#at face value it really seems to pay for itself if you go more than like twice in a year which is surprising to me

[winemom-culture]

Me, kinda broke, looking at Disney passholder program options

[zafirosreverie]

Universe was too big for me to hold (Agatha x F!Reader)

The silence of the night was suddenly broken when a cry of pain ran through the entire place. Maybe it was a good thing that Westview was abandoned because if anyone had gone to find out what was going on, they would have been met with a not-so-pretty scene. Not that she cared, of course.

Agatha continued throwing all the objects that crossed her path, not caring about their value or provenance, and not even finding any comfort in seeing them smash against the wall, but it was okay, she wasn't doing it for comfort, she just needed to get out a deep pain and the rage that gnawed at her soul.

She had failed. 

She had failed so pathetically, so miserably, that just remembering it filled her with an intense, ancient rage that burned inside her as if fire, not blood, ran through her veins. Cursed the hour she had felt the power of chaos magic, cursed the moment she had tempted the scarlet witch, and cursed the second you had appeared out of nowhere.

You shouldn't have been there. You shouldn't have gone looking for her, she wasn't even sure you should have noticed her to begin with. She had always known that she was doomed to a life of solitude, to a life sentence of bitterness and hate. Love had not been created for her, because everything she touched got corrupted.

She had made peace with that years ago, she had resigned herself to the fact that her road was hers alone, without friendly stops or extra passengers. But then…then she met you, and you changed her entire life, turned her reality upside down, and broke every single one of her beliefs. You showed her that there was more than one way, and you planted in her the small hope that, perhaps, love could be named after her.

After living for more than three hundred years, there were many things that her mind had forgotten over time, things that had once been important to her but were now nothing more than a blur in her memory. But even if she lived a million more years, she could never forget the day you had entered her life, so pure and innocent, full of life and ready to love the creature that everyone feared, the being in which she had converted.

Agatha was no fool, she knew that her name had quickly become taboo after what she had done with her mother's coven, and it was not common for the few witches who recognized her to run away from her or try to kill her, the looks of ice, fear or hate were not foreign to her.

But you hadn't had any of that when you looked at her. In your eyes, there was nothing but almost childlike fascination, tenderness, emotion, and admiration, and your kind smile told her of a tentative promise, an illusion that was just beginning to take shape in the veil of time, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to your velvet arms.

Of course, she wasn't going to say that everything had been wonderful and smooth because she was Agatha Harkness and trouble was always around the corner, and on more than one occasion she was sure you would leave her, but you always had surprised her with your loyalty and infinite love towards her and you proved to her that no matter what you had to face for her, you would do it without a second thought.

Agatha found that complete surrender intriguing and inspiring, so she swore to you, to herself, and to the entire world that she would never give you less than the same devotion you had for her. And she had been able to do it for almost two hundred years. Then Wanda happened.

The brunette was not going to run away from her own fault, she knew that it was all because of her, that her mistakes had accumulated a huge debt that you had ended up paying. At some point in her history, she had believed her own legend, she had believed that she really was the most powerful magical being in the world and that she could challenge the universe itself.

Her ambition had been enormous, and eating the world didn't seem like enough for her, so she'd gone after this magic, this bloody red magic, as intoxicating and tempting in the imagination as it was dangerous in essence. She believed Wanda to be a clumsy, pathetic girl with no skills, a puppet that would be easy to manipulate at her whim, she believed that she had the perfect victim, and she entered the spider's web without suspecting it.

She was wrong. She miscalculated and messed with the one witch no one should ever piss off. Wanda had awesome power, greater than any magic the brunette had ever known, but she was unstable, too broken by a cruel life that wouldn't stop beating her down. The redhead was fighting the demons she had created herself, and Agatha had entered the game just as the bomb was about to go off. And she got burned.

Once upon a time, she had sworn to protect you from everything, she had sworn to fight the universe itself if necessary, but she had not been able to even win against a witch who did not know her own power, she had bitten off more than she could chew and the universe laughed at her.

She could never forget the day she met you, but that moment was now fighting in her mind against the horrible vision of seeing you appear in front of her, absorbing Wanda's final attack. Your laughter would be confused with the memory of your cries of pain and she would never be able to think of you again, without her chest aching. Because you were dead.

Your lifeless body had fallen in front of her, your lifeless eyes pierced her soul, your expression of pain would remain frozen in time, and your stopped heart turned off hers too. She didn't even feel when Wanda absorbed her magic, she could only see you, dead, gone.

She was alone now, condemned to wander a ghost town, without magic, without life, without love. Only with a broken heart and a debt with the stars.

______________

a/n: I’m not even going to say that I’m sorry :)

[noahschnappinfs]

I’ve been feeling conflicted. I know Noah doesn’t seem “evil” like most people believe but I can’t seem to forget that Instagram post and the “stickers” video from last year. I know he might have changed and learned from his mistake but people make you feel guilty by saying you don’t care about Palestinian lives if you don’t hate Noah. I fully support their freedom but I don’t believe sending hate or death threats to him is going to help them.

thank you so much for reaching out and telling me how you feel about noah. i think having proper conversations is important to understand everybody’s pov so I’m very glad i got this message.

now let’s do a little recap of what happened last year and as always i’ll try to give all the facts and be as honest as possible.

first, we got a statement after oct 7th which was prompted by noah, as a jewish man, feeling like he had to speak up against multiple jewish people being killed. to me, that’s totally an understandable reaction from him specially given that he had loved ones directly impacted by it. if we pay attention to the complete text instead of picking up fractions of his statement apart to twist them and make him seem as this evil genocide supporter, the main message was always noah wanting peace for everybody and not wanting people dying. afterwards, this statement caused backlash because the existence of israel in itself is controversial but what i want you to take away from his original statement is that he wants peace and seeing people dying is what provoked this really emotional reaction out of him.

next, let’s talk about the stickers situation. here’s some background: the tour guides he met in his previous trip israel were in town so they met up and visited a israeli restaurant in new york. contrary to what people online say, noah and these people didn’t make the stickers and weren’t giving them away on their own. in summary, a girl, the one standing with the stickers in the video, in the restaurant approached them and gave them the stickers. then, as seen in the video, the other people with noah were recording themselves with the stickers and you can see that noah didn’t even touch them and wasn’t doing anything other than also record what was happening, then he stopped and didn’t do anything else.

i have to agree that the stickers were in bad taste with everything going on and i understand certain level of backlash if we are missing the context and take the video as face value. i’d prefer it didn’t happen but to me the reaction was totally overblown with people wishing him to die over stickers that he didn’t make nor touch after watching a few seconds long video. we have a bit more of context now because in a private conversation (it being private means i’m not going to post it but i read it at the time so i have a bit more understanding of the situation now) that was later posted online with somebody who talked to him after it happened. there he explained what exactly happened that day, that he didn’t agree with the language in the stickers and he had nothing to do with them. he also wrote a statement he wanted to post explaining his thoughts which again are basically that he doesn’t agree with any violence and supports a peaceful solution to the war but his team told him to try to let it blow over and not say anything else about the topic.

then, we get to early this year with the video statement that he posted on tiktok. after months of noah and his loved ones being harassed online and even people wishing unspeakable things to happen to him, he decided to post another statement in order to explain himself and his actual point of view. to put it in plain words, he once again established that he wants a peaceful solution and that the death of innocent people shouldn’t happen. he also explained he’s had conversations with people to try to understand more deeply what is doing on.

after that, he basically left social media for a few months and had a low profile for a while which is totally understandable considering how unbearable the hate towards him online is. to this day, people don’t want to believe him but to be honest, his message has always been consistent with not wanting innocent people dying. more recently, he posted on letterbox a review on a movie called munich and again, he highlighted how bad war is and how he prays that the violence stops, he also highlighted the innocent israelis and palestinians that have died in the ongoing war. his review was a totally understandable message advocating for peace but he deleted it the next day because i guess he doesn’t want to revisit this topic ever again, it’s not like people will believe him anyway.

i think we can all agree that we all want a peaceful solution and would like the deaths to stop as soon as possible, that’s exactly how noah feels, he’s not this evil mastermind that people portray online. i appreciate you for saying that noah getting hated on doesn’t solve anything because let’s be for real, noah could drop dead tomorrow and the violence would be still happening. at this point it’s just people online being cruel and enjoying playing mean girls online, people who truly advocate for palestine should be doing way more meaning work than hating on a teenager. i also hope you can take this info and make your own decisions, i don’t think following the mob is the right thing and i can assure you liking noah doesn’t mean you hate palestinians

[cosmicjoke]

hi! i really like your account and all your levi-focused analyses. i think this might be a weird question, but i'm sorta trying to make a similar blog, it's just i've very little experience analyzing mangas/comics. it's a bit different from books of prose, obviously. again, sorry if this is weird, but is there any stray advice u can give for analyzing comics?

Hi there, and first of all, thank you so much! I really appreciate that! I don't consider myself particularly good at analysis or meta commentary or anything like that. I literally just vomit my thoughts out and most of the time, it comes out extremely long-winded and tedious, I think, lol. I tend to be very unorganized with my thoughts, and writing them down helps me get a better grasp of what it is, specifically, I'm trying to say.

But I'll do my best here. My main advice for analyzing comics/manga would be to remember that it's a visual medium, and thus, the images carry just as much importance and weight in figuring out what's going on and what's being conveyed as the text itself, and sometimes, even more so. You have limited space for writing in comics/manga, so the author/artist needs to be able to convey a lot through the art alone. So just because something isn't put into explicit text, doesn't mean it isn't being implied or outright stated by the images themselves. Levi is a good example of this, I think, because he doesn't say a lot, and what he does say often comes out sounding rude or callous or aloof, like he doesn't care. And yet it's obvious to everyone with a functioning brain that Levi cares more than anyone. And the reason it's so obvious is, for one, his actions belie his seeming stoicism, with how hard he tries to help people and save lives, and the other reason is his expressions. While Levi often wears a flat expression, there are moments when what he's really feeling bleeds through, and it might as well be a blaring, neon sign declaring that, despite his usually stoic facade, he actually feels things more keenly than anyone else. You have to pay attention to the panels and what the art is telling you, just as much as what the text is. Often, the text can only be understood through the art. You have to interpret them together, I think, to come away with an accurate and objective understanding of the story and the characters.

Basically, a lot of subtext can be hidden in comics/manga, just like in prose writing, but a lot of it is often conveyed through imagery. And just like with prose, context matters. What came before matters. What comes after matters. You have to factor all these things in in order to form a full impression and understanding of the story you're reading. Like a character's motivation, what's driving them, can later be recontextualized based on a later event or action on their part, etc... The same for plot elements and so on. Like take Eren, for example, and the absolutely insane expressions he pulls very early on in the story, when he's in his titan form and killing other titans, etc... Eren looks mad, and that tells you something about his character. He acts a certain way most of the time, acts like he's concerned for his friends, that they're his priority, etc... but it's those moments of obsessive bloodlust that reveals the true nature of Eren's character. He's driven by a desire to commit acts of violence and destruction, and he gets lost in that desire. That's who Eren really is. The way Isayama draws that madness on Eren's face is in itself enough to tell you what sort of person Eren actually is, and helps you to better understand what it is he later does.

Anyway, I hope that helped. Again, I'm no sort of expert analyzer or anything, lol. I just get passionate about these things and I write super long posts as a result. But thank you so much for finding anything of value in what I do write. I honestly never think anyone will.

[spewagepipe]

Plumbing the Depths: Mothership's (Lack of) Stealth Mechanics, part 2

I promise this one isn't going to turn into a big multi-part series, but I do need a little more space to articulate the answer to yesterday's question: why did Sean McCoy publish Mothership, even though the design objectively failed to deliver on his vision for stealth gameplay?

If we completely ignore the first six tweets of the thread, where McCoy lovingly describes that vision, and take only the final tweet at face value, then we can infer a different design goal: how stealth actually works is not important, all that matters is that each GM is forced to thoughtfully consider how it should be implemented at their own table. That seems to be supported by the example in the Mothership Warden's Operations Manual, where McCoy shows an example group debating the options.

The problem is, this is a huge, vital design choice, and one that is very easy to get wrong!

Consider for instance that McCoy's vision of stealth eliminates the element of chance, and instead directly tests the player's real-life problem-solving skills. If you were really there, could you find a good hiding place? If it works well, the unity between the character's decision-making process and the player's decision-making process can heighten a player's sense of immersion, and it also means that hiding successfully constitutes a genuine accomplishment on the player's part (not just a matter of luck).

But what about players who don't have the real-life skills to measure up? They end up with characters who share that same weakness. It can be immersion-breaking in itself for a badass special-ops marine to end up having the same aptitude for stealth as an average tabletop gamer.

This is an example of two mutually exclusive design goals. Except in cases where the players are playing as "self-insert" characters, it isn't possible to test the player's real-life skills at the same time that you are paying off their character's (fictional) skills – as the designer, you have to compromise. You can deliver fully on goal at the expense of abandoning the other, and in that case the players and GMs who share the chosen goal will love your game (and those who don't will hate it). You could also try to find a middle ground, but there, the devil is in the details: you might be able to satisfy some people from both camps, or you might end up disappointing everyone if you mishandle it.

McCoy's solution to this tricky problem was, essentially, to abandon his job as a game designer. Rather than use his expertise and commit to the choice that he believed would be best, he just published an incomplete game and foisted that incredibly high-stakes problem on the individual GMs. As an added bonus, when some GMs (having no game design expertise whatsoever) inevitably make the wrong call and end up ruining their games of Mothership, McCoy can simply pretend that it's all their fault. It's their table – they ought to know best, right?

[firespirited]

From yesterday. She loves to sit on the bench like a human and watch the world go by.

Today I got pretty sick so I'm going to have to not do much for the next few days let alone go out (the purpura are intense, I look like I took a spitting pan of grease to the face or measles or something. Also strained the neck injury which is visibly swollen and mighty sore)

I've listed the 9 vintage heads as a bundle and the Monster High bait on ebay (saffyruth)

but so long as there are no bids any dollblr folks can have the vintage head bundle for 8$ (aka free with tracked postage bubble envelope worldwide) or a $30 (aka the price of a kilo) box of dolls: monsters, various barbie/disney, stretch fabrics, fun yarn scraps for reroots, assorted accessories... (see suppi.net/bratz/recap.php for headshots) I'd be delighted to put together a custom package instead of listing stuff on ebay. If you're in the EU, 11€ for 3kilos of assorted doll junk. I'll empty the various drawers on to my bed: take photos and you can pick and choose.

Other stuff on ebay is available to be *added* to a just pay postage box, it's priced by how much it cost and the amount of work involved (glue treatments, bleaching and whatnot). I don't allow haggling once I've settled on an "ebay acceptable" price because the worth in time/effort and my minimum reveals itself. I know, the rules are weird. 😅 Reroots became more precious once I couldn't replicate that again, like sentimental value, I hope that makes sense.

Haven't posted much, had a lot to say but wasn't sure it was appropriate or would be properly understood. Not wording great lately. Having to do an overview of 2023 brought up some really interesting things about what I value and collect that need to be worded in a way that can't be misconstrued "so you hate waffles?"-style.

I've been grieving somewhat for a while and, well, it seems like everyone is going through it, so why add to dash sadness (at a time like this too)? But also had a bittersweet healing moment with mum and got to know my sister a little better as she's been coming on dog walks (Talia is hers, well it's more like she is Talias: chihuahuas bond to their chosen human, it's quite astonishing to witness) and my old lady-baby Lily is in better shape than ever. And some pondering about what kind of hobbyist I'd like to be if I can't use my arms again much this year (arm movements also include photos, editing and typing)

Ok off to sleep, see you in 12-14h. Love to all and special thoughts to everyone I'm seeing having a rough time of it. PS: Dms or emails re "doll clear out" will work much better than replies/reblogs.

[draguta]

.just the way you are | nine.

pairing: dbf!bucky x fem!reader

summary: back home in brooklyn, job lost, dumped, unable to pay rent, and utterly ashamed of yourself. of course your dad had offered out your childhood bedroom, but what happens when you bump into his best friend once again, this time no longer the teenager that you were when you left?

chapter word count: 3172

series warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, age gap (reader 24, bucky 39)

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Y/N

You couldn’t pull yourself out of bed that day. It was a Sunday, the day that had once been your favourite, yet that day felt empty, cold. It was sunny outside, but the warmth of the sun didn’t seem to infiltrate the thin curtains that hung from the window. You weren’t sure what time it was when you woke up, and if you were being honest you didn’t really care. The bed beside you where he usually lay, cracking jokes and wrapping his arms tightly around you, protecting you and comforting you, was empty. It felt wrong, as if everything in the world had shifted slightly. You just wanted everything to go back to the way that it was.

You stayed there for hours curled up under the blanket, pretending that your duvet was Bucky’s body, that your oversized sweater was his arms. Buck the moose and Jamie the duck were tucked under your chin, and you simply stared at the wall, at the empty space beside you where he was meant to be, wiping your tears on your pillow, replaying each moment of your relationship with Bucky over and over in your head, as if it were a supercut of everything that had made the two of you together so magical.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

His gentle tone eased itself into your subconscious, pulling you from your dream and back to reality. You groaned, rolling over onto your back, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned, and blinking your eyes open as you gave them a minute to adjust to the morning light. It was a Sunday morning, and you knew that you had heard Bucky’s voice, but as you reached out for him you found the bed beside you empty, yet still warm. Slowly rubbing your eyes, you sat up against the headboard, coming face-to-face with a smiling Bucky Barnes, cross-legged in the middle of your bed, beaming down at you contently. On the blanket in front of him was a tray holding two plates of breakfast, omelettes and toast with bacon, and two little bowls of yoghurt. Next to the plates was a cup of hot, black coffee in your favourite mug, and one that had the little panda on the front. Bucky’s own coffee was nestled comfortably in his palm.

“You made me breakfast?” You grinned as you sat up straight, reaching for the coffee and taking a sip, allowing the bitter heat to float over your tongue. “Thank you baby. You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s really nothing,” he shrugged, grabbing a bite of toast. “Besides, you deserve it.”

You snorted, raising your eyebrows at him and shaking your head. “Deserve it for what? Being unemployed? Living with my dad? I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it.”

Bucky shuffled forward on the mattress, closer to you, linking his fingers with your own.

“You know I don’t care about those things. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. You’re perfect, just the way you are.” Bucky shuffled forward on the mattress, closer to you, linking his fingers with your own. “Besides, after what you did in bed last night, I’d say you more than deserve breakfast at least.”

Without thinking, you stuck your finger in the yoghurt and flung it forwards, swiping it down the side of his face with an evil chuckle. Bucky’s jaw dropped open in shock, but a moment later a cough of laughter erupted, and he followed suit, yoghurt being wiped across your cheek.

After only a moment, the pair of you fell into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s body enveloping your own, a perfect little bubble of happiness contained inside that bedroom.

You choked down a sob at the memory, muffling a frustrated cry into your pillow as you tried to push away the thought, your own mind betraying you.

Your dad popped his head around your bedroom door a little while later, awkwardly hovering at your doorway as if he were unsure whether or not to interfere. However, eventually he made the decision to wander inside, perching on the edge of your mattress.

“I know it’s hard, honey, but you can come back anytime you want,” he said, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “Your room is still going to be here, and so am I.”

It made sense that your dad would assume that you were simply upset about leaving Brooklyn, after all, he didn’t know about you and Bucky. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t the city that you were going to miss and it wasn’t the thought of leaving your dad’s house that made your heart ache.

“It won’t be the same,” you mumbled into your pillow. He sighed, patting your shoulder gently.

“Can I ask you something? And you promise that you’re going to be honest with me?” You glanced up at him, nodding carefully as you wiped away a stray tear. “Is there something else going on?”

You paused, taking in the concern written across his features. “What do you mean?”

“In the time you’ve been back here, I’ve seen you become happier everyday. It’s like something changed, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it,” he explained with a gentle frown, one that conveyed less anger and more worry. “But this - I’ve never seen you like this before. You haven’t gotten out of bed all day. I’m worried about you. Did something else happen?”

You wanted to tell him, you were so close to telling him everything. But you knew that he wouldn’t understand, not if it was Bucky. You knew your dad like the back of your hand, and therefore you knew how betrayed he would feel. Perhaps not by you, but by Bucky for certain.

“Does this have anything to do with the boy you’ve been seeing?”

Your eyes widened at his question, sitting completely upright in bed, pulling your sleeves over your hands and playing with the hem of your sweater. “H-How did you know about that?”

“You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking someone in here after I’ve gone to bed?” He chuckled, shaking his head, holding his hands up in the air in mock defeat. “I don’t know why you never introduced me to him before. You know I just want you to be happy, and this boy, whoever he is, seems to do that.”

“H-He does. He makes me so happy,” you sniffled. “But I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving tomorrow, and he’s staying here. How am I supposed to do this without him?”

The corners of your dad’s mouth curled up into a sympathetic smile. “You know, sometimes change isn’t a bad thing,” he noted. “When your mother died, I really thought that I would never be happy again. But after a while I realised that just because things were different, that didn’t mean that they were bad. I still had the memories that we shared together, and those are something that I cherish, but now I make new memories, and just because your mother isn’t there to share them with me, that doesn’t make them any less important.”

“I appreciate that, dad,” you smiled sadly, reaching forward to squeeze his hand. “But I don’t think it’s really the same.”

“I know, honey,” he replied. “All I mean is, don’t let your sadness over a loss stop you from enjoying the rest of your life. If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.”

You knew he hadn’t meant to, but at his final words a stabbing pain radiated through your chest, one which you tried desperately to ignore as he rose to his feet, planting a quick kiss on the top of your head before moving towards the door. He paused for a moment, turning on his heel to look back at you.

“By the way, I invited some of your friends over tomorrow to see you off to the airport,” he smiled. He took in the groan that escaped your lips before continuing through a chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’ll just be something small.”

And with that he was gone, and you were left wondering whether or not you would have to sit through a farewell party the next day with your ex-boyfriend present.

Bucky

For some reason that Bucky couldn’t quite work out, his apartment seemed quieter that day, emptier. There was a devastating silence that seeped into the cracks between the bricks of his apartment, the dark corners of every room. It was a silence that had once been filled by her laughter, by her gentle hums against quiet music whilst she made coffee, by her moans throughout the night. Yet now it was silent, even if everything in that apartment that had once reminded him of her now held no memories.

The shirt that she had borrowed.

He slipped through the door to his bedroom, leaving her sitting on the couch in the living room alone, just a doorway away. He closed the door, leaving it open just a crack so that he could see her looking around his apartment, taking it in with the same wonderment that she always seemed to hold, even if she didn’t realise that she possessed that magic, yet it was one of his favourite charms of hers. Quickly, he grabbed a shirt from his top-draw and folded it in his arms, taking a deep breath before slipping back out, tossing the shirt in her direction.

Now just a shirt.

The couch in the living room.

She fell asleep almost moments after the movie began, curled up on the couch, wrapped in a woollen blanket, but Bucky didn’t mind, even if ‘Vertigo’ was one of his favourite movies. There would always be another chance to watch it again, but if ignoring the movie meant that he could snuggle down on the couch beside you, your head on his chest, your breath fanning against his skin, then it was worth it.

Now just a couch.

The coffee mug on the stand.

He knew that she’d be happy to see that he had bought her a brand-new mug, completely identical to the one that she had at home, so that she could always have her favourite mug no matter where the two of them decided to stay each night, but he could never have predicted the ecstatic grin that spread across her face at the sight of it, nor the way she leaped into his arms without a moment’s hesitation to plant 1000 little kisses across his face and neck, a sign that he had succeeded in making her happy.

Now just a mug.

He found himself moving from one spot of his apartment to another with no real purpose. He wanted to call her, to tell her that he had changed his mind, that they could work it out and that everything would be ok; that they would be ok. But he knew he couldn’t. She was leaving, and he was staying, and there was nothing that could make that situation simpler. So, he tried to distract himself as best he could. He tried to read, but couldn’t focus on the words. He tried to watch TV but found himself disinterested in anything playing. He thought of getting some work done, but realised that would mean calling her dad, and he couldn’t bring himself to dial the number. Every attempt that he made to drown out the need to call her was fruitless, and so the thoughts of her simply consumed him.

He stared out of the window, out across the city, counting the cars that passed by, reliving the moment that he lost her over and over in his mind until he could no longer fight the urge. Grabbing his bag, he slipped his shoes on and headed out into the city silently, knowing his destination but not his motivation.

Y/N

The day dragged onwards into night, the sun guiding the city into the darkness, greeting the rising moon as an old friend. Yet still, there you remained, curled up in bed, certain that you would never leave the comfort that it provided again. The sounds of your dad pottering around downstairs echoed up towards your room, and you knew that he was likely preparing for the party that you had never asked for. He was leaving you alone, at the very least, and for that you were thankful.

It was around 11:10pm when your phone vibrated on your bedside table. Your dad had long-since retreated to his own room, and the house fell into silence, besides the vibration of your phone as the message came through. With a groan you grabbed it and pulled it towards you, but once you saw who the message was from you sat bolt upright, eyes widening as they trailed over the name. Bucky.

Bucky: Meet me in the treehouse.

You could remember a time before that where you had moved so quickly, so swiftly, as you leaped from under your covers and descended the stairs at an almost two-at-a-time pace. Slipping through the back patio door and into the garden, you glanced up at the treehouse; a golden glow from the little lamp that you knew sat inside was already seeping through the open window. You clambered up the ladder and pushed your way through the trap door.

There Bucky sat, on the old bean-bag in the corner, and you noticed three things in a matter of seconds.

Firstly, his clothes were mix-matched. A pair of grey sweatpants paired with an old red sweater, a pair of pristine white sneakers donning his feet, and a thick black trench coat wrapped around his body. It seemed almost as if he had grabbed the first items of clothing that he could find and simply threw them on, not caring if it looked ok.

Secondly, you noted the dark bags under his eyes, and the droop of his eyelids, suggesting that perhaps he too, much like yourself, had only had a small amount of sleep the night before. A pang of guilt rang through your body, not at his sleepless night, but at the fleeting hope that you had been the cause.

Finally, you took in the way that he was looking at you. The way that his eyes remained trained on you, filled with sadness, the blue of his irises now a dull grey. But there was something else hidden in there, his pupils wide and dark, black pools in a mass of grey cloud. That was something that you couldn’t quite place, couldn’t quite work out.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” You asked quietly, taking a hesitant step forward, unsure of what the boundaries were now that you were no longer together.

“Yesterday you said something,” he replied, voice low and rough. “One more kiss. One more night together.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he slowly rose to his feet, taking a step towards you, and then another, until he was stood right in front of you, his breath fanning against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed as his hands came up to your elbows; it felt so familiar, as if you were being welcomed home.

“Let me give that to you,” he continued. “Please.”

A small whimper escaped your lips, and he took that as his answer, smashing his lips against yours, his familiar taste engulfing you, minty and sweet at the same time. His tongue traced a line across your bottom lip, and you allowed him entrance in a second as his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, your own fingers tugging gently at his hair. He lifted you with ease, laying you down against the wooden boards of the treehouse’s floor, the pillows and blankets that were strewn there offering you a small amount of comfort against the splintering wood.

A hand trailed up under your shirt, pulling it over your head as your bodies separated for a second, joining together once more as the passion began to take over. Bucky’s own jacket and shirt were quickly lost as he began to grind his hips against you, long and hard against you, a sign of how ready he was to take you once again, one final time.

As if by its own accord, your hand slid between your bodies, under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him in your palm, stroking him slowly, calculatedly, knowing exactly what to do to bring him the most pleasure possible. It only took a few strokes of your hand up and down his length for him to give it.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, pulling away from you quickly, sliding his sweatpants down his thighs and all but ripping your shorts from your body, leaving you both exposed in the chill of the night. Eyes were trained on each other as he rubbed his tip through your folds, bringing your back to an arch against the floor.

“Bucky, please,” you whimpered, one leg wrapping around his hip and pulling him closer to you.

“Because you asked so nicely.” He slid into you slowly, the moans from both of your lips echoing around the old treehouse. He rolled his hips, and you could all but feel every nerve in your body vibrating with pleasure. It was slow, romantic, passionate, and beyond intimate, everything that your relationship had been crashing together in that one moment; a goodbye that was filled with sorrow and regret, but also seemed so perfect.

He thrust harder and your eyes all but rolled back into your head as he hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His lips came down to your chest, sloppy kisses planted against sweat slicken skin.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin as he sucked at the spot at the base of your throat, a mark that would likely remain to remind you of this night for days to come. “One last time, I know you can do it.”

He slipped a hand between you, sliding down past your stomach and latching onto that spot between your legs that caused you to gasp loudly into the night as he rubbed quick, unrelenting circles. It washed over you body, tingling from your toes to the very pit of your stomach, down to your fingertips, every inch of your body filled with a bliss that you knew would never be recreated by another person again; this was Bucky, and no one would ever be able to make you feel like this except him.

He followed you moments later, his body collapsing against you as he finished deep inside you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he gasped against your neck as he finished, his head coming to rest on your chest. One stray tear slipped from your eyes as you stared up through the window in the roof, up at the moon and stars as they gleamed down at you, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulders.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

[tobiasdrake]

What do you think happened exactly in the intro of V3 when their memories weren't downloaded right? Cus they would have known they signed up for danganronpa, right? So why did only Rantaro have any ideas about what was going on?

Not necessarily. Going off the fact that the audition tapes are, well, "auditions", there were probably a lot of people who auditioned for the show most of whom would not make the cut. This was a casting call, and most people who respond to a casting call get the Better Luck Next Time.

I tend to take the Monokubs' fuck-ups at face value. There is an interpretation of them where they were secretly fucking up on purpose as part of Tsumugi's 4-D chess game where every single line and every single choice and every single reaction was pre-scripted in advance.

And. Like. That is a valid interpretation of V3. It's just not my interpretation. I think the Monokubs are sincerely a bunch of useless fuck-ups and left Tsumugi pulling her hair out. They're more fun that way.

There's a lot of stuff in the prologue that's really interesting when you go into it with the lens of who these kids really are.

Like. Kaede's personality in particular is really interesting because she sincerely is the misanthrope that her audition tape would later reveal her to be.

So, everyone auditioned for a new season of Danganronpa and then, some amount of time later, sixteen candidates were selected to be the ones. A reasonable person might send out letters or make a phone call or shoot them an email to go "HEY YOU'RE SELECTED" but Danganronpa being Danganronpa, Tsumugi had more thematically appropriate ideas for how to make her job offers.

This was probably like weeks or months after her audition. Nobody was wearing Danganronpa 53 crew shirts, nobody said "You're hired, let's go shoot Danganronpa 53." She auditioned for the show, a bunch of time passed, and then one day a bunch of people kidnapped her.

Shuichi testifies to the same.

It seems like this is just Standard Practice for the new season's hiring policy.

As they continue talking, it's clear that Kaede thinks she was. Like. Sincerely kidnapped for kidnapping reasons.

She's not really thinking about TV shows right now. She's thinking about how scary and dangerous it is to be kidnapped by strange men and isolated in a mysterious location.

And this does not help.

That is not a brand-recognizable mascot. That is a war mech here to commit violence.

Which is, itself, another one of the Monokubs' fuck-ups.

It's exclamations like "I told you we should have read the script" that make me want to take the Monokubs at face value. If you pay attention to the shit coming out of their mouths, they are actually super bad at hiding the fact that this is a TV show and it's hilarious every time.

It's easy to overlook the first time you play as just Goofy Monokuma Stuff, but Goofy Monokuma Stuff always means something. And with the Monokubs, lines like "We should have read the script" mean... that there was a script, and they didn't read it. The big subversion with the Monokubs is that there is no hidden meaning, they're just fucking dumbasses saying things they aren't supposed to say on-camera. XD

In any case....

A fun thing to note is how completely out-of-place Tsumugi honestly looks here if you're looking for it. Like, she is wearing the most bog-standard anime seifuku. Everyone else is here in a variety of interesting designs but Tsumugi's somewhere between Sailor Mercury and Haruhi Suzumiya.

Among all the more complicated getups, she's giving off mad

energy. But, again, only if you already know to look for it. It's subtle. Keebo, Kokichi, and Gonta's outfits aren't any more complicated than hers.

Once they arrive, it's indeed Rantaro who first starts to clue in. "Oh, shit, this is the Danganronpa we signed up for."

The rest of the kids are slow on the uptake, but Kaede does start to figure things out too.

She recognizes "Monokub" as a derivative of Monokuma and keeps trying to clarify that point, but they cut her off before she can ask.

At this point, she's not so much confused about what this is as she is confused about. Like. What she's supposed to do here.

The Monokubs have fucked up so bad that Kaede's just lost in the plot. She reacts as if she knows what an Ultimate Talent is and what it's meant to signify. But she answers honestly that she doesn't have one.

No one else seems confused by what an Ultimate Talent is either.

This room of Danganronpa nerds are all familiar with the concepts. They're standing in what is now clearly a Danganronpa building talking to Danganronpa characters but they aren't. The characters. Even though they're being treated like they are. What do you even say or do here?

Monosuke, to his credit, attempts to salvage this 'cause the cameras are rolling, we're live, and we need an explanation for what the audience is seeing onscreen.

Nicely improvised, Monosuke. Monotaro is less good at this.

"According to the backstory" are actual words that leave his robot bear lips when attempting to whitewash over this flub with a lore-dump. I still can't get over that. This is one of my favorite Monokub lines.

Then, from here, they dress the kids up in costumes, knock them out, program their characters in like they were supposed to from the start, and then take a mulligan on the first act of the show.

I do think this was sincerely a screw-up, and I also think they all did gradually start to realize "Oh shit, this is the Danganronpa show." But for the sake of not giving the twist away to the player, they aren't able to be super obvious about it.

[lordisitmine]

TTNBD BLOG PART FIVE

Covers chapters five and six of Though the Night Be Dark

These two chapters were originally supposed to be one, but I split them so I could keep the posting going faster and because the scenes shook out into two neater separate sections. But I’m doing the commentary together because my brain still has them linked.

CHAPTER FIVE: HOMECOMING

Back at it again with the Abberline POV. I started using his perspective for situational observations in TTEOE and got a little addicted to it tbh… I love a good outsider POV. Something about a character who has no idea the true gravity of the situation seeing bits and pieces of the main character’s story- delicious.

Nice day for a funeral. I’ve actually never been to a funeral in the wintertime, but Abberline’s observations about death seeming more natural during the colder months are in line with my own thoughts. When the earth is slumbering, and the trees are feigning death until spring, death itself seems less absurd, if not any less saddening.

I had a ball writing Francis Midford in this scene. As we know, she’s usually very calm, bordering on cold- a level-headed somewhat stern woman who isn’t at all prone to wild displays of emotion. However, all bets are off when one has lost a child. They say it’s the worst kind of grief a person can experience. I think that warrants an outburst or two.

Of course, it’s not Abberline’s fault, what happened to Edward- and Francis knows that too- but anger is natural, of course, and I just like a good shocking slap across the face moment. Too bad it was at Abberline’s expense. He blames himself, even though he shouldn’t, and Francis’s whole freak-out certainly hasn’t helped. Thankfully, Lizzy is much more reasonable. Probably because she knows a little bit more about the situation than her mother does, though she’s not ready to share that information with anyone just yet- except maybe Sybil.

Poor Abberline will have to remain in the dark for a little while longer, it seems.

Back to the boys- coming ‘home’. It’s not really home anymore. I don’t think Ciel ever had a home, at least not one that was a place. He thinks it himself- that Sebastian is more of a home to him than anyone or anywhere or anything else. They’re two halves of a whole.

Sebastian reverting back to butler mode and taking care of everything when he can sense that Ciel is uncomfortable or overwhelmed has been checked off the sebaciel bingo- I have a running mental list of tropes and lines that I want to write for them, and this was one of them.

I’ve read some really great fics where their dynamic is so much more hostile and yet equally as romantic- I might try my hand at it some day. I know the way I write Sebastian and Ciel may seem out of character to some, but I really can’t stop, and I won’t apologise for it! I trust my gut and if I can hear the words in the character’s voice, I’ll write them. I can’t resist the idea that Sebastian is only really capable of genuine love and tenderness when it comes to Ciel and no one else 🥹

Time for my favourite scene in this chapter! It’s Benjamin the paper boy! Have you ever seen Newsies? The Disney musical about newsboys in 1890’s New York? You should, it’s a cute little story about kids unionizing to fight the corporate man and get better pay for their work *insert long rambling talk about socialism and how I love it so much*. ANYWAY, I needed a minor character for plot reasons, and a newsboy seemed like a perfect fit. And it gave me an excuse to write Sebastian and Ciel interacting with a kid, which I love, for some reason.

(source)

I had to learn about how money worked in Victorian England. Well, I didn’t have to, I could have just bullshitted the few lines about them bribing the kid, but I wanted to have a tangible sense of how much money was actually worth and how the pound breaks down into shillings, sovereigns and guineas etc. I hope all the values work out and make sense because Holy Shit is this the most insane way to break down money. It hurt my head just thinking about it. Not to sound American (I’m not even American) but I’ll stick the good old 21st century 100 cent dollar, thank you very much 🤣

More cutesy stuff in the hotel- I’m writing this in April, four months after the chapter was written, and reading it back for the first time in quite a while is fun. I was giggling at my own writing lol. I love these two so much. It’s a problem.

Poor Lizzy!!! Thinking Ciel died for nothing when he didn’t actually die at all. Imagine basing your entire grieving process on a lie. Oof. It’s gonna be one Hell of a shock for her when she finds out she’s spent the last four years operating on false assumptions.

Thankfully, she has Sybil, who has some secrets and false assumptions of her own.

And last but not least, the meeting of the Evil Dudes. These scenes are so hard to write because I don’t want to describe characters too vividly or put names to any of them, it’s like building a model plane or something, you have to be very intentional and delicate about what pieces (words) you use and where you put them. All of writing is like that, to an extent, except for those moments when it flows super smoothly, but even then you have to be deliberate with your editing. Writing is hard work! I love it so much, though.

CHAPTER SIX: DESPERATE TIMES

Let’s talk briefly about Frederick Abberline!

A portrait of Frederick Abberline, 1885. (Wikipedia)

Fredderick Abberline, as you may or may not have known, was a real historical figure! He was born in 1843, which would make him about fifty-seven at the time of TTNBD. That’s not how I picture him at all, of course, because in the Kuroshitsuji anime he’s depicted as a much younger man than he would have been at the time, as he often is in film and television shows.

I choose to keep a slightly aged version of the anime Abberline in mind when writing, but I like to think of him as having some variation of the facial hair that he does in the picture above- such an undeniably Victorian mustache. And I think with his promotion he wouldn’t want people to think of him as being so young, and he has such a little boy face without it 😌😆

Abberline is of course most famous for his work as the lead detective on the Jack the Ripper case, which is why he’s usually featured as a character in television shows/movies about the Ripper. Though the Ripper was never caught, Abberline was known to have many theories in his time on the case, including the idea that the killer might actually be a woman. *side-eyes Madame Red* 👀

The real Fredderick Abberline was married twice in his lifetime- he married his first wife, Martha Mackness, in March of 1868, though she died of tuberculosis two months after the wedding. Then, in 1876, he married Emma Beament. They were married for over fifty years until his death in 1929 at age 86. Emma died three months after he did, and was buried with him at Wimborne Road Cemetery, in Bournemouth, England. They never had any children.

His grave is marked by a headstone erected in 2007, and I think it’d be neat to visit his grave some day, if I ever get the chance to go to the United Kingdom (it’s at the top of my list of places I want to go).

I’ve referenced Abberline’s personal life a couple of times- he mentioned Emma in his diary entry back in chapter one, and it’s walked about how he likes to spend mornings with her on the weekend. Obviously, not much is known about the details of the real man’s personal relationships, but I like to think he and his wife loved each other very much, because there’s no evidence to the contrary and it hurts no one for me to believe that. Abberline works hard and he’s a good guy, he deserves happiness.

Quite rude, then, for someone to make him get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday to solve a murder. Even worse, Alois and Claude are here! So we get some more wonderful outsider observations from Abberline, and he of course can’t help but compare their dynamic to Ciel and Sebastian’s, which means I get to vicariously get to wax poetic about my thoughts on the matter.

Meanwhile, Sebastian and Ciel are perched on a rooftop, quite literally eavesdropping. Imagine their surprise when a young lord shows up- with his demon butler in tow.

Ciel: That bitch stole our look!

Sebastian: We wore it better.

😂😆

Unfortunately, Ciel decided he was going to follow Claude and Alois around- but he isn’t as good at staying hidden as Sebastian is- he doesn’t have the experience, and I personally think he doesn’t have the same affinity with the shadows that Sebastian does- so Claude catches his scent rather quickly.

And Claude is a thirsty hoe. It makes my skin crawl, writing the things he thinks about Ciel. But that will make his inevitable demise all the more satisfying, I hope. I took his obsession with Ciel straight from the anime and just cranked it up to ten. I don’t know if everyone reading this story has seen season two- I know a lot of people don’t like the liberties it took with canon. Alois and Claude are characters completely made for the anime, and I think that makes them perfect to muck around with. There’s so much less established canon for them, I can just chop and screw and remix it however I want. It’s a fic writer’s dream.

After finishing To the End of Everything, and describing Ciel’s grave, I realised that as a member of the nobility, it’s more likely he would have been buried in a mausoleum, a stone building with niches in the walls for the caskets of the dead, where members of one family are interred. But I had the idea for Ciel’s tombstone and the engraving on it from the time I first decided to write TTEOE, so I wouldn’t change it even if I could.

And maybe an in-universe reason for it was that Ciel had decided to do things differently, maybe putting in his will for him to be buried like that was a final act of rebellion. And in the end, there was no body there anyway. Humans and they death rituals, putting markers on empty graves. I find it fascinating.

Changing topics: one thing that I hade to get used to was Sebastian calling Ciel by his first name. you’ll notice he doesn’t do it super often. He can’t call Ciel my lord or sir anymore. I mean he could, but that would be worse in my mind. He’s not really Ciel’s servant anymore. But I have Sebastian use Ciel’s name sparingly. Partially because it still feels a little weird and because I find it WAY more likely that Sebastian would be hitting Ciel with the terms of endearment, which you’ll notice I have him to constantly. A: because he loves Ciel and is stupid about it and B: because even though Ciel is used to it, and even likes it, it probably does still annoy him Just A Little, and that’s also too tempting for Sebastian to pass up.

Sebastian is no stranger to committing crimes in service of Ciel’s investigations- now he’s going around stealing records from the government, which is probably the least of his illegal actions. The Public Record Office is a real place, and in 1900 it was indeed located in Chancery Lane, in London. It was established in 1838 to house and catalogue all kinds of court/government archives, documents, things like that. I don’t think it had any archive specifically for newspapers, but let’s just all collectively pretend it did.

“I can’t believe I married a criminal” will forever be one of my favourite lines to ever have written. Ciel’s romantic side is very suppressed, but it’s there, so the times when I get to make him verbally reference Sebastian as his lover, husband, mate- those are particularly sweet to me. Even if he does immediately follow up by calling Sebastian a dog and a scoundrel, which, to be fair, are also accurate things to call him.

Writing a sex scene is the most intensive part of the craft for me. The thing I spoke about earlier, about being surgical and methodical in word choice and grammar- that’s dialled up to eleven when I’m writing a sex scene. So sometimes I fade to black. Although, that can be nice too- leaving things to the imagination. Also, it means I have the option to come back some day and write them out huehuehue 😏😌😉

I have never attended a séance. I was raised in a rather conservative Christian household (and look at me now) and I was always taught never to mess with that stuff, that it might invite evil into one’s life. Due to personal experiences among other things, I still have a belief in the spiritual aspect of existence- maybe not demons and ghosts per se (though I do have stories of ghost encounters in my past), but that there is such a thing as the soul, and life beyond death, and forces beyond what we humans can fully comprehend or control.

Though I’ve left behind almost all the beliefs I was raised with, at least one remains: I don’t fuck with séances or Ouija boards or anything that could accidentally bring something bad into my space. You would never catch me in a horror movie scenario, is what I’m saying  😆

However, the realm of fiction is fair game. Especially for the sake of the narrative.

Séances in film always seem to be done slightly differently- usually there’s a table, and a candle or something- I kind of just set up my own scenario.

Someone asked me why Lizzy and Sybil didn’t just try to summon Edward’s spirit right away- to be completely honest, it’s mostly because it didn’t occur to me 😅. But I also think that Lizzy wasn’t ready to confront whatever truths he might have to tell her- or that the grief was still so fresh, she wouldn’t have been able to bear seeing him- or not seeing him, if it hadn’t have worked for whatever reason.

Instead, I chose to tug on a different heartstring entirely and chose to have them summon Tanaka. Tanaka is beyond old, and I think after Ciel died and the manor burnt down, he finally allowed himself to put down the burden of being a steward to the house of Phantomhive. He deserved a rest. I think his death would have been painless- he probably went in his sleep. The Midfords would have taken good care of him.

And of course, he would be against what Lizzy is doing. Not angry with her, but worried- he would want her to move on, to put everything behind her and live a normal, happy life. But she doesn’t really have a choice at this juncture- desperate times and desperate measures and all that. I knew from the beginning that Tanaka wasn’t going to be alive in this story, but I still wanted to give him a cameo, however bittersweet it may have been.

I do hope the séance scene was sufficiently eerie- I don’t really write horror, or anything that’s meant to be all that scary, but I did try to give this scene a little bit of a spook factor. One of the ways I try to do that is by limiting descriptions of things until the moment after they happen, and

More

Paragraph

Breaks

As a way to control the pace and rhythm of the scene. Prose is like a rollercoaster, or a run on a treadmill. You must have moments when your heart rate spikes and in between periods to cool off. I try to do that- I’m not sure how well I always achieve it, but that’s the idea.

One of my favourite things I like reading in readers’ comments are the reactions to the revelation of new information, i.e. that Sybil’s mother was a witch. The burden of being the writer is knowing things ahead of time, and not getting to discover them at the same moment your audience does. Coming up with the idea and executing it is its own reward, but sometimes I wish I could read my own writing like it was something I’d never seen before. That would be so cool. So know that as a reader, the best thing you can do is comment your reactions on stuff because it’s the closest that authors can come to that feeling!

Lizzy and Sybil trying to summon Ciel and not being able to because he isn’t dead was another idea I had right from the inception of this story. Since Ciel is a demon, however, and is therefore connected somehow to hell, or the afterlife, or the supernatural world in general, I imagine the séance would have some sort of pull on him, which is why the interjection of him waking up in bed feeling like someone was calling his name.

Lizzy and Sybil complete each other- they have the idea of summoning Sebastian at the same moment, and even if they hadn’t, one of them will always end up enabling the other. Heaven help anyone who gets in their way, they just won’t be stopped 😆 😆 Even if it does eventually get them in over their heads. But that’s another chapter for another blog.

See you next time!

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 11.1

“More than you’d think.  But it’s like… secrets in a small town type stuff.  Blood in the streets, a struggling defense against invaders.  Killings, gunmen, cannibalism, underage drinking…” “What shows are you watching?” “…But the cannibal types are on the side of the good guys, I think.  When they aren’t too hungry.” “Is this from a game?” “There’s not much game about it.  It’s deathly serious.  But it’s the kind of serious where you have to joke about it and play it off as non-serious to your mom, while she’s all confused, you know?” “I’m definitely confused.  I do like your imagination though.  I wish I could keep up with it.”

Verona really does just tell her parents what's going on, secure in the knowledge that they won't follow up about it. I mean sure, I don't blame Verona's mom for not realizing everything Verona said has happened, but I think saying "There's something dangerous and serious in a way where I have to joke like it's a game to you." should raise some questions

Verona said, deciding it was best not to push things too far, fun as it was. As important as it was to leave a trail of breadcrumbs in case something bad happened.

oh. Well that's grim, but probably a good idea. Though if the girls die suddenly and violently, I think having had a trail of clues indicating that this was an ongoing problem parents didn't notice might make it worse.

“Mom.  Did you pay him?  Or threaten him?  It matters if I’m eventually going back there.  I want to know what’s going on.”

incredibly depressing to be able to put an exact financial value on how much your presence is worth to your father

“No.  No, not bad.  I hope not, anyway.  It seemed easy and streamlined, me leaving you with your dad while I got set up, and then with how bitter you were, and distance?  It felt easier to not force things.”

Verona also often takes an easy route in daily life, but not about things that matter to her. Which means either she's unlike her mother in that, or it implies some bad things about how important Verona is to her mother.

“High school daughters,” Lucy countered.

congratulations!

“Feels shitty.  It’s like, I’ve got this impulse to, I dunno, do stuff.  Like, picking up a broom and sweeping and doing laundry and helping out and-”

I get this when I visit people, and that's under normal circumstance

She drew the symbols necessary and then arranged the papers around the room.  She pressed two against the big window at one side of Lucy’s room. It would obscure any vision of spying eyes and confuse any listening ears. “We good?” Lucy asked. She gave Lucy a nod.

huh, was the disagreement a smokescreen? IIRC they've don that before

She set the pieces of her mask aside, sorted out books, put pens and markers into her left pants pocket, ground up glamour from the flower Guilherme had given her in her right pants pocket with three folded up bits of paper with feathers sticking up out of them, ready to quickly deploy transformations.  Back right pants pocket held a stack of spell cards.

petition to get Verona some cargo pants

Avery wore running shorts and an athletic tee with a pocket, which seemed like an oxymoron when it came to the shirt’s purpose.

does anyone ever use breast pockets on shirts?

Shadows deepened, then the light shone through, as if a cloud had passed over the moon and then let it shine brighter immediately after.  What looked like dense trees and a patch of nature at the corner of this area was opened up like an optical illusion had revealed itself, showing the narrow one-lane street that extended into the trees, and the tall, not-especially-taken-care-of house tucked into the trees.  The skeleton of a for-sale sign was set into the lawn, the top portion with the realtor’s face worn by weather, the lower half that hung from the horizontal part of the post had fallen off and was mostly covered in weeds and tall grass. “City magic is so badass,” Avery said.

Agreed

Possible Demesne for Verona?

“They’re definitely more active, and more sloppy,” Lucy said.  “Edith especially.  But it doesn’t feel scared.”

and getting the cube back wasn't brought up in Edith and Maricica's conversation

Lucy shook her head.  “Which takes us back full circle to the big fat question of why they aren’t freaking out.  And I have this sick little feeling in my stomach that makes no sense, but… what if we have it wrong?”

goddammit. My theories!

“But none of them know for absolute sure who did it, I don’t think,” Lucy replied.  “And this sick feeling in my gut is… what if it’s our soldier friend?  What if we have it wrong and he would get both coup and claim?” “Hasn’t he said he doesn’t want it?” Verona asked.  “But he’ll take it anyway?” “Could be he doesn’t want it but he needs it?” Lucy asked.  “What if our soldier friend isn’t a friend but a major culprit, we screwed up when interviewing him or jumped to conclusions, and the furs are… I dunno.  Secondary?”

huh. I don't think so. I hope not! I don't John was involved with making the Choir out of Yalda, he seemed surprised to find out about that. I suppose he could have been recruited later? But that seems shaky. Maybe becoming the Carmine Judge would let him help Yalda, but I don't see how.

“E was making clothes, right?” Avery asked.

I missed that, can you check the measurements?

“This isn’t going to be one of those situations where we get to gather the information and do a big badass whodunnit moment, huh?” Verona asked.

:(

“When I went to check in with the Judges, I asked if they could give us any kind of protection,” Avery said.  “They kind of said no.  Uhh, as I remember it, the protection we get for taking care of Kennet is what we get, karmically speaking.  We make our own karma.” “I’m finding myself struggling to realize what the point of them is,” Lucy said.

lol. But also yes. Maybe their role is more as arbiters than as criminal judges? Settling property disputes, overseeing contracts, offering a neutral enforcing party for negotiations

“I think they handle the stuff that’s really broken,” Verona said.  “There wasn’t anything super relevant in the books, but there were figures that seemed judge-like who would set quests and point the right people in the right ways to handle anything that was really bad.  In other places you get Lords and committees deciding what needs handling.  The Others who are threatening the seal of Solomon, monsters too big for any one person to defeat, breaches between worlds, stuff.”

or that! Scary to think this doesn't rise to their attention

“That’s the exact kind of moment you should be super cool and confident.  Unflappable, badass Avery,” Verona told her, grinning.

I would like to think that being very flappable and earnest can also work.

“Three times we were wronged,” Verona mused aloud, “That deserves righting.  We can ask for the judges to hand us the ability to right the wrong.  If they can control how karma happens, then let that karma be protection during and immediately after the arrest.  Access to any power that might be held back from us as we try to put it into effect. We need answers from her so we’re not asking for her to be forsworn.”

So like I was saying, arbiters of fairness not of criminal cases

“She was hurting, she was alone, she tried to reach out, and I was busy feeling sorry for myself.  Hurt, Booker gone, having to leave out information for my mom, mostly staying in my room, trying to think of a good way through this whole situation, you know?”

Oof yeah, and Avery gets hurt more by feeling left out, while Lucy reacts strongly to feeling like she has to manage things for other people

“Yeah,” Lucy said, one side of her mouth pulling back hard, disappointed, upset.  “I was scared.” That disappointment and upset gave way to something else, fleeting, deeper, vulnerable.  Lucy looked away a moment later.

and she almost died! And didn't have anyone on hand to talk about it with, and I'm guessing she didn't want to admit to Avery how scared she was

“Really, really close.  And then I was scared too, of what if being in close contact with a ghoul infected me.  Close calls with death, right?”

gods that sounds terrifying.

“I wanted to ask someone for clarification on that but didn’t know who to trust, and didn’t really trust anyone, for a little bit there, and I didn’t even want to go outside.”

And to extend Lucy's fox symbolism, this reminds me of the thing that some wild animals do when injured/sick, of holing up alone and just waiting to see if they die. (Note: I do not know if this applies specifically to foxes). This is mostly not a useful behavior for humans, but man if the urge to just cut down on contact and be terrified and emotional in private isn't relatable (thinking back to Lucy not wanting her mother to see her cry)

“Talk to me?  Send me a frigging mail?  You say you didn’t know who to reach out and talk to?  Me!  Me me me me or Avery or your mom or me!  I can frigging take it, Luce!”

yeah!

“We are cosmically frigging bound together, you jerk!"

I like this line. More frustrated expressions of endless affection please

Worst of both worlds when I can tell something’s wrong and you won’t let me help!

yeah :(

“Avery needs something like this too,” Lucy said.  “The big intense hug.  It’s harder to figure out.”

I'm not sure if the pre-hug scuffling would work on Avery or not

“Okay.  Why don’t we call Avery’s parents and see about her coming over?  Be ready for them to say it’s too late.”

sleepover!

Verona pointed toward the window.  Avery turned, looking, and Verona lunged, rising up out of the bed, and hauled her down, backwards, onto the bed.  Avery lay there, barely on the edge of the bed, Verona holding her from behind, feet still on the ground.  After about ten seconds she tried to get her feet up onto the bed, failed twice, and succeeded on the third try.  They shuffled over so Avery wasn’t constantly on the verge of falling off the bed.

:)

[sojournerdiraq]

Cold Circuit Scene: Negotiations

of course, every cycberpunk novel needs a turning point where the MC works for an entity way shadier than them: Cyberpunk 2077 has Dexter DeShawn and Neuromancer has Armitage.

Here's mine, Galatea, lead researcher of the Yggdrasil Project of Marren International:

Silverhands: @thatqueerweirdo @foyle-writes-things

Let me know if you wish to be added or removed!

The smell of lavender awakens me once more.

This time, it is accompanied by a steady beeping that rises in pitch.

“You’re awake,” Galatea’s voice notes, “your vitals seem steady. So do your enhancements. The data we have collected thus far has been corrupted, though. How unfortunate.”

“The hell happened back there?”

My voice is hoarse, and I find myself in desperate need of water.

“Unknown,” Galatea responds, “I am looking into it now.”

The woman taps a few more keys into her tablet, and it strikes me just how…polished it seems, as though the grip itself were designed for her fingers and her fingers alone.

“We will have to begin anew.” Galatea’s thin lips curl slightly downwards in a(n) (adjective) motion, an elegant mimicry of a scowl.

Again with her unsettling gracefulness. Galatea places a finger behind her ear once more and lapses into silence, before tilting her head slightly to the right. A moment passes, and her rounded cheekbones reappear once more, before retreating into her face 

“There is a request I’d like to ask of you, on behalf of Eleanor Marren herself.” Galatea announces

“And why do you think I’d lick the boot of a woman who would discard me as soon as I’ve finished jerking off her ego?” I mutter, allowing my disdain to spring forth

“We would reward you handsomely.”

“I don’t want no fucking reward. Rather stick my hand in a meat grinder.”

“There is no need to be vulgar, Sibyl.”

“Or else what? Worried about how your superiors’ll react?”

“There are some—”

“Don’t give half a shit. Listen, Gal, there are very few asses I’m willing to kiss, and Eleanor Marren isn’t one of ‘em.”

Galatea pauses, seemingly considering my words. 

“I see,” she answers, “you value your independence.”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“Might I interest you in an…arrangement?”

I sit up, ignoring the erratic pounding in my head.

“What do you suggest?” I ask. I remain skeptical, as Marren International isn’t really known for its honesty or integrity or all that.

However… there just might be something to gain if I dance to their stupid tune.

“Assist us in…cleaning up some messes before the media learns of it, and we will assist you in the recuperation of your memories. Are we clear?”

How did she know I’m…

“Three month contract,” I begin, “at the end of the three months, you let me go with my memories intact.”

“Would you not like financial compensation?”

“I…”

I can finally pay off my debts. I can help fix up La Mano de Plata. I can pay Mama Zoraya back for everything she’s done for me.

I can drive Marren International to the brink of destruction.

“Twenty thou, per gig.” I state.

“That seems a bit exorbitant.”

“Unless, of course, you’ve got an AI that’s set to replace and enhance the delicate science of neurocryptography.”

“Ten thousand.” Galatea begins. Her voice remains calm, level, even in the midst of negotiation.

How amusing

“Seventeen thou.”

“Fifteen thousand, final offer.”

Fuck it, man. Should be more than enough for me.

“Deal. where do I sign?”

[taigertea]

Before I blab incoherently more, Cerise's metas are very good please go read them

Blabbing response under the cut because wow this got long sorry Cerise and followers you don't deserve this, the thoughts don't even pay rent in my head and yet they want to take a trip to tumblr

You're definitely right that Kotetsu does explicitly express a will to stay partners! (How funny that it takes 2 seasons alkjfdsljfds Kotetsu please give your rabbit some verbal affirmation). This might be what allows Barnaby to be more assertive and confident about being by Kotetsu's side in the new pages, having some of that affirmation from Kotetsu

Still, to me it feels a bit weaker than Barnaby's 3 times though, if only because we don't get to see the direct results of Kotetsu's conviction to stay partners since it happens quite literally at the end of the series, vs Barnaby's statements that can be tied directly to evidence/action from his words.

I think that's part of why there might have been mixed feelings about the ending? Because I think Kotetsu's "we're partners forever" felt more like sentiment and we weren't quite sure how it'd manifest itself and weren't sure if we'd ever see it manifest itself. I'd argue we haven't actually seen it from Kotetsu's side yet either, because even in the additional manga pages, it seems like Barnaby's still the one pushing to stay by Kotetsu's side. We haven't seen Kotetsu take action to be by Barnaby quite yet.

Also think it was just upsetting since a lot of taibani fans are now adults if they weren't already adults watching the show back when season 1 came out. Or at least at an age where you start to recognize that keeping up relationships is really hard when you don't have external forces keeping you together, since you have to put in extra effort beyond the forces of work/school/etc. Haha how many plans I've had die and how many times I've said "yeah we should hang out sometime" and it doesn't happen alkjdlksf And I think there's also other factors (like Kotetsu being insecure and leaving Barnaby behind before, how difficult it was for the two of them to even get drinks privately) which could make fans hesitant to take this at face value.

I am really glad they're hinting at it being Barnaby's turn to support Kotetsu. It's clear how important Barnaby is to Kotetsu, but they have shown more explicitly how Kotetsu supports Barnaby (even if it is with some mixed results haha) compared to the other way around. Though support can sometimes just be about being there, that definitely shouldn't be understated. But also, I'm sure Kotetsu doesn't make it easy for others to support him, considering how bad he is about letting others in when he has a problem.

I have no doubt they can resolve these issues if they put their minds to it. Kotetsu's and Barnaby's relationship I feel is a lot about loving each other and because of that being willing to struggle through trying to understand each other and bettering themselves. If they ever do decide to do an S3 of sorts, they still definitely have a lot of room to play around with these two from a character/relationship development standpoint.

spoilers for the new additional 6 pages of Tiger and Bunny 2 (which you can access through this post (big thanks to TLF and @tnbdirectory), i wrote a less coherent rant about this on twitter but like omg

I believe now this is the 3rd (?) time Barnaby has explicitly shown/said he wants to be with Kotetsu, with it being of his own volition

(The three times I can think of 1. when Barnaby comes out of retirement with Kotetsu end of S1 2. episode 21 of S2, in cour 2 when he wants to be partners with Kotetsu for the last time 3. the new TL'd 6 pages for post S2 ending where he really makes it clear he wants to support Kotetsu by Kotetsu's side, without any snark about it, just really requests that he stay and help even when Kotetsu tells him he doesn't need to stick around)

(I don't really count the elevator scene from S2 ep 18 and the final scene from The Rising because though it's obvious to the audience what Barnaby is thinking, I don't think it's clear enough for Kotetsu to REALLY get it. Though you could debate more with the elevator scene, I'm open to conversation lol.)

But I'm just pulling my hair out at how Kotetsu still just really wants what's best for Barnaby, when he looks at Barnaby's bangle it's feels like he's just about to say something along the lines of "can you really be here?" when he could be doing something "more important" or actual hero work.

But Barnaby doesn't even dignify Kotetsu's attempt to push him away just giving that line (that makes me insane) of how he wants to be Kotetsu's support. Also just the way Barnaby KNEW what Kotetsu was going to say.

It's so wild that it's like a mini version of their Rising situation, but this shows how far they've come. Like Barnaby does not stay silent here. I'm sure he remembers how that went down, and at least this time Kotetsu asks Barnaby instead of making the executive decision to leave him in the dust on his own. Barnaby's just so honest here? No bullshit, little snark, just here it is, all on the table. It does make me wonder if the past couple months not working with Kotetsu has made him not want to not cloak things as much and say it straight. Though this might have been something even spurred on as early as S2 ep 21 when there was real risk of their partnership being over, after his super ernest confession.

But this made me think, Barnaby's made it pretty clear to Kotetsu he wants to be partners, even in non-hero situations, but it made me realize that I don't think Kotetsu has ever reciprocated verbally? Not because Barnaby isn't important to him or that he doesn't want partners, but more because of how Kotetsu views himself as a burden/problem to Barnaby? And also because I don't think Kotetsu's love language is really through words (though I think it's important that Barnaby DOES show love through words occasionally without snark, because Kotetsu's a pretty insecure and dense guy, he needs it spelled out for him plainly).

Like Kotetsu seems more to me as an act of service love language guy, which we've seen (and @abluescarfonwaston has made a great post about here). Which makes sense how he reacts in seeing him being a potential problem for Barnaby and trying to remove himself as the problem. Which would be great... if that actually wasn't causing MORE of a problem in Barnaby's life (in that Kotetsu's not a problem at all AND PLEASE STAY FFS).

The big moments that indicate Kotetsu appreciates his partnership with Barnaby directly are basically just in ep24 of S1. Every other time he's just kinda... gone with the flow? Like it's usually Barnaby initiating or asking Kotetsu, except in the elevator scene which was a question and not really an affirmation. WE as the audience can see how clearly Kotetsu adores Barnaby, but I wonder how it comes off to Barnaby in the show when he can't see how torn up Kotetsu gets at the thought of or actually having lost Barnaby as a partner (Rising and hospitalization).

And yes, we see they can "know what each other is thinking without saying anything" but I don't think that's 24/7, as shown by a couple moments throughout S2.

Despite being the more "tsun" one, Barnaby has been more explicit and straightforward about what he wants from Kotetsu (Kotetsu in his life, whatever form it may take).

Which makes me wonder, man would Barnaby just snap, like all the safeties are off, and just kiss Kotetsu if he ever explicitly told him that he wants Barnaby in his life? The other option is acting tsun but I think the previous option would be infinitely more fun.

also bonus thing I noticed:

Barnaby says "WHY" for the word game and Kotetsu asks if he couldn't choose another word. Barnaby refuses, but the next thing Kotetsu says is "YOU" which works out in this situation lol (dunno if this is a English TL version only thing but thought it was funny how it worked out)

also wondering why Barnaby was so stuck on keeping "WHY" 😆

[a-gal-with-taste]

Audacity of Rescue

A/N: Got some inspiration from this little fic from @chickenparm, that may or may not be on my religiously-read list, don't judge me, I can only IMAGINE what y'all got on yours-

Warnings: SFW; Crack only taken semi-seriously, kidnapping, rescue, power-dynamics, boss-employee relationship, rom-com/pre-slash if you squint, little bit of fluff, maybe one or two bootie-smacks & Silco finally shutting the fuck up

The proper response to your employer getting kidnapped is, rightfully, shock. No matter how high or low the pay, no matter if they are a decent boss or sent from hell itself, you would at the very least be shocked, if someone burst through the door, and announced that your boss had been kidnapped.

When it's Silco, however, the response is less shocked, and a bit more perplexed. Confused. Baffled, really, because... Silco had been kidnapped?

Even on your way to the warehouse in question, where your fellow henchman swore this was where he tracked the carriage, you can't help but turn again to Dustin, "You're sure?"

The confirmation, the fourth of the evening, doesn't erase your disbelief, even as your mind shifted into action-mode as Sevika gave the order to burst into the building, taking on the group by comeplete surprise, though not enough that they didn't leave more than a few bruises and scars. Sevika finally got tired of getting no further than the main floor, and snarled at you to go search out the Eye of Zaun.

Bewildered at the concept of the situation indeed, you hadn't hesitated to dash off in search of your employer.

It wasn't that your boss seemed untouchable, there was more than enough proof that the man was as mortal as anyone on the right-side of his face. But a kidnapping just seemed so... vulnerable. You'd never dare say it to his face, valuing your life over speaking your mind so openly, but the idea of the Eye of Zaun, head distributor of Shimmer, kingpin, King, and... well, the idea that it was Silco that had been shoved into a carriage, and driven off in the dead of night, just seemed utterly absurd.

About as absurd as the physical image of Silco was, with ankles crossed and tied while arms were pinned beneath him, writhing on the ground of the warehouse with muted grunts and snarls.

Muted, because clearly he had tried to talk his way out of the situation, and had gotten a gag for his trouble.

Silco. Bound, fuming and gagged.

It was the most absurd thing you had ever witnessed, and instead of more-appropriately reacting with shock of finding your boss tied up & gagged, you reacted instead at the bizarreness of entire situation of it-being Silco in such a predicament.

And you reacted, by laughing.

It was just a snort, short and sudden, but it had been enough for the man laying on the ground to snap his attention over to you. Unmatched eyes burned holes, with the fiery rage of an untamed sea, and the burning pits of hell itself. Rightfully, being caught in the attention of the Eye was infamous, but the pure venom in the way that Silco glared at you now, was quickly proving that both of the man's eyes could be just as deadly...

But then your eyes slipped from his, and caught sight of the gag again.

And another snort slipped out your nose, your hand reaching up to try and cover the noise. Though it wasn't hiding the unconscious, unhelpful curl growing on your lips, "I'm... so sorry."

The glare helped to stiffle it as you stepped closer over to the tied man, though even though his mixed-colored gaze was nothing short of furious, you found yourself biting your bottom lip as you ran your gaze down Silco's body, taking in his helpless state.

"By Janna, I just... I can't believe this is the world we live in," The next snicker also slipped out without permission, as you took note of the little half-bow knotted at his ankle. Another laugh tumbled from your lips, but this time actually provoked by what sounded like a suspiciously muffled 'shut up.'

Forcing your mind to remember exactly who this was, and the fact that your life was now on a timed-limit due to your initial outburst, you took your time to crouch down beside the trussed-up kingpins legs, reaching for the thick rope round around him.

Legs shifted just out of your reach, and your face deadpanned as you glared up at him.

Normally, when one met the enraged and defensive eyes of Silco, they'd be quick to look away. Consitering the shift in power-dynamics, you didn't even give him the courtesy of blinking, "Silco, come on. We're not drag this out more than necessary." If he seemed surprised at the sudden use of his name, in comparison to the 'boss' and 'sir' titles you usually used, he didn't react beyond a distrustful narrowing of his full-remaining eye until it was a mere slit.

A small sigh passed your lips, and you raised an unimpressed brow at him. "Do you want me to help, or do you want me to call in someone else?" You could already see the bastard start to nod, and added dryly. "Because, keep in mind, that's just another person whose going to see you like this. I plan to keep my mouth closed, you really trust everyone else to do the same?"

It wasn't that you particularly cared wheter or not someone-else took control of getting the Eye of Zaun freed, and spared him from further indignity at this predicament. But you knew the group too well, and though most would value their continuing employment, well-being, and state of living, drink flowed too well through your fellow lackeys.

You prided yourself on keeping this particular image to yourself, even after hitting more than a couple extra beers in the future. Not only as a humorous pick-up on your lowest days, to chuckle at when things seemed grim, but also because...

Well, deadly glare, less-than-ideal circumstance and wholly inappropriate-timing aside, the sight of Silco gagged was a mental image you rather selfishly wanted all for yourself.

Of course, you didn't dare voice that aloud, nor ever planned to. Had to keep professional. "If I wanted you dead or harmed, Silco, I would've done it by now." You point out with a frown, again gesturing to his bound legs, with both eyes darting briefly to catalog your every movement. "I know it's an extremely difficult concept for you but... trust me? Trust me to help you. If only to prevent my own demise." You added, not daring to overextended yourself by thinking your relationship went so far as trust.

Expecting another muffled round of snappish, probably sarcastic commentary, you were surprised when Silco instead reacted more cooperatively, shifting slightly on the bound arms beneath him to plop gold-tinged boots atop your own. Ignoring the expectant look from him, you muttered out a dry, "Well, thank you, your highness," and chose to focus on the knot-work instead of the low, warning grumble he offered in response.

Running your fingers on the thick, firm knot just above his ankles, you let out a small swear that had him tense. "These are good," You admitted, managing to wiggle a finger between pants and tight-rope and swear again when it didn't even budge. It made sense then, why Silco hadn't already gotten himself out of this situation. Knots tied too-well, and, judging by slightly ruffled clothing and crooked outturned-pockets, no equipment to saw through the bindings. You paused a beat, than, slightly sheepishly as you remember that you also weren't equipped for this, you quietly added, "Too good, actually... and I don't have a knife."

A questioning shout all but exploded behind the mouth-bit, and you frowned, "Well, sorry, but carrying a knife isn't a part of the official work-syllabus, now is it?" A bit surprised at yourself with how easy it was to snark and sass him, you caught the glint of shock in his teal eyes, just as you heard a distant, muted sound of warming, before the building gave a sudden shake. It went along nicely with the sound of an explosion.

"Great, looks like the fights starting to get juicy," You comment nonchalantly, knowing that you really were on a time-limit now as you reached over to curl your fingers around the lapels of Silco's vest. This immediately earned you two heels of booted feet, that nearly sent you sprawled onto your back.

He obviously wasn't able to say much, but the kingpin managed to work his teeth around the bit in his mouth to let out something that sounded close to, "What are you doing?"

"Again, believe or not, boss, helping." Hiding the sudden ache the new bruise gave you, you stared Silco dead in the eyes with a glare in your own. "There's a back door, and I got keys. We sneak you out, into the car, and back to the Last Drop before Sevika decides my scouting is taking too long."

Sevika would probably keep her mouth shut about this incident, if she were to walk through the doors right now. It would probably be easier, in fact, to run out and flag down Sevika from where she was knocking heads together, and cut out the middle man entirely by slashing the crimelord free.

But you knew it was highly likely that Silco's first act upon being free, would be to erase any and all memory of this humiliating incident. Which would likely result in your neck being snapped before you could blink, and so, for self-preservation reasons, this was a to remain a solo-operation.

The gag was just a bonus, as you really didn't want an ongoing string of commentary to go along with bending down to pick up the man by his vest, and haul the surprisingly-heavy leader of the Undercity onto one shoulder. Grateful for the extra muscle you'd built over the time with his gang, because although the man couldn't weigh 20 pounds soaking wet, it was still a weight you had to brace yourself for.

It didn't help that he decided to start wiggling. And yelling, loudly, from around the mouth-bit.

You imagine he wasn't muttering out praise and appreciation behind that gag, and found your irritation rising when you had to readjust him before he fell off, again, in his rather childish struggles.

"Oh, would you just...!" You don't know why it's almost instinctive, what you do next. Not much time to question it really, though, if Silco let's you survive the night, you imagine you would spend a fair bit standing in front of the mirror, glaring into the mirror-image of yourself.

To try and figure out what on earth possessed you to silence your boss's muffled complaints, growls and barrage of threats, by reaching a hand up, and swatting his ass.

For a moment, you think the rather light, if sharp blow, might've killed him.

Besides an immediate jerk at the tap, Silco goes stiller than death on your shoulder, and twice as quiet, to the point where you wondered if you were now rescuing a rigid corpse instead of a living man.

Then Silco started growling. This was different from his previous snarls, as this one was clearly wordless behind the gag, and in an unbroken, continuous stream of feral fury behind that gag.

But you found you couldn't care less, and the ability the gag gave you to freely speak without fear of immediate rebuke, made you even bolder. "Oh, shut up."

You enunciated your scowl with a small hike-up, further settling the tied kingpin over your shoulder, and not exactly being delicate with digging your shoulder-blade into his gut. "I'm rescuing you, boss. Something I could do more easier if you stopped squealing like a pissed-off feral rat every two seconds-"

The man indeed begin to sound rather rat-like through the cover over his mouth at that particular comment, and your audacity apparently knew no bounds in this situation.

Your hand flashed up, again, delivering another smack to his backside with the flat of your palm.

There was a small, muffled squeak, then blessed silence and stillness.

"Seriously," You hissed at him the moment he went quiet, body visibly shaking with anger. "Believe it or not, I'm trying do you a favor. Do you want half your force to come running and see you like this? Do you want an audience for this, Silco?" Perhaps it was the knowledge that, for your multiple indiscretions, you now faced a slow and painful death at his discretion, that made you unfearing of the man for whatever time he had left.

Unfearing, yes. But maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit of sympathy. You couldn't imagine this was a fun position to be in, and there were rumors of how Silco came to be, well... Silco.

"This never happened," You said, and bit more quietly and passively, as you made slower and careful adjustments onto your shoulder, bracing yourself against a wall to stand up fully with the added weight over a shoulder. All a bit more slowed and calculated, so he could anticipate; you hoped, when Silco inevitably came to strangle you, he would take the show of consideration on his behalf in mind. "We go to base, get you settled like nothing happened and we never bring it up again. Alright?"

Again, you had to wonder if the second-smack to his backside to shut him up, might've killed him again.

Remaining still and silent, you counted several seconds before the man relaxed a fraction. More akin to steel turning to hard-stone in comparison to actually relaxing, but it was an improvement nonetheless that made you smile slightly at the progress, and made it easier to start walking away from the fight, and to the back-exit.

You couldn't help but snort though, when you heard a muffled sentence as you walked out the backdoor with the tied crimelord slung over one shoulder like a slim, irate bag of flour.

"No, I think I'll leave that gag in," Again, a long glare in the mirror was due for when you got home, for what you said next. Well, if you survived the night long enough to get back home. "It's a good look on you, Silco."

The man got one more kick in, as you dropped him off in the passenger seat of the carriage. Despite the growing bruise, you couldn't help but bite your lower lip to hide a chuckle at the telling fact, that he waited until he was seated in the vehicle to lash out.

-

"Hey, Thieram!" Being one of the few remaining who occasionally used his legitimate name instead of the new nickname floating about, the bartender of The Last Drop acknowledged you with a bit more comradory.

That is, until he saw you walking into the empty Underground bar with his boss in your arms. Then, Thieram promptly dropped a glass.

"I'll pay off Ran's tab, if you promise to forget seeing this," You said sweetly after you caught your breath, if only to try and get the guy to look at you instead of gapping like a fish, for his own good. Looking down at the bound crimelord in your bridal-carry wasn't necessary, you could feel the heat of his murderous glare without even needing to be the central target. "...Thieram."

Arms were starting to strain under the weight of the lanky, Undercity's unofficial ruler in your arms, by the time he responded.

"Uh-huh?"

"Seriously, just do yourself a favor, forget you saw this." You said as you turned to the stairs, glaring up at each step before sighing, readjusting your tiring-grip. Gods knew you were already going to end up dead for this, you didn't want to know what your fate would be if you actually dropped the Eye of Zaun. "I'll pay Ran's tab, and he might just let you see morning."

That seemed to get him moving again, as you soon heard the telling scrape of broom-bristles quickly catching broken glass on the floor.

"He's won't say a thing, he'll sooner gurgle that glass than open his mouth," You muttered as you made your way up the stairs, back to the bannister for support before, after an eternity of climbing, you made it up to the second floor. A short breathing break, before you backed yourself into the room with a small kick, shutting the door behind you.

You managed to have enough strength in your growing-numb arms to set the man down in a slightly dignified way, nudging his feet onto the couch seat with your knee the moment your arms finally got a break. "Would you kill me if I went for a water-break?"

You couldn't help the small eyeroll when you only got a glare in response, adding fuel to the fire of his dual-colored gaze when he leaned his head towards you, turning to expose the back-buckle of the gag, and you only scoffed. "I don't need you monologuing on top for everything, just sit-tight for a couple more minutes."

Biting the inside of your cheek at the little joke wasn't helping matters, for Silco caught it immediately and narrowed his good-eye while the other flamed. To be spare from further scorching, you turned and headed to his desk, returning a minute later with not only a letter-opener; which was carefully placed down and set in-sight, but also a compact.

"Figure we got a five minute head-start on the rest of the team. If you want to look presentable, and not like you were just rescued from being tied and dumped on the ground of a warehouse, I can help with that," You offered, waving the compact slightly while his eyes flicked to it, than back to your face, a hint of confusion in the cutting glances. You could only shrug, appearing nonchalant. "It'll show you're unphased by this incident, like it doesn't even effect you. The guys will probably follow suit, and everyone will forget it much sooner."

Understanding shone briefly in his bright eye, but it took him another minute before he turned his cheek to show you the dark one, and hence, the side with ruined makeup and exposed scars.

This surprised you, but for the sake of letting him keep some of his grace, you only sat yourself on the edge of the couch, and didn't comment on the show of... well, not trust, because you could see both eyes trained wholly on you as you coated the small makeup-pad in the flesh-toned material. But at the very least, he didn't jerk away when you leaned over to start applying it to his skin.

"... First time I met you, you were doing this," You muttered, so quietly you thought he hadn't heard. Too focused on making sure the only thing touching the scars was the pad, you blinked when you finally heard the questioning hum. "Oh, uh," Swallowing, finally beginning to remember who this was, you felt a bit awkward recalling the memory. One that, judging by the slight perplexation under the irritation, he had little memory of. "Right when I joined up, Sevika brought me in to help deliver a report... you barely looked at me, too focused on application, or your reflection."

You got another short glare for your slight joke, which flickered out soon when your finger brushed beneath the lidless eye. An apology was quietly, quickly given, before you continued your work in silence.

Neither you or him pointed out the fact that your motions were a bit more clumsy, but somewhat matching in his own applicant technique. Silco, out of his condition, and you, out of self-preservation, or at least, as much as he would allow to be spared once he got his hands on you.

"There we go, good as new." Quick to snap the compact close and set it aside, your hand seemed automatic to reach up, and smooth back the errant strands of hair that had fallen from the ordeal. Even you knew that was much too far, and snatched your hand back the moment you realized what you were doing, letting out a weak chuckle as you avoided the burning gaze given to your face, "See, not a hair out of place."

The subject of your morality, and the fact that it would likely be ending soon, was becoming clearer by the minute. You couldn't even begin to list out all the things you had done this evening, that you knew for a fact had been carefully cataloged for reference when, inevitably, your demise came.

Still, you hoped some goodwill was spared for when the time came, as you made sure Silco had full view of you reaching for the sharp-enough letter opener, before you shuffled to the other end of the couch. Glancing up to meet his gaze, Silco's human eye glanced down from where he'd been watching your expression, to your hands and choice of cutting-material.

There's a beat, then a short controlled nod, before you felt allowed to lower it.

You hadn't wanted to openly shuffle around his desk, but you wish you had done so when you really had to press down in order to start sawing through the layer of bindings. Finally, it broke open enough for you to set the blade to the side, and tug the rest of it off of him. A pause, before you placed your fingers on his ankles. When they weren't jerked away, or kicked at you in newfound mobility, you slowly rubbed your fingers through the end of his dark pants-legs in order to circulate the nerves of his legs.

"Numbess?" You murmured, glancing up at him and managing another quirk of your lips after you met his unreadable gaze. "Can you wiggle your toes?"

Ah; there's the kick.

It's more of a nudge than anything, but gets the point across for you to hurry up. Silco is visibly tensing, shoulders turning squared after you, with growing hesitancy, place a palm there but he turns at the silent request.

You don't move your hand, even as you settle on your knees beside him in the couch, eyeing the knot at his wrist before squeezing your other hand on his shoulder, as you grab the knife. "I'm going to start cutting now, Silco," You murmured, feeling his eyes watching the knife unblinkingly until it goes out of his peripheral. A beat, then you feel him jerk beneath your thumb as it starts to run in small circles through his shirt, just as you place the blade to the ropes.

You don't pat yourself on the shoulder for this pitiful excuse of reassurance. And so you tell yourself you're only imagining the smallest, slightest hint of tension leaving his body, as you rub your thumb into a particularly tight muscle.

Perhaps he's just glad to be rid of his bind, you say, feeling dread start to truly coil within you as the last few binds start to snap, exposing reddened but thankfully uncut wrists. Or he's relaxing, because he's preparing to pounce and tear out your throat the moment he's free.

Oddly, it's the third option that gives you the most reassurance. The first two just open too many more questions for you to properly ponder... not that there's any time left to do so, for the final knot comes apart with a snap.

Immediately, you quickly drop the letter-cutter onto the ground beside the couch, again in full-view of Silco as you half-heartedly shuffle back on the couch, braced for his fingers to curl around your neck as you hear him grunt when he moves his hands up to the front of his body.

Throat feeling dry as you watch fingers curl, than stretch out to their full-length, the Eye of Zaun moves his hands up himself to the back of his head, fingers slipping along the leather-band before finding the buckle.

Your teeth grind slightly when you see the saliva dribble out, the bit in his mouth coated in the stuff at his removal. You have to glance away when you see him slowly work his jaw back to life, reaching up and, a little less elegantly, dragging the back of his wrist and sleeve across his mouth to catch whatever wasn't dripping off the gag...

Looking away, you find out quickly, was a potentially fatal mistake.

"Listen to me." You can't even nod when the hand snatchs around your throat, not yet clenching to drain you of life. But you imagine the fingers curled around, and the thumb pressing firmly just at the top-base of your throat, isn't meant to be a sign of comfort as Silco glowers directly into your eyes. Cyan has now turned icy, and even the hellish-red looks cold at he glares at you, merely inches apart. For a moment, you think the ice in his gaze might kill you faster than his strangle on you will, considering how ever part of you freezes as your wide eyes stay locked on him.

"... Nothing. Happened."

For a moment, there's no air.

Then, you take the small bit of mercy for what it is, and somehow manage to move your head in something that must've translated as a nod of understanding, for he only holds you to his face for another moment, than releasing you. He didn't squeeze, but you feel the need to suck in your next breath anyway, watching him lean down almost gracefully, to gather the remains of his bonds.

"Throw these out, and get out of my base."

"Sir, I have work-"

"Ah, so now you remember who you are working for?"

There's no real way to reply to that, so you quickly click your mouth shut as the Industrialist stands from the couch, pausing for a minute as he rolls his shoulders back. You hear a few pops, and a low, drawn out sigh of ease from the man before he turns, looking down at you in a once-more unreadable way.

"If I find a need for you," Silco said slowly - and a bit hoarsely, you noticed suddenly. "... then I'll come get you. Until then, you'll find it in your best interest to keep to the streets."

It was clear this wasn't the end. Even if your employer just made it clear that no memory of the incident was to extend past this room, nor be repeated by its two current occupants, it was clear it was something he was not going to forget entirely.

That, didn't terrify you.

What scared you half to death, was the fact that he looked like he was still debating how best to respond to your actions tonight, even as he silently tossed the cut-cords into your lap. You wasted only a beat when he jerked his chin to the door, and quickly stood, snatching them tight in your arms and keeping your lips pressed firmly closed as you started to the door.

Foolishly, you wondered how much of a heads-start you could get, though you'd doubt you'd ever be able to run from the overruling kingpin of Zaun. But at the very least, an extended-vacation might be a decent enough idea, until his ire (or whatever else he was thinking about in that unreadable gaze of his) finally burned out-

You were snapped from your thoughts by the call of your name, and equally snapped around to face him.

"Don't forget this," Silco said, striding up on only slightly stiff-legs, but his condition isn't what caught and held your attention, but instead, the gag that he dangled on one finger, by the buckle. When he laid it onto the pile of rope in your arms, your eyes could only stare at the still slightly-moist mouthpiece. Even as the kingpin leaned over you to mutter almost offhandedly, in response to your audacity of a rescue this evening, as his knight in less-than-shining-armor:

"And don't go around chatting about the events of tonight. Or else I may have to find a use for that."

-

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[slasherscream]

hear me out crazy ass boy gang with a s/o that writes them songs but has never shown them. randomly the guys find them knowing them some are gonna be insufferable with the amount of arrogance they now possess and some of them have no clue what to do with the concept of someone loving them and verbalizing it 🥺

A/N: oooh my gosh i'm obsessed with this concept

billy loomis: Was waiting for you to get back from school/work, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t necessarily trying to find anything, but the book was on your desk- you were asking him to read it, at this point. He’s only halfheartedly looking until he realizes the words are lyrics. It doesn’t take a genius to realize the love songs are written with him in mind. At first it makes him smirk. But he can see the evolution of your relationship through the lyrics. General feelings of infatuation melting into the deeper connection of being in love with him, as opposed to being in love with love itself. It’s an ego boost, for sure. Mostly it’s a relief. Here are your feelings, written out on page, clear as day. Your every unfiltered thought. He doesn’t tell you he read the book. He just walks around with a knowing smirk on his face that you’re very suspicious of. You’re easily distracted from this onset of smugness by his sudden romantic nature. He’s never been a bad boyfriend, but he’s certainly never been so downright doting. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decide to just enjoy this random streak of tenderness.

josh washington: You two were moving in together and he was just trying to unpack some of your boxes for you. He’s honestly just setting up your desk for you. All the boxes are marked so that either one of you can unpack anything inside with at least a vague idea of where the stuff should go. Something about the unmarked notebook that doesn’t look like its for school makes him take a look inside. When he realizes how personal it is he wants to put it down. Then he spots his name... and well, he isn’t a saint.

He melts as he goes through the pages. He knows the two of you love each other. You have to love each other, with all the bullshit you’ve been through. But he knows it’s not easy to be with him. Sometimes he worries that you’ll wake up one day and be done with him. Be done with all the problems that come with being with him. He wouldn’t blame you but the thought leaves him hollow. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. He doesn’t know if he could handle you being gone. You love him though. It’s inked into the pages. Some songs written out slow and careful, and others written out sloppy and fast, like you had to get all the feeling out of your chest because it hurt to have it all trapped inside. You’ll walk in carrying takeout and find Josh crying. You nearly drop the food to run and comfort him. When he tells you what’s wrong - or really, what isn’t wrong, you won’t even have the heart to be angry. He looks somewhere between overwhelmed and awe. All he can think to do is pull you into his arms. He holds you so tightly you wonder if he’s afraid someone will come and take you away.

stu macher: He was just going through your stuff because he was bored, honestly. He wasn’t expecting to find anything juicy. The minute he realizes he’s holding onto a notebook full of songs he’s giddy. It’s practically a diary! You'll come into your bedroom and see him poring over your words without shame. He won’t even have the decency to stop. “Hey babe!”, will be his absentminded greeting as his eyes stay glued to a far-too-familiar book. You’ll have to literally snatch it from him. “Didn’t know you felt this way about me.” His teasing will be relentless. You’ll have to threaten to break up with him, and give him a bit of the silent treatment too. Eventually he’ll ease up on you, his grin going soft around the edges. “You should show me them on your own next time. Else I’ll have to go hunting for ‘em.” It’s not an idle threat. Now that he knows the book exists he’ll really tear up your entire house looking for it. Don’t bother trying to hide it. It won’t be worth the headache. 

jd: His first instinct is to become insufferable. As he reads more of your lyrics, he starts getting overwhelmed. Even as he holds the proof in his hands, he can barely wrap his head around you feeling so strongly about him. He traces over your handwriting and relishes every word. You'll catch him in the act but you won't have the chance to get angry. He kisses you like a man starved. Whispers every thought of love he's ever had against your lips, uncaring if he sounds obsessed. He was allowed a glimpse at your soul. It's only fair that he bares his in return.

kevin khatchadourian: Honestly was indifferent at first. He was going through your things because ‘why shouldn't he?‘ when he found all the songs. Page after page he reads. Slowly but surely it starts to get to him. The only person who's ever loved him is his father, and that love is built upon an endless tapestry of falsehoods and manipulation. His father loves someone who doesn't exist. His mother knows him, always has, but she despises him. Celia loves him, but it's pathetic. The hopeless and unthinking love of a dog. And now there's you. When he's with you he drops the act of normality he puts on for everyone else. You were around so constantly that he couldn't stomach wearing the mask 24/7. Beyond that though, there was something about you that made him want to show you everything. At first he thought he wanted to scare you. Now he doesn't know what he really wants from you.

As he reads through the pages he's sifting through your words, finding the deeper meanings. Watches as you stop writing about his mask, and start writing about him. Jagged and malicious and apathetic as he might be. You're infatuated          maybe you even love him. You've written out the words in a hundred different ways. He can see it every time you look at him, reach for him, follow him, talk to him. Reading it is different, somehow. You probably never wanted him to see these words. To know the depth of how you feel. You were probably afraid he'd mock you. A few months ago he would have. Now? He puts the book back, exactly where he found it.

He won't tell you about reading it, but the words are always on his mind. You'll think you misplaced the book one day and be beside yourself over losing it. Eventually you’ll find it again, out of the blue. Something is off about it though... but you’re not sure what. You’ll never know that what you have is a replica of the original book. A good replica, granted, but a replica nonetheless. Kevin thought about the songs too much, and committing them all to memory hadn’t scratched the itch. The constant cycle of the words running through his head. The irritation he’d feel when he forgot a part of a song, or mixed lyrics together. Having the book itself? It quieted his mind. He’s uncomfortable with the fact that he keeps it under his bed, tucked away inside a lock box, just so no one would be able to look at it. He’s never felt so protective over an item before. He tries not to think about it too much.

nathan prescott: He actually looked at your song book on accident. He needed to borrow some notes for a class and you told him he could just go to your room and grab them. He would never go searching for something like that. Saying he values his privacy would be an understatement, so he'd never disrespect yours. As soon as he realizes these are songs he wants to stop reading... but he's desperate to know what you think of him. People lie so easily, but here's a chance to see the raw truth of how you feel. He's terrified as he starts to read. Then he's just shocked. He'd hoped you weren't like everyone else around him. Wanting him to fail, to lose it, waiting for some sort of pay-off or trickle down. Even if you were, he wanted you so badly he was willing to have you any way you came, as long as you stayed. But here you are, your deepest feelings written out in ink, and you love him. You don't even pity him, you ache for him, want him. The next time he sees you he tells you he loves you for the first time. You'll never know that he read your songs, you'll only notice how much your relationship seemed to change over night.

sebastian valmont: Has to deflect. The only reason he’s being such an asshole about your songs is because he’s trying to deflect. He’s the only one here who has also written about you. Maybe not in lyrics, or in poetry, but he’s written about you. His diary is full of you. He started writing about you the moment he met you. Not unusual for him, considering absolutely everything is in his journals. But from the start there’s been something different about the entries that mention you. All his words suddenly become electric, leaping off the page. His descriptions of you, of the time you spent together, nearing obsessive in their detail. As if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

If there’s anything Sebastian is good at its manipulation. He knows he has you. He can have anyone, if he puts his mind to it. He’s made people fall in love with him before. There’s a long line of people who wants his head on a platter for that very reason. You’re the only prize that’s ever mattered, though. He has you now, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? It’s easy for eyes to wander, for the heart to turn fickle. Sometimes he watches you and tries to imagine what you might want from him. Tries to figure out what he could do to keep you interested from moment to moment. If he ever shared his worries with you, his worries that you could just get bored with him and leave, just like that - you’d tell him you don’t want him to be anyone but himself. And Sebastian doesn’t want to be anyone but himself, he doesn’t. But people contain multitudes, are more than a single face. He’d rather be a version of himself that captivates you then a “true” version of himself that you can grow tired of.

But here’s written proof that you love him. As he is. All the long nights you’ve spent talking to one another, side by side. The conversations where you traded barbs and philosophy, and everything in-between. The dinners, and picnics, and phone calls, and rooftops. He was so busy observing you, and trying to create a version of himself that you could love, that he forgot that there was something real for you to fall for. Didn’t even know how much of himself he was earnestly offering to you. Now he can see it in ink, and it’s scary, even with how much he loves you, to realize how much of the real him you know.

So he’s an asshole for a few days. When you confront him he falls apart like a wet sandcastle. You won’t have time to get angry before he’s pushing his own journals into your hands. Sebastian has never played fair, but something about you seeing through him despite all his masks made him want to show you more. As scary as it had been, it was also a moment of pure connection. The most electric, addicting thing he’s ever felt. He wants to feel it over and over again.

[static-fanatic-1]

Hello, I hope you are doing well today. I was wondering if I can get a semi-angst hc of Pakunoda, Illumi, Milluki, Silva, Chrollo, Kurapika and Shalnark + Setsuno, Overhaul, Chronostasis, Tamaki, Endeavor, Shinsou, Aizawa and Shiggaraki with a s/o who hates them, but once their children gets kidnapped they beg and cry to the boys/girls to find their child and bring them safely home. Hopes that makes sense. Please and thank you.

Pakunoda:

She hates seeing you in pain, in ANY pain, so this doesn’t sit well with her at all. It hurts that you hate her, but to her it doesn’t matter as much as her undying love for you. She is sweet, and she knows despite keeping you captive, you are cared for. This includes your and her child. She will tear the world to shreds with her lovely heels.

She will be more methodical in ending whoever took her child, and no harm will come to the sweet baby. She will not use this against you in anyway, she would rather you love her naturally. So when da baby is returned, she won’t tease you or ask for something in return. She just wants to comfort you both and tell you everything is okay now.

Illumi:

Like Paku, Illumi cares about both of you, just in a really different way. He “loves” his kids more as a tool and as a successor to his lineage, not like he loves you. So when his kid is taken, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn’t really think much on the fact you are begging him, though it is a nice change to your typical screaming. He won’t brag, boast, or use it against you, for the most part anyway. He might be robotic, but he still is smart. He will keep your children in mind next time you try anything too risky.

Milluki:

He doesn’t care about his kids, they are spoiled little shits in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want kids in the first place, but one thing led to another and here they are now. So when they are taken, he sees it as an inconvenience, but also an opportunity once he sees how distraught you are.

He makes it into a big deal and boasts about how only HE can save your kids. HE is the only reason you will get your little babies back. And don’t worry, he will make sure you inderstand that. He will ALWAYS use this against you at any moment of any day. He wants you to know you need him.

Silva:

He doesn’t care about your kids, to him they are an end to a means, and another way to keep you with him. So as much as he knows his kids can take care of themselves, or at least he wants them to be independent through whatever means, seeing you hurt makes him take initiative. You are devistated, fine, he’ll save your kids.

Silva makes quick work of whoever took your kids, and makes sure to savor it. Once he’s done, he lets you take a moment to be happy for your kids being safe, but don’t expect to be in the clear. You will have to give him something in return, and knowing his sex drive, you probably wouldn’t like it. But your kids are safe, so everything is fine, right?

Chrollo:

Like Silva, Chrollo doesn’t care about your kids. A means to an end, to keep you locked with him. Though, he really does care about you, so he will do anything to make you happy.

This means getting that little bundle of attention-stealing-shitness back. Anything for you to get on his good graces. Besides, he has the whole troupe that loves the kid, so they will all pitch in to find the little one. I don’t think he will use this against you, mainly because you should already knows nothing will get between the two of you, not even your child.

Shalnark:

Shalnark is a strange one, to me he seems like a mix between Chrollo and Pakunoda. He cares, a lot, but if anything was to come between you and him, he wouldn’t mind making a point. Still, seeing you in so much emotional pain makes him jump into action.

He calls up his best friends to help find the poor sap who took his and your kid. Yeah, they won’t last long. Shal takes great care in handling the little one to make sure they aren’t too scared. He also spends a lot of down time after to bond with the both of you. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to you, but to him it only brought you closer together.

Kurapika:

Really big family man, whoever took your kid must have been the most stupid person to walk the earth. He is defiantly on your side with getting his kid back, so he won’t use this against you as much as the others might. Instead of bragging or boasting about how you need him to keep you safe, he will want a little something in return.

He might be on your side, desperately wanting his kid back, but he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to get a little treat from you. He will manipulate you to feel guilty, like it was somehow your fault, just to get something from you. Wether it be some bonding time, or something more suggestive, he will get it through manipulation. Of course he’d love to bond some more with your kids after he retrieves them, just don’t think you are safe around Kurapika.

Setsuno:

This poor guy had a terrible relationship before you, so there is no way in hell he would let what happened before happen again. He hates the fact you hate him, but he refrains from hurting you in anyway, this includes your kid. He will leave the room, break things, anything other than touching you and both of your kid.

When someone takes the baby, you aren’t the only one pissed off. Setsuno is furious, so he will do anything to get your kid back. He calls his friends just in case, and the three of them destroy whoever laid hands on his baby. Setsuno is happy to have everyone together again and he’ll take this time to bond with the both of you. Just don’t push him away or else he’ll remind you who saved your kid.

Overhaul:

Overhaul finds children to be dirty, they are nasty things that need so much attention. With that being said, to an extent, he treasures his kid. He wants them to be just like him, so he takes his time to teach them everything there is to know about ruling the underground. Again, his kid is an end to a means, but he does think of them a bit more than most of the others on this list.

When he kid is taken, he is frustrated for a few reasons. One is because he taught his kid to use their quirk (if they are old enough to have it by now), and two because he has to waste his time trying did of dirty things. Though, seeing you beg for him to save your baby makes it more worth his time. Much better than when you grit your teeth and turn the other way. So when he gets the baby back, he makes sure you understand what he went through to appease you.

Chronostasis:

Another one that actually likes his children and treasures them. Chronostasis is more of a family man, taking care of the children, getting groceries, the usual stuff to help around the house while you are there. He doesn’t keep you stuck, he just uses his profession to threaten you. But other than that he acts like a normal father when he doesn’t have work to do.

Taking his child is a really bad thing. He values work a lot, so he will put work first, so he will only leave to find his kid once overhaul gives him the go. He might get help, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He will tear anyone apart to find your baby. When he does, he brings them home and smiles at you, taking as much time as he is given to comfort the both of you. Everything can go back to normal now, just ignore the spots of blood on the bottom of his white jacket.

Tamaki:

Such a shy guy, he doesn’t do much to your hatred against him, he kinda just lets it happen while apologizing profusely. Though he doesn’t let you go. He does, genuinely, love his kid. In a way it gives him a sense of pride that he helped create such a beautiful baby. So when they go missing, and you grip his shirt and beg for him to find them. Tamaki is relieved you finally need him, but so frustrated at the same time.

He wants to sulk and cry through his frustration at loosing his kid, but your begging doesn’t allow that. Instead he asks his besties for help and makes sure to hurry. He’s so happy to get his baby back he can’t help the tears of joy falling from his face. When he comes back home you both cry and hold your baby as close as you possibly can.

Shinsou:

I think Shinsou has an inner demon when he is a Yandere, this is when it shows itself. He loves his kid, and is a really relaxed guy when it comes to the both of you. It’s just when his patience is pulled by someone out of his obsessive behaviors is when it becomes a problem.

He goes on his own, after all he is a hero not many know about, and his ability is insanely powerful. He will find the people resposible and tell them to “jump off this building” or “go kill yourself”. Things that will force them to get their hands dirty and stay away from his kid. He comforts his kid, tells them everything is okay now and that the two of them are going home to see you. Y’all can all watch a movie too, get take out and simply take it easy.

Aizawa:

He is almost exactly like Shinsou, or Shinsou is almost exactly Aizawa. The biggest difference is Aizawa has less patience, and isn’t afraid to get a little sadistic. With that said, you are more likely better “behaved”, though you still have some fight in you. Your kid is one of your joys in life, so when he comes home from work and sees you begging for your baby back, he’s happy.

He goes on his own and takes out whoever was involved. He doesn’t kill, he isn’t that reckless, but he definalty beats them to a bloody pulp until the police arrive. He does the paperwork, and then happily takes back his kid. Aizawa will make sure you know he did this for you and he will make sure you only think that. He loves his kid, a lot, but if you think you owe him more love, then that’s a win for him.

Endeavor:

Enji thinks his kids are weapons, I mean, that’s obvious right? He does care, but more as it would be a waste if something bad were to happen to them. Also, they are keeping you stuck with him. So yeah, when they are taken he gets pretty pissed about it.

Enji kinda rubs it in your face too, I mean you are begging for his help. You NEED him to save your kid. He won’t tell you he would get them back either way either, he wants you to think you owe him. So expect listening to whatever demands he wants from you. Not much time to appreciate your baby being safe.

Shigiraki:

Crusty man actually kinda likes his kid. In a way it’s like he has a distaste for them but can’t help but have a connection with them at the same time. Even Shigiraki doesn’t think he would be too distressed if something happened to his kid, but he was wrong. He takes it personally, and your begging makes him even more pissed. How dare they?!

Shigiraki makes a huge deal out of it, the entire league (those close) will be involved to cause chaos to the idiot who hurt his kid. It will be all on the news, how much carnage he caused, but not a single person will know it was because of his kid. He will boast about how he defeated the final boss for you and his kid, and he expects you to reward him. After you reward his efforts he will relax with the two of you, taking in the warmth from your love.

[worstloki]

Okay, this is gettin’ real screwed up here.

I watch a lot of TV. Probably too much. And I’ve seen characters beaten to their knees before, sometimes even with collars. And yeah, there’s usually someone standing over them, and it’s been a woman sometimes. The kind of scene we got in episode 5 of Loki is not new ground.

But here’s the thing. In EVERY OTHER SCENE I can remember like this, the person kneeling is the hero. They’ve been brought down, fully humbled before the sneering villain, and in a few minutes something will happen to get them back on their feet again. It’s usually a tense moment, a “what if they break?” that makes you want the hero to win. You aren’t rooting for, or even liking in some cases, the person standing. You’re cheering for the person on their knees.

This doesn’t seem to be the case with the Loki show. Yes, the viewers may be rooting for Loki, but there’s no hatred for Sif there. She’s not proved herself to be a cold, heartless villain, ruthlessly pounding the hero until all he can do is kneel at her feet.

Except…she did kind of do that. But it isn’t treated as something bad. It’s treated more as something Loki deserved, in my opinion. The show wants us to feel like he deserved to get repeatedly beaten up and told horrible things, just for cutting off a lock of Sif’s hair. I’ll grant, it’s peanuts compared to what happened to him in the mythology. But it’s still bad. Especially since they had him acknowledge it, repeat her cruel words back. They’re playing it off as if Loki is still the villain by himself, and is only good because of other people- Mobius, mostly, but Sif is part of that.

That’s not the way Loki’s character is. In the comics particularly, his biggest arcs are always about reinventing the labels given to him, changing “villain” into something good, something he can use, and doing it by himself. Yes, there’s outside influence, but ultimately Loki is the one who decided to change.

The show is not letting him do that. The show is portraying him as a stubborn jackass who refuses to change until other people show him the light- either with psychological torture presented as therapy, or with beating him up a bunch of times until he gives in. The show and its characters are forcing Loki to become good- they aren’t showing him doing it by himself. He is not becoming one of the good guys, he’s being essentially enslaved by them, and the show is passing it off as somehow all that good influence finally rubbed off on Loki’s cold, villainous heart. That’s why him betraying Mobius was shown as so bad even though Loki barely knew him and had been psychologically tortured by him- Mobius is written as a character who can choose to be good, and Loki is written as a character who must be forced to be good.

And something about an entire show revolving around an independent character being treated as a villain, literally enslaved by the “good guys” (back when the show still wanted us to think the TVA weren’t shady as all hell), beaten to his knees with a collar around his neck until he accepts that he deserves to be alone because he isn’t “good” like everybody else…that doesn’t go down right for me.

The TVA being presented in not just a neutral but often reliable light is something I thought would change once Loki literally called out their propaganda and Sylvie called them fascists, but, for some reason the authoritarian genocidalists are not being presented as a bad thing and it irks me too.

It's especially weird because of the way what Loki claims to have wanted by making choices for people and what Mobius claims the TVA do ARE THE EXACT SAME THINGS, except Loki, until the show, hadn't done that of his own volition and was being tortured during the invasion and is treated terribly for something he didn't even succeed in doing, while the TVA successfully erase events on a mass scale but are presented as having a higher (or at best, - equal) moral ground.

The exact same thing was done in Ragnarok where Loki's "turning point" from a tricksy villainous scoundrel happened because Thor left him frying on the ground and gave him a pep talk filled with lies and general slander about how he could be better - and people see that as good because Thor is framed as a hero, and it's because instead of accepting Loki is a complex character they take what the narrative tells at face value and that is that Loki fights the protagonist(s) so he's bad.

I personally don't like the narrative pushing a character that is canonically an abuse victim and attempted suicide and was tortured right after as someone who needs fixing because he's lusting for power and needs it to gain a sense of control during a retcon which is occurring for the sake of calling him a complete bad guy who needs to change (probably because no actual original character development could be thought of?) after he was just confirmed as queer and colloquially (i assume) called a narcissist because of twisted love.

That he deserves to be alone was presented neutrally as a joke even as he was repeatedly getting beaten to the ground, and then both people he could call friends were removed from his immediate vicinity right after.

Loki isn't being presented as a character that has done a huge mix of good and bad in the movies, he's being presented as an oft incompetent idiot that deserves what he gets because he shouldn't have run away from captors, or he cut Sif's hair, or he killed his mother, or he dared to think he had any importance or could do something good, because the truth is he's an evil lying scourge.

"But maybe," Mobius says, "Maybe he wants to mix it up. Sometimes you get tired of playing the same part. Is that possible? He can change?" And everyone's already forgotten that moments before the mission Mobius said to Loki's face that the TVA has pruned a lot of Loki variants because he's so nice! look! he has hope in him when no one else does! It's also easy to forget the "and hey, if it doesn't work, I'll delete him myself," right after because the guy was smiling through it and the scene is followed by Loki really badly trying to explain the logic of being a trickster who everyone knows is a trickster.

A lot of people payed more attention in Ragnarok than to the other Thor movies so it's not a new retcon and people seem fine with the extremely strange take that 'loki is bad but he can do good sometimes,' because the character is more animated and acts foolish and that's generally more fun for comedy, which is fair for people to prefer imo, people find different things entertaining.

But I do solidly hope the show doesn't go that way though and takes a side with Loki on the narrative stance eventually because I've seen a lot of people who just. miss that the TVA's concept is bad. And those who think they're "reforming" Loki. As if the guy needs anything but a break at this point lmao he only got away from Thanos like 2 days ago please just let him rest for a bit he's a fail villain and it's cringe to have your supposed 1st open queer character get beaten to a pulp by Sif and then put wack sexualizing shots for it too :/

it's like the show itself is trying to sell the angle of "Loki is a villain" and I'm a clown who is still wanting that to be intentional because if it is? It could be amazing and playing with how different parties are framed would be s p e c t a cu l ar and could encourage people to reassess the hero coding in other movies including ones Loki was previously in - but we're reaching the last two episodes and I don't feel like that'll happen.

I feel like even if Loki does reach the end of the show as a transformed person it'll be done leaving the audience with "perhaps you're not so bad after all, Loki," and then also give credit to Mobius or Sylvie or whoever else was involved, simply because as even of yet Loki hasn't taken on a lead role in the show. I'd argue he hasn't really contributed anything worthwhile to plot either. As you've said, he's being shown as someone who needs to change but isn't really motivated to. Aw man they better not make romantic love the reason he wants to change.