#and the divorce arc made them realise who they are as a person and who are the other as a person

[malewifingonside]

Doodles that i made while reading catmik's The Woes of Transmigrating Into a Minor Villain its so good it scrambled my brain

[deus-sema]

Disclaimer: This is the rant of a shipper who had expected a bit more combined with the concerns of an audience member who was left dissatisfied on certain fronts. It will contain both conjecture and wishful thinking.

What I genuinely liked about this season was that the performances were all par excellence and many dialogues were well written and masterfully delivered. One aspect that the finale did complete justice to was Annatar and Celebrimbor’s doomed partnership with Sauron’s ultimate betrayal culminating with the infamous Celebrimbanner. The entire season was leading up to that one last scene between them, which was flawless.

That being said, they couldn’t stick the landing with other subplots and  I might have an idea why.

A Finger In Every Pie

There were too many conflicts that needed to be addressed – if not outright resolved – by the time we reached the finale. Gandalf vs Dark Wizard, Isildur’s subplot, Numenor, Balroggate at Khazad-dûm, and Eregion, which was supposed to be the subplot driving this season. Ideally, most of these should have been resolved in the previous episodes with the finale focusing on Eregion and Khazad-dûm. Call it a side effect of having no more than eight episodes but the rest of the subplots were rushed or resolved abruptly.

The First Season: To embrace it or reject it entirely?

Some believe that the second season is an improvement from the first one but that was possible only because the first season laid the groundwork for every character, their dynamics, and the subplots, some of which paid off in S2. The risks the writers had taken with S1 were too major and there was no turning back the moment those decisions were made. Let’s make one thing clear. The opinions of that bigoted grifter gang who hate the show maliciously do not, and will never, count even the slightest bit. As far as the rest of the fans who simply chose to turn away from the show because of the liberties it took are concerned, then they cannot be appeased or wooed back. Once people make up their minds, it’s difficult to change it. What the showrunners should have done was embrace it fully as a fanfiction based on the source material and, gradually, let it evolve into its own thing The fans who liked it for what it was would stay for sure; with time, new ones will join in. Attempting to “fix” the perceived errors of the first season by divorcing the rest of the show from it isn’t going to work. Galadriel’s screentime was reduced, Bronwyn, one of the most important OCs of s1, was killed offscreen and wasn’t even afforded the dignity of a recast – if Nazanin’s desire to quit was the sole reason for this creative decision – like Adar was. Speaking of Adar, the way his arc was wrapped up was perhaps more anticlimactic than the Saurondriel showdown. Having him be betrayed and killed by the very children whom he cherished, in the same manner in which Sauron was assassinated, would have been poetic provided we had a season worth of development leading upto it. Having his protectiveness for his children turn into paranoia at the possibility of Sauron’s return, the Uruk’s discontent and disillusionment with him and Sauron preying on both to obtain his revenge on Adar would have been diabolical on his part and tragic for the Uruk because by the time they would’ve realised their folly, it would have been too late. But that didn’t happen and, just like that, another important link to the first season was severed and a subplot with immense potential was wasted. It also serves as a setback to one of the most ambitious objective the show flirted with: the humanization and a nuanced portrayal of the Orcs. It would have been one thing to have Glug be the only one to betray Adar at the last minute but all it took was two seconds for Sauron – the person whom they know doesn’t give a fuck about the Uruk and won’t think twice before torturing or killing them - to turn the lot of them against their Lord Father who had protected them until now. Sure, that makes Sauron appear super competent and Adar sympathetic but the Uruk got the shorter end of the stick. They came off looking like a bunch of gullible, bloodthirsty fools who have no integrity or loyalty and who live for carnage. The only reason why some of them started doubting Adar was because they believed he was leading them on a suicide mission chasing Sauron’s ghost. So, logically, finding out that Adar’s fears were right and Sauron – their tormentor and former oppressor – is back should have reinforced their loyalty to Adar. Instead, they all went back to square one. Adar – their representative - died. Glug - the most prominent one among them - died as well. What reason does anyone from the general audience have to care for them anymore? Rather, some would think they got what’s coming for them. Serves them right to betray poor Adar for Sauron who didn’t even have to lift a finger to manipulate them.

Much like everything else, Haladriel/Saurondriel is a child of s1 and it stands to reason that they backpedaled on it, like everything else. But I am also of the opinion that they aren’t willing to abandon it entirely yet. There is the marketing, for instance. Then, Sauron and Galadriel’s confrontation in s2 was predictable, rushed and somewhat lazily written. There are multiple ways in which it could have been improved. But he is still obsessed with her and she is still affected by him, despite hating him. From here, the writers can either grow a pair and further explore what they themselves established, that they want to emphasize on, through mind palace interactions or forced proximity – because time and distance matters not in tv world – or in any other way in the upcoming seasons or they can keep trying to appease the haters. The ball is in their court. Creatives chickening out is nothing new for shippers.

The Random Shock Value Effect

A certain show called GoT changed the landscape of television forever. No other pop culture phenomenon, save for the MCU’s Infinity Saga, came close to the craze it commanded in the last decade. Its influence on the tv shows that followed it cannot be overlooked. One aspect of it that was and still is overdone is including scenes that serve no purpose within the narrative for no other reason but momentary shock value or to ‘subvert expectations’. The Elron/driel kiss? Doing a Ser Barristan Selmy with Adar? All that isn’t going to work in the long run. It certainly didn’t for GoT.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Do you think Tim has been acting OOC lately? Breaking up with Lucy, what he did in the army and lying to Grey and West so easily : I can't help but think it came out of nowhere. Old Tim would never have done that. What do you think?

Old Tim would never have done that. I disagree. Not only would have Old Tim done exactly that, we know he actually did - @makeitastrength and @roguetwelve made some very good points on that subject yesterday. The difference is that we didn't see it play out in details like in 6.06. But Old Tim lied to IA about Isabel's addiction. That was why Detective Murphy was so gung-ho against him in 1.16 : he knew about her addiction but didn't report her. He covered for her to protect her. Just like he didn't immediately warn the detectives about the kilo of drugs in Isabel's apartment after she confessed. He was even ready to steal that piece of evidence for her before he came to his senses and realised that it wouldn't help her in the long term. And it definitely wasn't the first time he lied to Grey. Remember that time he went rogue (with Lucy) in 2.14? Granted, there was no IA inquiry but he still officially lied on a report and to Grey's face (with the rest of the team). Or that time he made Lucy lie in a report after he instigated a fight with the bikers or by not mentioning Isabel?

Also, not to be that person, but the man has mentioned several times that he did some work with the CIA in the past… and, well, no offense, it doesn't get shadier than them - which is kind of hilarious when you think about it, considering how black & white Tim is. Let's not forget that Guatemala op too : it was never sanctioned to begin with, they used a black-op branch of the DIA and it's pretty safe to say that they covered it up after getting Angela back. The biggest difference is his motive. Tim claims that he did what he did back then for his career, which sounds far less noble than saving his BFF or fighting for his country. It would be interesting to see if that's true though or if it was the self-loathing rewriting history. But either way, he has done some shady things in the past and we knew about it.

As for Tim breaking up with Lucy… It is very much still in-character, unfortunately. This is the same man who decided to divorce Isabel because he thought that it would help her, not because he wanted to. He was terrified of being a walking reminder of her addiction and didn't want to hold her back. In that regard, his decision to break up for Lucy because she deserves far better (his words, not mine) is not that different. So, no, I don't think Tim was acting out-of-character. If anything, that's what makes this storyline so painful. Because it feels exactly like something Old Tim would have done. Because it feels like he just took a huge step backward, practically erasing his growth. And for me, that what makes it so real and interesting. Personal growth is rarely linear. Sometimes you take a step forward and sometimes you take a step backward. Sometimes you need to touch rock bottom before you can get better. Life is messy that way. We thought Tim was doing better - and in many ways, he was. But he never really dealt with his trauma. He simply tried to move forward and forget. Only now, his past has caught up with him and he's stuck in this self-destructive mode.

I fully understand disliking this arc. I also fully understand being frustrated by that 'regression'. But that doesn't mean he was written out of character. Because, unfortunately, that was the most Tim Bradford he ever did. Like the man said, he is "a man of principles and contradictions".

[buddieisgoingcanon2024]

There is no way Eddie’s current storyline isn’t going to lead into a sexuality arc…

Like, aside from Ryan admitting Eddie has repressed feelings, it all makes sense.

With Shannon, she was his best friend and they formed a connection of sorts. They went into a relationship by force, she got pregnant and married because of it. Eddie was never bothered or interested in her apart from the ‘connection’ and ‘bond’ they had built. He went to war to get away from her and he never had her back in anything. He loved the idea of being married to her but never said he loved her, Michael said the same thing about Athena. He loved being married to Athena and having his children but he is gay and therefore never loved her in that way, as Tim Minear recently said, Eddie has this romantisised and idealised version of what their future could have been together and what their past was eventhough their past was unhealthy and they were barely a married couple and their future weren’t going to happen because she wanted a divorce.

From the perspective of the show, not actresses. Ana and Marisol come across as the perfect partners, they are both nice, beautiful and they both seemed to be very good with Christopher, I mean they kinda have to be if they are looking after him loads. So…why does he not want to be with either of them and he’s purposely messing up his relationships with them? Because they aren’t Shannon. He doesn’t have the same connection with them that he had with her, it’s always spoken about how he wants a mother-figure for christopher but never that he wants a partner. So, when he gets this ready-made family, he has panic attacks because he actually isn’t ready for it and messes it up. Breaking up with Ana because it’s got too serious and then moving Marisol out the same day she moves in. He has a habit of not spending time with his girlfriends but using them often to look after Christopher. A mother figure for Chris but not a partner for him.

As I said, they aren’t Shannon which is why he feels this way. But even then his relationship with Shannon wasn’t that great either so why is he trying to find it again? It’s the only ‘connection’ he’s ever known, or so he thinks, it’s the only thing that he’s experienced and had nothing to compare it to because he hasn’t formed any other connections like that since Shannon. From his perspective that is. He’s never been ‘in love’ and he doesn’t know what that feels like the only thing he thinks is that he was in love with Shannon and that is what love must be, ar least it’s the closest thing he’s ever had to being in love with someone that he’s doing everything he can to find that again which is why he was so quick to cheat on Marisol with Shannon’s lookalike. Delusion and Desperation.

I feel he’ll slowly start to realise that her lookalike may look like her but won’t end up being the ‘same’ as her. Devin said that the lookalike is going to meet Buck at some point who mentions that she isn’t Shannon in terms of her body language and personality etc and I feel like Eddie will end up realising that it’s true and once he ends up out of his state of delusion he’ll truely feel alone. He can’t have Shannon or her look-alike, he won’t have Marisol anymore because…he cheated amd he’ll realise he doesn’t need that mother figure for Chris…then what. He’ll struggle and push everyone away because everything that’s happened is all he’s ever known. He literally started a family from a young age. Then his sexuality arc will start and he’ll end up realising why all this has happened….because he never loved any of them in a way he was suppose to. But why?……

Ryan said s8 will a refresh button for him and will have a few bombshells and that Eddie will have a new lifestyles that will go into uncharted waters.

I love your thoughts anon. I wish I could right down mine as good as yours.

[diazfox]

I have a lot of thoughts about Red, White & Royal Blue (both the book and the movie). If you manage to read through the whole thing, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings! Please feel free to interact. If you don't feel like reading through the brain dump of a random girl from nowhere, here's a summary: movie was great, but the book remains undefeated, plus a pathetic attempt at rallying for a petition to make this into a series.

I first read the book in january 2023 (I was very late to booktok I'm sorry) and have been obsessed since then. I have re-read it multiple times and have pages of annotations in my pdf copy. as a huge literature nerd, thematic expressions, plot and character development mean so much to me. While it's not a crime to interpret this book as an idealistic and purely romantic piece of fiction, I think there is plenty to value in the way family, politics and self-discovery is illustrated in the novel.

To me, it's really the intricacies that give so much to life to many scenes and characters. June standing up for Alex even when he never outright asked for it, staying in the white house for him instead of pursuing her own dreams. June feeling trapped and chained down being born into a life of politics, while Alex, entirely optimistic and determined, revels in it. Nora being introduced as a tech junkie who gives it to him straight while June is the more soft-spoken one, but Nora being the one to deliver the most important cold hard truths that wake Alex up multiple times throughout the book. How Alex is who is because he has these 2 girls who provide him with 2 different support systems - June who understands the struggles of the public eye, the divorce of his parents, being biracial, and Nora who understands the realm of queerness and shares his passion in politics. Rafael Luna's story arc and the triple-crossing. How Alex looked up to him so fervently, how Luna has his own dark past that made him who is today.

and Henry... (cue BIG DREAMY SIGH) The harrowing reality that someone so special not only to him but both Bea and his mom as well left all of them so bereaved that his mom completely shut off and Bea turned to a life of drugs. His father who symbolised everything that the crown frowned upon, and stole his mother's royal-blooded heart anyways. How Henry was probably brought up to be fearless and strong just like his parents but his entire family was snatched from him at such a young age that it left him stranded and lost, leaving him no choice but to follow the path of royal traditions, being pushed and shoved around however they deemed fit. and when he did get older and privy to his sexuality, it was too late to turn back and stand his ground to say "No, I don't want this life." The pills, the insomnia, the piece of himself that's been lost forever, that nothing and nobody will ever be able to replace. Percy being his only escape from the royal lifestyle, how he was willing to share a part of his life's works for Henry to experience outside his mundane royal duties, something Henry chooses to do instead of being forced to. Bea stepping up after realising how she needs to do better not only for herself but for her brother as well, that all they have is each other and she needs to fight for them. Bea being the protective sister who explains to Alex how Henry misses his dad, and that he needs to be comfortable with the fact that there will always be a part of Henry that Alex might never be able to reach. Henry's mom stepping up in the end, not willing to lose her son the way she lost her husband, how Henry is the closest living reminder to the love of her life, born with his heart on his sleeve.

Their emails. Henry and his beautiful monologues depicting grief and love. How he has never bared his heart out like that to anyone, yet when he finally found the right person, everything was leaked to the entire world. The multiple references to historical figureheads and literature that actually give "History, huh? Bet we could make some" all it's meaning.

The tension in the confrontation with the queen. The nervous wreck that election night put me in. The political journey of this book further helped to solidify the idealistic, fairytale-like nature of the novel and its ending. It left me with such an overwhelming sense of comfort, like coming back to my childhood home (quite literally in Alex's case).

Ellen and Zahra's relationship, Oscar and Luna's relationship, Oscar saying Ellen will always be the love of his life... the list is literally endless. I could go on forever. I laughed, I cried, I screamed into my pillow, I stared out my window wistfully, wondering how people can feel so much so deeply.

All these details that bring so much colour and dimension to the plot convinced me that it would be a crime not to make a live action of this book. But that is not to say that the movie was bad. I had already prepared myself beforehand to handle the disappointment of not getting all 500 pages verbatim, and I understand the directional choices made to focus solely on Alex and Henry's relationship, not having the luxury of time. Viewing the movie as something separate from the book, it was beautifully executed and I have already watched it 3 times now.

But... just to put it out there...

Imagine a live action with everything I mentioned above, though. Wouldn't it be lovely to go on all these journeys with all these people together with Alex and Henry? And it's not something completely impossible is it? I think even an animated series would be sublime but is it really too much to ask for the novel to be made into a proper series? I feel like Casey has given us such a wholesome and never-seen-before story that deserves every nook and cranny to be explored and made into film. We have had so many versions of Little Women and Pride & Prejudice, so I'm holding out hope that a rwrb series is not an impossible feat. Taylor and Nick will always be Alex and Henry in my head, but that's something I'm personally willing to trade for a longer series made with even more people and further explorations that the movie couldn't afford to make.

My sister asked me last month why I kept losing my marbles everytime a new photo or clip dropped. Said that "it's just a random book, get over it". I think this book means a lot to many different people from different walks of life. Minority race, being biracial, coming to terms with bisexuality, dealing with divorce, dealing with the public eye, being born into a family that you don't entirely identify with, losing a loved one, dealing with mental illnesses, dealing with grief, standing up to authority, being outed, letting yourself love and be loved. This book encapsulates such a vast array of experiences and emotions that I'm confident that I'm not the only one who feels this strongly about "just a random book".

Casey really did make history, didn't they?

[mozillavulpix]

a bunch of hugtto plotlines that had absolutely no reason to go that hard

aka “the parts that emotionally devastated me”

apparently it’s 5 years old now

Homare having like honest-to-god PTSD after an ice-skating injury, and not being able to become a Precure in the first episode because she was terrified to jump to reach the thing she needed to transform

just, fucking, absolutely everything about Henri. An androgynous ice-skater who likes wearing women’s clothes, has a whole arc about being tempted by the villains because he’s terrified of the onset of male puberty, snapping out of the villain’s control, and then getting to be a Precure himself

also Emiru’s brother is the conservative guy who rejects Henri’s behaviour but then they say actually he was just like that because he’s super-closeted gay and they end up having a relationship

One day Hana is feeling inadequate compared to her friends and those feelings prevent her from transforming. which then makes her self-loathing even worse

That night she starts bawling her eyes out to her mom, realising for the first time that it’s totally possible to dislike yourself and how you turned out as a person

so the mascot characters don’t come from a magical world, they come from the future. the future is also a dystopia and they came back in time to prevent that from happening to the present too

there’s one episode where two girls arguing with each other fuels the bad guy to turn them into a monster of the week, but then they manage to make up from within that state which stops the monster from fighting

they have a robot girl who slowly starts to develop emotions and help the precure and so the villains just shoot her. she lives, they can just reboot her, but

they have a whole song Emiru makes about how much she loves her new friend that she sings to her with her guitar and it’s super wholesome

there’s an episode where they go to a night pool, while Hana is shaken up by the revelations of who the new bad guys are and tries to hide her anxiety from her friends. They never catch on.

homare’s parents are divorced. It’s briefly mentioned a few times and no one treats her differently because of it.

the silly hamster mascot who can turn into a bishonen was also cruelly experimented on by the bad guys and can turn into a monster

they have an episode about a woman going into labor

they also have an episode about a woman having a caesarian section and telling people how that’s totally normal and nothing to be ashamed of

in that episode, a toddler runs away from her parents crying about the new baby, worried that it means her mother will stop loving her

there’s an episode where they meet Hana’s grandmother. she injures her back and has to go to the hospital. she’s okay, but

They have a romance plot where Homare learns and accepts that her love is unrequited. Including The Little Mermaid metaphors

We find out the robot girl was built partially because the doctor that made her had a dead daughter

the mascot’s backstory is that his fucking home burns down, and that’s what makes him realise he needs to join the evil team because he has nowhere else to go

there was a precure team in the future. they got defeated, and the last member got turned into the magical baby from travelling to the past

they spend like the last few episodes before the final battle just accepting that their friends from the future are going to leave forever once the final battle is over. They have a whole group cry about it so they (hopefully) won’t cry when it actually happens. (They still do)

Saya’s mother has an emotional breakdown realising her daughter doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps. Saya goes into her mind and embraces her, thanking her for giving her life

actually the apocalypse in the future was caused by people’s collective fear of moving forward causing time itself to stop. There’s no evidence that it won’t happen again and that won’t be their future

also in the future timeline hana dies and the bad guy is actually her husband from the future who doesn’t want to see that happen again. He never tells her this, but seeing her younger self so ready to face the future, even if it leads to her suffering, makes him realise he shouldn’t try to stop her

they have a future epilogue that shows that the events of the future aren’t going to repeat themselves. Probably. I think they must have created a new timeline or something. time travel is complicated

Emiru and Ruru do meet again in the future. But only because Emiru helps the scientist who created her in the future make her in this time. They finally meet again after like 20 years but this time Emiru is the older one and Ruru is the little one.

like any one of these makes you go “I’m surprised they got away with this”, but there’s so many.

[kisarastrife]

I read the newest chapter of paper roses and I loved it! Well done! What I adored most was that Isonso/Roland was included in the museum part cause he's Kaiba's confidant so it made perfect sense.

Yasssss!!!!

Thanks soooooo much for this message my dear!

That was what I was aiming for. See, I reckon Roland is Seto's father's figure. He's been the one truly steadfast and immovable person in his life for so long. A moral compass, if you will.

In my own headcanon, I believe that Roland would try to tell Seto when he thinks his employer is being unreasonable or doing something dangerous. Roland cares about this kid he saw Gozaburo abuse for so long. In Paper Roses I've alluded to it numerous times, but I don't know if my own entire backstory will ever be explained plainly in-fic, so here it is for anyone who's interested.

Seto underwent physical abuse from his stepfather and it was an amalgamation of mansion's staff who tried mitigate it. Kiku and Izumi (the one with the green jade dragon hair-slide), the two longest-serving of the maids, would quickly get little-Mokuba away from Gozaburo when he was in a foul mood or when he was taking it out on Mokuba. And they would distract the child and help keep him safe. Kiku would distract little-Mokuba and Izumi would try her best to calm Gozaburo; she had been close friends with his wife before their divorce.

It was Roland who tried to help Seto. He and Rin saw the abuse in plain view. Roland taught Seto how to defend himself and he once intervened between Gozaburo and young-Seto, which resulted in Gozaburo removing him from the mansion and posting him permanently to the KaibaCorp building. During one fit of rage, Gozaburo struck Seto, which resulted in him falling down the stairs and broke his collarbone. This is the scare that Kisara asks him about. Rin wants to call an ambulance, but Gozaburo refuses, which results in a stand-off of sorts. The fiery woman threatens to call the police if the child isn't brought for medical attention. Gozaburo gives in all of it quietened of course, but Rin is fired. Seto uses the skills Roland taught him to gain the upper hand in an altercation and sends Gozaburo sprawling on the ground; Roland is the one who ignited a love of Judo in Seto. (In the Kaiba Grand Prix arc, the screen of Zigfried's laptop shows that Seto was trialed by soccer scouts and was a world Judo champion).

When Gozaburo decides to jump out the window (the option I choose to believe for Paper Roses), Roland is the first to get to Seto and protects the teenager. He's with him throughout Death-T and never once holds a grudge against him. If you look at the ages of his children in Paper Roses, he and his wife have children only when Gozaburo has died. He could only devote himself to his own family when he knew Seto was safe.

Roland was there throughout all of the arcs, never balking even once. Fuguta too, but just not as visible as Roland.

So it made sense for Roland to be there for this oh so important moment for Seto. It's a huge moment for Kisara too, but it's more important that she's there on her own two feet and deciding to venture into the truth. Whereas Seto is the opposite; he's learning how to not be there alone, to allow someone else into the truth he's known and hidden for too long.

This moment is equally important for Roland who has stood by Seto for so long; the chance for him to realise his charge/employer has learned to allow people beside Mokuba in, but to also understand the happening beyond his control and understanding in terms of Egypt. That Kisara and Seto were always supposed to find each other. That this small kernel of a family need him to protect them as best he can.

Anyways ... /end rant lecture.

[hydraulicfluidinmyteapot]

ok turns out the person more insane than me is me.

however Im only talking about the final scene of the episode, and for this to make sense you need to enter understanding that Cate is set up as a Wilson proxy.

In S4E011 Frozen we are introduced to Cate, a psychiatrist who is doing research in Antarctica and is our patient for this episode. She kept her socks on in a physical, accidentally concealing a broken toe which was leaking marrow into her bloodstream, slowly killing her. She did this because her feet were so cold she couldn't feel them, further concealing her broken toe.

In their restaurant conversation at the end of the episode, Wilson tells House that he only saved the patient because "You knew your patient hated having cold feet….because you liked her".

House's (albeit sarcastic) response is interesting; "I cared therefore I let her keep her socks on. That's what love is.". To me, this is a direct statement about Wilson. In this case Wilson's cold feet are more metaphorical, but still translate directly as his inability to commit, and how House lies at the centre of it.

House is allowing Wilson the comfort of ignorance by letting him "keep his socks on", as examining the issue would cause discomfort, despite the potential long term benefits. House's key philosophy as a character is that everybody lies, except for him, but here he is stating that he would lie by omission for Wilson's comfort and that he currently is doing so, compromising his principals.

With Cate, he spends the episode running various strange tests and examining everything except for her feet, the actual root of the problem. We can compare this to Wilson, and all the strange examinations and tests that House puts him through during their friendship. House /will/ touch on issues like Wilson's serial divorcing, but he never, ever addresses the underlying cause; himself. Wilson is so dedicated to House that it directly affects his marriages, his social life, costs him his job, and leads him to lie to the police*. However, we never see House examine why this is, or force Wilson to acknowledge this dedication, despite being what we'd expect from his established obsession with getting to the bottom of things.

House continues that if he had made her take off her socks "like (he) should have" he would have seen the toe and solved the case "days ago". Despite his insistence that he does not view Cate as anything more than a patient, this serves as an admission that he cared about her, it impacted his ability to think objectively, and lead to him missing something important that he would have noticed had he pushed past her discomfort.

Wilson acknowledges this with a very sarcastic "But, you don't care about her. "

THIS is where the it gets interesting. Immediately after the implicit statement that House caring impacts his ability to not only be objective but also solve problems, we are introduced to Amber as Wilson's date. Wilson has started not only dating ANOTHER woman, but this women is a direct proxy for house*.

Houses is visibly shocked when he sees her. Amber's first line when she enters is a monotone "Of course not. House doesn't care about anyone". delivered with a knowing look and direct eye contact with house, and then she SMIRKS AT HIM and KISSES WILSON.

I'm sorry.... WHAT? Maybe I should cancel this whole post and just let the last paragraph stand alone? She SMIRKS AT HIM and KISSES WILSON. House has lost.

*During the Tritter arc, Wilson's car is towed, his bank accounts are frozen, his ability to prescribe medicine is taken away. However, what leads him to betray house is the realisation that House's drug problem is genuinely effecting him, and that having him charged could force him into rehab.

*A conclusion that House explicitly reaches, albeit days later

I hear so much about Amber being presented as a proxy for house, but where is the discussion about the lady from the south pole (north pole?) episode as a stand in for Wilson? All the comparisons drawn between her and Wilson? House literally addresses her as Wilson when she is psychoanalysing him?

Where Wilson describes houses "courtship" methods for how he can tell house likes her and they apply directly to him??

How he STOPS flirting with the lady when the other dude shows feelings for her? In the same episode as when house finds out Wilson is dating Amber??

Theres so much more to this I need someone more insane than me to draw conclusions about it

[memes-saved-me]

Many people don't understand that Billy is supposed to represent what happens to abused kids who end up never finding help or having a support system, which is to repeat the behaviors. This can be because they don't know how to cope with the trauma and anger; it gives them a sense of control, they perceive their new victim as the source of their pain, or all of the above! Hell, there are even more reasons behind the behaviors of abused kids who repeat the abusive behaviors. Like yeah, Billy was a dick, but also, he had no support system, and no one ever bothered to help him, and the one person who could abandoned him when he was a vulnerable child. El was the first person to reach out to him, to care, and once that happened he literally gave it his all to protect her and the rest from the Mind Flayer. He used his last words to apologize. He could have had such a beautiful redemption arc, but unfortunately he also represents what often happens to abused kids(in general), which is that they die tragically young, before they could really start their life.

^ this right here yes!

I was heading that way in my teen years. I've spoke about this countless times but I was angry and set off by the slightest thing yet put on a smile at school and acted as if I wasn't being abused at home. I remember being so angry and punching things, hurting myself by doing so and just not being happy deep down. Even when I got away from my abuse the moment I had to interact or see my dad it all came back.

It wasn't until I found Billy and this fandom that I realised I had actually been abused and managed to finally tell my mum and family what had happened to me and she cut my father off instantly. They were already divorced but she made sure I never have to see him again.

I was abused from about 13 - 17 and didn't accept it until I was 20. I pushed so much shit down I didn't remember it until I spoke about it and more kept flooding back to me. Repressed memories my brain let me forget and I still have trouble remembering some thing even now. They'll just hit me out of nowhere and then fade again.

Trauma and abuse isn't simple. It fucked up and can fuck you up just the same. People don't like Billy because he's not digestible. He's human and people can't handle an abuse victim lashing out when a lot of us did/do. I've never seen myself in a character until Billy and I'll never let go of that.

Billy didn't have a mother to cut off his father and protect him. He didn't have someone to talk to and help understand his trauma. He had no one. Not a soul and like you said when he finally had someone he gave his life to protect her.

This is why I cling to Billy because he deserved to get away and grow like I did and so many others. To put it behind him and get older but no. He didn't get the chance

[mono-blogs-art]

Hi this got very long so feel free to ignore but wanted to share my revue starlight movie experience! (so sry for any spelling errors I wrote this in a rush) I split it between theater experience, personal reaction, and translations changes that I noticed

Theater Experience:

- very very very loud throughout, before Masai's scream preemptively covered my ears and was glad i did - think some of the songs suffered from it being too loud but still loved them all - teared up but thankfully managed to not actually cry - movie theater only about 20-25% full :( - pretty quiet with the exception of a pair one of whom had clearly not watched the movie before and was very confused - inconsistent song lyric subs, didn't always cover the song if it was too background - I love this movie so much I'm so grateful i got to experience it on the big screen and surround sound 11/10 will watch again Personal/Friend Reactions: - forgot men existed in revue starlight and got the shock of my life - how many straddles and declarements to stay together or wait forever for each other can you have before the audience realises they're gay - so many divorce arcs - friend who had not seen movie before audibly choked at maya's "I'm always adorable" line - didn't love their translations of maya and claudine's lines with hero and saint but the line "give me you" absofuckinglutely redeemed it - when maya thought she won proving that an empty and lonely existance is the best path foward she looked so sad :((( good thing claudine is always ready to kick her ass and ruin maya's god complex - before their revue:    claudine: you're so weak    maya (pouting which was freaking adorable!!!): but the baby chicks    claudine: fair but you're still weak - i love that nana flat out states she has an obsession with junna love nana so much - love that the 5 who were in the audience for the episode 10 revue of claudine crying were also there for part 2: revue of maya crying - why are they crying for each other? what are they, gay? - so funny that while everyone is already married/getting there in the anime and having their divorce arcs in the movie maya and claudine are so dense that it takes them until the movie to get together and then they have to have a long distance relationship when they had 3 years in the same school - saw that bird on claudine's window very cute (was it a gift from maya or rep of maya's soul from the revue?) - all the divorce arcs were sad but i think their relationships are better for it!! sometimes things need to break and time apart to grow stronger - that metal bird was so ugly maya pls no you deserve better - the fact that hikari has dropped out of prestitious acting schools like 3 times and they keep accepting her back is just - only realized after that the reason hikari freaked out so much is while the other 7 encountered their dead bodies and blood with tendo maya keeping them calm Hikari was in London, flat out missing everything - its been mentioned before by many people but the fact the claudine both passively and actively causes divorces is never not funny to me    anime: accidently helps in futaba and karuko divorce    movie: actively caused the futaba and karuko divorce (if its futuba you can do it), possibly helps in the junna and nana divorce (if it's junna you can do it)    game: helps start the hikari and karen divorce (movie) in her revue with hikari, also is forced to mediate between fumi and shiori (deserved karma sorry claudine) - kinda sad that they changed the selfish line  for hikari in the final lines as one of the many things i love about revue starlight is how they are selfish and have it be a good thing - the groupings in the credits scene have so so so much potential i love them - mahiru got to kick hikari's ass and love hikari but mahiru deserved to kick her ass - mahiru: I'm going to kick your ass so you can go kick our girlfriend's ass Translation changes: (i think the translations made some of the lines lose their bite/impact, but i enjoyed some like the switch to co-stars for mahiru and hikari)

-revue of X -> X revue - malice -> resentment (karuko vs futaba) - competition -> co-stars (mahiru vs hikari) - always waiting -> can't tie me down (resentment revue) - dazzling -> bright (hunting revue) - your star is just a piece of trash -> star is stardust (hunting revue) - for a hero there are trials, for saints there are temptations, for me there is you -> give a hero trials, give a saint temptation, give me you (soul revue) - in you I lose myself -> i am captivated by you (final lines) - i am the most selfish -> most willful self (final lines)

If you made it this far sry for long post and thank you!

[toastytoaster22]

Sorry if this is a question youve had before!! But what made you like Dad!Reigen and his absolute son teru so much? As in what exactly is it about them that you enjoy writing and when did you realise that their dynamic had potential if that makes sense

I don't think anyone had asked this particular question, so don't worry!!

It's funny. When I first started getting into the mp100 fandom and reading some fic, I wasn't interested in anyone but Mob. Reigen and Teru were fun, but I didn't understand them super well. Actually, I didn't understand any of the characters very well. I didn't relate to anybody too closely, and was especially confused about Ritsu. It took a while for me to really sit down and break everyone's actions and choices into little digestible bits so that I could understand why people were doing what they were doing. (This is great! Storytelling that actually made me think instead of spelling things out! Wow!)

I didn't understand Teru much either and had little interest in writing him until I read a fic that punched me in the chest and got the ball rolling. If anyone recognizes the line, feel free to let me know bc this author is basically responsible for my massive Teru fic dumps. There was a line about Teru's parents giving him "so little attention that he forced it out of others" and that, combined with The Big Empty's line about Teru waving at people in his front yard just to have others acknowledge his existence... That concept sort of destroyed me.

I wasn't a lonely kid? Not traditionally, at least. I had tons of friends and really good, healthy relationships with my parents and cousins and I was a social butterfly. But my parents were divorced and I did spend a significant amount of time home alone and I Hated it. Detested the silence. Would call people just to talk. Even in elementary school, I'd crawl up onto the kitchen table and call my mom just to hear her voice bc joint custody meant I only saw her three days a week and I was little and wanted more than that.

So the idea of a kid feeling like that all the time? Oh, I was here for that. I wrote Socha and dug deeeeeep into Teru and finally felt like I got him. And the more I dug, the more I saw something interesting.

Teru and Reigen are very very similar. And while I saw tons of fics where Reigen was Mob's father figure, (which never made sense to me bc Mob HAS a decent dad and doesn't crave or seek parental guidance so much as social guidance) I started to think of Teru.

Teru and Reigen are both lonely. They live on their own in tiny apartments, estranged physically and emotionally from their parents. They are both extremely extraverted, and crave attention (this is not a bad thing, it just is), acknowledgement, and validation of their skills and growth. Everyone does to some degree, but their character arcs definitely highlight those aspects of their personalities. They both have kind of a weird sense of humor. I think being around Mob teaches them both to be a little kinder to themselves.

There was a potential in that that really struck me. Reigen is NOT an ideal dad. He's a little selfish and doesn't always take things as seriously as he should and he makes excuses for thing he should own up to. He probably can't cook for shit and I wouldn't trust him to remember to take a kid to the doctor for annual shots and whatnot. BUT. BUT. BUT? Teru doesn't really have an alternative. ANYTHING is better than what he has, which is no one. It'd be better to have someone who's not perfect than a void. Parents aren't perfect anyway. Having someone who loves and supports you is most important.

Issho had to be set before Teru's parents left BECAUSE I could never get him adopted by Reigen otherwise. Not legally. Teru needed to be little and not yet embittered by being abandoned to the degree that he likely is in canon. I needed to thrust Reigen deep deep into responsibility to make the two of them stick.

Bc otherwise... Reigen is not Quite responsible enough to take custody of a kid, and Teru is too independent and stubborn. I wrote Break as both an exploration of Teru's dormant trauma, and as an exploration of what it would look like if Canon Reigen and Canon Teru were forced into each other's lives. Their dynamic is completely different in Break. A little awkward. Conversations are tough. Stilted. They don't really hug much and they're weird roommates who care a lot but like. Break Reigen isn't Teru's dad persay... he's playing the role but it's uncomfortable for him. But he'll do it bc this kid so desperately needs an adult and unfortunately he is the ONLY one available.

whew okay that was maybe more than you asked for BUT! hey. I like lonely people being less lonely together. I have lots of Teru and Reigen feels.

Thank you for the ask!!

[algernoninwonderland]

Can I ask you to make a guide about writing Akumatized Marinette fics in such a way that still keep all characters in-character?

I’ll do you one better!

Here’s My Five-Step Program on How To Write Akumatised Characters!

Feel free to use it however you like!

1.  Have a clear idea of who your character is, what their drives and dislikes are, before you get around to akumatising them

For instance, Nino wants to have fun and to make his friends happy but hates being told what to do by authority figures. Mlle Mendeleiev wants to be regarded as a big deal in the scientific world and hates being ridiculed.

Though some of these drives and dislikes can be really ridiculous when it comes to some of these akumatised characters and can have little to no emotional weight because some episodes are comedy-oriented (M. Ramier likes feeding his pigeons, he doesn’t like being told that he can’t feed his pigeons, this is stupid but also funny) or just poorly written. Still, they all seem to follow that same basic formula.

2. Understand how we get to the akumatisation proper, or, what happens before the transformation

The characters about to be akumatised are being pushed to their limits. Why? It depends on the episode, but it’s usually a case of “the character can’t have it their way because of [reason] and that makes them angry”. What are they angry at? There’s no fixed rule here. Depends on the circumstances of the episode. They’re caught in a situation with an outcome that leaves them emotionally unstable and angry, is the point.

Watch Utena. Just watch it. It’s (maybe) the best anime ever. And Miraculous uses the basic mechanics of the Black Rose Saga without understanding what made it good in the first place. Without spoiling too much about that part of the anime, secondary characters with issues hinted at in the first arc come to the forefront of the show for one episode each, during which they are being pushed to their limits. They have a moment of Regressive Therapy with the arc’s antagonist who makes them expose their buried negative feelings and weaponises them to turn each of these characters into the “villain” of the week, if you will. In Utena, these characters, their desires, their fears, gives us a different perspective on the storyworld, the plot and the characters we’ve spent the most time with until then. It’s so good. Just watch Utena.

Anyway, Hawk Moth is a kind of devil figure there (all of this is very Faustian) using the moments of emotional vulnerability in these characters to trick them into striking a deal with him.  He offers them the power to act on these negative feelings, and they must do his bidding in return (he can exert some control over them if this deal is agreed upon but that’s really murky).

Note that these soon-to-be-akumatised characters are not in the right mindset to fully realise what it is they’re getting into, unless they are Truly Evil. Hawk Moth is the one in control there, he is calm and manipulative, he is the one to define the terms of the contract, if you will. This makes me reluctant to call the great majority of the akumatised characters villains (but that doesn’t stop the show from treating them as such). They are blinded by their anger, and not in a position to bargain.

3. Understand what being akumatised is and what it does

“Hello, [villain name], I’m Hawk Moth. Are you sick of piles of owls constantly blocking your driveway?! Well then you gotta get Owl Trowel!  Things are pretty unfair, aren’t they? I understand. I will give you the power to do [whatever], in exchange, you must give me the Miraculouses” Hawk Moth, in every episode.

Being akumatised is a twisted, dramatic expression of these negative emotions and frustrated desires, with an awful colour palette and character designs that range from “pretty good!” to “no.”

Now watch the original Sailor Moon anime. Some of the people working on it later moved on to make Utena. It’s mostly a very good show, and one Miraculous draws from a lot. It blends what was the norm in the magical girl genre until then (shows centred around femininity and growing up) with tokusatsu-type monster-of-the-week stuff. Notably, some of the villains of the week in the early seasons were humans whose desires and frustrations were used by the Dark Kingdom (the Big Bad) to turn them into monsters. The Sailor Guardians (our heroines) had to fight and heal them from that evil corruption.

Being akumatised is a physical transformation and a mental transformation as well, characters who wouldn’t hurt a fly as their regular civilian selves become unhinged and violent and drunk with power. This isn’t them anymore, not entirely. Does that mean an akumatised character’s actions are entirely divorced from what their regular selves think and feel? Not entirely. Alya really wants to know who Ladybug is, Ivan really wishes people would stop picking on him, Aurore really thinks she deserved that victory. Being akumatised means taking these feelings to the extreme and manifesting them physically while attaching them to an item the character has been shown to carry earlier on. Maybe that item is the cause of what upset the akumatised character in the first place, and turning that into a weapon… Sometimes. Maybe it’s something else. The show isn’t very consistent in that regard. You figure it out yourself.

Hawk Moth brings out the worse in these characters and then some, using his magic. He exerts some degree of control over his akumatised pawns though how much is unclear, and I think that’s a deliberate choice from the creative team. In this case, I think the ambiguity makes things more interesting than “bad man entirely controls people who are only puppets with no will of their own whatsoever”.

4. And Now How Would Other Characters React?

When akumatised characters have vengeance in their mind, they go after the person they think is responsible for whatever went wrong. Unlike our heroes and HM, they aren’t concerned with being secretive about who they are, since they are overconfident in their new powers.

The most common reaction to akumatised villains attacking Paris is: “running away and screaming and trying to get somewhere safer”.

How would individual characters react to an akuma attack? How involved were they with the person that got akumatised? Did they play a role in making that person upset? Did they suspect the person had these kinds of feelings before, or is it a complete surprise? What does it tell us about the relationship between the akumatised character and the non-akumatised character reacting to them? Find answers to these questions and you’ve got it all figured out. Refer to the show itself regarding characterisation, it may not be always consistent so pick what you like best, what would be the most interesting.

5. Now That You’ve Got It All Figured Out, Plan and Write the Damn Thing.

Only you can tell the story you want to tell the way you can tell it, so do it, rework it, show it to your friends and rewrite it again until you’re somewhat satisfied.

And voilà! Hope this was somewhat helpful!

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Exercises in Self Control

It's been five years since Endeavour divorced his wife and sent her away to a hospital.

You are his second bride and all he wants is to see you naked. Based on the short story 'The Tiger's Bride' by Angela Carter. You can find a summary of it here

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Endeavor x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: Possessive behaviour, (it’s Endeavor, I mean, c’mon), Endeavor pre-redemption arc who’s still learning boundaries, references to suicide (not Reader), references to Touya, 

Endeavor is spelled Endeavour because I’m British mmkay

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Your father lost you in a game of cards.

On the surface he was a respectable man, owner of several businesses and an outspoken member of the local community. He also spent much of his free time in underground gambling dens, betting more money than he could possibly afford on poker and mahjong. By the age of fourteen, you had made peace with the fact that you would never go to college. By seventeen, you had dropped out of high school and taken on a job in a hostess bar. By twenty-five you paid almost all of the rent and took full responsibility for getting the groceries and maintaining the house.

On good days, your father would return with diamonds and tiaras and remind you and your mother that you had come from rich stock. On bad days strange men would come knocking at your door, demanding the money your father owed. It was too much for your mother, whose family ran most of Roppongi. Prior to her relationship with your father, she had never had to go without. The shame of it ate away at her until there was nothing left; finally claiming her life when you were sixteen.

You decided at her funeral that you had nothing left to lose.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You were twenty-seven when the unthinkable happened and your father finally lost everything.

Well. Almost everything.

Two weeks later, the strangest and most frightening man of all arrived at your home, ready to change your lives forever.

You knew his name, of course. Everyone did. He was Endeavour, the world’s number two hero, as famous for his flames as he was his stern demeanour. He dominated every room he entered; easily more terrifying than any yakuza you had ever met.

Your father urged you to make tea and then promptly dismissed you, which in itself wasn’t unusual. He hated discussing business matters with you or your late mother in the room, mostly because he didn’t want you to know how dire your situation actually was.

It was the first and last time you gave in to curiosity.

You stayed outside of your father’s door and listened in on the plotting within. Endeavour made a proposal shortly after; a business deal so terrible that your knees buckled underneath you and you had to hold onto the door frame.

He would settle your father’s debts and buy each one of his businesses, but in exchange he wanted to marry you.

Surely your father wouldn’t accept such a fate for you? Surely he wouldn’t agree to have you marry a man thirteen years your senior that you didn't even know?

You had heard that Endeavour was married with children. What on earth did he want with you?

You threw yourself into his office before you could stop yourself.

“Please,” you begged. “Please don’t do this!”

You fell to your knees in front of your father, but the decision had already been made. Endeavour honoured his side of the deal there and then, transferring a down payment to your father’s account, with the promise of more after the wedding.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You were married to Endeavour two days later. There was no ceremony or celebration and you signed away your life while your father counted his money.

The only pretty part of the wedding was the bouquet of white roses your soon to be husband delivered to your door and even then you cut your finger on the thorns. Endeavour took one look at the bloody smears on their beautiful white petals and appeared quite disgusted, burning them on the spot.

You thought of them as you climbed into the back of his car and bit back tears all of the way to your new home. You had sacrificed so much already, but losing any chance at love hit you the hardest. You told yourself that this was the way things had to be; that if you didn’t marry this man, your father would end up dead or worse.

Even so, you couldn’t help but wonder how things might have played out if the roles were reversed. Your father would throw anything he had at a chance of glory, but you weren’t so sure that extended to his loved ones.

You supposed it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered now was the man sitting beside you. In certain lights he didn’t look human; teeth fractionally too long and eyes too sharp. He did not speak his vows, so much as growl them.

You were going to have to have sex with this monster of a man and that knowledge left you twisting and turning your hands in your lap.

You expected him to take you to one of his other apartments, but in the end he took you to his main residence, opening the car door for you in silence and gesturing for you to follow him up the path. His house was massive and you shivered as you saw it, suddenly convinced that it wasn’t only your husband who would swallow you whole.

Every room your husband took you to was bare, as if the house was merely for show and not a family home. His staff stared at you as you passed, as curious of the new bride as any other exotic animal. You wondered how they saw you. Did they think you were despicable to even consider replacing the previous Mrs Todoroki? Did they look at your bright eyes and white wedding dress and think of you as a lamb to the slaughter? Did they think you were a whore? A jezebel who seduced their master for his money? They kept their cards close to their chest.

You weren’t sure what was stranger about the experience: the absurd circumstances behind your arrival at the residence; the way your husband gruffly pointed out each room to you; the fact that even now that you were his wife, he never once looked you in the face. It was all so very overwhelming and you couldn’t help but feel dizzy.

Endeavour’s children had been noticeably absent from the wedding. You knew that the circumstances were unconventional, but it surprised you nonetheless. You were going to be their stepmother. This would be a strange period for all involved.

As it happened, they were absent from their family home too, not only in presence, but sentiment. He pointed out each of his children’s rooms and skimmed over their ages, but that was the only sign they existed at all.

Fuyumi was seventeen, Natsuo fourteen and Shoto the youngest at ten. He passed by the final room with little in the way of acknowledgement, though you paused to read the name on the door.

Touya

The door was ajar, with just enough space for you to see inside, though you didn’t get the chance, for your husband noticed you weren’t following and came back to take you by the arm.

“You won’t be going into that room,” he said, without a hint of doubt in his voice.

You wondered why such an innocuous room was forbidden, though didn’t get the chance to wonder about it for long, as you arrived at the master bedroom.

Of all of the rooms in the house, this was the emptiest. It had a king sized bed with plain white bed covers, a dressing table and simple wardrobe and a set of bedside drawers. That was it, though. There were no photographs on the walls, no bookshelves, no possessions. Much like the rest of the house, it was as if no one lived there. The closest thing to a personal item was the mirror on the dressing table.

Endeavour closed the door behind you and it echoed on your senses, like the snap of a bear trap around your ankle. You were alone with him now, far away from home, with no one to save you or take you away. Your eyes filled with tears before you could stop them.

“Strip,” he said, with no room for argument.

“No,” you whispered, hugging your arms around your body.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this and didn’t bother anymore to hide it. You didn’t want to offer up your body to him. You couldn’t think of anything more frightening or distasteful than his hands on your skin.

“Strip,” he said again, but you refused him just as before.

It was just as you had feared; this man wasn’t used to or fond of being told ‘no’.

He grabbed one of the arms you had been using to shield your body. He was strong, too strong, and your attempts to resist were fruitless.

“We won’t be having sex,” he said, as if it would comfort you, “but I will see you.”

For some reason, that only made you cry harder. He squeezed your arm, sending a rush of heat through your skin.

“No,” you said, voice trembling and arm stinging. “I’d rather die.”

You looked up into his face and realised that this was the first time since his arrival on your doorstep that he’d actually looked at you. His gaze drifted from your tearful face to your heated arm to the cut on your finger from the wedding bouquet. You hadn’t gotten the chance to put on a band aid. He stared at the dressing table mirror behind you for an uncomfortably long time.

Something changed in his expression and he dropped your arm, saying nothing as you held it to your body. He said nothing, in fact, even as he left the room and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving you alone in the enormous bedroom.

You dropped to the floor and hugged your knees to your chest, sobbing silently at this terrible sequence of events. You hated your father, hated your new home, hated the heavy footsteps of your new husband as he prowled the hallways.

You stared into the dressing table mirror as he had, taking in your tearstained face and white wedding dress. You knew that under different circumstances you were beautiful. There had never been any point in denying it. You had taken advantage of it at the hostess bar, using your youth and good looks to make a fortune.

You were not beautiful then, though. Your hair was a mess and your arm pink where he’d held onto you. You rubbed the tears from your eyes and got to your feet, stepping closer to the mirror and loosening your gown.

He had told you that he would not have sex with you, and you wondered why, running your fingers over your exposed chest. Many men had tried and failed to get you into bed, be it buying expensive trinkets or leaving you hefty tips. You were all too aware that your body was the only thing you had left to barter and Endeavour meant to take ownership of that too. He had not lost control that day, but someday he would.

You vowed that you would never allow it, no matter what it took.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You spent the evening listening out for Endeavour’s footsteps in the hall, waiting for the inevitable moment he came back to the bedroom, to sleep if nothing else. He never came back, though, and you fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, sprawled across the bed.

You woke a matter of hours later with a crick in your neck, eyes burning from keeping them open for so long. You squeezed your eyes shut and willed your surroundings to be different when you opened them. With any luck, you’d wake up back in your own bed to your own alarm clock, your father calling for you to get up and make coffee.

That’s not what happened, though. You were still in the master bedroom at Endeavour’s house -now your house- in the same wedding dress you’d had on the night before. You wondered what time it was. Sunlight shone through the blinds but, given it was the middle of summer, that didn’t mean much. It could have been four in the morning or two in the afternoon.

Someone was trying to wake you, though, someone knocking at your door far too gently to be your husband. You sat up and hobbled over to the door, wondering what on earth would greet you when you opened it.

In the end, you need not have worried.

It was a member of the house staff, clutching a pile of clothes and letting herself into the room the moment you opened the door.

“Good morning,” she said without looking at you, setting the clothes down onto the bed. “I’m here to get you ready for breakfast.”

“Oh, I…”

“Mr. Todoroki has decided you should wear this today,” she said, picking up a white summer dress from the pile.

“Thank you,” you said, “but I-”

You had clothes of your own. You remembered packing them the day before your wedding.

“Your bathroom is across the hallway,” she said, as if you’d said nothing at all. “Let me know if there’s something else you require.”

You accepted the outfit she held out to you, deciding to humour her for now. You would change into your own clothes when she wasn’t looking.

“One more thing,” she said, as you headed for the door. “Mr. Todoroki wanted you to have this.”

She held out a small jewellery box and you stared at it, picking it up in curiosity. You already had a wedding ring, what could this be?

You didn’t want to open it while the other woman was there, so you carried it into the bathroom with you.

You had never had your own bathroom before and, much like everything else in the house, this one was unnecessarily large. Someone had filled the cupboards with everything you might need: freshly laundered towels, aspirin, soaps, a toothbrush still in its packaging. It was as if you had entered a hotel bathroom and not a room of your very own.

You opened up the jewellery box as you ran yourself a bath. Inside was a pair of diamond earrings that sparkled in the light. They were beautiful, undoubtedly, but you weren’t sure you wanted to wear them. You had worn your mother’s earrings almost every day since her funeral and didn’t want to change that now.

You closed the box and set it to one side, stealing glances at it as you soaked in the bathtub. You would thank your husband later. It was the least you could do.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You arrived at the breakfast table a short while later, stomach fluttering from nerves and hunger. You had no idea what awaited you, only that your mouth watered at the smell of food, in no small part because you hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day.

The housekeeper showed you to the breakfast table and, for a moment, you wished you had stayed in your room. Suddenly you were the main focus of four sets of eyes.

Endeavour and his children all sat at the table, clearing their plates in silence. The children appeared more than a little baffled to see you there and your stomach churned. Something about this was very, very wrong.

“Sit,” said Endeavour, motioning to the seat closest to him. That wasn’t wholly necessary, for all three of his children seemed to have positioned themselves as far away from him as possible.

You crossed the room, conscious all of the time of everyone’s eyes on you.

“This is (Name),” said Endeavour as you sat down beside him. “She’s going to be your mother from now on.”

In that moment, you realised the real reason for his children’s absence at your wedding. This was the first they had heard about the marriage.

You couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be in their shoes. If your father had brought home a strange new woman following your mother’s death, you would almost certainly have hated her guts.

You wanted to tell them that you had about as much desire to be there as they did, but the tension in the room was too much to bear.

“I…”

The oldest of the two boys, presumably Natsuo, was the first to speak.

“What the hell do you mean? What...wh…”

“Natsuo,” murmured the girl, presumably Fuyumi. “Don’t…”

“Isn’t it enough that mother’s in a hospital because of you? Now you’re going to replace her with some...some…”

“Natsuo,” said Fuyumi, stopping her brother before he could land on the word ‘whore’.

Endeavour sipped his tea, apparently used to these sorts of outbursts. You wondered how many arguments could prompt this sort of indifference.

“As I said. (Name) is your new mother. You will give her the proper respect.”

Just as the night before, he offered no room for argument. The table fell into silence once again, though only for a matter of seconds.

“I’m not going to call her mother,” said Natsuo, to which his sister elbowed him in the ribs.

“Natsuo, that’s enough,” she hissed, before turning to you with a weak smile. “Welcome to the family...m…”

She cleared her throat, glancing from you to Endeavour, who watched her in turn.

“Mother.”

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

Endeavour left for work shortly after, announcing that you were not to leave the grounds except to meet him at the door when he returned. Just like that, he left you alone with his children, two of which swiftly dismissed themselves from the table. Only the youngest remained and he stole glances at you every so often with his mismatched eyes. You wondered how he had ended up with such a prominent burn mark on his face. You told yourself you didn’t want to know.

He got to his feet after clearing his plate, conflict visibly playing out across his face.

“Excuse me,” he said, before leaving the room.

You picked at your food for a little while before giving up, Endeavour’s words playing over and over in your mind. You were not to leave the grounds. You were to be the mother of his children, but none of them would be yours. He would decide what clothes you wore, which rooms of the house you went in. You had come to him a virgin and, as he had no intention of having sex with you, would remain so for the rest of your life. Overnight your life had become just as muted as the white roses he had picked out for you.

You wondered why his previous wife had ended up in a hospital. Had her circumstances been at all similar to yours?

No, you decided, they couldn’t have been. She was the mother of each one of the children at his breakfast table. There had clearly been some sort of physicality between them.

In that case, why were you so different?

What had changed in the past few years?

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

After breakfast you went to your bedroom to change out of the summer dress and into your own clothes, only to make a shocking discovery. You remembered packing your clothes; remembered sobbing into them as you took them from your drawers. You had expected them to have been taken into your wardrobe or stored somewhere in your room, but you couldn’t find them anywhere. The only clothes in your wardrobe were the ones the housekeeper had brought in earlier.

You told yourself that it had to be a mistake. You rifled through the wardrobe and under your bed for a flash of colour or anything familiar, though found nothing of the sort. When you flagged down the house staff, they seemed just as confused as you. Mr. Todoroki had said nothing about your possessions coming to the house. He had, however, made it perfectly clear that you were to have new clothes based on his own incredibly specific preferences. You were to have nothing made of silk or satin, no lace embroidery or skirts above the knee. Your necklines were to be no lower than your collarbones and the heels on your shoes three inches high at most.

He meant for no one to see you but himself and that only made you more determined to hide yourself from view.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

Days passed, each as slowly as the next, a never ending cycle of silent meals, boredom and your husband’s predictable nightly visits. Every night, just as every night before it, he would close the door to your bedroom and speak the same single word.

“Strip.”

You refused every night and he pressed the matter over and over until he grew tired.

That first night was the only time he ever touched you. He did not lean down for a kiss when he returned to the house. He never once reached for your hands.  He would slam the door behind him and stomp around the house but he did not try to drag your clothes off himself.

Weeks passed by, in fact, without you so much as sharing a bed. A lot of the time he did not even eat meals with the rest of the family. The house staff explained that he very often slept away from the main building, in a secluded part of the estate once reserved for his youngest son.

Sometimes you slept naked, just to spite him.

One day, you told yourself, he would get bored of your constant refusals and send you back to your father. Until then you would have to be resilient.

You thought you had everything worked out. You thought you had him all worked out.

As with so many other aspects of your life, though, you soon realised your mistake.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

Three weeks into your marriage, you sat on the porch with a bowl of shaved ice in an attempt to combat the summer heat. By then you knew every square inch of the garden; knew the title of every book in the house. As miserable as it was, the most exciting part of your day was waiting at the gate for your husband, but even that was hours from then.

Your only other source of entertainment was the cat that very often came to bask in the afternoon sun, though more recently had taken to nudging you for pets to the head. On this particular day, it was chasing butterflies through the garden and you laughed as you watched. You wished you could be as free as that cat, coming in and out of this household whenever you pleased. You missed your friends, missed going out for drinks, missed going shopping for new shoes. Hell, you even missed your father. You hadn’t heard from him since the wedding.

You took a spoonful of shaved ice, enjoying the cold against your tongue. For the briefest of moments, all was right in the world.

That is, until the butterfly the cat had been chasing changed course and flew into the house, leaving the cat to follow suit. You set down your bowl and cursed under your breath, getting up to catch it before chaos ensued.

You rushed through the hallways, peering into every corner for the cat or the butterfly and seeing neither. You wondered where they had gone and wandered deeper into the house.

The cat streaked across your path, heading towards the bedrooms and you gave chase, reaching out to catch it and following it through an open door. You didn’t stop to think about which room you had gone into, far too caught up in the euphoria of scooping the cat into your arms. The moment you turned to leave, however, you realised your mistake.

This room was even emptier than the others, save for an altar lined with photographs of the same boy. Touya, you realised. There was no one else it could be.

This was the room Endeavour had told you not to come into and in that moment you understood why. When your mother died, you had been angry at everyone; yourself for every argument you had ever had; your father for allowing such a tragedy to happen. You hadn’t wanted to go to her funeral, didn’t want to accept that any of it was real.

You couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose a child and it must have shown in your body language, for the cat suddenly wriggled out of your arms and escaped through the open door.

You hugged your arms around your body, a chill creeping up your spine. Touya gazed out at you from every photograph, the same stern look in his eyes that Endeavour had. You weren’t supposed to be there and even the room seemed to know.

“What are you doing here?”

Someone called to you from the doorway, dragging you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Natsuo standing there, practically trembling with anger.

“I,” you said, realising how it must have looked. “I’m sorry, I-“

“This is my brother’s room,” he said. “You have no right to be in here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, “a cat came in here and...I’m sorry...I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn't,” said Natsuo. “Why would you? It’s not like he’d ever tell you the truth. Even the worst of the worst would turn their noses up if they knew.”

He laughed miserably and you wondered what he meant. No one would turn their noses up at a grieving parent.

“How does it feel,” he said, “being married to a murderer?”

At that, your blood ran cold.

“What are you talking about?”

You didn’t like where this conversation was going.

You remembered how you had felt on your wedding day; your observation that Endeavour was more monster than man.

You had fallen so far into good behaviour and small victories that you had forgotten your fear on that first night.

You clapped a hand over your mouth for fear that you’d be sick and stumbled back out of the house. You needed fresh air, needed to escape. You walked along the garden path and didn’t stop, leaving the grounds far behind you.

You knew Endeavour had forbidden you from leaving. You knew he would be furious when he returned home and found you gone. You couldn’t stop, though, walking as far as the business district before finally stopping for air.

You hadn’t planned any sort of escape and it showed. You had no money for train fare and had left your phone in the house.

There was really only one place you could go.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

White Rabbit was the best known hostess bar in Musutafu and for good reason. It was sleek and stylish and, most importantly, discreet. All of its employees were carefully vetted and given months of training, making their debut only when they were as confident at karaoke as they were making cocktails.

The bar didn't open until the evening, but the boss was always on site by noon, crunching numbers and checking stock.

He was polishing glasses at the bar when you walked through the door and it was immediately clear that he didn’t recognise you.

“Ahhh, apologies, we aren’t open just yet!”

“Not even to me?”

He froze when you got a little closer, eying you from head to toe.

“It can’t be… (Name)??!?!”

He set aside the glass before you could answer, rushing out from behind the bar to look at you properly.

“As I live and breathe,” he said, “I didn’t recognise you.”

You glanced at your reflection in a nearby mirror, taking in your sweaty face and modest dress. You weren’t sure you would have recognised yourself either in his position.

He drew you into a hug and it took everything you had not to cry. You were still a minor when you interviewed for a job in his bar, but he took you on anyway, concerned that if left to wander the streets you would end up somewhere far less reputable. He kept you in training until your eighteenth birthday and even then kept you away from one on one sessions until you turned twenty.

He poured you a drink and you gave him the bare bones of the past few weeks, from your sudden marriage to your new role as a stepmother to your husband’s desire for nothing more than to see you naked.

You said nothing of your earlier conversation with Natsuo. That part was still sinking in.

The boss nodded at just the right moments, though didn’t seem at all surprised by anything you told him.

“I did wonder if that would be the case,” he said at last. “I suppose I share some of the blame in this matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...you see...I was the one who told him your name.”

“You what ?”

This wasn’t a betrayal, but it felt like one.

Your boss sighed and took a seat beside you, his own story to tell.

About a year and a half ago a man came into the bar, offering obscene amounts of money for his presence to be kept a secret. He refused to hand over his name and was almost unrecognizable without his costume or fiery beard, but your boss was far too clever to be fooled. He knew within an hour or two that this man was the flame hero and was only too happy to adhere to his requests. If Endeavour became a regular, there was a lot of money in it for him.

It paid off, for Endeavour did indeed become a regular, even if your boss didn’t fully understand his reasons until later. He had no interest in booking company and always ordered the same drink, demanding that only the boss waited on his table. He wanted to be left alone and drink in peace and for months that was exactly what he did.

That all changed about a year ago, when one of the hostesses caught his attention. You. Endeavour still wanted to drink in privacy, with only the boss to attend him, but he also wanted to be positioned where he could see you. You and only you were permitted to mix his drinks.

You could barely believe your ears at this new information. You remembered having to drop whatever you were doing to mix strawberry daiquiris for a VIP, though would never in a million years have guessed it was Endeavour.

The mystery of the Strawberry Daiquiri Man had plagued you for months. You had chatted about it with the other girls and even tried to wheedle details from your boss. He was a professional, though, and far too discreet to let anything slip.

Endeavour’s requests soon got out of hand. He paid extra to have you spend the night at the bar instead of entertaining customers. He gave you hefty tips, he had the boss send you jewellery, all of which you sold shortly after.

About six months ago he asked the boss how much he would have to pay to sleep with you, to which the boss refused to answer. Some things just weren’t for sale, even to a VIP. Of course, as you yourself knew quite well, Endeavour did not take kindly to being told no. He told the boss that he had to have you; he needed you to be his and his alone. After many not too subtle threats, be it asking how fire resistant the bar actually was to implying that he might look the other way the next time he learned of trouble in the area, the boss caved and told him your full name. He offered up no further information, but that was all it took for him to find you.

The rest, as they say, was history. He showed up on your doorstep and bought you from your father, finally possessing you completely.

“I don’t understand,” you said, stirring your soda with your straw. “On our wedding night he said he had no intentions of having sex with me...but you’re telling me he was willing to pay?”

“I think he would have done just about anything for the privilege. I’ve never seen a man so heated...so to speak.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” you said. “Any of it.”

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

The weight of recent revelations was almost too much. With your boss’s blessing, you let yourself into the dressing room upstairs to take a breather and evaluate your situation.

You hadn’t realised how much you missed the familiar scent of stale perfume and pot pourri that lingered in every corner. There was still a pile of glossy magazines on the dressing table; still a set of abandoned pantyhose draped over the stool. You had spent so much time there over the past decade that it felt like coming home.

You were tempted to sit down at the table and indulge yourself further, but had a sudden flash of inspiration. You hadn’t come into this room when you handed in your notice. You had been too upset at the prospect of never coming back. As a consequence, you hadn’t emptied your locker, where you kept a set of spare clothes in case of booze related emergencies.

Your fingers shook as you entered the combination, praying that the boss hadn’t emptied it ahead of hiring a replacement. Fate seemed to be on your side, though, for jeans and an envelope of cash greeted you the moment it clicked open.

You snatched up the envelope and counted the notes. You had always kept a secret stash away from the house, knowing that your father wasn’t above searching your room in search of money. There was enough there for a plane ticket; enough to cover a hotel for several weeks.

You realised that this was your chance to escape.

You also realised that you weren’t going to take it.

Endeavour had found you using just a name. He would almost certainly figure out that one of the first places you would go was the White Rabbit. He had already threatened to burn the bar; who knew what he would do if he got into his head that the boss had helped you flee?

And then there was Natsuo’s revelation. Considering how he felt about you, it wasn’t out of the realms of possibility that he had been lying to you. Perhaps your swift escape was exactly what he wanted.

That said, if Endeavour truly had killed a child, should you leave his children alone with him?

You still had a great many questions. You didn’t understand why Endeavour had wanted so desperately to sleep with you, only to tell you he never would. Why had he gone to such a bar in the first place? What had happened to Touya? Why did your husband live away from the main residence?

There were too many pieces to this puzzle and none of them fitted together, but one thing you knew for certain.

No matter where you went, he would almost certainly track you down. If you went back, at least, it would be on your own terms.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You returned to the house a short while later, just in time for your daily text message from your husband. He always texted you before leaving the office and then again a few minutes later if you had not yet replied. You weren’t sure what would happen if you failed to respond to the second one, largely because waiting for Endeavour to text was the most eventful part of your day.

You responded to the text and then packed away the clothes from your locker. The envelope of money you stashed away in the bathroom, emptying out the bottle of aspirin and rolling your notes inside.

It was like smuggling contraband and easily the most fun you had had since arriving at the house. It gave you a newfound confidence for when your husband came to your room. You were going to ask him about his presence at the bar; you were going to ask him about Touya. You felt brave enough to do just about anything.

That night, though, he didn’t come and you kept yourself awake long into the early hours of the morning, listening out for his footsteps as you had on that first night. Once again, you fell asleep sprawled across the bed, only to be woken by the house staff the following morning.

Endeavour, as it turned out, had outfoxed you.

He had arranged for you to take a trip that weekend to a private onsen in the mountains. As husband and wife you would almost certainly have to share a room and you would have little choice but to take off your clothes.

You scowled in the car all of the way there. This was supposed to be your victory. You were supposed to be the one holding all of the cards.

You refused to undress for him. Just the thought made you angry.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You had to hand it to him. The mountains were beautiful.

You peered out of the window as you arrived in your room, taking in the sight of the summer flowers and open air. It almost distracted you from the elephant in the room; the single futon you would share for the night. You refused to think about it, grateful for the simple hiking trail around the property. You occupied yourself with admiring the view, wandering ahead of Endeavour and snapping pictures on your phone of the skyline.

Your stomach churned as you sat down to dinner, time steadily running out. You had no idea how you were going to get out of this. You couldn’t think of a single scenario where you came out on top. You stared into space as you showered your body, fastening your towel far tighter than was necessary and pinning your hair loosely in the hopes that it would fall.

Despite the steam and summer heat, you shivered as you stepped out towards the bath. Under ordinary circumstances you would have been excited at the prospect of relaxing under the stars, but right then you were terrified. You clenched your hands into fists to hide how much they shook.

The simmering heat; the silent night. Was this how it felt to enter a dragon’s lair?

“Sit there,” said Endeavour, pointing to the side of the bath.

You blinked.

You had expected him to watch you undress. Why, then, was he instructing you to sit away from the water?

Your bewilderment must have shown in your face, for he sighed deeply.

“Just sit there,” he said, sounding just as frustrated as every time you had refused him.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you went to sit down where he had asked. Endeavour waited for you to be fully seated before stepping towards the water. He looked you straight in the eye and then cast aside the towel covering his waist.

You willed yourself to be modest and look away from his nakedness, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

When he wore clothes he was imposing.

Without them he was magnificent.

He had a broad chest and sculpted waist, all of which was covered in a fine layer of hair. The evening sunlight cast shadows across his muscles, highlighting every contour and scar. He practically shone where the water touched him and your mouth ran dry.

His hair grew thicker on the lower half of his body, though it did nothing to hide how thick his thighs were, nor the sheer enormity of his cock even while flaccid. You caught yourself staring at it, wondering how big it would be at full tilt. If his fingers were anything to go by, it would leave you limping for days.

Your stomach fluttered, though not from fear. Had his jawline always been so sharp? Had his eyes always been so bright?

It was as if he had been carved from stone and he let you stare at him, not in the least bit self conscious. He sat down in the water and leaned back against the edge you were sitting on, close enough that you could reach him if you wanted to.

You realised with horror that you did.

“Something wrong?”

“N-no,” you said, turning away to look over the horizon. “Nothing.”

You weren’t used to this sort of desire. It crept over you unbidden, like the steam from the bath.

You closed your eyes, taking in the sounds of birdsong and gurgling water.

“Move over,” you said, shifting positions.

“Wh-”

Endeavour turned to you, mystified.

“Don’t look,” you pouted, getting to your feet and fiddling with your towel. You cast it aside like a second skin and stepped down into the ghostly waters

The water was hotter than you had thought; it prickled your skin as you sank. You didn’t know why you were surprised. Endeavour was a flame hero, it made sense that he was used to heat.

He simmered next to you even then, warmth radiating from his body.

You sank down to your collar bones, shielding as much of your body from view as you did when fully clothed. You sat in silence, listening to the sound of birds overhead. You realised that this was the longest you had been alone with your husband since the wedding.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“For the jewellery.”

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to thank him. The only time he normally spoke to you was when he asked you to undress. It was leagues out of the ordinary and he seemed to think so too, for he stayed quiet for a few seconds.

Finally he nodded his head and grunted by way of response.

“You don’t wear them,” he said.

“No. They’re just so beautiful...I’m afraid I might ruin them.”

He fell quiet again at that, awkwardness bleeding out of his words when he next spoke.

“I would like it...if you wore them.”

Perhaps it was the change in your surroundings; perhaps it was your mutual state of undress. Whatever the explanation, this was not the man who had grabbed your arm on that first night. This one was subdued and clumsy in his kindness and you wondered which one was real.

You hugged your knees to your chest, just as you had on your wedding night. This time, though, you did not cry.

“Endeavour,” you said.

“Hmmm?”

“What happened to Touya?”

He stiffened at that and, for a second, you were sure the water burned. You realised that you had certainly poked at a sore spot, but knew it would be a long time before you got such an opportunity again.

“Why are you asking about that?”

The tension in his body showed in his voice too.

“I just...I’ve heard... certain things.”

“Like what?”

You chose your words carefully, making sure not to name Natsuo.

“I heard that...well…”

You turned to look at him and he glared right back, searching your face for hints at what you were about to ask.

“Well? Spit it out.”

You told yourself that this was no time to be afraid.

“I heard he was dead...and…”

“And I killed him?”

You closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

Endeavour sighed, sinking down into the water.

You willed him to tell you it was a lie; a bit of maliciousness on his son’s part. In Natsuo’s place you would have done the same.

He didn’t, though.

“That’s right,” he said. “I did kill him.”

Despite the heat from the water, the steam, from him, his words sent shivers down his spine. He said it as casually as if you’d asked if he had remembered to pack a handkerchief.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked. “Does it make you feel better?”

He moved to get to his feet, but you reached for his arm. He froze on the spot at your touch and you realised that this was the first time you had touched him of your own volition.

“Wait,” you said, taking advantage of his hesitation. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“I’m your wife,” you said. “Right now it’s my main concern.”

You had him and you knew it. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and cursed under his breath, though didn’t try to shrug you off.

“Fine,” he said. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. From the beginning.”

You didn’t want to flinch from this. You wouldn’t flinch from this. He was a pro hero and there had to be a reason, even if it wasn’t one you wanted to hear.

“Touya was my first born,” he said. “My first attempt.”

“Attempt? Attempt at what?”

He glared at you and you fell silent.

“I’ve been the number two since I was twenty,” he said. “I knew I always would be even then. With my own strength, I could never beat All Might. Another’s strength, though, refined and perfected…"

He lifted a hand out of the water and clenched it into a fist, the water on his hand turning to steam.

“My knowledge...my techniques,” he said, “everything I am and more…”

“And that was Touya?”

“Touya,” he nodded, “and then Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shoto. Until we got to Shoto not one of them was perfect. Fuyumi and Natsuo both favoured their mother’s side of the family. Touya favoured fire, but inherited his mother’s constitution.”

“Constitution?”

“R-My ex wife is an ice user. When Touya got his quirk, he set himself on fire,” he said. “My body is built to burn, but his wasn’t. His was built to insulate and trap heat to protect against the cold. However hot his flames burned, his body burned twice over. If he used his quirk for too long, he broke out in blisters and burns. Fire users run hotter than most people and Touya…well...his flames ran hotter than mine.”

You swore you saw him smile at that. You got the feeling he meant it in more ways than one.

“Shoto is my heir,” he said. “He is the perfect combination of fire and ice. His body does not burn or freeze. That one will achieve what I could not…”

“But…”

“...but it came at a cost. Namely, my ex wife’s mental state. I made a lot of mistakes...did some things I’m not proud of. One day I… heard Shoto screaming. His mother had burned him. I’ve never heard a noise like it. I don’t think I ever will.”

“If she was an ice user, how did she burn him?”

“Kettle.”

“Oh.”

“She’s in a hospital now,” he said. “I had her taken away. Our marriage was over.”

“Because she hurt your son?”

“She damaged my property.”

You didn’t know why you were surprised to hear him speak such a way of his children when he had told your boss that he had to possess you. Even so, it stung.

Not to mention, you still had questions.

“But… what does this have to do with Touya?”

“He was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Rei, my ex wife...Touya’s death was what truly broke her in the end.”

“What happened to him?”

“One day, in training, we both lost our temper. His technique was wrong; he’d been slacking off; he hadn’t taken heed of any of my lessons. He told me he didn’t want to be a hero, which was ridiculous. Of course he’d be one. Once he managed to endure his own flames, he would be an even stronger flame user than me.”

You had a feeling you knew what was coming next.

“He was angry that day. I told him he’d be a hero whether he wanted to or not and he told me that he’d rather die. In the end...he chose death. I sent him away...somewhere he could still be of use. A government program...They told me later that he burned his flames far hotter than he ever had before, so hot that he burned himself alive. He died in the hospital two days later. The doctors told me that even if he had survived, he would have needed full body skin grafts and the kickback from his quirk would be far more severe than before.”

Endeavour closed his eyes, leaning back against the water’s edge.

“I don’t understand,” you said, “Touya killed himself. That wasn’t you.”

“I didn’t hand Rei the kettle either,” he said, “but I might as well have.”

You weren’t sure what to say. It felt inappropriate somehow. In the end, you settled on your own suspicions.

“How long ago...with Rei, I mean? When did she leave?”

“Two years ago. Why?”

“No reason,” you said. “I was just curious, is all.”

You weren’t lying; you really were curious, just not necessarily in the way he thought. He didn’t know that you had talked to your boss and, consequently, knew he had started coming to the White Rabbit only a matter of months after his wife’s hospital admission.

The pieces of the puzzle were changing shape, though you still couldn’t quite see the greater picture. You still couldn’t understand why he had married you; why he had so desperately needed to possess you, only to hold you at a distance. There was a reason somewhere and you were infuriatingly close to finding it.

Endeavour watched you, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction. He did not seem to approve of your silence and stood up once again, getting up out of the baths and reaching for his towel.

“Wait,” you said, turning to face him.

You wanted to thank him for telling you the truth; for exposing himself to you so unapologetically.

You stood up yourself and exposed your own body, though only to waist level. You straightened your back and looked him dead in the eye in an attempt to hide how nervous you actually were. You might have worked in a hostess bar, but no man had ever seen you naked. You waited there in silence, watching as he took in the swell of your breasts and shade of your nipples. You wondered what sort of expectations he might have harboured and if the real thing lived up to them. Whatever the case may be, he finally gathered his composure with a ‘tccch’ and stormed back inside.

You decided to count that one as a victory.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You stayed in the bath for a while longer before returning to your room.

You realised as you reached for the door handle that you had forgotten all about the shared futon, which filled you with a far different sort of fear than before. You now knew what your husband looked like without his clothes; if you slept beside him you wouldn’t get any sleep. All it would take was a brush of his body against yours to leave you thinking about how he had looked climbing out of the water.

To your surprise, Endeavour seemed to have already anticipated this. During your absence, he had swapped the double bed for two singles, along with a shield to divide both beds. Your husband had already gone to sleep with his back to the barricade, snoring softly.

It was a kind gesture and you couldn’t help but smile as you changed into your nightclothes and tucked yourself into bed, eyes darting to the shield and your husband’s silhouette. Even then, laid on his side, his back was broader than any you’d seen. You wondered how it might feel to drag your nails across it and then cursed yourself for doing so.

He was just a man, you told yourself. There were millions of them in the world.

You hadn’t seen all of them naked, though.

You didn’t want them as you wanted him.

He slept with his back to the shield, but you slept facing it, smoothing your fingertips over the wood until you fell asleep.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

The next few weeks were a new brand of torture.

The summer grew even hotter and you spent much of your time on the porch, drinking iced tea and fanning yourself to no avail. No matter how many ice cold baths you took, no matter how few clothes you wore as you slept, no matter how many windows you opened, nothing could cool you down and you feared the summer heat wasn’t entirely to blame.

Your husband no longer begged you to undress. Since returning from the onsen he had not come to your room at all and it bothered you more than you liked to admit.

You wondered if you had made a terrible mistake by letting him see you.

Every time you crossed paths in the house, you caught yourself eying the parts of his clothes that pulled against his muscles, knowing what lay beneath.

It was a problem.

You were starting to want him to come to your room. You wanted him to beg and plead to see more of you, just so you could have the pleasure of telling him no.

You wanted his attention, wanted to feel his gaze on your body, though had to settle for your own fingers. You touched yourself every night that he neglected you, running a hand between your legs and tentatively running your finger across your clit, which had never seen so much attention in the twenty seven years you had walked the earth.

You would think of him as you dipped your fingers into your folds, thinking of how much bigger his hands were than yours. You wondered how much he would have to warm you up before you could comfortably take his cock.

Every night you touched yourself and brought yourself to a boil, though it did nothing to ease the pressure inside of you. You would lay there, flat on your back and legs trembling, pleasure overtaking each of your senses, and none of it would be enough. It didn’t matter how hard you came, how much you changed positions or technique, your real desire ran far deeper.

One night, two and a half months after your wedding, you gave up on trying to make yourself cum.

You wanted him to want you so you could push him away...

You wanted him to want you...

You wanted him…

You wanted…

“Fuck,” you hissed, flopping back against the covers. “Ffffuck.”

You were sure you were going crazy. Every time he passed you now, you had to squeeze your thighs together.

This was how it felt to suffocate.

This was how it felt to die.

...die….

The word lingered at the back of your mind.

How ironic that only a short time ago you had told the same man that you’d rather die than let him see you naked, let alone touch you.

You closed your eyes, only for them to snap right back open. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and stared across at your reflection in the dressing table mirror.

Could it really have been that simple?

You thought back to Endeavour’s tale at the onsen; his son’s last words before burning himself alive.

I’d rather die.

They were the same as yours on your wedding night and only now did you make the connection. Endeavour had stared into the mirror then too, and you had always assumed it was your reflection that made him flinch. You knew now, though, that you were wrong. He had been looking at his own.

That realisation was your rosetta stone, leaving every other piece of information to fall into place.

He had introduced you to his children as their new mother, for in his mind he had ruined the last one. What was it he had called Touya? His first attempt? He had told you without a hint of hesitation that each of his children had been born in the hopes of improving upon the last. Refined and perfected...an extension of himself.

You realised that the same was true of your marriage.

Losing his son and sending his wife away to a hospital had almost certainly brought to light a number of harsh truths. You weren’t the only one who had looked at him and seen a monster.

Just like Rei, you were the means to an end.

You were an exercise in self control.

He had held himself at a distance to prove to himself that he could. He had chosen to keep you chaste and childless because he desired the opposite and acting on his previous desires had ended in disaster.

Just like that, you understood your situation.

You knew what you had to do.

You got up from the bed and rummaged through your wardrobe, dragging out the pile of clothes you had smuggled out of the White Rabbit . Among your jeans and spare shoes was a silk nightgown, left behind for the occasions you slept at the bar. You pulled it on like a second skin, giving yourself a twirl and watching in the mirror as the fabric caught the light.

Next, you reached into your dressing table drawers for the various pieces of jewellery he had given you over the past few weeks. For the first time in over a decade, you took out your mother’s earrings and swapped them with the shining diamond ones from your husband.

You combed out your hair and fastened your nightgown so tightly that it hid how bare you were underneath, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror before leaving the room. You paused in the kitchen, a wry smile breaking out across your face at the scheme coming to mind.

┍━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━┑

You had never been to the empty side of the property where Endeavour lived. You had no idea how he occupied himself when he wasn’t at work or sitting in stoic silence. You wondered what he was doing as you slipped away from the house, the moonlight shining on your pale nightgown.

You never did find out, knowing only that his voice rumbled through the door as you knocked.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, finally able to relate to your gambler of a father. This was just as much of a gamble as a round of poker, even if you knew you held all of the cards.

He had been getting ready for bed, wearing loose jogging pants and a tank that left little to the imagination. You weren’t sure who exactly he expected to visit at such a time of day, but you knew within an instant that it wasn’t you, much less as you were now. His eyes darted from your opalescent nightgown to your loose hair, to the earrings that twinkled as they hit the lamplight, to the blood red cocktails you had mixed before leaving.

Strawberry Daiquiris, stained red with Grenadine. Your speciality. His favourite.

“What are you doing here?”

You didn’t answer, instead walking straight past him.

As you had suspected, this house was a near perfect copy of the main building and you made your way to the bedroom as if by heart. You stopped at the door to the master bedroom, turning back to check if he followed, just as he had on the day of your wedding.

You were not nearly as nervous this time around.

This time you wanted him to swallow you whole.

He had not followed you, preferring to watch you prowl his home as if it belonged to you. You reached for the door handle and cocked an eyebrow.

“Well? Are you coming?”

That was enough to leave him lumbering forwards.

You stepped inside of the bedroom, waiting for him to follow before taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

“What are y-”

“Peppermint,” you said, to which he appeared confused.

“Peppermint?”

“It’s my safe word. What’s yours?”

He scratched his chin, though stepped closer. You got the feeling he had never had to think of one before, much less used one.

“I don’t have one,” he said at last. “Never needed one.”

“Peppermint it is, then,” you said, before straightening your back, a near perfect imitation of his own body language. “Now. Strip.”

Of all of the things you could have said, he definitely hadn’t been expecting that. He took another step closer.

“Undress me,” he said.

“No.”

He took another step closer, too close, and you lifted a leg, gently pressing your foot to his belly to retain the distance.

He was a big man, realistically speaking. If he wanted to, he could easily have swatted your leg away and taken command.

He took a step back, though, and peeled off his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined stomach. You did not bother to be discreet, brazenly admiring his body and biting your bottom lip.

You were still holding your leg up, ready to hold him back if he came closer. He glanced from your leg to your hungry expression, before sighing and dropping his pants. He had not been wearing any sort of underwear and you took a sip of your drink, making a point to lick your lips as you dropped your leg.

He came closer and you stretched out your other arm, offering up the second cocktail.

Not only did he take it, but he swallowed it in one gulp, reaching up to rub the red smears from his lips. You downed your own and passed him the glass, taking the chance to admire his butt as he turned to place them on the nearest counter. There was something oddly satisfying about watching a naked man enjoy one of your drinks, especially when said naked man was as well built as this one.

He turned to look at you and this time you motioned for him to come closer. You continued to do so as he stepped forwards, only stopping to motion for him to get down on his knees. You fully expected him to protest at this point, but he dropped down immediately, looking up into your face with flushed cheeks.

You ran your fingers through his hair, wondering how you had ever been afraid of this man.

You lifted both of your legs, balancing one on each of his shoulders and reaching up to wipe the leftover syrup from your own lips. He ran his fingers over your exposed skin and spread you wide as you leaned back. You closed your eyes as you felt his warm breath on your cunt, willing him to touch you there.

Nothing could have prepared you, though, for how it would feel when he actually did. All it took was a stroke of his thumb across your clit to leave your mind falling blank. You gasped, back arching from the bed before you could stop it. He held you tighter, though did not continue, catching your eye the moment you opened them.

“Do...do that again,” you said, eyes rolling back into your head when he did.

He didn’t touch you with his lips at first, instead stroking his fingers around your folds, exploring the parts of you that he had wanted so badly. He chuckled at how wet you were, slipping the tip of his finger into you and swirling your wetness across your clit, sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine. He kissed the inside of your thigh and pinched a patch of your skin between his teeth. It would leave a mark in the morning and you didn’t care at all.

He parted your folds with one hand and held you open with the other, ghosting his tongue over your clit. You dug your nails into the bedcovers with a sigh and he ran his tongue across your flesh, sending a shudder of pleasure rocketing through your core. He turned his tongue in a figure of eight and wrote his name with his tongue, branding your cunt in the softest of ways.

You reached down to stroke your fingers through his hair, wanting to hold him there forever. He slipped a finger in then, though, and you dug your nails into his scalp. You had considered before how large his fingers were and it was apparent to you even then. He sucked at your clit and took it slowly, angling his finger to find that particular patch of nerves that would turn your insides to jelly. His touches made your stomach flutter, your legs quivering every time he made contact. You were grateful for his firm hand on your waist. Left to your own devices, you would almost certainly have been squirming in delight and grinding against his face.

He dipped his finger in and out and you willed him to go faster. The touches he didn’t make drove you just as crazy as the ones he did.

“Please,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair. “Oh g-”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He pumped his finger into you so quickly that you could hear the wet sound every time he made contact. You arched your back into him, the pressure building in your core and threatening to overflow. The combination of his tongue and finger was overwhelming.

He added another finger and you snatched up the hand that had been gripping the bedcovers, digging your teeth into your fist to stifle your moans. You were close...so close and you needed some form of anchor. He didn’t seem to approve of that, though, for he let go of your waist and reached up to take it, holding you tightly as you cried out in delight.

Your stomach fluttered with butterfly light flashes of pleasure, so close to the real thing and yet so far. You couldn’t think of anything more than the growing tension within you. You stretched an arm over your head and dug your nails into the bedcovers, crying out at how close you really were.

He stopped then, though, and peered up at you through the valley of your breasts, smirking at how flushed your cheeks were. He sat up and crawled up on the bed, planting both hands on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist before you could stop yourself, linking your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss, biting at his lips and sighing when he pushed his tongue against yours. You tightened your legs around him, relishing the feel of his stomach against yours and hard dick against your thighs.

You came back to earth as he tugged at your nightgown, a stark reminder of why you had gone to him in the first place.

You pushed both hands onto his chest and he allowed you to guide him, rolling over onto his back without a word of complaint. You sat up to straddle him, crushing your lips against his before sitting up to pull the tie from your nightgown.

His eyes brightened up at the slightest flash of your body, but it didn’t last for long. He reached a hand to drag away the final barrier between you, but you slapped away his hand. He seemed confused until you lifted the tie, finally understanding your real intentions.

You refused to be his experiment; refused to be docile and fragile because he said so. Your teeth were as sharp as his and he would not control you without your permission, just as you would not try to command him without his own.

He gave you a nod and sat up just a little, enough for you to drape the tie over his eyes and loop it into a simple knot. You waved a hand in front of his face and checked the gap as he laid back down, ensuring that he couldn’t see before sitting up straight and tossing aside the nightgown.

You sat down onto your hands and knees, planting soft kisses along his neck and shoulders. You kept them gentle until you reached his collar bone, at which point you sank your teeth into his skin, enough to leave a bruise but not to break the skin. He inhaled sharply and for a moment you wondered if you had gone too far, though that worry did not last for long. He reached up to stroke a hand across your exposed back, running his fingertips across your spine as you moved further down the bed.

If you had felt intimidated by the size of his dick before, you definitely were now that it was hard. It stood taller than any toy you had ever seen, much less owned, with a slight curve and prominent veins. He shuddered as you traced a single finger across one of the veins, fidgeting as you put that same finger between your lips and made an overly theatrical sucking sound, making sure to pop your lips as you pulled it back out.

“Oy,” he said, “that’s mean.”

“So am I,” you said, reaching up to squeeze your fingers around his shaft, slowly pumping your hand up and down and making sure to squeeze that much tighter as your fingers reached the tip. You leaned over and ran your tongue over the underside of his dick, mimicking the movements of your fingers until you were ready to take him into your mouth. You continued to pump your fist around his dick and bobbed your head along with the pace, making sure to suck him harder and harder and smack your lips whenever you let go.

“Fucking ffffff,” he snarled, reaching for your hair and gathering it in his hand to pin you in place. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

You made your feelings on the matter quite clear, spitting on his tip and giving him a quick stroke before taking all of him into your mouth, pushing your free hand against the bedframe and crushing the space between your thumb and forefinger, weakening your gag reflex and relishing the feel of him against your throat.

You were a virgin; not an angel. You’d watched your share of pornography.

He snarled in delight and you let go, pumping his dick far more furiously than before. You lowered the hand you had crushed against the bedframe and gave it a couple of quick clenches to restore sensation before running your fingers over your own poor, neglected clit. You touched your tongue to his dick, swirling it around the head and moaning into him whenever a pang of pleasure rushed through you.

You stole a glance at him and enjoyed what you saw. There was something sinfully sweet about the world’s number two hero falling apart at the touch of your tongue.

You wondered if anyone had given him head before.

Maybe you’d ask him when this was over.

You could tell he was close from his ragged breaths and increasingly tight grip on your hair. You didn’t know how much longer you would last either. You wanted him inside of you and found yourself jealous of your own lips and tongue.

You let go of him and crawled up the bed, straddling his waist and yanking off the makeshift blindfold. He stared up at you, drinking you in as he had the strawberry daiquiri. He reached up a hand to touch your breast and this time you let him, cupping the other yourself as you ground your pussy against him.

“Do you want me?” You asked through half-lidded eyes.

You knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it.

“Yes.”

“All of me?”

“And more.”

He swallowed drily, reaching out for your hip.

“Do you want me ?”

You closed your eyes, considering it. In truth, you did want him. You wanted his broad shoulders; wanted his rough edges; wanted his ambitions; wanted his guilt. Most of all, you wanted the lambswool he had so carefully hidden behind tiger stripes.

You smiled, considering your return to the house after your trip to the White Rabbit; the money you had tucked away in an aspirin bottle and never touched since.

“If I didn’t want you,” you said, opening your eyes and leaning your head to the side, “I wouldn’t be here.”

You sat up onto your knees and adjusted your position, taking his dick into your hand and sliding yourself down onto it. It was so much bigger than his fingers and took you a moment to adjust. You ground your hips, holding onto the hand he had placed on your hip. He loosened his grip to link his fingers with yours, holding you tight as you grew accustomed to his girth.

You rocked yourself, taking him slowly until you couldn’t stand it any longer. You arched your back and slammed yourself onto him, reaching up one hand to grab your hair and lift it over your shoulders, exposing you completely and giving him the perfect view of your bouncing breasts. The other you rested on your clit, frantically rubbing it every time your hips collided.

He squeezed your breasts; he held your hips; he groaned as you took him in. You planted your hand on his firm chest, slowing up as the tension inside of you broke.

“I’m coming,” you moaned, “oh god, I’m…”

You never got to finish that sentence, for the euphoria was too much. Your mind fell blank, the room fell into slow motion and you fell still for fear of ending the moment too soon. You cried out every time your insides squeezed around him and Endeavour watched, absorbing not only the tightness around his cock, but your own loss of control.

He pushed you backwards and spread your legs wide, pushing into you as you lay in a satisfied haze. You reached up to stroke his face as he slammed himself into you, sitting up onto his knees and holding your legs wide open as you fucked you harder. You could do nothing but watch and, in truth, you didn’t want to. It was as if all of the bones had left your body, pleasure washing over you like waves against the shore.

He bit your neck; you dragged your nails over his back. The time for common sense was gone and all you had left were animal instincts, every former pretense shattering around you like summer heat in a thunderstorm.

You dropped your hands to the bed and let him fuck you, losing track of where one wave of release came and another ended. He came with a roar, dragging himself out just in time to spill all over your stomach and breasts. You had expected him to come inside of you and found yourself oddly proud that he hadn’t.

You lay there for quite some time, catching your breath and rubbing your legs against his waist. He stared down at you as the fog lifted and he came back to earth, taking in the bite marks and puddle of semen he had left on your body. He hadn’t come out of it much better; scratches and bite marks on his neck, arms and most certainly his back.

The pair of you looked as bloody, bruised and dazed as if you had fought off a bear and you couldn’t help but smirk, admiring the tiger stripes and leopard spots you had left on each other.

He was yours and you were his.

Both of you human; both of you beasts.

[axiang-n-chengling-s-dads]

Baek Kyung: The Writer’s Stand-In

“In this messed-up world, the only moment I can be myself is when I’m with you on the stage. In both the previous book and this book, the Baek Kyung that the writer draws in our scenes is the real me.”

Baek Kyung is a well-written and complex character, who starts off as Dan Oh’s antithesis, under the writer’s control and slowly break’s free from his previous identity to find his real self.

Dan Oh’s Antithesis

“Think about it. Was there anything that changed as you’d intended? In the end we’re following the writer’s story.”

Baek Kyung while not exactly the writer’s stand-in, is someone who challenges Dan Oh constantly on her beliefs, and for a very long time represents the way the writer views things.

He is the one who points out that they couldn’t ultimately change anything, going against both Dan Oh and Haru’s faith in their power to change the story.

This comes mostly from the fact that Baek Kyung is unable to shake off the writers influence on him.

“You’ll change the story which has been drawn already? (...) How can you be sure if the writer is still drawing this or if he’s finished it already?”

Baek Kyung is also the one who points out that events are repeating themselves from the previous book, as are the lines, and suggests that the writer is more in control of them than they think. He is also the one to tell Dan Oh that it was Haru who killed her in the previous book, with the staunch belief that Haru will eventually lead to Dan Oh’s downfall.

“You cannot leave me because you’re not supposed to. That’s your fate. That’s the reason why you were born and existed to this day.” -Trumpet Creeper, to Haru

“You’ll always have to stay by my side. That’s just who you are.”- Secret, to Dan Oh

Another writer’s belief that Baek Kyung upholds is the belief in this hierarchy of extras and main characters. He believes in the realness of the stage, and that the character’s drawn by the writer for them are their true selves.

“Everything is back in its place. Its better for Dan Oh too. At least she wont suffer between the gap of the stage and shadow.”

Baek Kyung also believes in the bliss of ignorance as opposed to the burden of knowledge. When he comes to know that characters that die in the shadow lose their self-awareness, he says it wouldn’t be a bad way to be, even if you only experienced emotions the writer wrote for you and had to lose all your memories.

The Monster

“I desperately wanted everything to go back to its place. I’d hoped the stage was the reality. But it wasn’t the real you on stage. And wishing to keep you by my side knowing that you weren’t yourself, makes me a monster.”

Under the writer’s control, Baek Kyung starts off as a cold, wounded character, Dan Oh’s distant fiance. As his character, his behaviour ranges from stand-offish to downright cruel sometimes.

As Dan Oh gains self-awareness and changes as a person, Baek Kyung notices. He notices the changes in her and the entry of Haru.

He starts to gain self-awareness once, in the shadows, he begins to fall for Dan Oh and begins to regret his harsh actions on stage.

“You don’t know how I was always alone, outside the stage.”

It is important to understand the reason for his personality remaining largely unchanged from his stage self is because, unlike Dan Oh, Do Hwa, or Ju Da, Baek Kyung is unable to separate the identity the author has given him.

He also cannot divorce himself from his set up. He still grieves and blames his mother who left him when he was young, and also distances himself from Dan Oh because she reminds him of his mother. He believes that her terminal conditions means that she will leave him one day too.

“You said you didn’t know if the Eun Dan Oh in my memory was real or fake. But I wish she was real. There must be a reason why everything’s going back to what it was before.”

Like I said before, Baek Kyung thinks that the stage is the reality. When Dan Oh’s ten-year crush seems to disappear into thin air, and she claims it was fake all along, Baek Kyung is hurt and confused. For him, as for her, the memories of their childhood together were real, even if they were just a part of their set-ups.

"Light pink roses mean, ‘Only you know how I feel.’”

Another problem he has because of his fear of abandonment is that he guards his emotions very closely, and therefore they’re always painfully left unsaid. By the time he comes around to confessing to them, it is too late.

Dan Oh has already found happiness elsewhere, and is adamant in changing the stage.

“You cant help it Sae-Mi, youre the villain. (...) You need to tell them what their role is.”

In his bid to stop her from changing the stage, and his frustration with his character and the writer, Baek Kyung realises how fully he has turned into the role of the villain. Both in the stage and in the shadow, in this book and in the previous one too, he is always placed against Dan Oh in an antagonistic manner. This arc is completed when he removes her oxygen mask in the hospital and is shown that he was the one who’d killed her in ‘Trumpet Creeper’.

It is here that his worst fears come true: he was the reason why everyone he loved left him-- he was the real monster.

The Real Baek Kyung

“You (Dan Oh) are the only person who really knows me.”

Funnily enough, for someone who thought he was Dan Oh’s beginning, it is Eun Dan Oh herself who becomes the beginning of the new, the real Baek Kyung as the show draws to a close.

“They are cliches, but we’re the only ones who know how cruel and sad this is. Because we’re just Dan Oh and Baek Kyung before our characters.The Dan Oh of ‘Secret’ wants to thank you, and the Dan Oh of ‘Trumpet Creeper’ forgives you.”

Having blamed himself for her death in Trumpet Creeper and mistreatement in Secret, Baek Kyung could only truly rid himself of the writer’s clutches if he separated himself from his stage self. Eun Dan Oh’s acknowledgement of their stage roles, and of their relationship off-screen let’s him break free from the cycle of resentment and revenge.

“You can go in my place. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m doing this because I hate the writer.”

The second step in his transition is undermining the stage. As someone who fully believed in the stage’s authority, the moment where he actively works to change it is important-- he finally does the right thing helping Dan Oh recover her true self, and sheds his identity as the monster.

“(...) or hate each other from now on. Let’s put the past behind us.”

The truce with Jimmichi Fairy is also an important one. Along with Dan Oh, his character in the previous book had also harmed Jimmichi Fairy. Remembering is only painful for them because of the grudges they hold. Letting them go, and forgiving each other, Baek Kyung, JF, and Haru finally resolve their conflict, ensuring that Secret, or any book in the future does not meet a violent ending like Trumpet Creeper did.

“I am grateful that the writer made me your younger brother.”

“Thats the funniest thing you ever told me.”

“I mean it. Because that means I’m always by your side.”

This is the final step in Baek Kyung’s journey of self-discovery. Baek Kyung was someone who always felt as though he was alone, pushing away his brother even after he found out that Baek Joon-Hyun was also self-aware. Like before, he could not leave behind their setups-- he was not his real brother, but the son of the woman who’d tried to replace his mother.

Admitting that he needs Baek Joon-Hyun, and letting the latter love him, Baek Kyung finally leaves behind his old self completely, and finally finds the Real Baek Kyung.

[ameliajessicapond]

amy :-)

favorite thing about them: her wonder and heart and ability to find something fun or lovely in the face of a very un-fun, un-lovely situation. it's not blind optimism it's looking at how shitty the world is and saying, "ok well i'm still gonna paint a goofy hairstyle on this killing machine."

least favorite thing about them: terrible taste in men no i will not elaborate and honestly i don't think i need to. also no i will not pick a real flaw because i don't feel like being sad today!!!

favorite line: Amazing though, don't you think? The Star Whale. All that pain and misery. And loneliness. And it just made it kind... But I've seen it before. Very old and very kind. And the very, very last. Sound a bit familiar?

brOTP: this is just gonna make me sad because she has no friends. fuck it, amy/her gay friend laura. no it's not my self-insert yes she DOES technically exist in universe, amy was going to be a bridesmaid at her wedding.

OTP: i don't want to talk about it.

nOTP: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!!!

random headcanon: i have two very specific houses that are fully furnished and decorated and realised in my own personal headcanon. one is on the north wales coast or maybe the scottish west coast and is all greys and light blues and pebbled beach vibes and it's where amy runs away to process and Be Alone after the divorce goes through. yes the doctor shows up but it's her space and she does a lot of painting in this one room on the ground floor with an easel and a big window, and a lot of writing in the tiny box room that's directly opposite the top of the stairs and that has a dark brown desk and a nice green chair. THE OTHER house is in the south of france and is all pastels and terracotta and lavender beds out front and olive trees on the hill that goes up directly behind the house. and this is where amy and the doctor go together after they've finally sorted All That Shit out. like they've done some talking and healing and growing and reconciling and now they're going to be happy, damnit!!!! there's a big wooden dining table right next to the cluttered, light blue kitchen and they cook and laugh and open some wine and are okay!!!!!!!!!

i'm fine

unpopular opinion: season six of doctor who doesn't make sense, like irredeemably doesn't make sense, but it does begin to Just Barely Hang Together if amy and the doctor fucked at some point in s5 and she's fully lying to rory about it during the whole maybe-pregnancy arc. i WILL happily elaborate on this one.

song i associate with them: regina spektor samson UNFORTUNATELY

favorite picture of them

stunning. radiant. wonderful. my girl.

[fuckyouquiznak]

Jschlatt's Return

= Future developments in the Dream SMP plot (theories)

How does resurrection work?

• According to Philza and Eret to revive someone his ghost must be killed in the same way he lost his last canon life (that would also explain why Glatt and Ghostbur came back online recently).

• We also know they may need a totem and the knowledge of the resurrection book, which is now kept somewhere out there in the server, considering Dream said he didn't have it physically in prison with him. (He also said he destroyed it, but do we trust him? Absolutely not)

• We didn't see Tommy's revival from Dream's point of view, so it could be that Phantommy actually appeared and Dream easily killed him on the same spot of Tommy (maybe using the clock or his mask as a totem idk), but we still don't know what kind of information the book provides and how resurrection really works.

What is going to happen?

1. Quackity and Sam

• Quackity's last stream made pretty clear Big Q's intention of taking the book from Dream using all the means possible.

• However, despite the torture, Dream won't give any information. First of all he doesn't like Jschlatt, because he finds him annoying and boring (not like Wilbur) and second, of course, he knows the book's knowledge is the only thing that prevents other people from killing him. And then again, why should he give away the same power that made him a god? Quackity won't kill him without the book, and he is used to pain. Moreover he'll have some company at least.

• Quackity won't give up. He will keep visiting Dream everyday and will eventually start to like making him suffer.

• Sam instead will feel more and more guilty for what he made possible and for the person he became. He has changed since Tommy's death. He had promise to protect him and then he failed him. And then everything went wrong. He likes to believe that Dream deserves this for what he did to Tommy, but he is not sure that's the right way. Sometimes he even feels sorry for him, especially after Quackity's visits. After all Dream is just a broken person. Isn't he?

2. Tommy and the boys

• Meanwhile Tommy goes to Puffy's therapy sessions and opens up about his traumas and fears. It's hard, but it really helps having someone to talk to. Especially now.

• Since he returned to the server he has felt so lonely.

• Everyone treats him differently. Some people see him as miracle and keep asking inappropriate questions. Some others pretend nothing happened. For few of them the server just moved on; for others he is still dead.

• Even so he can't focus too much on himself right now. Stopping Dream is much more important. If Wilbur comes back... he doesn't even want to think about what he is capable of.

• They need to kill Dream, but Tommy is still too scared to come back to prison or to even touch a sword. Every time he suffers a damage he can't breathe: it's like it's happening all over again.

• He can't stay at his house anymore, on the ashes of L'Manburg, nor at his hotel, which is in Jack's hands, and he doesn't want to be alone (it reminds him of exile).

• He'll pass the time at Ranboo and Tubbo's, meeting Michael and working out a plan to kill Dream.

• In Tommy's stream Tubbo showed him his investigation report, pointing out that both Foolish and Ranboo were online when someone damaged the prison (before Tommy's dead).

• Tubbo obviously blames Foolish, nonetheless Tommy understands that something in Ranboo is corrupted.

• He tries to warn Tubbo, who underestimates his friend's words, thinking he might just be jealous of their relationship. They fight. It's a huge argument.

• "It's like you don't want me to be happy" Tubbo screams, shaking his head.

• "I don't want you to be happy without me" as soon as these words leave Tommy's mouth he immediately regrets it.

• Tubbo stays silent for a while. He seems disappointed: "You've changed".

• Tommy tighten a fist. "That's what death does to people, Tubbo, it changes them".

3. Kinoko Kingdom

• At the end Tommy will leave Snowchester and will move into Kinoko Kingdom (he liked the sign of the "free stuff", so why not?). Tommy there is welcome.

• He explains the Wilbur situation to the others, but then something bad happens.

• Hanging out with Sapnap, they talk about Ranboo and Dream's friendship and about how he acted when he received the ":)" message.

• It turns out Ranboo is guilty for the explosions in the prison that kept Sam busy during Tommy's visit to Dream.

• Tommy shows Tubbo the evidences.

4. Platonic Divorce

• After that, the platonic husbands will go through a "divorce arc".

• "How could you?" Tubbo can't help crying and screaming. "I trusted you".

• Ranboo wishes he could do something. But he is scared. He doesn't remember any of that. Did he really help Dream? Why? He doesn't...

• "I kicked out Tommy, my best friend, when he most needed me because of you! I think you should leave".

• Tubbo goes back to Tommy, apologizing. "You were right". And as much as he hates Ranboo, Tommy is broken-hearted seeing his best friend that hurt.

• However he can't help smiling when Tubbo says: "Guess it's just you and me against Dream like it has always been". It's selfish, but he really missed his best friend.

5. Connor's betrayal

• Sam talks with Connor about his doubts related to the all 'torture thing'.

• Connor tries to comfort him and decides to visit Dream with Quackity.

• Dream is relentless: "That villain arc you sewed for yourself is nice. But I won't tell you anything. And the book doesn't exist anymore, now. You can control every book in the server. It will not bring it back" saying these words Dream keeps his eyes on Connor. "The only way to find it should be... be able to travel in time"

• Connor freezes.

6. Karl's arrest

• Karl finds the resurrection book during one of his travels.

• He immediately plans to give it to Tommy, but when he comes back, someone is waiting for him in the library.

• "Well, look what the cat dragged in" Quackity stays still, his arms crossed, next to Connor and Sam. They all wear armours. "So it is true. That's a huge secret you have, Karl"

• The library behind them is destroyed. Books lie on floor ripped. They were looking for it.

• Karl puts the book of Necromancy back, his voice shaking as he realises Sapnap and George aren't there. "What are you doing here?" He asks, making eye contact with Connor, who quickly looks away, ashamed.

• "I'm sorry, Karl" he whispers "But Jschlatt is my friend"

• Quackity walks slowly towards him. "Give me the book, Karl". He has a creepy smile on his face. Is that even the same Quackity? This one looks different.

• "Quackity, you don't have to-"

• "Don't tell what I have to do. If you refuse, I might have to declare you under arrest"

• Karl holds the book tighter. If he gave him the book... no, he can't do that. For Tommy's sake, and for the rest of the server. If the book has the power to revive Wilbur... it must be destroyed. He grabs his sword, ready to fight.

• Quackity looks disappointed "You didn't give me another choice, man" he says, before killing him and taking the book from his inventory.

7. Dream and Karl

• Karl is later taken to the prison and put in Dream's cell.

• "Well, green boy, seems like you service is no longer required. However, I want to keep having fun with you. I'll revive Jschlatt, and then I'll execute you publicly. Enjoy your last hours: I got you company" Quackity leaves with a victory smile on his face.

• Dream looks horrible. He is covered in blood, his body painted by new scars. Karl has never seen him like this. His hearts are low and he hasn't eaten in days.

• Dream is the first one who speaks: "You found it".

• Karl freezes. What does that mean? "I though I had hidden it too well" he keeps saying, washing his blood away. "Maybe I should have really destroyed it"

• How cool would it be if Dream actually hid the book in the timeline? He couldn't burn it. Otherwise if he died no one would have revived him. So he just hid it where only Karl could find it.

• So yes, Dream knows Karl's power because he has a similar one. And yes, the prison was actually built for Karl (that's the only theory I care about).

• "We are not that different, Karl. Forgetting the people you love.. I know what it feels. I can help you controlling it. Have you reached the In between yet?"

• What if Dream is the one leaving Karl books and suggestions about his travels?

• They spend some time together and they surprisingly get along well. It's like someone finally understands.

8. Sapnap's lore

• Sapnap finds out Karl has been arrested, but he doesn't know why. He is angry.

• He faces Quackity who giggles. "Apparently there are a lot of things we don't know about Karl" but he doesn't tell him Karl's secret.

• Quackity and Sapnap break up (I won't ever be over Quackity's stream with El Rapid)

• Sapnap joins the children group. They are breaking into prison, right? He needs to save Karl.

9. Escape from Pandora's Vault

• Tommy, Tubbo, Ghostbur and Sapnap manage to break into Pandora's Vault when Sam and Quackity aren't online.

• When they arrive in Dream's cell, he is talking with Karl.

• Sapnap, horrified, takes Karl away from him. He doesn't trust Dream anymore, not after what he did to Tommy. He is sure it's his fault if Karl is here now.

• Dream can't help smiling when he sees the little party there. Especially when he sees his best friend Tommy. He tries to get closer.

• "I'm gonna kill you man. What the hell-" Sapnap punches Dream away. The anger and the resentment spread all over his body. They didn't deserve so much pain. Maybe the server will be a peaceful place without him. "You killed Tommy and then you gave Quackity the book- you"

• Karl stops him, defending Dream. "Sapnap, please. He didn't give them the book. I was the one who did".

• Everyone hold their breathe. What? Why? Wasn't it burned? How did you...

• "We need to get him out"

• Tommy grifts his teeth: "No way he is coming with us". He tries to grab his sword trembling and gagging, but it's too much. He can't... that place...

• Dream steps away. "Oh, you came to kill me" he whispers. "Do it. I'll be dead by tomorrow anyway"

• "You can't die yet!" Karl screams.

• "C'mon, Karl-"

• Dream smiles. "Don't forget who you are, Karl. And don't stray from the path. The SMP needs you more than you know" (= Dream is the one who leaves Karl notes about time travelling in the In Between :])

• "We don't have much time, guys"

• "Yeah, Tommy you don't have much time. Are you going to kill me? Or are you too afraid?" Dream starts teasing Tommy. "I bet you can't do it, right? You're too weak. And down deep you know you love me. We are best friends after all, aren't we?"

• Tommy doesn't react. He is as pale as a ghost, his eyes wide open.

• Tubbo steps in. He can't look at Tommy like this. He hates Dream so much. "Stay away from him". Looking back at his life, Dream has always been responsible for the bad things happened to him. The discs, L'Manburg, Tommy's exile, his death...

• Dream raises his eyebrows. "Tubbo, how's Ranboo?"

• It happens in a moment. Tubbo just loses control and kills Dream. Don't worry Dream's stans he'll come back one day. Bigger plans for that greenboy.

10. Resurrection

• They all run away.

• That same night Jschlatt is publicly revived. "¿Por dónde empezamos?"

• Quackity, Sam and Connor stay behind him.

• "Tonight our country has faced a loss. Four intruders entered the Pandora's Vault, killed Dream and helped the prisoner Karl Jacobs escape. Sapnap, Tubbo, Tommy and Ghostbur are now officially wanted. Dead or alive."

End of the season? Maybe?

How does the server react?

• Tommy, Tubbo, Sapnap, Ghostbur and Karl are criminals. They become nomads for a while. Samnook gives them an hand.

• Tommy keeps thinking about what Tubbo did. They really didn't talk about it after the break-out. Tubbo just pretends nothing happened.

• Karl and Sapnap aren't talking neither. And when they do they fight.

• The only happy one seems to be Ghostbur, who is excited to be on a vacation with the boys.

• Dream's ghost (Specdream? Nightmare?) appears to Ranboo, who is alone in a self-exile because he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Dream's ghost would be much more like Clay, so he won't be that dangerous like c/Dream (cfr. Ghostbur and Wilbur). But still it would be insane to see those two hanging out.

• Jschlatt and Quackity open their Casino, helped by Jack, who sells the hotel.

• After Dream's death and the destruction of Kinoko Kingdom, George takes Quackity's side. He is sure Sapnap killed Dream and he doesn't know how to feel about it...

• Philza, Techno, Eret and Niki, wanting Wilbur's return, will do the same (they need Ghostbur btw). Techno in particular will hunt the fugitives.

• Puffy and Fundy, contrary to them, will try to find Ranboo and the others in order to stop Jschlatt and Quackity.

• Wilbur and Dream meanwhile are having so much fun in the afterlife.

Even if solitaire is not chess