parents are self serving. Don’t believe me? Watch this:

“You’re stupid, worthless, waste of space!” There’s no reason to say any of this to a child, if the child was actually struggling with learning or finishing tasks it would be something to soothe them over, and work on it together, not a reason to attack. So why do they do it? To convince themselves they’re actually smarter and more important than the child, which they are not. They repeat it just to convince themselves the child isn’t beating them in every avenue of hunanity. Which the child usually does effortlessly since the parents are trash.

“Nobody will ever want you, nobody will hire you, you can’t do anything, you’re lazy, incompentent slob! ” Now if any of that was true, it would firstly reflect bad on the parents. If they ‘raised’ a kid so badly the kid can’t do anything and is even unexploitable by capitalism, they should feel ashamed of themselves. Yet thats not what they’re saying, and they’re usually not saying it to a kid who can’t do anything, it would be extremely cruel to say this to a disabled kid and very obviously evil (not unheard of, tho) no, they say this to the children who already work hard and try their best, and they make a point of repeating this and going overboard to find all or any mistakes. Why? To prevent escape. If their smart, capable and hardworking child realizes the truth, they will plan and achieve to escape and live by their own means. Brainwashing to keep a child trapped at home is extremely self serving, if not explicitly evil.

“You are so disgusting, you should feel ashamed of yourself! Don’t you feel any pity for your poor parent?! You’re heartless and cruel and want me to suffer! ” Other than being a huge projection, lets just look at what picture this framing paints. Apparently what we have here is a parent (?) who Is suffering (?) because their CHILD isn’t taking pity on them. This tells the child that the parent is depending on them, parent’s happiness is depending on them, they have to think about what the parent wants and needs or they’re HURTING the parent. Except, this is parentification, and the reality is reversed. Of course the parent isn’t depending on the child to look after them and make them happy. Does the child own a house? A job? Resources? Food? Emotional maturity to comfort their grown up ass? Did the child concieve them? No. The parent has, or is supposed to have all that, and responsibility to look after the kid. So why are they acting like the kid is the actual parent here and actively causing SUFFERING by not caretaking enough? Because they’re spoiled narcissistic adults who think actual children should neglect themselves, on top of being neglected by parents, and cater to their needs instead. It does not get more gross and seld serving than that. Maybe find a fucking therapist or person your age to ‘take pity’. Heaven knows you never took pity on your own child.

“Nobody will ever love you like I do!” If this was true, they would never say it, for obvious reasons of ‘scaring the child that they would never experience actual love from another person’, do you think anyone who loves the child would ever want them to live in that fear? No, this is a self serving lie and it means ‘if you ever leave I want you to be scared that you will never be loved again’ and if that gives you cold chills, it should. Downright psychopatic shit. Cruel emotional manipulation for the sake of sabotaging possible escape. And if they say it, they already know you will want to escape, they know they’re treating you bad enough for you to want to get the hell away. Healthy way would be simply treating you with respect, care and love so you wouldn’t have to escape, but apparently thats just too much to ask.

“You have to listen to me/obey what I say. I’m your parent and it is the law/bible/you’re freeloader and have to deserve to eat here.” If that was true we wouldn’t even bother having children being raised by parents, we’d simply chuck them to the nearest factory, prison or what have you, and have them work until they deserve to eat or die. This however, is ILLEGAL and also a reason for humanity not to even exist. By whose authority do we not have children fed, clothed and housed, regardless of wether they’re providing labor? They’re not workers, they’re not even fully developed, and you want them to work or DIE? There is no animal, no creature on this planet who does this to their children. Every parent in animal kingdom cares for their child, teaches them how to get along in the world and NEVER expects the child to pay back, or work for them, or sustain them, because its STUPID and UNNATURAL and completely out of this world. If you consider children freeloaders or source of free labour or think at any point they’re unworthy of food, roof, clothes, society, support, happiness, just get a fucking robot and call it a day. You don’t need or deserve a kid. Legally kids don’t owe their parents free labour. Not even chores. All responsibility of caretaking and giving falls to the parent, and they’ve CHOSEN THIS. The child chose nothing. They don’t need to pay for their own food because this is your fault, not theirs. It’s on you to keep them healthy, happy, teach them how to survive and thrive and support them to be happy in this world. They do not owe you a thing.

[firelxdykatara]

Let me start by saying I've never watched Legend of Korra. like, the most I've watched was any bending scenes/fights and all the Zuko and Toph clips (admittedly, I didn't watch any of the Katara clips because..well..honestly I didn't want to see her be so meek). But I've always felt kinda...bad for liking Mako since the few posts I did read made it seem like both Korra and Asami were better off without him and I didn't want to accidentally fall into the category of sympathising with a man who didn't treat women right. Even when I watched what few clips he was in -Mako seemed a little serious but not anything bad- I thought it was just because I didn't see enough of him to see why he was so bad for Korra and Asami.

And then I read your post on Mako and how he had to do anything and everything to take care of Bolin and my heart kinda broke. I don't know if this is right, but it kinda feels like Mako is being treated a bit like Katara's being treated. Like, they both fit the sibling-turned-parental-figure roles and some of the fandom seems like they can't accept that both are still teenagers who...well, still act like teenagers. seriously, I'm gonna be mad if I ever see another 'take' about how Katara is bad for acting more teenager than mother 😤. And the parallels between the non-con kisses that their respective Avatars gave them, with both Mako and Katara shouldering the blame (though in Katara's case it's more of a "she's supposed to like it! She's the Avatar's girl uwu") . It just rubs me the wrong way how neither of them get any slack for acting less than amazing when they both spent years carrying their trauma and shielding their siblings from that same hurt.

Sorry if this is bothering you or if it doesn't make sense; I'm just kinda fed up of seeing people side with the Avatar no matter what the situation was, especially when Korra and Aang were actually in the wrong *coughnon-conkisscough*

You're not bothering me at all, don't worry!

Honestly all of this makes a ton of sense, someone who's never seen the show and only has fandom's word to go on could be excused for thinking Mako's a fuckboy who was intentionally leading the girls on rather than a kid who'd been raising his baby brother alone on the streets since he was eight years old and maybe not the best at navigating personal relationships and didn't know how to deal with the fact that he had feelings for two incredible girls at the same time. That shit's hard to deal with even when you have parents and had a happy and comfortable life and are just in high school trying to get through the day, but you throw that in the mix with 'became a parent at eight years old' and 'struggled to get enough to feed his brother, nevermind himself, while they lived on the streets' and then everything that happened during the series, and it's like, cut this kid some slack maybe????

Also the comparisons with the way the fandom treats Katara are also spot on. Obviously in Katara's case there's also an added element of racialized misogyny, because she's a dark-skinned girl and the only dark-skinned girl in the main cast, so that gets added to the fact that she was also the gaang's 'mom friend' and you get fans unironically calling her a 'bitch' for -checks notes- getting reasonably upset after being pushed to her limit and losing her cool--but in Mako's case, he actually fills the same niche in the krew that Katara did in the gaang, and he gets a lot of the same treatment, which I think winds up coming at him from the opposite side of the fence so to speak. Because he's a boy, he automatically gets the blame for anything that goes wrong with the love triangle--up to and including the avatar violating his boundaries and kissing him without his consent--because Korra and especially Asami are precious girls and could do no wrong.

And the thing is that it gets kinda complicated because Korra did also get a lot of racialized misogyny flung at her by the racist&misogynistic dudebros of the fanbase who hated that a brown girl was now the avatar, but that wound up overshadowing the very real and reasonable criticisms that can be made of her character and her behavior. Especially in Book 2, where she gets angry enough at Mako for -checks notes- doing his job and not wanting to jump to conclusions that she TRASHES HIS OFFICE!!!!! IN A FIT OF RAGE!!!!!! (which of course Mako gets blamed for and a lot of fans will frame that as Korra getting 'reasonably upset' which lol no)--and the fact that this occurs in the same season as Bolin getting trapped in an explicitly toxic and abusive relationship with a Water Tribe girl (who happens to be Korra's cousin) that is played for laughs the entire fucking time makes me think that Bryke just have very troubling ideas about how it's ok for women to treat their significant others, particularly if they happen to be men.

(Although let it not be said that they didn't write toxic relationships from the other side, Varrick spends the entire series mistreating Zhu Li and then at the end he decides he's in love with her and they get married [in a very Western ceremony, incidentally], and nothing is ever mentioned of the awful way he treated her for the entire show.)

So yeah like, it really, really bothers me that Katara and Mako share similar niches in their respective teams and both of them get a whole lot of untoward hatred for -checks notes- being teenagers and having feelings and sometimes expressing them. They both deserve so much better from their respective fanbases, and I think the biggest reason Katara has a bigger and more devoted defense squad is because atla is still pretty widely regarded as the best installment of the franchise and a lot of people just don't care to even watch lok. The bulk of the lok fanbase is anti Mako and it's hard to maintain any resilience as a fandom in the face of that lmao.

But I'm always happy to talk about how much I love him and if I can only turn the tide one anon at a time then that's ok.

[ellestra]

Time to burn

I have suspected TVA was evil from the beginning and the way they would punish people for braking the rules they had no way of knowing even existed was proof enough. If something as mundane as being late for work make you pruned it hardly seem fair. But back then it seemed like pruning was just death. It turns our it much more horrifying than that. The TVA just dumps them to trash - out of sight, out of mind - so they can eaten by a monster that sucks out the time of their bones leaving only ruins behind. Everyone they prune and all who are in the range of reset charge just fed to Alioth or cannibals or, I suppose, dying of hunger. They feed people to a monster to get rid of them. That's evil. That whole place is evil.

At least the ones like Ravonna Renslayer who know and still value status quo over the truth. She always knew what happens after pruning. She knew she was sending countless beings into horrific deaths. And even after she learns that Time Keepers are a lie and the whole building a paradise of that garbage heap is bunk she wants to bury the truth. Sure she wants to know what the TVA is really about and who created it but not to rock the organisation. She is in power here and she doesn't want to rock the boat. This system works for her so she wants to stop anyone from disrupting it. After all she's not the Variant being chased to death and that all that matters.

This is a contrast to other TVA agents who learn the truth. Even if she didn't know before Ravonna learnt for Hunter C-20 they were all Variants but she just buried it with her. But Hunter B-15 and Mobius react to the horrifying realisation that they've been lied to and have been used to abused others with wanting to make up for it. That's the difference between the good and evil. Unlike Ravonna they don't hide their crimes - they tries to atone for them. B-15 helps Sylvie and loki fight the Time Keepers and uncover how deep the lie goes. And Mobius tries to save as many of the very people he prosecuted before as he can. And most importantly he apologises. He apologises to Sylvie for his role in helping TVA hunt her.

Because even when you did something bad in error - because you were lied to and indoctrinated - the people you hurt are still hurt. This is the difference to someone like Grant Ward who hid behind excuses and blaming others and someone like Mobius and Loki himself. I've seen so many people just going on about how all Loki did was the fault of his upbringing and Odin and he's just hurt but he is still the one who did it. His childhood can be an explanation of the person he became but it's not a justification. Hurting people (from trying to kill Thor to all the people on Earth) was still on him. And we see in this series that he doesn't try to justify it so don't do it for him. This is the big part of the growth - taking responsibility.

I often complain about lack of accountability in Marvel stories - especially from superheroes themselves - and it was really nice to see the characters taking time to try to make up for their mistakes at least in the TV series.

It's nice that let us see both sides of it in Lokis. They are all burdened with such mistakes and we see how those who learnt nothing from it keep repeating the same mistakes even as that brings them closer to annihilation. Those who learnt from their mistakes get a chance to show their growth. Something TVA tried to take away from them. Another one of that organisation's crimes.

And it looks like each Loki got there in their own way proving that their improvement wasn't all that unlikely as there were many paths leading to it. Kid Loki killed his Thor and I'm pretty sure that was one of Loki pranks going wrong. We see it in our main Loki's face when he hears that. In many ways Loki has always been a lot like Nebula. For all the talk about killing the sibling it was always more about wanting to be noticed and appreciated as equal. The main thing about all those attempts to kill was that they were not supposed to succeed. How can you gloat to them if their dead? They just wanted to win. So I think the reason Kid Loki helps other Lokis is to have a replacement sibling for the one he lost. Someone to hang with and not try to kill. It turns out the killing wasn't really that fun.

I'm not sure what makes Alligator Loki care besides pool and wine but if I had to guess it's him having Kid Loki and willing to kill everyone in the room even looking at him the wrong way.

Even though the Classic Loki is prone to fatalism of their inability to change we can see that he already did. He hangs with the Kid and Alligator without betraying them so he can have the companionship he missed. He saves them when push comes to shove. And in the end he also saves Sylvie and main Loki and the day. He was the hero already. He just didn't believe in himself.

But the part that really made me irrationally upset is that Old Loki never got to reunite with his Thor. He blamed himself for all the bad things that happened and let Thor believe he died. And when he tried to reconnect TVA came. All I could think at that scene was Thor during the Infinity War and Endgame - completely devastated by that loss and never learning he isn't alone. Neither of them even knowing how much the other missed them. It makes me so angry.

This is TVA crime I cannot forgive. As Loki has said it the first episode and as Mobius promised to help with back then burn the whole place. Now Loki has given him that spark and it's time to burn it all down.

[mandelene]

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

You’ve got it! 💕  Thanks for the ask!

Someone asked me to write asthmatic Matthew in the ER a while ago, and I didn’t do it, but here it is now. 😂 I hope it's not total trash.

Sweet Normalcy

Word Count: 1555

Chest pain, the dull aching kind that flares up every time he inhales, that’s all he feels. Keeping his eyes open takes a great deal of effort, but the constant hissing flow of nebulized albuterol being delivered through the mask on his face makes it hard to get any sleep. Maintaining a train of thought for longer than fifteen seconds is also a sudden challenge. When he rolls his head to the right and looks up at the monitor behind him, he sees his heart rate is in the 140s and his oxygen saturation is at ninety-five percent on albuterol and oxygen. That’s not normal for him. None of this is normal. He can’t remember the last time things got this out of control.

“Matthew? Any better, love?” Dad asks him from the chair to his left. He’s been sitting there for hours now, continuously keeping vigilant watch.

It’s a busy night in the emergency department, and it feels a bit like he’s in a bad fever dream. The doctor checking in on him introduced herself earlier, but he can’t recall her name. An alarm goes off every few minutes from someone’s monitor, and it takes him longer than it should to recognize that it’s his monitor making that noise and alerting his nurse to keep coming over to assess him due to his seesawing oxygen saturation and heart rate.

Matthew’s not even sure what time it is anymore. He barely remembers anything. Every hour or so, he will doze off into a fitful half-sleep for twenty minutes or so before waking again and feeling disoriented. A nurse could tell him he’s been here for a week, and he’d believe them.

“Matthew? I asked if you’re feeling any better?” Dad asks again, leaning forward in his seat to grab his clammy left hand and squeeze it gently.

“A little,” Matthew lies, for his father’s sake. He wonders where Alfred and Papa are. They were here earlier, he’s pretty sure.

“I can tell when you’re not being truthful,” Dad sighs, squeezing his hand harder. “You’re not improving. You need to be admitted. This is ridiculous. You should have been admitted hours ago.”

Matthew hates seeing him stressed like this, but he also knows there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment. He feels himself slipping into momentary sleep again, and his eyes flutter shut. He wants to go home. Wants to be in his bed…Is it morning yet?

“Sixteen-year-old with a history of asthma…Patient accompanied by his father. Patient began oral corticosteroid treatment two days ago at home after experiencing wheezing, chest tightness, and coughing that was not fully improving with usual rescue medications…”

They’re talking about him—Matthew realizes that much, at least. He opens his glazed eyes and sees a new doctor approaching him. His ID badge says he’s a critical care doctor. Matthew’s not sure what the difference is between him and the other doctor he saw earlier, but he honestly can’t be bothered to care. He wants to sleep. Desperately. And he wants the chest pain to stop.

“Matthew, buddy?” the doctor says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t want to breathe anymore. His chest hurts too much, and speaking would require taking another agonizing breath.

"Mmmrgh" is all he can manage.

“He’s been less and less responsive,” Dad supplies from the other side of the room, and Matthew can hear the nervousness in his voice, which is unsettling. Dad rarely ever shows how anxious he is when someone’s sick. “I can’t get him to talk to me in full sentences anymore—just phrases.”

The doctor carefully sits him up, and Matthew feels his whole body shake. He rests his elbows against the stretcher to brace himself. A cold stethoscope touches his back, and he shivers.

“He’s still not moving air. He needs to be brought upstairs to intensive care to be monitored. We’ll continue IV steroid treatment and continuous albuterol. If he’s still like this, we can consider non-invasive ventilation and take it from there. Our main priority is to protect his airway.” 

Dad says something, but Matthew doesn’t hear it over the noise of the nebulizer. He just knows he’s going to be moved soon and the treatment is going to become more serious now. If he weren’t so tired, he might be scared.

The doctor leaves, and Dad goes back to holding Matthew’s hand. “It’s going to be all right, love. You’ll receive better care soon and hopefully, you’ll start to feel better,” Dad tells him before using his other hand to pet his head. “Try to rest. I’ll be right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you, understand?” 

Matthew nods. His eyes do close again, and he does get some brief rest. The next time he’s aware of his surroundings and wakes up, he’s already in the ICU, which means he slept through his transport. The respiratory therapist is setting him up on a BiPAP machine, and once it’s on, it makes his chest hurt even more, which he didn’t think was possible. He grits his teeth against the pain and tries not to make a fuss about it—it would just make Dad worry even more. The air being forced into his lungs is welcome yet excruciating at the same time.

But he doesn’t have to say anything for Dad to know he’s suffering. It’s written all over his face. “I know, poppet. It’s just temporary. It should help.” 

It’s so exhausting that he falls asleep again without even needing to think about it. Again, he has no idea how much time passes until he sees the sun shining through the windows of the hospital, indicating that it’s finally morning. The BiPAP mask squeezing his face gets replaced with a regular oxygen mask again, and it occurs to him that his chest feels much lighter and his head is clearer. The worst is over. The air in his lungs feels crisp and refreshing...Almost sweet, even. 

“How are you feeling?” Dad asks for the millionth time, still perched next to him. 

“Better…For real this time.” 

Dad hasn’t slept, of course. He never sleeps in such situations. He was likely watching him all night and conversing with his care team. “Good. You gave us all quite a scare.” 

“Sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s not your fault, love. Not at all…Do you think you’re feeling well enough to have some breakfast?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dad gives him a relieved smile and then goes off to request a breakfast tray for him. It gets brought up within half an hour, and even though Matthew feels a bit nauseous from the steroids in his system, he knows he needs to eat to gain some energy back.

He’s given some pancakes, a fruit cup, and orange juice. He decides to make a move for the orange juice first because his mouth feels incredibly dry and gross. He picks up the carton and that’s when he notices just how shaky he still is. His hands are trembling violently from all of the bronchodilators in his system.

Dad quickly takes the carton from him, sticks a straw into it, and then brings it back up to Matthew’s lips. “Here, poppet, I’ll hold it for you.” 

“…I can do it.” 

“You’ll spill it. Don’t be stubborn.”

It doesn’t feel great to have poorer motor skills than a toddler, but Matthew sips some juice through the straw anyway, allowing himself to be fed because he doesn’t have a choice. He finishes the entire carton, one pancake, and half of the fruit cup before his stomach protests. Dad doesn’t seem too happy about him not finishing the meal, but he doesn’t push it either. 

And just as he’s finishing up, he finds out Alfred and Papa are outside of the unit, waiting to be allowed in. He’s only permitted to have two visitors at a time, so Dad leaves to take a quick trip home to eat and shower while Alfred and Papa take watch next. 

“Dude, you’re alive! Thank God, man. No offense, but you were looking really rough and out-of-it yesterday,” Alfred exclaims upon arrival, bright-eyed and full of pep as always. “It’s good to see you’re looking more like yourself now.”

“We’re so relieved, mon chou. Your father said you may be able to come home as soon as the day after tomorrow.” 

“I hope so…Sorry for making everyone worry.” 

Alfred throws his hands up in the air and shakes his head dramatically. “I have to teach you everything, don’t I, Mattie? You’re not supposed to apologize for being sick. You’re supposed to milk it for all its worth and make everyone feel bad for you and buy you get well soon gifts. Tell Dad when he comes back that you wanna play the new Pokemon Snap on the Switch.” 

“That’s what you want to play, Alfred.” 

“Yeah, but we can share it, right?” 

“Alfred, your brother is seriously ill, and all you’re thinking about are video games again! Where did your father and I go wrong? You could show some sympathy!” Papa scolds, pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation.

“It was a joke! Kinda…Obviously, I love ya, Matt! I was really worried, too!” 

And he has never craved normalcy as much as he does now. 

Yup. Things are already going back to normal.

[taeslovehandles]

I never meant to target you and I'm sorry you felt that way. You properly tag everything and adhere to the "don't like, don't read" rule. I don't follow you nor you follow, because we simply don't vibe together and that's okay.

But there are posts that are on the more "innocent" side that do represent fat people as a joke and it's like they don't even realize it because it's something so well ingrained in our fatphobic society.

For example, all the characters are having fun except the fat one or referring to someone as "twice his size" (like... If they want to say he's huge, they should just say it, not imply that there's a "right size" for someone to be).

I don't think authors should censor themselves, just acknowledge the role they play in how fat characters are perceived by the community they write for.

-🍓

First of all, since you obviously haven’t blocked me, you could have come to me via direct message. This is not a topic that needs to be brought out into the public eye even more than it already is. I have worked with anons before, I would have been the last person to reveal who you are. You could have made a trash account to message me in dm’s, but since you didn’t, I will reply to you here.

I want to make one thing clear. This will be my last response on the topic. If you do not like me as a member of the community please use the block button and filter me out, because I will stay. I have many friends here, and know that many people enjoy my content. Just because a small handful of people don’t appreciate dark themes in fiction, the contents of which they can easily protect themselves from, won’t make me falter.

Now, I want to debunk this ask because your ‘apology’ actually made me very upset.

I know you don’t mean it when you say you are sorry because you’re backpedaling on what you’ve told your friends and it really rubs me the wrong way. You could have owned up to your mistakes and apologized sincerely like others had but you continue to play victim and excuse your behaviour with tales of your own trauma, projecting your own insecurities onto my blog and thus hating me.

I know for a fact that you despise my blog, especially my writing, because you do not like how “obviously skinny people write about weight gain.”

Honey.

I couldn’t be any further from skinny.

I don’t mind sharing my actual weight, which has actually gotten worse due to COVID. I weigh 490lbs. I am morbidly obese. I have always been morbidly obese. For you to come and be “nitpicky” about a genre you don’t even enjoy? Why are you even reading my fics then?

The way I write about obese people, their struggles with literally everything… that comes from real life experience. I write this to share embarrassing and exhausting daily life tasks I personally struggle with.

A skinny person would never write some of the stuff I do, because they simply don’t know. They don’t know how scary it is to hear the line “we are going to a restaurant.” They don’t know how scary it is to go into that new restaurant, scan the chairs and think “Shit, am I gonna fit? Is the chair gonna creak? Is there enough space for the next table? What if I won’t fit?” A thin person doesn’t have to think this way.

And, let me tell you something else. Yes, I agree. The world is fatphobic.

In one of my recent posts I talked about movies and shows where they make fun of fat people because I hate it. Because it is REAL LIFE. And I am all for the body positivity movement and I do believe that all bodies are beautiful, because they are.

You do not know me personally.

And that leads to my next point. If you personally have issues with the phrase “twice my size”, then that is on you. And guess what? I cannot count how often I’ve heard lines like that my whole life.

“Oh wow two people would fit in one of your pant legs.”

“Wow, you are so fat, I could use your pants as a tent.”

So trust me, I know. I KNOW. But anon, this is the important part for me. Everyone processes trauma differently.

Inked ch3? Or literally any story I have written with a fat character being forced, insulted and talked down to like they’re dumb? That’s what I have been living with my entire life. Most of these stories, some obviously more extreme than how I had experienced them since it’s fiction, have been recordings of trauma I have went through.

My own dad force fed me. Forced me to eat food and gain weight. My first boyfriend was a feeder that manipulated me into gaining more weight and took measurements. Called me pig names and abused me. Hit me, manipulated me into having s** with him and then let all of his fantasies out on me.

I don’t make this shit up. I hate my brain for being so twisted now, that I actually find it hot and arousing. It’s weird. I know, but that’s how it is.

I’ve also never had friends in school. Not even kindergarten. Why? Because my “fat incased body could spread like a virus.” I was being bullied like JK was in Pondus.

I had hot water thrown at me, got glue put on my seats and hair, had my hair ripped out and even got a cigarette burn mark on my arm. Just because I was fat. Just because of how my body was shaped.

I was strangled and locked into a small locker for a night. I was almost killed for running away from my abusive dad from his car and had to listen to things like, “You are going to die when you are 30. No one will ever love you and your body.” That I have trust issues now and am paranoid about everything and everyone.

Those dark stories. I use those dark stories to try to work through my trauma. And yes, it may be absurd to you. It may disgust you, what I write. But sadly, most of it? Most of it really happened to me. To me and other people I’ve talked to as a friend or seen online. Most of what I write will be dark because the human species is made up of terrible creatures.

Fatphobia is an important topic, and I am happy the media has been slowly getting better about it, that people accept us more. But my writing is how I work with my trauma. If I can make fictional characters feel the same things I had to feel, that makes me feel better.

And I’m not hurting anyone with it. So how is it wrong?

I do not support any of this behaviour in real life. I never bullied anyone, I always try to speak up for my friends and tell people if they are being assholes. Because I hate them too and it makes me angry when good people get shit when they do nothing but breathe.

And how @pudgecuddles already said. I don't need you to advocate for body positivity and all that shit when you go out of your way to bully someone that may have experienced the same shit you have. I do not know you or what you went through in your life, but I am sorry. I’m sorry you feel like my stories aren’t okay to write, but this is how I work on my trauma and I need you to respect that.

I’ve said this before. We don’t have to be friends, or even talk to each other.

Just be neutral.

Block me. Filter me out. Pretend I don't exist. But, whatever you do, don’t make posts that call me out while making it obvious you’re talking about me, with the cover that you are advocating against fatphobia. That’s got a name. Cyber-bullying.

Have you hurt me with those posts? Yes you have, but I’ve never wanted bad blood. As you may have noticed, it wasn’t me that made a post. It was my good friend. Because I told her how exhausting it was and she knew about the posts back then.

I have a good idea of who you are.

I remember you.

But I kept my mouth shut. Because this community is my home and the last thing I wanted was for the people who like both of our types of content to feel like they have to choose sides.

In the end, we all rub one out to fat gay boys in a band. No user is better than the rest, and if there are topics you do not enjoy, there is a button for it. No need to drag everyone into it with posts. It’s exhausting and irritating.

Now, I do not accept your apology because you lied to me and I also do not feel like you meant it sincerely knowing what I know now after reading some dm’s. But I also won’t sit here and start shit.

This is my last post about this.

Please block me and enjoy the content you do like.

Nonetheless, I hope you have a nice day and a lovely weekend. Whatever you are experiencing or going through, I hope it gets better. Because even if you hate me personally for creating content you do not support, I’d say that I am a really friendly and nice person.

I do not believe that anyone deserves to be bullied like that and talked down in official posts. It happened before with a friend of mine and you probably remember that I did speak up about it.... But apparently no one learned from it. I really hope this time you do.

Insult me and shit talk me all you want in dm’s, but don’t do it publicly. No one deserves that kind of hate or passive aggressiveness. No one. Since you sound like someone that went through a lot of shit too, you should know better. You should know how it feels to be bullied and what damage it can cause.

I’m already depressed enough and I have bad lows. Let me write my erotica and just enjoy it? That’s all I want? I am a part of this community just like you were. You leaving because you did not like my content, is not my problem. If you cannot block me or ignore it and go so far as to read them and then rant about them negatively, what do you want me to do? I won’t leave the scene just because you don’t like me.

So, you either trash talk me in dm’s from now on so that I do not see it, or you block me. The latter of which would be the more mature thing to do. The more humane thing to do. Because talking behind someone’s back is just as bad.

Again, I don’t know why you felt like it was necessary to send me an ask with lies in it when I got screenshot proof of something else you have said/issues with, so don’t backpedal on me. I know Hun. I know already.

At least stick to what you said and actually apologize or, if you can’t, just block me.

But this ask? This ask just upset me.

Have a nice day.

p.s: The fact that this even needs to be talked about is so absurd and ridiculous to me. The whole thing is a petty party in my eyes that isn't even worth anyone's time? Do people on here really not have any other issues right now or am I in the wrong movie?

[morizoras-cave]

Action (Request)

James McAvoy x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff

Request Description: okay cool! i've got a request, then: a teen!co-star!reader x james mcavoy where she gets an injury and tries to play it off as if she's fine and james notices and makes sure she gets proper medical attention and comforts her but scolds her about keeping it a secret if that makes sense. thank you!

Warnings: reader gets physically hurt, language, slight insecurity (ish)

(A/N): okay so, i didnt make a fic yesterday and i feel slightly bad, but its cool hahaha. im going home from vacation tomorrow, so ill have a little bit more time

“You don’t know anything!” you trembled, full of emotion. You braced yourself. You were currently filming the scene that you had rehearsed for weeks. Your character was going to be chased down by James’ character, in an attempt to fix their broken familial relationship. It was intense and difficult to shoot.

“Then tell me!” James was just as full of emotion, frustration and desperation painted on his face . He was bracing himself too, you could tell. You shook your head, just as scripted, and when James stepped towards you, you flinched back. “Tell me.”

That was your cue. You grabbed the windowsill of the open window, smoothly swinging out and landing several meters down. James looked out at you from it, and there was a moment where you stared at each other, before you dashed away, and he scrambled to get down the stairs. 

You were already running down the street, panting. Why did your director have to be so realistic? It would pay off. You hoped. 

The door to the house swung open violently and you saw James’ form exit, already sprinting towards you. Dozens of cameras were catching the entire scene.

James was much taller than you, legs and stamina allowing him to catch up quickly. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, looking around desperately. You quickly found the junkyard you were supposed to enter, constructed solely for the movie. You jumped over a white fence, entering the property of another person, to shortcut to the yard. James was right behind you. 

You continued into the junkyard, where you did several more stunts, jumping up and over things, squeezing in between narrow rows of trash. It was going very well, right up until the point where you had to jump from one heap of trash to another. 

You hesitated, both because it was scripted, but also because it was a terrifyingly large jump. I mean, you’d practiced it a ton, so you’d be able to do it, right?

You looked back and saw James there. He gave you a warning look, and you angled your head in response. Then you turned away and ran, jumping over the massive gap. 

You knew right away you wouldn’t make it. The trash gave away under you, sabotaging your jump. Flying through the air, you tried desperately to grasp the edge, so you wouldn’t fall. You almost did it, grabbing an old boot from the pile, when the boot lodged itself out of its position, breaking off your only hold on the pile.

You fell to the ground with a terrifying scream. The dust rose as you hit the earthy floor. 

The crew immediately stopped and several people came to your aid. James ran up to you, face strewn into concern and horror. He grabbed your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. 

“Y/n! Are you okay? That was quite a fall,” he said. You shook your head dismissively. 

God, that was so embarrassing. You had practiced it for weeks, and still managed to fail and waste all of these peoples time! 

“I’m good, it didn’t hurt that much,” you lied. Oh boy, it hurt. Your shoulder and arms hurt and most terrifyingly, your head hurt. But you had already wasted the crew’s time, you couldn’t postpone this by being whiney. 

“You sure?” James asked, seemingly not convinced. You gave him a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained, as it fought through the needle-like, pulsing pain all over your body. 

The director asked if you could do it again and you agreed. You did the stunt right on the second take, and although it hurt like a bitch trying to do all of it after your fall, it was worth it. 

After the scene was short several times (to your anguish), the day was wrapped up and every started getting out of their costumes and getting ready to go home. 

You and James had gotten into the habit of walking back to the hotel together, and chatting along the way, so you grabbed your things and met him by the entrance. 

“Man, that was a hard scene, don’t you think?” James asked and you just hummed, arm wrapped around your stomach in order to cease the pain. “That was quite a fall you took there.” 

“Yeah..” you mumbled, stopping when something wet touched your face. Your brows furrowed and you touched your upper lip. Search your fingers you saw blood, and realized you were having a nose bleed. “Uh-”

“Alright, that’s it,” James said, turning your attention back to him. He looked fed up and, an emotion that was unfamiliar on his features, scared. “I’m driving you to the hospital.” 

“What? No- no!”

“Yes!” he said and without another word, he picked you up, making you groan in embarrassment. 

“James, this is so unnecessary, it’s just a little nosebleed!” you complained, thrashing in his arms, but quickly stopping once you felt how much that hurt. Instead, you tried to stay as still as possible in a comfortable position.

“It’s not, Y/n. You’ve been squirmin’ in pain all day, I can tell,” he said. You knew he’d figured you out, and while you still didn’t think it was worth a hospital visit, you knew you couldn’t argue with James. 

“All right, all right! I’ll go to the hospital, but only if you put me down!” You reasoned. James stopped, considering it for a moment, before lowering you to where you could stand for yourself. Again, the movement hurt you terribly, but you put on a brave face. 

James hitched you and him a taxi, and headed to the hospital as fast as possible in the constant traffic. You sat uncomfortably, holding your stomach and biting your lip to prevent yourself from groaning. 

“Fuck,” you whispered and gritted your teeth. James looked at you broodingly. 

“You shouldn’t hide stuff like that,” he said. You looked up and met his eyes. A sighed escaped your lips. “I’m very disappointed in you for hiding it. You’re obviously in pain, N/n.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to waste everyone’s time.”

“Right, well, next time just waste their fuckin’ time! You realize you could be seriously hurt, right?” James’ voice only portrayed anger, but you could see on his face, clearly, concern and worry. The cars honked distantly outside the car. You said nothing. 

“I fucking mean it, Y/n. You can’t do this shit. Tell me that next time you’ll just say if you’re hurt,” James grabbed your hand and looked at you seriously, “Tell me.” 

A strange deja vu occurred, as your life somewhat resembled the movie. Then you looked at him and nodded, “All right. I promise.” 

James didn’t let go of your hand on the way to the hospital, squeezing it whenever you trembled in pain. When you did get in, he made an embarrassingly big deal out of it, demanding that you get checked out immediately. 

Relatively quickly (probably out of fear for the insane Scottish man you’d arrived with) you were looked at, and it turns out the fall had been quite serious, You’d fractured your arm and dislocated your shoulder. The doctor said you were lucky you hadn’t gotten any trauma to the head. 

When James was finally allowed in your room, you knew he’d gotten the news, because he had the biggest ‘I told you so’ look on his face. He gave you yet another lecture, but mostly he just hugged you and confessed how worried you’d made him. You apologized profusely, of course, because it was an absolute crime to worry such a sweet person. 

The incident had definitely made James more paranoid for the rest of the shooting, asking you each time you’d done a stunt if you were okay. You found it sweet though, and nice that he cared for you. Which he did, because you were like a sister to him, and it was over his dead body he would let you hide your pain from him.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @ireadfanficforfun @snarky--starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel​

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 3—

"Don't they have anything at least a LITTLE flattering? I get they're like hippie-extremists, but not all of us want to look like a sack of potatoes," you complained, swiping through their clothing racks that screamed no-potential-whatsoever.

You'd finally arrived at NGL headquarters, only for them to make the three of you throw out your phones and clothes. It's like they were still living in the 18th century.

"It's only clothes. Just pick whatever," Killua replied while browsing through the selection, though he looked equally as aggravated and bored. He did have at least some style that he wanted to upkeep.

Gon on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"You think they have anything green?" He wondered out loud.

You pulled out a set of white pants with a blue long sleeves top.

"Hey Killua."

"Yeah?"

You shoved the set into his arms, giving him a bright smile.

"Try this on, I think it would match your eyes well."

"Idiot. The Chimera Ants won't be looking at my eyes when we're fighting them." Pink dusted his cheeks as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

He bought the outfit without even trying it on.

Gon pouted. "Wait, what about me?"

You pulled out two more similar sets. One was a pair of green pants and a white tank top, while the other was burgundy pants with a black top. That one was yours.

"We can all match!" You grinned, relieved you finally found something that wouldn't make you all look like homeless children. "Well, sort of." The sets were still different colors, but they retained the same general style.

"Oh, great idea Y/N! I'll go change into it now," Gon beamed, nearly skipping all the way to the changing room with his brand new green pants. It was about time he put on something different for a change, you inwardly joked.

Killua was already walking back from the stalls when Gon ran past him.

"Wow Killua, look at that drip~" You whistled, checking out his new outfit.

"You're so hopeless," he sighed, bonking the top of your head.

You rubbed where he had hit and stuck out your tongue, pretending to be hurt. It was the truth though, he looked really good in the outfit you had picked out. Peeking at him while he wasn't looking, you discovered that the tight-skinned long sleeves accentuated his arms in a way you'd never noticed before, hugging his lean muscles. You were right about the royal-colored shirt bringing out his pretty blue eyes. And the way his pale skin and white hair contrasted them even looked a little heavenly...

God, what were you thinking? If Killua heard you right now he'd hit you over the head another 20 times over. You looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see your growing blush.

After all three of you had changed into your new clothes, the hunt for the Chimera Ants began. Kite was on his own horse, while the rest of you fit on the second one due to your small frames. You were holding onto Gon's torso as he took control of the reins.

He was like a natural, his whole body moving in sync with the horse in strong determination. You trusted him, knowing that wouldn't just let you topple over. You weren't really used to horses, as they weren't typically found roaming around the jungle.

Then there was Killua, who was standing stick-straight on the horse like it was nothing.

"How do you even do that?!" You called out over the sound of galloping hooves.

"Huh, Do what? You mean this?" Killua smirked, doing a handstand.

You couldn't believe him. The boy had no fear at all.

"You're crazy," you stated, turning around to face Killua and leisurely leaning your back against Gon.

You had finally mastered balancing on the horse without having to hold onto him— but you had nowhere as near the skill Killua did.

"Maybe I am, but you love it," he teased, still upside-down. Temptingly enough, his white locks of hair were hanging upside-down too.

Slowly, you leaned forward on the palm of your hands, steadily closing in the distance between you two.

"Sure, I do. You got me there," you cooed, catching him off guard.

"Huh.." He sweatdropped, turning bright red. Killua's balance was starting to wobble.

Then, exploiting his moment of weakness, you tugged on his hair knocking him over.

Satisfied, you rested against Gon again. Thankfully the boy didn't seem to mind.

"Show off," You said, sticking your nose in the air.

"Man, that was so unfair!" Killua whined, sitting back down on the horse and dragging his hands down his face.

You crossed your arms, ready to deliver some witty comeback, when you noticed some bees in the distance that looked like they were carrying something. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were flying in closer.

"Hey guys, look at that," you pointed out. The horses stopped as one of the bees dropped the paper in Kite's hand.

Help!!

Chimera Ant Nest, Rocky Area

Notify Hunter Association!!

An SOS? And it appeared to be written in blood.

You cast a worried glance at Gon, who looked disturbed.

"It's Ponzu..."

Ponzu...? The name wasn't familiar to you at all. That must be somebody Killua and Gon knew from before you had met them.

The bee fluttered defeatedly around you before making its landing on your ring finger. Kite made the decision to leave the horses, with a message for the Hunter Association.

Even though they ran faster on foot, it didn't take much time until you came across an unsettling scene.

Or, what was left of Ponzu.

Blood soaked the ground. Articles of ripped-up clothing scattered the dirt, and there was not even a bone in sight. The putrid smell of iron overwhelmed your nostrils.

It was fresh blood.

If you had arrived even 15 minutes earlier, maybe Gon and Killua's friend would not have so barbarically killed. You felt sick to your stomach.

'This wasn't done by a human'

"This was done by a Chimera Ant," Kite finished your thought.

The look on Gon's face scared you. Most of the time, Gon was a sweet boy on a journey to find his father. But sometimes, you could spot a festering darkness threatening to take over his very being. You knew he would never tolerate his friends getting hurt, but you couldn't help but wonder if Gon was self-sacrificing, or perhaps selfish?

"I hate to consider the possibility, but it's possible that NGL's underground rulers have already been fed to the queen. What will happen if Chimera Ants are born with their genes..?" Kite trailed off, studying one of the bullet casings in the murder scene.

An unprecedented biohazard never seen before in human history, is what that meant. The worst-case scenario had just happened.

⋯✰⋯

That wasn't the last disturbing scene the four of you came across. In front of you now were three decaying horses, each speared through the stomach by its own tree. They resembled grilled chicken and steak kebabs.

The scent was even worse than the last incident. This time, they were rotting. Killua and you both covered your noses, in an attempt to block out the stench.

"It's like a morning sacrifice," Gon stated.

You remembered what that was. Back at home, sometimes birds would impale their prey on sharp objects like branches. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was the circle of life. What kind of monster could do this to not just one, but three 1,000 ton horses?

Your question was answered quicker than you had hoped.

"Trash. Those are mine!" The monster in question growled as he stepped foot out of the dense forest.

He looked like an overgrown bunny, with wings of a bird, thick-ass thighs, and seaweed green hair. And as for the vibe he gave off? You could safely assume he was just a stupid man-child.

"Wow. You're ugly," you deadpanned.

"You wanna say that again little brat?" He snarled, making the first move and charging right after you.

You quickly dodged his attack, but not before he came in contact with your arm. That was gonna leave a bruise.

Kite activated his aura, temporarily distracting the bunny-monster. It seemed to have noticed the change in atmosphere.

No way...was it possible? Had it already learned about the power of nen?

"Y/N, Gon, Killua... You three must deal with him yourselves. We'll be encountering more Chimera Ant soldiers like him. I won't be able to help you during combat, so if you can't defeat him, you will have to leave." Kite stepped back from the fight.

You nodded, Gon and Killua mirroring you. The three of you understood what hung in the fate of this fight.

"We told you before Kite, we're pros, not just kids!"

In sync, you all activated your nen together.

"Did you hear that bunny? I'm about to blow off those weird speedos of yours into the next dimension." You raised your hand in front of you, manipulating the wind to blow him away with every step that you advanced.

Killua was already in the air, prepared to test his thunder-bolt. In a flash of blue, dozens of lightning strikes were being zapped into the ant, immobilizing him. Gon's charged punch was enough to send him flying across the sky.

You saw his tail-puff shrink and sparkle in the distance as he was about to disappear, until something fast and unidentifiable swept him away.

Someone had been watching.

"He let his soldier do the fighting so that he could learn our abilities," Kite explained while walking towards the three of you again.

Gon and Killua looked disappointed. You hadn't even gotten a chance to use much of your powers during that fight. If you had finished it off, would that have been enough to prove yourselves?

"Are you coming?"

You looked up at Kite.

"There's no need to feel down, your attacks weren't that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity... But if you aren't prepared, you won't be able to endure it. Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us." Kite finished off, looking at each one of you in the eye with a resolute stare.

You knew that. Gon and Killua knew that also.

Even so, all three of you were prepared and eager to do whatever it takes to strengthen yourselves and help Kite save NGL.

⋯✰⋯

Kite looked serene as the light of the small campfire lit up his features. He and Gon had caught some fish for dinner earlier, while Killua and you set up camp. Now, you sat brushing arms with Killua, who was sitting next to Gon, who was huddled up close to Kite. The night was quiet, except for the cicadas singing in the trees and the thoughts running through you and your friend's minds.

There was a lot to think about.

Gon and Killua hadn't even been given the time to grieve over the loss of their past acquaintance, before being hit with the hard-hitting truth that the Ants were already evolving at a nightmarish rate. Nobody knew how many had gone missing or even more so been eaten. Yet everyone knew that the death count had already surpassed comprehensible numbers. Most likely, not everybody here would make it out alive.

But, the three of you consistently have proven the odds wrong. You held onto that fact like you held onto your pendant.

It reassured you.

It was obvious that the three of you had become inseparable over the past two years.

After you met Gon and Killua at Heaven's Arena, you'd never left each other's side.

Nobody would be going home without the other, because you had all found home within each other.

"Hey, Kite? What was your dad like?" Gon asked.

Kite looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden question. Turning his eyes to the starry night sky, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"I didn't know him. He disappeared when I was a child."

Gon hummed, waiting for Kite to continue. He knew that feeling too. It was an icy and empty feeling, not having a father figure in your life to guide you, praise you.

"I have very few memories of him, but they've all muddled together by now. Sometimes I can't tell if they're real or if I've convinced myself they are."

"....I think Ging would thank you."

This brought Kite's attention back to Gon.

"Thank me for what?"

"Well... You've been like a sort of mentor for me ever since we met, back on Whale Island. If it weren't for you, I would never have even become a hunter. Maybe I'm just a kid, but the past month it felt like I.. like I had a dad."

Your heart ached for Gon, who had been searching this whole time for his father in everyone he met and everything he saw. Gently, you placed your hand over his and squeezed it, wishing you could be of more comfort to him. Wishing you could turn back time and bring Ging back to his home, to Gon.

Kite's eyes softened as he looked at the boy, who offered a wobbly smile.

"Ging would be proud of you," he said, ruffling Gon's spiky hair.

That night, the glimmering moonlight had brought out your most vulnerable selves. You felt a honey-like warmth grow inside of you— a new member had just been added to your family. Killua seemed content, happy that his friend was smiling. And Gon's eyes matched the twinkling stars as he looked up to Kite like he was the most wonderful thing.

It was a special night. You knew deep down that you would treasure it, for a long time to come.

⋯✰⋯

[planetsam]

The impact is jarring.

“Shit, sorry,” the apology comes quickly and from his spot on the ground, Alex tries not to pray for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He wishes he had two left feet instead of the awful truth, “here, let me—“ he drags his eyes from the hand to the face and inhales sharply.

“Guerin?”

He looks different. Older. But the pain in his eyes is chillingly the same. Alex ignores the hand and finds his footing as he makes his way to his feet. It’s not how he saw this reunion going. Then again, nothing is how he saw it. Michael’s hand lingers for a moment before it falls to his side. He tucks it away before Alex can see the scars and while he appreciates the sentiment, they’ve been burned into the back of his eyes since the hammer was brought down. He focuses instead on Michael and forces himself to take in the man he’s become. He’d be lying if he said it hurts but he’s got no right to feel anything about how Michael’s turned out.

“Hi,” Michael says and however Alex was expecting his voice to sound, small is not it. Something shows on his face because he can pinpoint the instant Michael’s walls come down, “what are you doing here?” He asks.

“That’s—“

“Classified?” Michael offers and Alex rolls his eyes at his tone, “didn’t realize the ufo emporium was hosting actual aliens these days.”

“I was going to say none of your business,” Alex cuts in, “I figured you’d be long gone by the time I came back.”

Michael scoffs, looks away and Alex feels his hackles rise. Michael’s looking for a fight, again. Apparently nothing has changed. The scruffy, hollow look is still the same, he’s still finding sleep in the bottom of a bottle. Alex doesn’t know how someone so bright can throw their lives away like that, but hell there’s a lot about him Alex knows he’ll never understand. He’s got better things to do with his time anyway.

“I guess if you ever came back you’d have known,” Michael sneers. It’d be an ugly thing if there wasn’t something so sad about it.

“I never had a reason to come back,” he says instead, “and you’re right. Now the reason’s classified.

“Well I’ll let you get to your super secret alien business,” he says with a fake salute, “oh there’s a metal detector in there now,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks away, “don’t forget your keys, coins and whatever else you’ve got.”

Alex cringes at the thought of struggling out of his prosthetic. Or presenting that stupid card he was given. His mouth goes dry. He doesn’t want to answer the questions that will follow. Not today. He decides this trip was stupid, he’s not a teenager trying to get out of the house. He’s an adult who can leave whenever he wants.

Besides, he doesn’t exactly need to seek out memory lane when it’s apparently walking around town.

*

“Nothing ever changes with you, does it?”

Michael’s shoulders stiffen and Alex immediately regrets his question. He could blame it on the liquor but he knows that’s not it. Not after a night of watching Michael slip in and out of dark corners with different people. There’s a growing pain in the back of his skull but he’s pushed past worse. Right now he’s focused on Michael. Michael sets down the glass and glares at him.

“You got something to say?” He challenges and Alex feels his muscles tense.

“I just did,” he shoots back.

“Screw you,” Michael snaps and much to Alex’s shock he turns and walks away.

Maria shoots him a look and shakes her head but Alex is past caring. He follows him. He has orders to be here and he can’t do that if every moment Michael is there making different parts of him hurt. He follows him out into the night, wincing at the sounds of a fist slamming into brick. When he gets there Michael has his arms braced against the brick and his face turned away.

“What’s going on?” Alex questions.

“What the hell do you care?” Michael questions.

“There’s no way you’ve been on this kind of bender for this long,” he says, “you’d be dead.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“That’s not funny,” Alex snaps, “I have to be here,” he says, “I have orders. I have to be here,” Micheal presses his forehead against the brick, “it’s got nothing to do with you. You have—“

“No reason to go on a bender?” Michael fills in.

“Yes,” Alex says.

Michael makes a sound that sends chills down Alex’s spine. It’s a wounded sound, something that makes him think he’s never going to hear a laugh properly again. He had hoped pointing out he didn’t want to be there, that he wasn’t there for him, that it would somehow make things better. But the sound Michael makes makes him want to find a bottle and didn’t until he forgets it. The pain in his head spikes. Before he can help himself a hiss escapes his lips.

Michael’s reaction is instant. He steps out of the darkness and to Alex’s shock, his eyes go from his face to the one thing Alex has tried to keep hidden. Embarrassment sinks into his stomach as a thousand scenarios fly thought his head for how a Michael could have found out. Why he didn’t say anything. Who else could possibly know. Everyone, he reasons with a dry mouth. Everyone must know because it’s not enough that he gets his leg blown off and sent to torture his father with the reminder of how bad a soldier he is. No, he also has to show everyone that he can’t do the simplest thing like walk properly anymore. Michael’s eyes lock on his and Alex feels laid bare, like Michael knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Alex—“

“I have orders,” he repeats, “this is the only chance I have of serving my country,” Michael cringes, “I have to be here.”

“Yeah I know,” he says in that small voice again.

“No, you don’t,” Alex says, “I have to be here. I have orders.”

“I said I got it!” Michael says loudly, something desperate and defensive in his voice.

Alex doesn’t feel a breeze but there must be one that makes the lid of the trash can slam. It echoes in his rattled brain, sending the coming headache into overdrive. He wants to push past the pain and keep fighting but even he can tell there’s no victory to be had here. Michael seems to know it too. He scrubs his face wipes his hands before hiding them away.

“Just stay away from me,” Michael says, “it’s a small town but you can manage that.”

“The ‘small town’ isn’t the problem,” Alex says.

“Fine,” Michael shoots back, whatever he was about to say is lost to the tight press of his lips. Alex wants to pry his mouth open and snatch them out. Or do something even stupider but all he can do is nod, “see you around,” he says, “or hopefully not.”

Alex watches him walk away and realizes the sight is very, very painful.

**

“How did you know about my leg?”

Michael rolls his eyes as he drops his french fry. He looks annoyed and Alex knows he’s been trying to avoid him. Alex has been trying to avoid Michael in equal measure. It’s not hard on busy days. But proximity to Michael is fucking with his head. He’s turning every stupid moment over so many times it’s giving him literal headaches. He’s trained to push past the pain of things like that. But it’s an annoyance he wants to deal with.

“I googled it,” he says.

“No, you knew exactly where my leg was,” Alex says. Michael presses his lips together and looks away. The pain in his head throbs, “how did you know?”

“I could see the place,” he says, “through your pants. Danger of wearing tight jeans.”

Heat floods Alex’s face even though they both know that’s bullshit. He’s not expecting to see Michael’s face go pink as well, even though the real give away is the usual tell Michael has.

“I can’t tell if it’s worse that you’re lying to yourself or to my face,” Alex says.

“Think about it and get back to me,” Michael replies with a lop sided grin that makes Alex’s stomach do a flip flop he most certainly doesn’t need right now, “can I finish my fries, I gotta get back to work.”

“You have a job?”

“Yeah I have a job,” Michael snaps, though this is different than his usual retorts, “is that hard to believe?”

“A legal job?” Alex repeats.

“Oh my god—yes, Alex, I have a legal job,” Michael says, “Can I get this to go?” He asks loudly and then swivels to face him, “let’s keep avoiding each other.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex blurts out, still trying to process that Michael who has all the appearance and drinking habits of a small town criminal has a job, “I didn’t—“

“Yeah you did,” Michael cuts in, “I’m a mechanic,” he says and that small voice creeps in, the one Alex hates even as he is impressed at Michaels ability to let a stranger in, even a little bit, “I got my ASE.”

“I didn’t know,” Alex says.

Michael shrugs.

Alex turns from the sun as the pain hits harder. Michael swears under his breath and shifts forward but Alex holds up a hand to stop him. He shifts back though out of the corner of his eye Alex can see he’s ready to spring forward.

“I got it recently, that’s why it didn’t come up,” he says, his voice low and urgent, “that’s all.”

“Come up?”

“Of course you already looked me up, I just passed the exam. I don’t even have the certification yet. But we both know i passed, yeah? But it just didn’t come up, that’s all. If you look again it’ll be there now.”

Alex focuses on his voice and his own breathing as the sharp pain recedes. It’s manageable, it’s a linger ache which seems to be the best he gets these days. He looks over to Michael to say something but Michael is somehow already moving fast towards the door. He doesn’t look back as he goes, just gets the hell out of there as fast as he can. Like seeing Alex in pain is still something he doesn’t know how to deal with.

It’s confusing as hell but the bright light makes him turn away and when he looks back the truck is speeding off and Michael’s already gone.

When he goes back and looks it up, Michael’s name is in the database.

But the test is dated six months ago.

***

The headaches aren’t enough to distract him from the fact that he is being lied to.

And not in the usual way.

Alex has been fed lies his entire life. About being wanted and loved, about fitting in, about how if he accepted himself everyone else would too. It’s been a long time since he believed any of them. But the level that it’s been taken to is almost laughable. Almost. It’s weeks before he’s in the same room as Michael again. The funny thing is that some instinctive part of him still tries to trust Michael. Still clings to the brave, brave boy who would throw everything away to protect him.

“Been to a lot of drive ins lately?” Michael asks when they somehow wind up alone.

“Not unless you count my laptop and a humvee,” Alex says.

Michael snorts which is immediately calming and troubling. Michael’s always gotten his sense of humor but he’s always hated the military that hangs over Alex. The military and authority in general. The fastest way to get Michael to do something is to tell him to do the opposite, everyone knows that. Especially Michael himself. But Michael chuckles and Alex feels himself relaxing despite his best efforts to remain angry and on task.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Not really one for the drive in,” Michael says, drumming his thumbs on the bottle.

“Why’s that?” Alex asks.

“Come on, Alex,” Michael drawls.

The heat on his cheeks is back. He can just picture Michael and a long line of girls. Which feels—he doesn’t want to name the feeling that it inspires. He doesn’t have a right to that anymore. Michael can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants in the back of the truck. Instead Alex glances around until Michael gives him a questioning look.

“I’m just trying to decide if it’s safe to sit here,” he says.

Michael laughs in surprise but it’s a real laugh before he clutches his fist to his chest with fake dramatics.

“You know I take good care of my truck.”

Alex shakes his head but doesn’t argue for once because Michael has always taken good care of his truck. It’s why he’s the only person Alex knows who still drives his car from high school and it isn’t a complete death trap. He can also remember a time when he was the only one Michael made out with in his prized truck. Not half of Roswell. The bittersweet feeling lingers but for once the headache isn’t the thing that he’s most focused on. It’s almost nice to be sitting there with him. Even if the others would be back any second.

“So is Roswell as good as you remember?” Michael asks.

“Good? Are we talking about the same Roswell?” Alex asks, “remember when you couldn’t wait to get out of here?”

“Yeah but you did,” Michael points out, but there isn’t a challenge in his words for once, “so how’s it being back?”

Alex shrugs.

He wants to say being back sucks. That he regrets every second he’s spent away dreaming of this place because the reality is worse. He wants to grab Michael’s stupid lapels and demand to know why things are the way they are. Why everyone’s lying to him, why Michael lying to him is so much worse. He wants answers that not even Michael can give him. Like why his leg is gone or his head is hurting or what it’s like to get a full night of sleep. But Michael isn’t the brave boy who protected him and he’s not the type to ask the universe for things it won’t give him.

“I’ve been on worse deployments,” he says.

Michael shuts down.

Alex has computers that would be jealous of the speed which Michael goes silent and closed off. Like magic the rest of them are back and there’s no chance for anything except to sit there in the awkwardness. Alex gets through maybe half the movie before he gives up and slips away as best he can, before anyone can ask if he needs help.

“Nice ride,” Michael says from behind him. Alex glares at his reflection.

“You shouldn’t sneak up behind a solider,” he says.

“Sorry,” Michael says.

Alex glances down and realizes his hand isn’t on his firearm. He doesn’t feel the way that he usually does when people sneak up behind him. It’s another thing that doesn’t make sense in all of this. He turns around but doesn’t move out of the way. He should feel trapped, pinned, afraid. But he doesn’t. The more he thinks on it the more the pain in his head digs in. He’s hand enough of his body betraying him though. He can deal with the pain.

“Why did you follow me?” He asks.

“Came to see if you were okay,” Michael says.

“Why?” Alex asks.

Surprise gives Michael away. Or the lack of it anyway. He’s surprised at how Alex asks so directly but he doesn’t seem like the kind of surprised where there isn’t an answer. Or an answer he doesn’t want to say. He looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin or scream at the top of his lungs. When he reaches for more bullshit, Alex finds his patience snapping at the same time something seems to snap in his head. But he ignores the hot pain, he shoves past it. He’s survived worse than this.

“We used to be—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Alex cuts in, “this isn’t about what we used to be.”

“It always is,” Michael says.

“You’re doing it again,” Alex snaps. Michael blinks and looks confused in a much more honest way, “You keep getting this voice—“ he fights the urge to rub his temples, “this isn’t about what happened ten years ago.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael scoffs and if the wariness in his eyes didn’t give him away, the tongue over his bottom lip and heat in his face do.

“Yes I do,” Alex says, “you’re a miserable liar.”

The comment makes Michael’s jaw drop.

It also makes an explosion go off in his head.

Alex has a high tolerance for pain, it’s a virtue of his upbringing. This isn’t pain. He doesn’t have a word for what this is. It’s like his entire spine is being crushed into itself. His skull is going to break open, it has to. There’s no room for anything else in there. The words keep tumbling over in his head. Miserable Liar. Lying about something that’s just out of reach. He grips Michael’s forearms tighter, he strains to catch at whatever it is that keeps dancing just out of reach. The explosions keep happening, the pain is blinding and so is the heat. It hurts worse than anything but it isn’t the first time.

It isn’t the first time.

He’s been in three explosions, he doesn’t know how he knows that.

He remembers the one that took his leg.

He can’t say how he remembers the one that broke his heart.

And the third—

He reaches for the thought desperately and the answer comes to him a moment before he passes out.

The third took his mind.

****

“Here,” Michael puts the folded up cloth over his eyes, “shhh don’t try to talk,” he says as Alex parts his lips. Michael picks up his finger and puts it on his wrist, “tap once for yes, twice for no,” he says, “you want water?” Alex taps once.

It’s mildly humiliating to have to be helped to drink but the pain tempers the humiliation. Michael helps him lay down again, he sets the water glass to the side. The sound rattles Alex’s brain and Michael grips his hand back, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles until the waves subside.

“What happened to me?” He asks.

Michael seems to know not to tell him not to talk. Alex is touched and offended by the concern in equal measures. Michael doesn’t let go of his hand. Alex doesn’t have it in him to draw circles with his thumb or anything like that but he squeezes Michaels hand. Michael sighs several times like he’s trying to organize his thoughts. Alex opens his mouth to try and help with some kind of basic question but Michael cuts him off.

“You’ve been here for a year,” he says.

“What?!”

Alex shoves himself up before he remembers what a bad idea that is. The cloth goes flying as Michael lunges forward to steady him with one hand behind his neck and the other at his shoulder. There’s also a bin suddenly in his lap that he knows wasn’t there before but it saves him from puking on both of them. A bin magically appearing isn’t more stunning than finding out he’s missing a fucking year of his life. Or that he’s not in Michael’s trailer but some underground space with a chandelier that reeks of Michaels style and is an impossibly far cry from the trailer.

“Why can’t I remember?” He demands. The pain in his head flares and the dots finally connect, “it’s the headaches,” he says in case Michael hasn’t picked up on that. He lifts his head to see Michael’s shoulders sag, “what happened to me?”

“It’s a drug,” Michael says, “they inject it into your spine,” he taps the back of his neck, close to the base of his skull, “it takes away your memories and if you try to get them back,” he motions towards his sorry state.

“Who?” Alex demands. Michael cringes, “my father?”

“Your dad,” he licks his bottom lip, “this guy you were trying to date. Flint—“ he hesitates, “they did Flint first but he helped.”

Alex stares up at him, trying to reconcile the fact that he’s been experimented on, lost a year of his life and apparently was dating someone who helped do this to him. He’s almost grateful when his stomach turns over, though there’s nothing left in there to come out. If Michael hears the dry sob buried in the heaving he lets Alex have at least one shred of dignity and pretends he doesn’t. Alex fights back for control before putting the bucket aside.

“What am I missing?” He says.

“Alex—“ Michael starts, fear in his eyes. It’s fear now, Alex can place it. But it’s not fear of him. Michael’s scared for him. Which would be great if it wasn’t for the fact that he can already feel the throbbing coming back, “I can’t,” Michael says. 
“Yes you can,” Alex replies. Michael hesitates, “I need to know what’s going on,” Alex tells him, “Michael, please, I need to know what they took from me—from us.”

Michael cringes and looks away and Alex realizes he’s stumbled onto something. It makes sense that something would happen if he’s been there a year. He was trying to find a way to get Michael to give him the information he needed to know. Embarrassment curls through him, he deserves worse than hearing he was in two relationships he can’t remember.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Michel says finally.

“Michael,” Alex repeats his name.

“I’m gonna be the one who hurts you. Again,” Alex opens his mouth but Michael shakes his head and seems to come to some kind of decision. He goes for his belt and folds the leather over itself, “it’s been a year,” he says grimly, “you might need this.”

Alex takes the belt and goes to put the leather between his teeth.

“I might hurt you,” he says, “physically.”

Michael shakes his head.

“Trust me, that’s not going to be a problem.”

***

“I never thought I’d miss the days when you just ran away.”

Alex cracks open an eye to see Michael standing there. He’s wearing a black cowboy hat Alex does and doesn’t remember seeing him in. It’s a nice contrast if Max used to be a cop, Alex could remember nothing and he’d still remember the cops around here wear white stetsons. The light only hurts his eyes because he’s wasted and Michael’s positioned himself in the worst way. Which Alex has a feeling isn’t an accident.

“Are you enjoying being on the other side of this?” He asks. Michael shakes his head, “you could be the one who runs away this time,” he offers.

“I’m shit at it,” Michael says.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees.

“You’re shit at it too,” Michael adds, stepping out of the stupid light to join him against the wall.

“I guess we’re both just good at burning our lives down,” Alex muses.

“Guess we are,” Michael agrees, “you gonna stand up?”

Alex considers it but between the liquor and the brawl he was just in, he thinks the ground might be better. Michael nods and suddenly Alex isn’t sitting outside the Pony alone. Michael’s explained everything to him but if Alex had any doubt about how Michael feels it’s pretty much gone when he willingly drops onto the ground next to him so Alex doesn’t have to sit in the ruins alone.

“I was a better fighter when I had two legs,” he says.

“You beat him pretty soundly,” Michael points out, “he just got a few lucky shots in.”

It’s true, he’s sitting on the ground but his brother and his ex are probably gonna be eating liquid meals for a bit. Alex can’t say he regrets it.

“I gave them a chance to explain themselves,” he tells Michael, “I didn’t just attack them.”
 “You don’t have to explain,” Michael says quickly.

“I mean I’m not going to—“ he winces at the thought of Michael holding him down with his fucking mind and wonders why it’s important he reassures him, “if you thought I was.”

“Thanks,” Michael says and there’s no humor in his eyes even though Alex is pretty sure he’s just made a hysterical joke, “I’d understand if you did,” Michael adds, “after—“

“That’s not your fault,” he cuts in.

“Come on,” Michael counters, “we both know that’s not true.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex emphasizes, “I don’t blame you for it.”

Michael hangs his head. Alex doesn’t. There’s a lot of messed up shit in the story Michael told him that Alex could and does blame him for. But him losing his memories, the bomb, the things that led to this? Alex can keep the things he does blame him for separate from that.

“You’re not a saint Michael,” he says, “but you’re not a monster,” he looks over at him, “and this,” he motions to his head, “it’s not your fault.”

He knows Michael doesn’t believe him, he also knows it’s impossible to convince him. He can only hope that Michael doesn’t think he has to self-flagellate. Michael sighs and cracks his knuckles. He isn’t hiding his hands anymore. Alex wishes it was that easy to feel like he doesn’t have to hide his leg. Or lack of. It’s strange to have Michael have so much and Alex have nothing. On one hand he’s happy for him. On the other—Alex can put that feeling aside in the place where he puts all his feelings about Michael that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“Are you done burning down your life?” Michael asks. Alex shrugs, “Alex?”
 “That wasn’t my life,” he says simply, “I’m done if they are,” he offers.

Michael sighs loudly.

They both know the answer to that.

“You know this whole time I thought all of this was my fault,” Michael says.

“Are you disappointed?” Alex asks and the sarcasm brings a genuine smile to Michael’s face. His nose wrinkles.

“You know I kinda am,” he says.

Alex can’t remember the last time he laughed until his ribs hurt. It isn’t even that funny. Maybe it’s just that laying in the back of an alleyway with Michael laughing in the wreckage of both their lives, there’s something real. Even if that something is just a fucked up connection he can’t fully explain. It’s funny and it’s tragic and the wetness on their cheeks could be from either of those things. Or just from the exhaustion and pain that’s ruled their lives for God knows how long. A year? Ten? Always?

Michael looks over at him and it’s the easiest thing to push himself closer.

It’s Michael who pulls back.

“We can’t,” he says. Alex stares at him but lets him keep going, “I can tell you the fucked up shit I did, but you don’t remember,” he says, “that’s not fair to you,” Michael adds, squeezing his eyes shut, “shit none of this is fair to you.”

“I might never remember,” Alex points out.

“Yeah,” Michael says.

“Did you stop caring?” He asks. Michael shakes his head, “could you?”

Michael doesn’t hesitate when he shakes his head. Alex knows he feels more for Michael than he has for anyone. But those feelings haven’t stopped either of them from doing fucked up things to each other. He can’t blame Michael for not wanting to do anything more with them. It’d be a lot easier if he thought that was what was happening.

“I haven’t stopped caring for you,” he says.

“You did,” Michael tells him, “not that I blame you. With all the fucked up shit I did.”

Alex nods.

“You did a lot of messed up things,” he says, “but I don’t think I stopped caring for you,” he looks at Michael, “deep down I don’t think you believe that either. I think you want to, but I don’t think you do.”

Michael looks away. Alex hates being the manifestation of Michael’s need to punish himself more than he hates any role he’s been shoehorned into. Including being Jesse Manes’ son. He doesn’t have the words for that. He’s not sure the words for it have been invented. For someone you would rather sit on the ground with than be warm and dry. Or anywhere else. Alex has wanted to fit in places before but he’s never found that sense of acceptance he remembers with Michael.

“Do you think we can get past it?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” Michael says, “do you want me to go?”

“No.”

**

“You sure this is okay?”

Alex looks up at the sight of Michael standing in his doorway. He nods without any hesitation. Michael is very much of the ‘alternative living’ dwelling but living above a bunker with alien stuff has draw backs. Like some long lost alien relative coming and blowing it up. Alex isn’t sure how he beat Isobel to the offering of Michael coming back with him, but he was pulling into his driveway with Michael’s truck following. Alex is at least grateful the truck survived with only minor dings.

“I’m sorry about your bunker,” he says. Michael nods, “is there anything I can do?”

“Can we look for the piece of my ship?”

Alex nods, grateful for anything to do. He can’t remember and Michael only has a few clues like the bag he shoved it in. So they turn the house upside down, pausing only for snacks and beers. It beats dreaming about Michael losing another home and him being powerless to stop it. Of course the cabin with all its secrets doesn’t make this easy. Why would anything be easy when it comes to them.

“This is like being drunk and hiding something from yourself,” Michael says, half under the bed, “you know?”
 “No,” Alex says honestly, “the stuff I hid I wanted to keep hidden. From my dad, or enemy insurgents.”

“There’s a difference?” Michael asks. Alex snorts and lays back, looking up at the wood beams, “you’re too good at this.”

“Sorry,” he says, “I do it professionally, if that’s any consolation.” 
“Not really.”

Alex tilts his head. He spent years picking out patterns and discrepancies. Code and buildings aren’t terribly different when it comes to the patterns. And he’s always been good when it comes to discrepancies. He rolls over to the painting against the wall.

“Can you get the painting off?”

Michael comes out from under the bed and blows his curls out of his eyes in a gesture that shouldn’t be so adorable. Or so hot. He looks at the painting and frowns. Then it swings out, hinged to the wall. The keypad there is like a cruel joke. He likes to think he knows himself but the missing year taunts him.  He looks at the pad and then at Michael. Michael stares at the pad for a moment and then punches in a code.

“Glad I told you,” Alex says, reaching in and pulling out the bag.

“You didn’t,” Michael says. Alex looks over at him, surprised.

“What was the code?”

“Date of our high school reunion,” Michael says.

Alex isn’t sentimental about a lot of things. Not in any version of himself. Tangible things can get broken too easily to be important. He passes Michael the bag and looks inside the safe. Everything in it is practical. Which he should have expected but finds himself disappointed all the same. He wishes his memories were in there. But the ship piece will have to do. He looks as Michael pulls out the piece of glass, the colors going blue around his handprints.

“It’s beautiful,” Alex says.

Michael nods, turning the piece over in his hands. The light trails across where he touches, changing the colors reflected across his skin. He’s beautiful. Alex is grateful that he was able to hide it, that he was able to give it back. No matter what happened in between that and him losing his memories. It’s a small thing but Alex has long since learned to be grateful for small victories. Especially when the big ones are so far between.

“I’m glad we found it,” he says, breaking through whatever spell has fallen over Michael and the last remaining piece of his home. It’s jarring and he wants to snatch the words back, even as something in the marrow of his bones tells him to stop him. That the longer he stares the more likely it is he’ll go. “What’s the date?”

“The date?” Alex nods and Michael seems to jerk back to life, “oh yeah,” he rattles it off and Alex tucks the numbers away, memorizing them easily.

“I have to figure out a way to remember these,” he says, “in case my dad tries something like this again.”

“You can just ask me,” Michael offers.

Alex’s mouth goes dry. He wants to say that he believes their friendship would be strong enough that if it happened that would be true. But the things they don’t say or can’t say have started piling up again already. There’s an ache that hangs over their relationship, their friendship, and Alex doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“Yeah but just in case,” he says. 
“In case of what?” Michael presses. Alex blows out a breath.

“I don’t know, in case you decide to take a trip somewhere,” he says, “or you meet someone and move away. Or you’re busy,” he shrugs, “you know, just in case.”

He closes the safe and gives Michael a good extra few seconds to collect himself. He hears Michael put the glass piece back in the bag and he still takes his time before turning to face him.

He isn’t expecting Michael to be so close.

“I meet someone new?” Michael repeats.

“It’s going to happen eventually,” Alex points out then shakes his head, “no it already did. We both did.”

“And look where that got us.”

It’s a challenge and Alex desperately wants to fight back. But Michael has been clear—as clear as Michael ever is about his feelings when he isn’t broadcasting them. He has a year of fucked up memories of them that Alex has made his peace with he’ll never get back. It’s like his leg. They’re gone. There’s a time to mourn and then it’s time to move on. He can’t blame Michael for not wanting to be with someone who can’t remember moments like the ones he has. He can only blame him for not wanting to move past it with him.

“You said in the alley—“
 “I know what I said,” Michael snaps, “but I didn’t know.”

“Know what? What changed?”

“I didn’t know you had the reunion as the code to your safe.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

“You’re the only one whose surprised at that,” he shoots back, “I told you—“

He gets why Michael put the glass piece down when his back hits the wall and Michael’s lips find his. The world slips away as he melts into the feeling. If he remembers nothing ever again he’ll remember the taste of Michael’s mouth. How he presses up the extra quarter inch like it makes a fucking difference. His hands are on Alex’s cheeks and then at his waist like he can’t figure out where to touch first. The frantic energy crackles between them and Alex has no idea how he didn’t know Michael was an alien. Or maybe Michael being special just eclipsed all of it.

Any awkwardness Alex envisioned for his first time without both his legs is gone. Michael doesn’t cringe at his prosthetic and when the bed moves in a way that’s got nothing to do with what they’re doing, Michael doesn’t have a chance to be embarrassed. They lay on his bed after gasping unsteady breaths.

“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t make up the couch,” Michael says.

Alex might feel love drunk but that doesn’t stop him from smacking Michael with the pillow.

* “I should have known when you said there was a metal detector,” Alex realizes aloud.

Michael cringes and ducks his head, focusing back on the car he’s working on. Because he is actually a very good mechanic and all it takes is a simple sign saying his customers can find him in Alex’s driveway for the operation to move there temporarily. From his spot on the porch Alex can work without the sun in his eyes while Michael buries himself in cars.

“I was just trying to keep you from getting those headaches,” he says.

“The UFO Emporium still runs on floppy disks,” Alex says, still flabbergasted he fell for it, “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“To be fair,” Michael begins, stepping out from under the hood, “I was banking on you still thinking your leg was new and being too embarrassed to risk it.”

“No I know,” Alex says, “but I worked there, I should have known there was no way they would install a metal detector.”

“They might one day,” Michael offers.

“If they do we should move,” Alex says turning back to his screen, “it’ll be a sign of the apocalypse.”

“Or an alien invasion.”

Alex rolls his eyes and looks over at Michael who flashes a grin that makes his cheeks burn. The alien thing is, in some ways, easier to get used to than openly dating. Which seems backwards in his head but it’s not in this situation.

“Speaking of signs of the apocalypse, invasions and unbelievable things,” Michael says, “you know we’ve been dating a month.”

“I know,” Alex says, “that reminds me, I changed the safe combination to today,” he glances up at Michael, “in case I forget.”

Despite them dating for a month and all the other stuff, the gesture does exactly what Alex was hoping it would. Michael goes pink around the ears and blows his curls off his forehead before turning back to the car.

“I’ll remember,” he says.

“I know.”

[cheseyre]

good news, sluts! my brain's no longer being completely stupid (only mostly), i've seen the new asides and...have some thought-y thot thoughts:

*deep inhale*

Okay, first things first: this art style is soooo fucking cUTE and I'm a jealous, squealing bitch. Anyone who knows who the artist is, could you link me to them, stat? I think Thomas mentioned them at the beginning of the ep, but nYeh, brain hurt, doesn't wanna do wooork-

Okay, I'll admit, I was a little...apprehensive when I first saw the thumbnail and title. Part of it's just me being a bitter Remus Stan, but also...okay, deep breaths, controversial opinion time, get ready:

I don't ship Prinxiety.

Like, at all. 

I can see the appeal, and these dorks were so very, VERY cute in this particular ep, but I was honestly turned off by the ship long ago due to how overwhelmingly popular it is and how some fans characterize these two and treat this relationship as if it's the only valid one, y'know, the works—slight tangent, but that's also why I don't ship Logicality or Remile. I honestly vibe much better with ships like Roceit or Analogical, y'know?

Cutting in for another brief tangent: I'm surprisingly okay with Demus/Dukeceit/Receit/Trashnoodle/Whatever-Their-Ship-Name-Is-Oh-God-Why-Do-They-Have-So-Many-Fucking-Names; maybe it's cause they haven't actually interacted in canon and the fan content gives me such good Gay Disney Villain content, idk man im weird—).

Still, their interactions were both hilarious and sweet and like I said, I see the appeal, it's just not my cup of tea. y'all Prinxiety fans got fucking FED and I'm happy for you nerds. Enjoy ze happy boys!

I guess another factor in my...low-key hesitance when I first saw what the ep was about is that...okay, get ready, another controversial opinion, le gasp: well, I'm not a big Virgil fan. In fact, at times, he swaps places with Patton as my least favorite sides—especially with some of his recent behavior in eps like DWIT (the "prohibit your breathing comment" really triggered me, for example). Sometimes, his attitude, especially around other sides like Roman or Janus, reminds me a little too much of my sister, who I don't have...a very good relationship with. Add to that how the more...intense side of the fandom has a disturbing tendency to turn him into the 'uwu precious woobie emo baby who can do no wrong' while unnecessarily villainizing other CERTAIN sides in the process, and...I think you all see where I'm going with this little rant 😅

However, upon actually watching the ep, he wasn't...that bad? I don't think? I enjoyed watching him be a flustered, disaster-y mess and genuinely excited at the end, his interactions with Roman were nice enough, and him literally pushing Thomas to make a move with Nico despite his obvious panic attack was a nice moment of genuine character development. I like seeing that, that's the good shit right there. And him being all flustered and shit, and smiling so much at the end of the vid was just...well, adorable. This man has no fucking right to be this cute, my god

alsoooo 

pURPLE EYESHADOW

PURPLE EYESHADOW HE LOOKS?? SO GOOD?? WTF?? SLAY EMO, SLAAAAAAAY FUCK, DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO CHANGE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NOW?

alsoooo 

hAPPY ROMAN

YESSSSS~ MAH BOI MAH SON MAH DUMB BITCH HIMBO PRINCE MAH EXTRA MESSY CINNAMON ROLL

ITS  BEEN SO  LONG

AND HIS LITTLE HEART EYES THROUGHOUT THE VID, OH MY GOD-

IMMA JUST IGNORE THAT "ADDING [MISTAKE] TO THE LIST" COMMENT I AM LOOKING AWAY I DO NOT SEE IT LALALALALA

THOMATHY, SIR, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT MAKING THESE TWO GAY IDIOTS SO BAEBY

Okay, but Virgil not realizing that "cyberstalking in real life" is literally just stalking is both a big ass mood and further proof that, yes, Logan is indeed the only one holding the braincell out of this disaster of a lot. God help them all if he ducks out in the next ep.

👀

And Thomas x Trash Can is my new OTP.  I dub thee ✨ "Trashmas" ✨

we sTAN TRASHMAS

Wait, does that mean Remus actually WAS in the ep? Cause, y'know, trash man?

hmmm

👀 👀 

Okay, okay. 

With how much Virgil and Roman were going off about Thomas constantly lying, I was (understandably) a tad bit disappointed my snek son didn't even make a fucking cameo, but y'know what? In hindsight, I'm okay with this it's fineee~

He was just off playing with shadow puppets and stealing money from us desperate, content-starved peasants with his sheer extra-ness and, honestly? Gotta respect the hustle. 

Get that precious, precious coin, dapper snake! Wring us poor losers dryyyy!

*evil snek laugh*

Also, this is a breather ep and adding Janus in probably would've caused unnecessary drama with the Roceit breakup and the constant antagonism between Virgil and him. It probably would've distracted from the point of the ep (flirting with social anxiety, exactly what it says in the tin)—much like it wasn't really Virgil or Remus's place to show up during POF. Does that make sense? I think it makes sense. Sorry, brain going brr-

Still, I can't believe the "Fuck Janus Sanders" Club is actually canon now 😂

God, first Patton in a skirt and now this. 

Thomas Sanders, you delight in fucking feEDING this gremlin nest of a fanbase, don’t you? You RELISH our screams of joy and pain and suffering, dON’T YOU?

What's next, actual canonical Janus and Remus interaction? Patton saying the fuck word? The Dragon Witch comes back? Janus's bowler hat gains sentience and takes over the world, Doris-style? What do you have planned, Thomas? Joan? WHAT ART THOU PLANNING, I MUST KNOW YOU HEATHENS YOU FIENDS-

And Virgil's little "would it be fair to him" comment, tho.

👀

Like, I get in the context of the ep, he was likely talking about Nico and how it wouldn’t be good for a potential relationship with Tomas to be founded on lies, but still...my anxceit heart aches, man. 

Gimme that sweet, sweet angst with a side of mutual regret and possible future reconciliation and maybe something more wink wink nudge nudge on top, pls

...and fries.

Honestly, tho, that entire bathroom monologue was fucking beautiful, man. And relatable, too—i can't tell you how many times I've talked to myself in public restrooms because I just didn't know how to get the words I wanted to say out. It's...kind of embarrassing, tbh

Speaking of embarrassing, uh, crying stall guy.

Just...

Crying Stall Guy

Like, I was expecting someone to come out the bathroom stall after Thomas stopped talking, but...I honestly wasn't expecting that. God, that whole scene was so cringe worthy and fucking hilarious

Honestly, Thomas in the ep in general was a huge ass mOOD and we collective gay/bi disasters ALL related with him, and if you say you don't, you're either lying to yourself or a demon. 

There is no in between 

sorry I don't make the rules

Like, I get this series is literally a gay disaster talking to himself for thirty minutes or longer, but like- EMPHASIS on the 'disaster' part 😂

Like...Thomas, you're lucky you're such a goddamn bean, because GOD, I cringing so hard when he first started talking to Nico

Although, I too have apologized profusely for genuine mistakes and am a flustered bi mess around my crush sooo

😅

And god, Roman's "thirty = old man" jokes made me feel old...and I literally just turned twenty, like, come on, man!

Maybe that's because I was literally watching this ep after finishing my ACT and had been sitting with a bunch of high schoolers, with their tiny fucking desks and tiny fucking water fountains smeh

*clears throat*

Anyways, uh, we STAN Nico Pintrovert Florés in this house

Like

He gives me such big Carlos from WTNV vibes for some reason and this makes me sooo happy

and YESS, he's a WRITER

And he's??? So sweet?? A pure bean?? Just sits on his laptop at the mall food court all day, like a god-fucking iCON?? A Nightmare Before Christmas fan?? weARS GLASSES??

my hEART

*cries*

The fandom seems torn between "Nicomas" and "Karrot Kings" as a ship name atm—personally speaking, I'm casting my vote for the latter

*crosses fingers* please dont be another janus x remus multiple ship name issue guys, please please please I can't keep track of them all-

*clears throat*

On that note, I'm guess I'm gonna go try and whoo over my crush with carrots now. If THIS disaster can do it and make it actually fucking work, god damnit, so cAN I

Meanwhile, in hell, my brain's just screaming "CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST-"

God, I hope Nico isn't just a one-shot character, he's too pure and Thomas and him are adorable gay Disney fans and I stan

Oh, I wonder how the other sides'll react to him.

Wait.

Oh god.

Oh god.

This ep just unleashed a new fresh hell of potential Nico x Sides ships, hasn't it?

Welp, time to prepare for ze incoming flood of fanfics, I guess. I'll get my umbrella and rain boots.

That last shot of Virgil during the endcard was so fucking ominous oh my god mom im scared can you come pick me up-

Goddammit, Thomas and Joan, I'm NOT fucking ready to be traumatized again, fUCK

I wish I wasn't a broke ass university student so I could contribute to Thomas's gloriously extra Patreon—both so I can support my favorite content creators who make this amazing blessed content and also, to join my boi Janus in fucking  destroying society by giving money to the people who actually deserve it, fuck YOU GOVERNMENT-

Okay. 

Okay. 

New headcanon time as to why Patton, Remus, and Logan weren't in the ep: they were helping Jan film that Patreon promotional video. 

Like

Remus directed it, Logan helped with the lighting and script, and Patton was just there as the cheerleader. 

The reason Janus made a dog with shadow puppets wasn't just to flaunt his deity status and prove how he is truly above us mere wretched mortals 

despite that being the absolute truth and we all know it, don't lie to yourselves

No, it was really him trying to do something cute and silly for Patton, because Moceit rights, daMMIT

*inhales*

noww 

guys, gals, and nonbinary pals

it’s time forr

the most wonderful time of the yearrr

WAITING FOR THE NEXT EPISODE

Step right up, folks! Hear ye, hear ye, my prediction for the next episode: Prinxiety v. Moceit! With special guest stars: Karrot Kings vibing in adorable gay and Intrulogical, bitter at being excluded aGAIN

Who will win? Who will lose? 

here’s a hint: we all will because in this sick twisted game they are no winners only losers-

Place your bets, folks! ✨

Haha im not readyyy~

tl;dr

this episode has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and ended my suffering—an adorable calm before the... angsty fucking shitstorm that’s coming far too soon. Prinxiety stans, enjoy your food. Place an 'F' in the chat for me and my fellow grieving Remus stans. Trashmas is the true OTP, but Karrot Kings is cute too I guess. I've only had Nico Florés for 24 minutes, but if anything happens to him, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself. Purple eyeshadow Virgil makes me question my sexuality aGAIN, and happy gay disney prince rights y'all. Say a big ole 'fuck you' to capitalism by giving your local dapper snake moneys. Concussion makes brain go brr and imma go buy some carrots and be gay now.

psst hey @quarantinevibes2020​ you wanna join me in being disaster-y? i’ll bring my best gay stare and you bring the wine

Until next time, my lovelies! ~ Ches 🖤

[kpopisamood]

Queen’s Clan { 19 }

Summary: y/n is plagued by nightmares. She realizes that the more she runs away, the less frequently they haunt her. However, in running away, she’s also running straight into her ultimate demise. Will she be saved in time by those who would lay down their lives for her, even if they don’t know of each other’s existence?

Monsta X/Reader, Human/Vampire(s), Reverse Harem

Warnings: needles, breeding talk

Word count: 1.8k

Tag list: @noonaduck @lovinggalaxies @elenaramos1 @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @snowythellama @stargazersara @luvthatleader-nim @jooheonbee @vincent-stargogh @perrshian @kurochan3 @imbxckytrash @joonsgotthejuice @mymymywonderland @2ka-tja2 @qween-of-trash @senpai-creampai @shorty-will-notice @atricksterwithwings

***

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You warned, taking a cautionary step back.

“Y/N, we just need one tiny, little—“

You cut Shownu off by throwing a chair. “Nope, you don’t need shit!”

You were embarrassingly surrounded by your Clan. All set on getting some kind of sample from you.

“We just need a couple vials and then it’ll be over. If it wasn’t safe, we wouldn’t let them near you. Honest.” Wonho approached slowly behind you, trying to corner you with Shownu and Jooheon while Minhyuk and Changkyun watched in earnest, laughing whenever you lashed out.

Shownu tried lunging at you before you yelped and chucked another chair at him, narrowly missing his brute strength. He huffed in annoyance when Changkyun fell to the floor laughing.

“You could help, ya know?” Wonho snapped at the two.

“We could, but we’re not touching her with a ten foot pole after the stunt you pulled with her doctor.” Minhyuk politely informed, keeping his stare on your shaking form.

Truthfully, your little tantrum was a bit dramatic and overdone. The doctors wanted a few vials of your blood plus other bodily liquids to test to figure out your fertility and social status. You’d fed your guys before and blood wasn’t an issue. But the long needles and the fact that they wanted to test you for other anomalies while your Clan Mates directly lied to you about the procedures they wanted to undergo were what threw you off. You’d thought it would be a simple physical, and that’s what your Mates had said. But the procedure itself was very invasive. Granted, it was something all new Queens had to do and only had to do once in their lifetimes. But it was necessary for the Elders to know everything there was to know about their Royals. Everything down to the last follicle would be taken into account. Nothing left untouched.

This was why you were a tad angry.

“Should we call Kudrow?” Jooheon asked softly, hiding behind Wonho’s bigger frame.

“You call her, it’s the last call you make.” You warned with a smile.

Shownu ran at you and all but tackled you away from Jooheon, signaling the younger to go and call your Guardian to help. Wonho rushed after and held onto you, sandwiching you between the two walls of muscle they made up.

But you were also getting stronger by the day.

In a frenzy, you scratched Shownu’s forearm, making him hiss out and drop his arms in surprise. Wonho held on tighter and before you knew it, he’d picked you up by your bottom and crashed his lips onto yours. You’d fought against his kiss for a few seconds then sighed in defeat when Shownu stood behind you, keeping you locked into place against Wonho.

You slowly grinded against the latter, giving just as much passion as he was giving. He licked roughly at your bottom lip, demanding access and you wholeheartedly let him in. Your tongues fought in a dance of dominance before he gave up and let you take what you wanted from him. Shownu growled behind you and suddenly, you were being handed off to him. You whimpered at the loss of contact from Wonho but Shownu immediately set to work, showing you exactly why you chose him as your Mate. He lightly nipped at you and would slow the kiss down to tease you while shifting his hands under you to get to your clothed center and you huffed in annoyance whenever he would tease around it, not fully touching you where you wanted.

“The faster you get these samples done, love, the faster we can get back to this,” Wonho whispered in your ear before lightly biting on the lobe.

All at once, you were set down and left in a heated mess. You noted that you weren’t the only one hot and bothered when you looked at your Clan. Changkyun was quirking his eyebrow at you in a sarcastic manner, Minhyuk was smirking at you, Shownu was panting soundlessly, and Wonho’s lips were red from your little make out session.

“She’s here with the nurses!” Jooheon ran in excitedly, Kudrow waltzing in a second later with two females who wore medical masks.

You sighed as you nodded and walked with the two medical professionals who would be doing invasive checkups with you for awhile. You’ve gotten certain physicals done before, but they wanted to check everything; organs, blood type, anything which could be passed off to your...heirs. Plural. Yikes.

Your Clan had wanted to come and give you support but after a heated glare from you, decided it would be best to leave you alone while you underwent the invasive physical.

They needed to talk to Miss Kudrow anyway.

***

“Should we be worried about Hyungwon’s intentions?” Minhyuk asked her.

“After meeting with his Guardian, I don’t think he has any ill intentions for Miss L/N. However, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious at all times. His reputation is still in place and the other Royals will be looking at her to see where her loyalty lies. If she decides to mate with him,” Changkyun growled softly. “she could very well be stepping on loyalty lines and perhaps cause a civil war between some Royals and that’s not including herself. If she doesn’t, she could become a target for Hyungwon. He doesn’t have a big Clan, but he doesn’t need one. There’s a reason why he’s been alive all these years with so little protection.”

Jooheon frowned before voicing his own thoughts. “If we were to meet with him, do you think he’d be willing to compromise?”

All heads snapped to him, all angry or in disbelief at his words. “You’d give in to him?” Wonho demanded.

“No, I said compromise. What if, instead of allowing him to mate with her, we ally with him?” Jooheon proposed.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Miss Kudrow cut off Wonho’s next angry outburst. “But to step down from a mating to an ally is a major downgrade and you’d have to put something else on the table he may want. Do you have anything he’d bargain for?” She asked.

They didn’t. Not that they knew of right now, anyways.

“If she mates with him, could we persuade him to keep our Clan intact?” Minhyuk voiced, wondering just how far his Clan would go for their Queen.

Shownu growled lowly before calming down with deep breaths and focusing his attention on his Queen’s Guardian, also wanting to hear of a possible outcome of an almost impossible circumstance.

“You probably couldn’t,” they all looked down in defeat. “But she could.”

***

“We want to talk about the possibility of you mating with Hyungwon.”

After an hour of testing, the last thing you wanted were your Mates bombarding you. You’d felt like less than cattle, being poked and prodded while nurses nodded to each other and murmured about your physical traits. It was very intimidating and it took everything in you not to cringe when they slid needle after needle under your skin, but you refused to let them know how much it bothered you. Something in you was too proud.

You lazily turned to Minhyuk, the gentler of your Mates. He was quite mischievous with the others, but you noticed he turned a softer side when you were present.

They had sent their best negotiator to talk to you.

“Now you guys want me to mate with him?” You asked, narrowing your eyes slightly.

Minhyuk smiles gently and grabbed your hands, looking deep into your palms. “What do you think about mating?” He asked instead.

Mating. You were aware of what went down during the process but you weren’t sure exactly why it was such a major issue with Royals.

He took your silence as an answer and continued, “A mating is quite different from bonding. We are all bonded to you for life. But mating, is when you choose who to conceive with. It’s the greatest honor for anyone asked.”

“So this is a breeding livestock situation?” You deadpanned.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, a mating is choosing someone you think will have upstanding qualities with your heirs.”

There it is again. Heirs.

“Why is everyone talking like I’m gonna pop out a litter?”

A roar of laughter sounded off somewhere in the house and you realized your other Mates were listening in on this somewhat misogynistic conversation.

“Who you choose to mate with is one person and one person only. That person will be the only one allowed to give you an heir. However, they will not be allowed to rule alongside you. That is strictly a Royals only decree.”

“And you all want me to mate with Hyungwon?”

“We’re open time the possibility of you wanting to end this tension. It may seem fast to you, but would you rather mate him or one of us?” He looked up at you, a suspicious glint in his eye that you couldn’t make out.

“I—don’t want to have this conversation yet. I’ve only just found out I’m not entirely human and now everyone wants to breed me like I’m an animal.” You pulled your hands out of his larger ones and frowned. Was this all you were to your Clan? Someone to make heirs? Someone who had status so long as they made babies?

Loud, thunderous footfalls echoed around you and before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted up and positioned to sit on a thick lap.

Wonho.

“You don’t have to have this conversation. We were worried about Hyungwon possibly trying to start something so we chose Minhyuk to ask you to do the easier option.”

“Easier for who?” You demanded, trying to pull away again, but he refused to let you go.

“Easier for Hyungwon. However, we do have another option. One that’s likely impossible for him but perhaps easier for you.”

You looked at him then, seeing his solemn face.

“You can try to persuade him to be your ally rather than Mate. He won’t stop pursuing you but you could offer him other ways to hopefully dissuade him.”

Why hadn’t they just offered this before making you feel insignificant.

“The thing is, if you ally with him, you have to give him something he wants. And he’s made it pretty clear he wants you.”

Shit. Double shit.

So how’s everyone in quarantine? Y’all alive? I posted this because I have too much time now so let me know what y’all think and if y’all are okay!

[nalgenewhore]

evil woman - two

TW: Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Addiction, Cheating 

It had been a couple weeks since Aelin’s birthday and Elide could count on one hand how many times she had been outside her apartment. 

She had opened the door for Rowan and that was only because he used his key and practically force fed her. 

Now he was aggressively washing dishes that he deemed too ‘dusty’, as she had only ordered takeout, not finding it in her to cook for herself. It just reminded her of how they used to spend evenings in his kitchen, far too happy and deliriously in love. Those were the good days, where he woke up with clear eyes and music flowing from his fingertips, the ones where he would pluck gentle melodies on the beat-up guitar he refused to give up, insisting that it was his lucky charm and had been there from the start. Elide would laugh and smile, tricking herself into thinking that this time it would last, this time would be the one where he realized that the other side of him was hurting her and would tell her that he was home forever. 

Those good days started slipping away from him and Elide spent her time hoping for another one. 

The bad days got worse and worse and became bad weeks, then bad months. He would stay out all night, would ignore her calls and texts, turned off his location. That old guitar went back in its case and shoved into a storage unit. His eyes became glazed with a cocktail of substances and Elide couldn’t remember the times she waited up with him, the times she stuck her fingers down his throat, how many times she held him as he sobbed, holding back her own tears as he shook and sweated on the tiled floor of their bathroom, the times she put up with the slew of nastiness he spewed everywhere. 

It shamed her. How long she had stayed, how long she had let her life go this way. 

That day she hopped on a plane to surprise him had been her last attempt at waiting for him. She told herself as she packed a bag, that if nothing changed, if he was still like that, she would leave that frozen montage her life had become and be able to breathe again. Be able to be happy. 

It was a blessing disguised as heartbreak. 

“Ro,” she said, “the dishes are clean.” 

“They aren’t.” 

“Yes they are, why can’t you just-” 

“Relax? Or be like you, lazy and uncaring?” His voice was harsh and cold and she didn’t know it would hurt this bad to have those words thrown at her. 

Elide raised her chin, staring down her nose at him, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. “Go home, Rowan.” 

Rowan’s icy fury cracked and a puff of air escaped his lips, “I- I didn’t mean that, Ellie, it wasn’t about you.” 

“Go home” she repeated, standing and walking past him to her room. Her door slammed shut behind her. 

Elide sat herself on the edge of the bed, looking down at her hands. She heard a shuffling noise and then Rowan’s voice, “I, I’m sorry, El. That wasn’t my place. There’s food in the fridge and I’ll call in the morning, alright? Bye.” She didn’t say anything, too stubborn to speak to him.

There was the sound of receding footsteps and then the door closed behind him. 

Elide let the tears slip down and after a moment or two, her sadness and desperation turned to white-hot anger. 

He had ruined everything. 

He wasn’t even around anymore and still, he was this huge shadow hanging over everybody’s head. He was the monster hiding in her closet, he was the demon that made her cower under her duvet. 

After her anger left her, she felt hollow and decided that she should probably eat something so she moved out to the kitchen, opening the fridge and finding it in herself to smile at the food Rowan had left, all of her favourites. 

She took a seran-wrap covered plate of pasta and threw the plastic into the trash, placing the pasta in the microwave and viciously stabbed her finger into the numbered buttons. Elide walked to her living room as the food was being heated, a note on the coffee table catching her eye. 

It had Rowan’s scratchy scrawl and she flipped it open, scanning the words. 

Ellie, 

I didn’t want to tell you, but L’s doing an interview tonight @ 7 with NTNS . It’s the first since the breakup, I’ll be watching so if you don’t end up doing so, I can tell you what happened. There’s food in the fridge and water in the jug. 

-R

A niggling voice told her not to watch it, to take her pasta and get back to bed, but enough was enough. 

She wouldn’t let him have this hold over her anymore. She’d told him he ruined her and now, now it was time to heal. 

Crumpling the note in her hand and letting it fall to the ground, she sat herself on the couch and picked up the remote, the channel already set to the show hosting the interview. 

Her breath hitched as the intro music played and Lorcan walked out across the stage, a smile, something completely unnatural and forced, splayed over his lips. Despite the lie he wore, he looked good, but then again, he’d looked good at Aelin’s and nearly every time she saw him before that. 

The audience cheered and clapped for him and it nearly made her see red. He did not deserve their applause, did not deserve their praise. 

She forced herself to breathe, This anger will only make it hurt more, breathe. 

Elide closed her eyes, imagining that she inhaled cold, blue air and exhaled hot, red air that took away her troubles. When she opened her eyes again and they focused on the TV, Lorcan was sitting in the chair, leaning back, his legs spread open. “Yeah, thanks, it’s good to be back,” he said. 

The host nodded and then his face grew grave, “Now, Lorcan, all of your fans, we’ve been wondering, how’s this past year been for you, after your break?” 

Elide saw the way his eyes shuttered, saw him shift like he was about to lie, but then, “Um, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, it’s been tough, really tough. I struggled a lot and I think it’s, ah, it’s starting to look up so…” 

“Well, that’s great, we’re all super happy for you, it’s been a rough-go lately, what with your ex and the cheating scandal-” 

“You know, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to come here tonight,” Lorcan interjected, running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. Elide resented that she still knew his tics and habits. 

The host nodded, his face portraying slight surprise, “Of course, the floor’s all yours, Lorcan.” 

“So as you all know, my fiancée and I broke up about a year ago,” three-hundred and twenty seven days to be exact, “and there were a lot of rumours going around and they’re partly my fault because I didn’t deny any of the claims which led to people taking them as the truth.” He took a large breath, “They aren’t true. I was the one in the wrong, I was the unfaithful one, on multiple occasions, not the other way around. I hurt her, more than I’ve ever hurt another being, and she had had enough.” 

The audience and host gasped as Lorcan nodded, confirming the words he said. 

Elide was frozen on the spot, not able to move as he admitted everything, on live television, with thousands of viewers. The microwave beeped, but still, she could not move. 

Lorcan went on, “That moment of her leaving, I think that was really rock bottom for me. I’m ashamed that it took her reaching her breaking point for me to realize this mess that was my life. So,” he said, bobbing his head in a sort-of nodding manner but not quite, “I got sober and started to try and fix things.” 

“Oh, you guys are back together, that’s wonderful-”

Lorcan let out a harsh laugh, “Oh, gods, no. No, she’s not really the type of woman that gets her heart broken and comes crawling back,” he paused for a moment, “and I wouldn’t want her any other way.” 

The host tilted his head to the side, “Some might say it’s better to forgive and forget.” 

“Hm.” It was clear Lorcan did not agree and Elide had to stop herself from laughing. “It’s, it’s not as simple as that. It’s not a fairytale romance, it’s gritty and painful and she’s still hurting because of it. It wasn’t exactly easy for her either, this past year.” 

“Well, you know,” the host started, spreading his hands and Elide just knew she wouldn’t like what he was saying, “there is a risk in all relationships you enter, it’s not like you meant to hurt her. And she left you.” 

Lorcan frowned for a second, his hands curling into loose fists and she sat up, her eyes widening and she silently begged Hellas to control him, to not let his spitfire temper catch a spark. “I don’t really think that my intentions mattered because I did cause her pain, regardless of what I wanted to do. It’s not hard to leave when you’ve been driven out by your partner. The blame lies fully with me.” 

“Do you think there’s any hope for you two?” 

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side, “I-I don’t really know. I’ll always love her, but obviously, it’s not up to me. If it was, I would undo everything I did and we’d have never broken up.” 

“I think I can say for everyone here at NTSN and, I’m sure, our lovely viewers at home, we wish you the best of luck, Lorcan.” Elide hated the host’s voice, slick and oily. “Now, I know you had something you wanted to share with us, something about new music?” 

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, ah, it was originally just a passion project I wrote in rehab and when I got out I played the song for my friend and she basically told me she would skin me alive if I didn’t write her an entire EP so here we are.” There was a grin tugging at his rosy lips, a twinkle of something playful in his eyes and Elide just knew the friend had been Aelin. 

That little spark in his dark eyes had her remembering, remembering everything good about them. How on rainy mornings when neither of them wanted to get up, he would hold her tightly against him or how they would stay in the shower until the water ran cold, too busy to notice when they were caught up in each other. Late at night, she would find him in the kitchen, shirtless as he made waffles or maybe French toast if he was feeling jumpy. Lazy afternoons spent basking in the sun and then he would jump up, his fingers itching to create something beautiful. 

He called her his muse, his inspiration. The only thing keeping him going, he told her. Everything, everything… was all for her. 

Blinking back tears, she focused back on the screen that showed the love of her life because despite herself, despite every single thing that had happened, that would never go away. A part of her soul would always be his. 

The audience was clapping as he was handed a guitar and spent a couple moments tuning it before he picked out a gentle, lovely, melody and sang. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan quelled the shaking in his hands as he passed the guitar off, offering a fake grin and nod to the cheering audience. They had eaten up the song, chanting Encore when he let the last note ring out and the cameras cut for a commercial break. An attendant came to grab the guitar he had never touched a day before in his life. It didn’t sound right, hadn’t sounded right any time he’d played it. 

Aelin, Fenrys, even Rowan, who hadn’t forgiven him, Rowan, who had crossed his arms and glowered at him every time they saw each other, told him it was perfect and that she would love it. But Lorcan knew it wouldn’t reach perfection until he played it on that beat up guitar, his and her initials carved into the neck, until she told him it was. 

“In five, four, three, two…” the lights came back on and he plastered that uncomfortable smile back on his lips, nodding as the audience cheered and the host praised him. 

“I’m going to have to say that may be my new favourite song of yours, that snippet you played was beautiful, just beautiful. Now, um, when you reached out to us for the interview, you told us you had some rather important news to share?” 

His heartbeat quickened and his hands became clammy. Lorcan nodded, swallowing past his tight throat. “Yes, I, ah, I wanted to share with you that this album will be my last. It’s been a journey and it’s time for me and my music to say goodbye.” 

The audience and host gasped theatrically, “Surely you’re not talking about retirement?”

“It’s been a long while since I’ve been home and I realized that everything I need was right where I was. I’ve been chasing something for a long time and I never knew what it was until I lost her. It’s time for me to say goodbye and let a new kid dazzle you all.” 

Forty-five minutes later, Lorcan was standing on his balcony, his forearms braced against the railing as he watched the busy streets of Orynth move. His hands shook and he wished for something, a drink or cigarette, anything to take the trembling away. He gritted his teeth and sipped from the glass of water next to him, hearing his phone blow up as it had been all night after his retirement announcement. 

His phone started ringing with a ringtone he didn’t remember so he picked it up, not recognizing the number calling him. He accepted the call and held it to his ear, “Hello?” 

“Hey. It’s... me.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

im not even sorry 🤷‍♂️ thank u @westofmoon​ 4 helping me bounce ideas n stuff 💛💛💛 and @shyvioletcat​ for being my lovely lil beta again!! 

@myfeyrelady​ @kandasboi​ @schmlip-scribble​  @the-regal-warrior​ @westjades​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeit @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @ella-enchanted27​ @noodlecatposts​ @cridhe-teine​ 

[nicolasnelson]

Sebastian’s Backstory (Analysis)

From 2x09 I think we can piece together some of Sebastian’s backstory. So here is my very long analysis/recap on what we know about Sebastian’s backstory and what parts I think are the truth and what parts are lies.

CHILDHOOD (1570s-1580s)

At 8 years old, Sebastian’s parents sold him to merchant ship. This suggests he grew up in a poor family and probably didn’t have much of a childhood to begin with.

Sebastian continuously ran away from the ship, but the crew always found him. He was either really bad at running away, or the crew had a few supernatural members on board who could track him. Werewolves or vampires could do it by scent. Witches could do it by using an object he owned.

They punished him, likely with some form of torture, perhaps magical in nature. This happened repeatedly over the years, likely at every port they visited.

When Sebastian was 17, he was turned into a vampire. This was after 9 years of being enslaved to this merchant ship. It’s quite possible he found a way to convince someone to turn him into a vampire so he could fight back.

Sebastian likely slaughtered his entire crew and took over the ship. He became a pirate and killed so much that he gained the nickname “Sebastian the Merciless.” His ship flew the pirate flag, black with a white skull and crossbones.

He added other vampires to his crew and they went searching for things to steal or people to attack (Alaric calls them marauding vampire pirates). He would have needed some non-vampires to man the ship during the day, probably a witch or two on board.

ROANOKE (1587-1590)

His ship came to the Colonies (America) and he stopped at Roanoke. It is likely he met Cassandra there since she was involved with the townspeople and subject to their rules.

In Roanoke, Sebastian continued to be a monster. He still fed on humans while he fell in love with Cassandra. She obviously saw some good in him because she protected him from the town leadership, even going so far as to summon a monster worse than him so the town wouldn’t discover him.

Cassandra desiccated him to save him from the monster she summoned, and he watched from a spectral state as she was torn apart by the monster. She left the token that could destroy the monster around his neck in his coffin.

Somehow his coffin was moved from Roanoke to Mystic Falls. It’s unclear why it was in the basement of the Salvatore school or how long it has been there.

Sebastian claims to have been in that coffin for 483 years. Judging by his backstory, I think he is lying. He was likely a vampire for at least a few years before he was desiccated. I find it unlikely he became a vampire, formed a vampire pirate crew, and fell in love with a witch all in the span of one year, especially considering how much longer it took to sail on the ocean in that time period. But it is still possible that he was indeed desiccated at 17. We can only guess whether he was telling the truth or not. (I did the math, and if Sebastian really was desiccated in Roanoke, he would have only been desiccated for a maximum of 440 years.)

AWAKENING (September 2028)

MG and Kaleb splashed some blood onto Sebastian’s coffin while they were moving the blood fountain. It was enough to allow Sebastian to reach out to someone “fragile minded.” He chose Lizzie for unknown reasons.

Continuously, he warns her he is dangerous while flirting with her. He is definitely saying the right things to get close to her, and when they go on their date, he asks for what he needs. I think it’s important to note that he asks her if she has a supply of human blood and does not ask her to give him any of her blood. She probably would have if he’d asked, but he does not want to harm her or accidentally kill her if he drinks too much.

MG interrupts and tells Lizzie she’s seeing things, thereby breaking Lizzie’s connection to Sebastian, so Sebastian reaches out to MG.

MG won’t help him, so Sebastian takes advantage of Wade. It’s important to note that he doesn’t kill Wade. The Sebastian of the past would have killed him without a thought, but Sebastian of the present lets him go once he has enough blood to restore himself.

Sebastian lurks around the school and tries to attack Kym in the woods, but MG and Kaleb stop him.

When the Croatoan is on the loose, Sebastian offers MG sensitive information about his past to help them defeat it. He could have let the Croatoan wipe everyone out, or withheld the information until many more were slaughtered, but he gave MG the information as soon as he remembered it. He specifically mentioned that he didn’t want Lizzie to be killed by the monster.

Vardemus meets with Sebastian and decides he should be enrolled in the school to keep him from attacking people on the streets. Since this is Clarke, he may have had other plans for Sebastian, but we can’t know what that might have been.

THE SALVATORE SCHOOL (October-December 2028)

Lizzie makes Sebastian a daylight ring so that he can go pick up Landon with her. Sebastian says he wants to drink human blood, and Lizzie tries to ditch him on the side of the road.

Sebastian kills Landon. I fully believe that someone has told him that Landon is a phoenix and will come back to life if he’s killed. He was likely curious to see how that worked and probably did it mostly to annoy Lizzie. Landon wasn’t threatening Lizzie when it happened, and Sebastian isn’t just going to snap someone’s neck for no reason (at least not now).

Sebastian is charged with changing out the flat tire, even though he’s never done that before. He somehow manages to do it, but now that we know he worked on a ship, that kind of handy work wouldn’t be too bad for him.

Lizzie is not accepting his advances, so he reminds her he’s dangerous and grabs her neck. His gamble succeeds and she’s into the idea of danger. Sebastian and Lizzie have sex on the hood of her car.

Sebastian admits that the world has been cruel to him and that he wants to stay at the Salvatore school.

Sebastian and Lizzie have a lot of sex back at the Salvatore school, and they make out in the hallways. It’s safe to say the whole school, minus the teachers, know that she and Sebastian are kind of a thing.

Alaric tells Sebastian that he’ll have to pass some tests if he is to stay at the school. He has Landon administer the tests because he will come back to life if Sebastian kills him.

Sebastian makes an effort with the werewolves.

Sebastian recognizes that Alyssa set a trap for him by cutting herself on purpose. He has incredible self control. Literally every other vampire in the room has red eyes and fangs bared, but Sebastian is completely calm the whole time.

Sebastian helps calm down MG when MG’s ripper side takes over. He didn’t need to do this, but he obviously cares about MG enough to stop him from making a huge mistake. He knows about rippers and has likely seen some in his time.

Sebastian warns Landon that he should be worrying about MG and Alyssa instead of him.

Landon takes Sebastian to see the witches. Alyssa tries to get him to fail the tests again by using her magical orb to read his deepest feelings. It’s pretty clear that he’s hoping Alyssa will see how much he desires Lizzie and get embarrassed by his feelings. Instead she sees the truths he can’t even admit to himself yet. 1) The modern world is terrifying, 2) He’s afraid they won’t let him stay at the school, 3) He’s afraid they’ll find out about his past and throw him away “like trash off the side of a boat.” Alyssa’s word choice here makes me wonder if the feelings orb revealed anything about his piratey past. And then lastly, 4) He knows Lizzie is better than him and that he doesn’t deserve her.

Sebastian reacts badly, throwing Landon off of him, and then the witches use a spell on him. Lizzie stops them, and Sebastian looks genuinely terrified. He runs from them, embarrassed and wounded. I think what Alyssa said served as a big wakeup call to him. He has a past that he can’t escape, and he’s afraid that he will end up hurting Lizzie.

Sebastian works out his frustrations by practicing his sword work in the gym. Landon comes to talk to him. Sebastian opens up to him about his past on the merchant ship and how he was tortured.

Sebastian leaves campus and feeds on a girl jogging outside at night. Alaric has followed him and shoots him with a crossbow. I fully believe Sebastian knew Alaric was following him. He lured Alaric away from the campus to get him to stop him.

Alaric has discovered Sebastian is “Sebastian the Merciless,” a vampire pirate, but he’s still willing to give Sebastian a second chance. Sebastian could easily take this chance. He could act grateful and get the chance to stay at the school and sleep with Lizzie to his heart’s content. A true villain would accept that offer.

But Sebastian claims he’s controlling Lizzie and that he’s had sex with her all around the school. He says things that target Alaric’s anger. He’s goading him into attacking him. I fully believe Sebastian wanted to die to protect Lizzie. He felt that his past was too much to overcome and that she would be better off without him.

Alaric temporarily locks Sebastian up. Either Emma got a last minute flight or Alaric anticipated this happening and had her on standby. Emma helps to lock Sebastian in the prison world the twins made for Kai.

THE PRISON WORLD (February 17, 2018 - prison worlds run on a loop)

Sebastian encounters Alaric, Josie, and Lizzie in the prison world. He clearly knows that Alaric has sent multiple students to the prison world because he says “The miseducation of young minds.”

TL;DR - Sebastian has killed many people, but he is capable of love. He’s willing to sacrifice himself to protect Lizzie. Basically, there’s a lot more to Sebastian than we’re seeing.

[Updated 1/29/20]