#but like when people say in canon she was a wasted character I just go

[kiwisandpearls]

genuine question to anyone who wanted bai he to be a more prominent character after season 3:

what would she even do?

and im talking pre season 5 (iykyk). What would she do for the plot and the characters. She doesn’t seem to have any sort of relationships with the other characters other than being slight acquaintances (no, not even macaque, asides from her getting carried by him once she literally never interacts with him.), she doesn’t seem to be a reincarnation of a past self, she didn’t seem to have any powers, she’s just some person.

I think people have really gotta accept that bai he’s only purpose in the plot was to be the person the lady bone demon has possessed. Again, it’d be nice to see a scene of her coping with that but really that’s it.

[im-subtextsexual]

I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense. 

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay. 

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

[cinnamonest]

Pulchritudinous

Tohru Adachi x Reader

Words: 9.5k

Finally the day has come. I can write a character as a misogynist incel and know it's genuinely 100% canon. What a blessing.

for this I did a teacher! reader, therefore reader is of unspecified age but older than the main cast.

//VERY DARK, female reader, major p4 spoilers, heavy misogyny because it's Adachi how could there not be, implied stalking, near-death experience, major noncon (”have sex with me or die” scenario), threats of death and bodily harm, references to homicide, hair-pulling, choking, firearms, abduction, TV set shenanigans, Tohru likes pointing guns at people

Also I was too uncreative to think of a different slip of tongue so darling makes basically the exact same mistake Adachi makes in December lmao

Synopsis: As the homeroom teacher of the late murder victim, you’re called into the Inaba police station to answer some questions.

“Okay. Just a few questions.”

You forced a polite smile.

“Sure, go ahead.”

In truth, you felt like you were wasting your time.

You already knew most of what was going on. You already knew things that the police didn't. Sitting here was pointless, answering these questions was pointless — you could give him the truth, sure, but that presented a world of problems. It pretty much went without question that that would be a poor idea — you'd be written off as crazy, especially if it somehow didn't work when they tried to replicate your story. You couldn't risk getting fired, or worse, involuntarily committed over psychiatric concerns or something along those lines.

“Konishi was in your homeroom, right?”

You nodded. “That's correct.”

“And you've been to the Junes she worked at, right?”

“Mhm. Once a week or so.”

“Was she ever working while you were there?”

“I recall seeing her there once or twice.”

Yes, it was such a waste of time it felt frustrating. There was nothing you could say — well, nothing you could reasonably say — that would actually be of any help, as much as you wish there was.

“You were one of the last people to see her alive, right? The school said she came into your classroom right before she left.”

You nodded again. “Yes, she forgot to turn something in earlier the same day, so she came back to give it to me. It was only for a few seconds.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going?”

“Not that I recall. I just assumed she was headed home, or to work.”

“Did she seem to be behaving oddly?”

“Well, ah…” you thought back to the day, hit with a twinge of pain at the recollection. “She did seem like she was in a hurry. But not particularly.”

He wrote a few things down, pen scratching at the notepad.

You fidgeted in place, awkwardly clasping your hands together. “Sorry… I know those answers aren't very helpful.”

“No, no, it’s appreciated,” he assured you, albeit seemingly distracted by his task. You gave a weak smile in acknowledgement.

You hadn't intended to become involved in any of this. Hell, you just wanted a nice, quiet life as a teacher, away from the big cities, a small, quaint school. That was it, that was all you'd asked for — a place where you thought life would be slow and peaceful.

Serial murders were not the sort of thing that was supposed to happen in towns like these.

And even then, at this point you wished the murders themselves were the worst part of it all. You never wanted to be exposed to it all, wished you never slipped into that TV. You wanted a normal life, fully within the realm of reality. Not things that defied reality, things that made you pinch your flesh until the bruises were so numerous you knew you weren't dreaming.

Those kids had saved you then, sure, but now you bore the burden of knowing. Having to be aware of such a thing, the way it weighed on your mind, the endless confusion and disbelief as you still struggled to accept it, having to see those kids’ faces in class each day, having them awkwardly come up to you in town outside of school — a routine by now, wherein they assured you that they were working hard on “the case,” and of course, in awkward roundabout ways, always seeking assurance that you hadn't said a word to anyone else.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of such thoughts, turning your attention back to Adachi.

He was trying his best, you told yourself, even if you often felt like he was perhaps not particularly well-suited for police detective work. That dopey smile, that scatterbrained nature, it didn’t seem quite aligned to most people’s idea of a cop — someone who was supposed to be stern, observant, competent.

As for you, well, you'd felt pity for him, between seeing him barked at by Dojima day in and day out, and the general stress the man seemed to be under. You'd gone out of your way to try and be nice to him, even greeted him in public when you saw him — which, given the small world that was Inaba, was fairly often.

You'd been called in for questioning a total of three times, counting today. The first two had been at more convenient hours of the day, whereas today, the detective asked you rather last-minute if you could come in right then and there — inconvenient, sure, but when you considered that it was ultimately for the sake of the poor murdered girl, you couldn't bring yourself to reject coming. Besides, you were the one that found her, it was only natural that you'd be questioned extensively.

Still, there was an issue, one you had noticed as soon as he’d started questioning.

“I don't mean to be rude, but, uh…” You gave your best attempt to be polite, “didn't we… go over most of these questions before?”

He stopped writing. His eyes widened for a moment, but then, they closed as he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish gesture.

“Well, ah, I may or may not have misplaced the notes from last time… I was hoping you wouldn't notice… haha.”

You did not like the knowledge that this man was responsible for public safety.

Still, out of awkward politeness, you waved your hand dismissively, maintaining the pleasant, not-too-exaggerated smile plastered to your face. “Oh, no worries.”

He looked down to the ground, turning his head a bit to the side wistfully.

“Well, now that you say that, more importantly…”

He trailed off. You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in curiosity.

He turned his head back towards you, giving you another sheepish smile.

“…To tell you the truth… there's, ah, something else I wanted to ask you about.”

There was something off about the tone with which he spoke those words, an audible indicator that whatever the subject matter he referred to was, would be something uncomfortable, unpleasant, rather than an inquiry of a neutral nature.

You blinked a few times, taken aback by the unexpected shift in atmosphere.

“Oh, uh, okay. What is it?”

There was a moment of pause, as if hesitant. He leaned back against the seat cushions, holding his hand out in an explanatory gesture.

“Well, you know, I'm a pretty observant guy, and the higher-ups have me keeping tabs on various people involved… I tend to notice and remember details, take in everything around me, you know, stuff that goes right over most people's heads.” He paused and, catching the confusion on your face, added, “just to preface. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.”

Yes, something was off. There was a tension in the atmosphere, anticipation making you increasingly uneasy.

But still… polite. You had to be polite. He was a good guy at heart, even if awkward.

“Oh, I'm sure it's fine.” You closed your eyes for a moment as you waved your hand again. “Don't worry, I'm not sensitive or anything.”

He seemed to take that reassuringly, as his posture seemed to relax, but still hesitated a moment more before leaning forward, coming to slouch over with his elbows resting on his thighs, resting his head against one hand.

“…What's a teacher doing hanging out with a bunch of teenage boys so much?”

You hadn't been expecting any one question in particular, nor even had the slightest idea of what he could possibly want to know, but nonetheless, the question he asked was so out of bounds of normality and social appropriateness that it blindsided you completely, leaving you to sit there completely still, slack-jawed and blinking. Still, you forced a smile as you replied.

“…Ah, I… what?”

He smiled as well, seemingly oblivious to your awkward unease.

“Narukami and his friends, I mean.” He tilted his head, gazing off to the side, seemingly trying to present the matter in a nonchalant manner. "I, ah, couldn’t help but notice I saw them talking to you outside of school several times, in all sorts of places.”

“…Narukami?” You tilted your head. “A-ah, well, those kids all… go to Yasogami. So, they're all my students…”

Your thoughts shifted to the kids — your own students, the ones who saved you on that day not long ago at all. And with the thought of them, everything else, all the memories and disbelief and bewilderment, the things you'd tried to push out of your mind for the sake of your own sanity, came rushing back. Your body went stiff.

But of course, you could never even begin to tell Adachi the truth. As much as you wanted to help, you'd be written off as crazy within seconds — saying people could enter an alternate dimension by stepping inside the TV screen was not exactly within the bounds of sanity.

Besides, you still weren't even certain how all that stuff worked, having decided to rid your mind of it and not ask any questions. Even if he was willing to humor you enough to experiment with your claims, what if it didn't work for him? You could envision it now, putting his hand on the TV screen, only for nothing to happen, and the horrible embarrassment to follow.

Then again, the alternative could be even worse — if it did work, what kind of Pandora’s Box would you be opening? Would you be putting people at risk? He was, in the nicest way you could put it, a bit of a dimwit, and you wouldn’t want him doing something rash and getting himself hurt trying to go in.

No, it wasn't even worth entertaining the thought. You clasped your hands together, looking down at the ground, coming up with an explanation on the spot.

“And ever since Konishi was…” You shook your head, pausing for a moment before you continued. “…A lot of those kids have been talking to the faculty… they need someone for comfort… counseling. It's been hard on them. Hanamura and Narukami just happened to come to me.”

“Right, right.”

The phrasing itself was assurance, but somehow, his response didn’t sound entirely convincing, as if insincere, and pressed you to stammer out whatever further defense you could find.

“A-and, ah, Narukami himself is still getting adjusted to living out here and all. He's… from the city, you know.”

“Ah, aha, that makes sense.” He kept up the awkward smile. “I was worried for a minute there… that you were one of those kinds of teachers.”

You blinked, eyes going wide open as the response came out of your mouth on instinct, without any real thought, simply the obvious thing to say to such a statement. “No, no, nothing like that, I…”

You trailed off, not even sure how to continue. The sort-of-accusation hit you with total bewilderment, felt completely unexpected. In what world was that an appropriate thing to ever say to someone, especially with so little evidence? Why would his mind even go to such a trail of thought? It was only the sort of conclusion you could imagine some kind of perverse deviant drawing, and you couldn't imagine him as someone like that.

But you refrained from any strong negative reaction, outwardly at least.

You liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just one of those people that had difficulty understanding social conventions and standards of appropriateness — you'd had students like that in the past, and you liked to think you were a particularly empathetic and understanding person when it came to things of that nature.

“Ah, well, don’t worry, I get it now. Sorry about that… now I feel a little dumb for having asked, hah…”

"Oh, it's, ah, it's fine."

Your response was equally awkward. You knew your discomfort had to be palpable.

He flashed you an awkward smile, but it only lasted a mere second.

And then—

“Well, guess that's it for questioning.”

With those words, he reached over to the small table beside the couch, and turned the light off, leaving the room only dimly lit by lights in the outside hallway, coming in through the half-open door. He then stood up, the dated leather of the couch on his side of the table making a slight sound at the moment.

“A-ah, um, what are—”

Your jaw clamped shut as he quickly ventured around the table and sat down next to you — directly next to you, your thighs touching each other’s. You went rigid, hands clasped together on your lap tightening their grip on each other.

“Don’t worry, I had a feeling you weren’t that sort,” he said, a much lower, more hushed voice. “Still, you should really be more careful… it'd be easy for someone to get the wrong idea.”

Your mouth felt dry. You sensed that the pause was intentional, giving you room to say something in return, yet the utterly bizarre and off-putting shift of the conversation, combined with the sudden proximity and invasion of your personal space, left you silent, slack-jawed, and thus, he filled the silence when you didn’t respond.

“…Speaking of, you're getting kinda up there, age-wise, you know. Kinda surprising you're all by yourself.”

He leaned back against the couch. Alarm bells sounded in your head. You didn't want to be rude, you didn't want to risk overreacting — maybe you had the wrong idea, maybe you were misunderstanding, and then it would look really bad on your part if you acted on that misunderstanding, maybe he wasn't aware of how it was coming off, the possibilities of what was happening flew through your mind all at once. You sat still, but stiff.

He didn't seem to notice.

“You really should start thinking about your future.”

You felt every nerve ending in your body ignite with the discomfort and alarm of unfamiliarity as his arm wrapped around the back side of the couch, coming to touch the back of your neck, forearm resting on your shoulder. The casual hold around you grew tighter, his arm pushing you inward towards him.

“You know, ‘cause most women your age are getting into serious rela—”

You moved on pure reflex.

Your body sprang back in the opposite direction, feet scrambling against the tile. Your hands reflexively pushed outward, shoving against him, and you found yourself tumbling off the couch and falling flat onto the floor, grunting as your tailbone hit the harsh surface.

For a moment, the pain that it sent up your spine consumed your attention, distracting you for a few seconds as you winced, pulling yourself to sit upright.

And then, you processed what you'd done. Your head snapped back upwards to look at him. “A-ah, I…”

He looked caught off-guard, momentarily wide-eyed with the sudden startle, having been moved slightly to the side by the force of your push.

And then, his face fell.

His eyes went half-lidded, smile disappearing. A total shift in expression, to one you had never seen the young officer wear before — one you wouldn't have thought his face was capable of.

His voice dropped low, a flat and empty tone.

“…You too, huh.”

You blinked rapidly, heart only beating harder and faster at the feeling of dread and alarm that began to rise up in your stomach. You pushed yourself backwards, hands pushing at the ground to move your body away from him.

“What… what do you—”

“And here I thought you were such a sweet girl.” His voice interrupted yours as he took a step forward, a cold dramaticism to his tone. “So nice… you really seemed to get me.”

You blinked in bewilderment, cold dread beginning to bloom in your gut. You barely knew the man, having only spoken to him a handful of times, most of which were about the case, and a few passing words when you ran into each other in town.

He stopped once he reached you, his shadow looming over your sprawled form. His eyes narrowed.

“But no, you're just another snobby little bitch, aren't you.” His nose wrinkled with his expression of disgust. “Think you're too good for me, don't you?”

You scrambled up to your feet, stumbling on unsteady legs. You pulled your hands up to your chest, curling them into fists, a defensive reflex. Confusion and panic rapidly began to take over, you could feel your heart beginning to pound heavy and fast as the reality of the situation settled in.

“No, no I—” you swallowed, shaking your head in an instinctive reaction to the sudden hostility. “I didn’t mean to—I was just startled, don’t…”

You found yourself trailing off, unable to summon coherent words through your alarm.

He looked you up and down, expression of apathetic disdain unwavering.

“And to think I gave you a chance.” He sighed. “Thought you'd be different from those two.”

You blinked. Something about those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, but you couldn't tell why. Like a siren going off in your head, a chill that ran through your blood, your gut instincts unmistakably commanding you to get away — and you would, except for the fact that, as you realized with the sense of alarm in your chest growing exponentially, he stood between you and the only exit from the room.

“What… what do you mean those—”

Your words cut off.

Time itself came to a standstill. You stood, motionless as a corpse, as a chill pierced your chest. A deep, profound sensation of cold that spread out from your heart, into your blood. You were certain you could physically feel the ice spread out through your veins, to every cell in your being, an all-consuming cold.

You realized that, as he said those words, his gaze shifted over to the side. Your eyes followed his line of sight.

He was looking at the TV, tucked away on a stand in the corner of the room.

Why was he looking at the TV?

You could feel your pulse in your chest. You could feel your pulse in your neck. You could feel it in your head, your fingertips, the way the blood began to rush through your body, the way your heart began to pound, an electrifying sensation setting every nerve in your body alight.

The direction of his gaze, his words, the sudden shift in demeanor so drastic it felt as if he’d swapped places with a different person entirely— it made the hairs on your body stand on end, goosebumps spreading across your skin, and a deep, unnerving sense of nauseous dread as your frantic thoughts began to align. Your muscles went tense, shoulders bunching up.

Words came out between your lips, words you heard more than you spoke, as if your mouth moved on its own. A low murmur, just barely above a whisper.

“…Did…”

You took a step backwards. Your body twitched, shivered.

“…Did you…?”

Silence hung in the air.

You would expect someone in his position to look shocked, panicked, regardless of the truth of the matter. To rush to their own defense, to immediate respond.

But he did not.

There was a few seconds of pause. For just a moment, his eyebrows raised, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

And then, the officer's eyes fell half-lidded, and ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth pulled upward.

Something inhuman stared down at you, a malicious, sinister grin spread across his face, stretched just far enough to look inhuman, uncanny.

Your heart began to speed up. Your voice grew louder, but it audibly wavered with panic.

“You… you put them in there?”

That time, it was his turn for his eyes to go wide, an eerie smile slowly spreading across his face. He tilted his head, the motion seeming almost mechanical.

“Oh…?”

A jolt of panic ran through your veins as you caught your mistake. Your hands instinctively darted to cover your mouth, but it was too late. He took ominously slow steps towards you, each one making a harsh clack as his soles made contact with the tile.

“’Put them in there…?’ What an odd choice of words…” His voice grew lower, deeper, eyes still plastered wide open. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you know some things you have no business knowing.”

You took a step back.

He took a step forward.

“How might that be…? Those kids, maybe?” He cast his gaze over to the TV once more. “I had a feeling something like that might be going on, with you talking to them so much.”

Then, his eyes slowly turned back towards you.

He kept smiling. The same expression, yet so far removed from the cheerful, dopey one you were so used to, the face almost didn't register with your recognition, as if you were looking at a different person.

And then, it grew so much it made his eyes narrow, from mere malicious amusement, to sadistic glee.

“…Intentionally withholding information from the police is a pretty serious offense, you know. ‘Obstruction of justice.’ It’s a felony.”

Your stomach churned, you felt nauseous, muscles tense with the urge to move, but forced still by lack of option. You could only move back further, further away from both him and your only way away from him.

“What… what about the other people that went in? Was that you, too?”

His face fell, almost comically, shifting from eerie to unamused, as if your question was so exasperating it made him drop the intimidating act.

“…God, you are really, really stupid, you know that?” He sighed, shoulders falling. “You just realized that saying too much is a bad idea, and then you immediately do it again?” He shook his head, letting it fall downward with mock exasperation. “Geez, lady.”

But then, you saw his expression perk up with amusement once more.

“But, guess that means I was right… you are collaborating with those brats. I had a feeling.”

Your heart pounded harder still. You kept stumbling back as he crept ever closer, torturously slowly. You held your hands up to your chest in a natural, reflexive instinct of defense, shrinking back.

“…You’re not… saying you didn’t… do it…?”

He shrugged.

“Don't see much of a point in that now.”

He wasn't denying it.

But the simple fact itself was not what made every hair on your body stand up. It was a slow buildup of dread, blooming in your chest, and as the thoughts processed, it was those words, more than any others thus far, that made your blood run cold.

He didn't care if you knew.

He didn't see you being a threat. He wasn't worried about you telling anyone.

Then—

You felt cold. Time seemed to slow down. You were hyper-aware of every muscle, every nerve, you could feel the blood rushing through your body.

“Guess we were both hiding something,” he said in a low tone, taking another step, forcing you further back.

And then, the inevitable happened, causing your blood to run colder still, the fear in your system amplified tenfold in a single second.

Your back hit the corner.

You pressed into it as hard as you could out of instinct to get away, as if it would give way if you did.

But it did not. You were trapped, a little animal cornered by its hunter.

“Ah… ah…” Your breathing grew ragged. Your body trembled, your eyes began to water. “I… Adachi-san…”

The only light was that which came in through the hall, hitting his back, casting a shadow over his face, only the whites of his eyes and grinning teeth standing out — nightmarish, something that could only be recognized as sadistic ecstasy. Pure, unadulterated malice.

He was going to throw you in. He was going to throw you in there and you’d die. The image ran through your mind, so quickly retrieved now that it was irreparably burned into your brain, the shape caught up in the wires, a black outline in the early morning light, how you’d told yourself you were just seeing things, that your brain was spooked from the news of the prior murder, before the rising sun made the image undeniable.

The way you’d squinted and facial recognition hit your body like a punch to the stomach, taking the breath out of your lungs, how you felt the horror slowly rise up into your chest like ice cold water filling your body, how you’d dropped your phone and struggled to dial the police from how hard your hands trembled.

It would be you. You’d be strung up on the wires, dangling by your limbs in a manner almost graceful if not for the entrenchment in death.

You could tell that he could see it all playing out on your face, the thoughts and realizations and terror, by the way his smile split at the line, whites of his teeth standing out in the darkness.

“Well then.”

You didn't have time to move. Before you could even react, he had the collar of your shirt in his hand, twisting the fabric, pulling you upward.

You stumbled around, only the balls of your feet able to even touch the ground. “Wait, wait, stop— I’m sorry—”

“What was that?” He said, voice mocking, cynical. “You said you were sorry?”

You nodded profusely. You weren't thinking too much about it — your only instinct was that trying to appease him might save you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— I was just startled, I wasn't trying to push you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

You spoke so fast your words slurred together, your voice was shrill and cracking. Tears began to pour down your cheeks. Your body shivered beyond your control, a fear unlike anything you'd known in your life.

There was no movement, no harsh dragging and jerking and inevitable pushing you might have expected.

“…Hm.”

You could only make out the shape and colors of his face, unable to see his exact expression through the blur of your tears. But his voice was hesitant, pensive, as if the blood-pumping rush of the moment were brought to a sudden stop.

Your heels connected to the ground as he lowered you, but he didn't let go of the fistful of your shirt. His other hand reached up, and although you winced in anticipation, all he did was wipe at your eyes with his sleeve. Trembling, teeth chattering, you slowly turned your head up to look at him, his face now so much closer than it had ever been.

The smile was smaller, fainter, but still present nonetheless.

“…You know what? I like you, Little Miss Teacher.”

He reached up to grab your jaw, a harsh and painful grip.

“Look at you, apologizing like that… so meek.” He leaned his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to a husky murmur. “You seem like you know your place, recognize your mistakes…” His voice lowered to bitter mutter as he finished, “instead of doubling down on being a bitch.”

He pulled your head to tilt further upward, forcing a degree of eye contact no matter which way you looked. He spoke lower, quieter.

“Self-awareness is a good trait to have.”

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Your throat was strained, your mind ran blank. You could only stare with wide eyes, fighting every instinct to claw at his hands, what little rationality you had left telling you it would only worsen your situation.

“But I still think you're a little full of yourself.” His fingernails pushed into the flesh of your face. “You could use some humility.”

You whimpered, a pitiful little sound. You could see his smile grow as it met his ears.

He let go.

You crumpled to the ground, knees hitting the surface painfully, hands pressing to the floor to keep you from toppling over entirely.

He took a few slow, nonchalant steps back towards the center of the room, pausing as he reached a small table close to the door, turning back towards you and leaning against it.

“Hey, how ‘bout I give you a chance to redeem yourself?” He titled his head. “If you can prove you're sorry, I think I can let this slide.”

He reached one hand over to the opposite hip. Before you could even make out in the dark what he pulled out from underneath the veil of his suit jacket, the recognition hit as he extended his arm back out to point the object at you, and a heart-stopping, unmistakable click.

“Go on. I'm waiting.”

You trembled, reaching one hand to clutch to your chest again. “What… what do you want me to do…?”

His face turned unamused once more, voice equally so as he gave a blunt, low-voiced reply.

“You’re not that stupid.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your throat. You swallowed, looking down.

For a moment, you hesitated. Your mind scrambled for reasons why he couldn’t kill you. He couldn't — right? Your blood would get on the floor, he wouldn't have the ability to clean it out well enough, right?

But no one else knew you were here. No one would know to look here. If he cleaned it up and threw your body in, that would be the end of it.

There was no other option.

Your trembling hands reached down to your outfit — a cardigan, a button-up and a pencil skirt, the general standard for your profession — and slipped the outermost layer off. After a moment of uncertain hesitation, you resolved to simply throw it into the floor. Then, you began unfastening the first button at the top of your shirt, struggling with how hard you shivered.

“You wear that to school?” His words broke the momentary silence. “In front of a bunch of teenagers?”

You clenched your jaw. You didn't think it was in any way inappropriate. “I… it’s not bad…”

“Wonder how that's even allowed,” he continued, as if you hadn’t spoken. “You get off to high school boys staring at you, is that it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, shaking your head. “N-no, I've never—”

“God, you are that kind of teacher after all. Haha!” He laughed aloud, reaching his other palm upon to his face. “I knew you were. I could tell just by watching you walking out the school gates every day… always talking to that brat.” He shook his head, then sighed. “No wonder girls these days are such whores, with role models like that.”

You stopped mid-motion, hands clenching at your shirt as the meaning of his words registered. Images flashed through your mind, all the unique and loveable young girls in your class, and of her. Even in your dread, you found spiteful anger bubbling up in your chest, voice coming out weak and wavering, but defiant nonetheless.

“Don't… don't say things like that, you—”

“Did I tell you to stop?” His head snapped back in your direction, nose wrinkling with an expression of disgust.

You winced, mouth snapping shut. With tears prickling at your eyes, you continued.

Your jaw was clenched, face growing warm as you undid the last button, hesitating for a moment before you let it fall off your shoulders, weakly tossing it to the floor as well before going for the zipper on the side of the skirt, shaky fingers pulling it downward.

“So mechanical about it…” He sighed, disappointed. “If you're not gonna even try and make this part entertaining, the least you can do is hurry it up.” He gave the pistol a light shake to emphasize. “C'mon.”

You bit your lip, forcing your pace faster. The skirt hit the ground, and you pulled your tights off your legs so quickly that one side split open as you did. Your feet pulled out of your shoes, tile cold against your bare soles.

Then, you hesitated. Embarrassment washed over you as you looked down at all that was left.

Your eyes darted up to the man pointing the gun at you once more. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head with that cocky smirk on his face, nudging the pistol in the direction of the pile of clothing now by your side.

You closed your eyes and reached your hands behind your back, elastic material snapping as you undid the clasp. You pulled the waistband around your hips downward, and tossed both to the side.

The air was cold against your skin. Goosebumps covered your body, far more for from fear than the chill.

You reached a hand up over your chest, pressing your legs together, trying to find some semblance of dignity.

“Aw, shy? That's adorable.” He chuckled. Snide grin unfaltering, he reached his other hand up, gesturing with a finger for you to come forward. The other arm didn't move, deadly weapon still pointed directly at you.

You tried, but your body wouldn't move. The instinct to stay away was too strong, an inherent gut reaction bred into your brain by who knew how many millions of years of survival of your species.

Prey animals didn't run right into the gaping maw of their predators.

But you had to. You had to.

You took a deep breath, and forced one of your legs to move forward. Then another, forming a forward momentum that you just had to keep going, more a matter of letting your weight glide forward and catching it again and again, rather than forcing each step individually. You kept your gaze at the ground. If you looked up, you knew you'd freeze again, and you didn't know if you had the willpower to force movement from stillness again.

You stopped when his legs were visibly right before you. Your heart was pounding, beating so fiercely you could physically see the pulsating of your wrist moving with the flow of blood.

“There, see?” He reached forward, placing his hand atop your head. “You know your place after all.”

Even through the overwhelming sensation of heavy dread, the burn of humiliated fury made its way through. You clamped your jaw harshly, teeth grinding, but not letting that anger lead you to any foolish action.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes as his hands then brushed against your shoulder. The touch was cold, leaving a trail of sensation as his hand trailed down your arm, the electrifying feeling lasting on each spot even after it was touched. You winced at the gentle clack sound as the gun was set down on the table’s surface.

And then, you went tense, inhaling a sharp breath as his hands harshly grabbed at your arm and your neck, roughly turning you around and pushing your upper body downward. Your feet stumbled to steady your stance, and your hands reached out to the nearby wall. The panic in your chest felt as if some accumulating bubble of emotion had burst, the intense chill of suddenly rushing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but stand there — a bitter helplessness, a burning fury at your own pathetic weakness beneath the terror.

“Oh, and hey,” his fingers dug painfully into your arm, “feel free to scream or whatever. I made sure to pick a night no one else would be here.”

You stiffened. Even in your fear and panic and confusion, you managed to make the words out well enough to infer the implication. You turned your head over your shoulder to the best of your ability.

“You—you… planned…?”

“Mm?” He raised an eyebrow. “Obviously. I needed the station to be empty in case you made me kill you, y’know?” He said it nonchalantly, as if it were a trivial matter. “But hey, it was only insurance, just in case… I knew I probably wouldn’t need it. You seemed like you’d be good for me.”

He pulled harshly at the fistful of your hair.

“And whaddya know, I was right. Third time's the charm… or whatever that saying is.”

Bitterness welled in your chest. Your head hung heavily against his hold, pulling at your scalp.

“Now…”

You winced and yelped as he turned you around and your face hit the table, pain radiating from the spot of impact. Your immediate reflex was to put your hands on the table and push upward, but his hand in your hair kept you shoved downward, with an added hand pressing your back into an arch.

You didn't get any moments of mental preparation, much less physical. No sooner had you grunted in pain from the impact than you felt the sudden harsh burning sear of friction to the most sensitive flesh, your body being forced apart by sudden intrusion. You inhaled a sharp, gasping breath, instinctively trying to lurch forward away from the sting, but his hands easily pulled you back, pushing further inside of you until you felt the fabric at the front of his thighs meet the back of yours, hips pressed up against your ass.

“God, fuck.” You heard his voice from behind you, spoken more like a harsh whisper of breath. “…’s warm…”

He pulled back. You gasped and whimpered at the sensation of flesh dragging against your insides, onto to squeal, body jolting as he slammed back inside in one swift motion. Twice, a third time, each making you go tense, shivering, walls spasming.

“M-Maybe you're not such a slut after all…” he murmured. “You feel good.”

You said nothing, unable to summon any words, merely letting out a miserable little sound as the rough motions continued, pressing your forehead to the flat surface below as tears fell down your face and a soft string of under-the-breath curses made their way to your ears.

And then, the motion came to a halt.

“But you're so noisy… listening to you squealing like that is giving me a headache.”

A moment of pause, heavy tension, deliberately drawn out. You felt the faintest shift of muscle against your backside as he turned his upper body over in the direction of the television.

You grunted as he pulled out, leaving your hole twitching. His arms wrapped around you waist, lifting you just enough that your feet left the ground, somewhat awkwardly making a few steps over to where the screen sat in its place on the stand. Your heart felt as if it were going to burst out of your chest, a cold rush ran through your body.

His hand reached up, taking a fistful of your hair once more.

“And you know what else…”

He came to a halt, sheathing himself back inside of you with a harshness that made your jaw clench in pain, taking a few heaving breaths before practically growling into your ear.

“You're not afraid enough.”

Your own breath was ragged, more panic than you'd ever felt in your life causing your heart to pound like it never had before. “No, no please don't—don’t—”

And then, taking a fistful of your hair in his hand once more, he shoved your upper half through the screen.

Out of pure logical instinct, you tensed and squeezed your eyes shut as to brace yourself for brute impact, for shattering glass that would cut your scalp and scrape your arms.

But instead, there was a sudden void. All the noises of your scuffling movements and the low hum of the air ventilation system in the station was suddenly gone, replaced by only hollow quiet, only broken by the low, eerie groan of the atmosphere itself.

Your arms reached out, desperately seeking something to grab, to hold, to push back on, but you felt nothing, limbs merely frantically flailing into the yellow void.

You squealed, but that time, it echoed around you, surrounded by a thick, heavy fog. You could make out the deep yellow atmosphere around you, but you were being jerked back and forth so harshly, and the tears in your eyes and the fog itself so deeply blurring your vision, to the point it was impossible to make out anything.

You couldn't hear him anymore — but even so, you could still feel him pounding into your body.

He tilted you forward. You felt his arm, having pushed through the screen, latch onto the back of your shirt to keep you from falling. Your feet left the ground, your weight shifting from being mostly on the other side, to most of it falling forward on the side of your upper half. You were entirely suspended by his strength.

If he were to let go, you'd fall in completely.

You shrieked. A high-pitched wail that echoed all around you, a sound of pure terror. Your hands reached out in an attempt to push yourself back, but found nothing, merely flailing in the air.

And then, you were jerked backwards.

Your squealing continued until he slapped his hand over your mouth.

You could hear it again, the slapping of skin on skin. Your body was fully back in the real world. Your back hit his chest.

“Was that the sound you were making the whole time your head was in there?” There was mirth in his voice, laughing out the words themselves. “You wanna go back in? Kinda nice in there, isn’t it?”

“No, no!” You shook your head rapidly. “D-don’t, please, I don't want—”

“You could go all the way in, you know.” He pulled on your hair harshly as he jerked his hips forward and came to a halt, holding you still, pain shooting through your scalp. “It would be so easy,” he hissed into your ear. “All it would take is one little push.”

You gasped for breath, unable to respond beyond shaking your head further.

“You haven't been on the Midnight Channel, either,” he added. “Those little brats wouldn't know to come looking for you ‘till it was too late.”

He chuckled, a deranged, low sort — and then went quiet. His torso leaned further forward, face brushing against the side of your neck in a gesture that, in any other context, could have been affectionate. Still sheathed inside your body, he slowly rolled his hips again, a long-drawn out movement, savoring the feeling. Your face scrunched up with uninhibited despair as he spoke again, through labored breaths, as he began to speed up the pace again.

“…But you know what? I don't need the TV to kill you.”

Then, his voice lowered. The playful mockery vanished, something far darker that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally broke through — a low growling voice, a deep, furious malice.

“Stupid fucking woman. I could snap your neck. I could put my hands—”

His hand reached up—

“—On your throat and just—”

It squeezed hard. You jolted and gagged as your airway was cut off.

“I could kill you with my bare hands, right here. Is that what you want?”

You didn't give a verbal response, merely shaking your head rapidly, animal-like whines of fear coming out of your throat.

But that wasn't enough. You heard a low, growl-like sound in your ear, and his voice came out equally so, almost inhuman.

“I said, is that what you fucking want?!”

“No! No, please, Adachi-san, please don't—”

Tears, snot and saliva coated your face. You shook your head, whimpers fragmented by each harsh, rapid thrust that shoved your body forward, each jerk of his arms that pulled you back, and muffled by your asphyxiation.

You could feel his breath on your ear as he continued.

“Then you want me to keep fucking you, don't you?”

It was obvious, of course, that that was what he meant — the only alternative to death. You nodded, choking out your words.

“Yes, please…”

He didn’t respond immediately, moving fast enough that he had to take a few heavy, ragged breaths before hissing the words into your ear through clenched teeth.

“Then beg for it.” His fingers curled further, nails digging into your flesh — yet lightening the pressure on your throat, allowing you to breathe, even if only with heaving effort. “I wanna hear how good you can beg for me.”

You whimpered, mouth hanging open as you tried and failed to summon any words, emotion and stimulus so overwhelming it hindered your ability to even think. His cock stretched you apart, the circumstantial fear causing you to clamp down so hard that he was practically constantly pushing inward with force, rather than your body pulling him in as it might have done with someone you were willingly allowing to do these things to you. Each movement drug against your insides with coarse, burning friction.

He huffed in impatience.

“C’mon. Do it—”

He snapped his hips forward especially harsh, ramming your whole body forward with the force.

“—Like your life depends on it.”

The jerking motion snapped you out of the momentary stupor. Your voice trembled.

“Ah, ah, Adachi-s-san, please, I—”

“Oh, come on. Is that how you call your lover?”

Your brain scrambled to rectify the matter, but he was such a near-stranger to you, you couldn't remember. Maybe he'd said it once, but even as you desperately tried to recall, you couldn't.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I don't… I don't know your…”

There was a pause. You heard the soft, disdainful tch from his mouth.

“Tohru.”

You swallowed.

“T-Tohru…” You squeezed your eyes shut, words coming out uneasy, blatantly forced and foreign. “Please, Tohru, don’t… d-don’t stop, don’t…”

It must have been good enough, as you felt his fingers dig into your hips harder, felt his body shudder against yours.

“Heh… haha…” The amusement in his voice made a bitter burning swell in your chest. “You get off to this, don't you?”

Your mouth opened to protest, to say no.

But you stopped short, a throaty whine coming out of your mouth. Your priority was survival.

You nodded your head.

“’Course you do,” he mumbled, voice growing increasingly husky and laden with labored breaths. He jerked your hair again, pulling you even further towards him, ensuring his chest was firmly pressed to your back. “Little whore… it's always the girls that look so wholesome that are into the freakiest shit, huh."

You could hear the strain in his voice as it began to waver. He leaned in closer, breath hot on your ear.

"This was probably what you wanted, wasn't it? The whole hard-to-get shtick is fun for you, isn't it?"

Once more, you ignored any emotions or knee-jerk reaction of such an accusation, repressed the bitter fury, merely nodded your head. "Mhm, mm..." Your lip trembled, tears leaking out and trailing down your cheeks.

His hips moved faster and faster still, the movement growing frenzied and erratic.

“Of course you’d turn— turn out to be such, such a slut… I knew you’d want it, I knew you—shit—”

He came to a sudden halt, one final jerking pull of your hips to meet his, sheathed fully inside. You felt his cock twitch inside your body.

And then, everything was still.

With the sudden end of the slapping of skin on skin that had reverberated around the room, there was a sudden void of quiet, near silence, barring ragged breathing. You kept perfectly still, the shock and emotion that still coursed through your body so intense, you didn’t even shiver.

Your mind felt as if in a fog, a heavy daze that left you feeling cold and numb, everything felt far away, not real, distant. You kept still, staring forward.

It wasn’t until you felt him slide out of your body, releasing his hold, that you snapped out of the daze, stumbling forward, falling to your knees, legs far too weakened and stiff to support you.

For a moment, you kept your gaze at the ground. You tried to let your mind slip back into the stupor, desperate for some sense of escape, to savor the few precious seconds you could let yourself be anywhere but here, that you could shut him and the reality before you out, that you could delay facing having to look at him again.

But it was only the briefest of seconds before the light from down the hall was cut off again by the shadow looming over you. You began to shiver, chest heaving with breaths that burned your lungs.

Slowly, with eyes and expression blank with the remnant shock and daze, pathetically curled up on the floor, you turned your head upward.

“…Congratulations, Miss Teacher.” You could see the smile once more, the whites of his teeth practically glowing against the shadow, the cruel mockery in his voice crawling under your skin. “You’re way too meek. I've decided killing you would be no fun. Aren't you happy?”

Each gasp for breath burned in your throat, your chest. The words didn’t register immediately — several quiet seconds passed as you slumped over, staring up at him in a dazed stupor, body shivering with aftershock and weariness.

“Th-then… I…” you swallowed, body trembling beyond your control. “I can… go…?”

His eyebrows raised, a momentary look of surprise.

“Huh? Oh, no, no, you—” he cut off with a small bout of laughs, holding his palm to his face and tilting his head upward as if you'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. “Ahaha, don't tell me you actually thought I was just going to let you leave? That's—” He cut off with another laugh.

Your heart felt as if it sank. You felt cold.

And then, he went quiet. He slowly turned his gaze back to you, voice growing lower, quieter, a dramatic ominousness exuding from his body with his words.

“What kind of protector of the public would I be if I just let such a suspicious person walk right out of here?” Hands on his hips and eyes closed, he tilted his head downward and sighed, slowly shaking it back and forth in a mock gesture of exasperation. “You withheld information from the police, regarding a murder at that, and you seem to have knowledge of the killer’s M.O…. that’s what we call a ‘person of interest’ in cases like this, you know.”

And then, despite his momentary attempt at mock seriousness, his restraint seemed to crumble away as the corners of his mouth turned upward, malicious glee breaking through the act. His eyes opened just enough to look at you, narrowed by the grin spreading across his face once more.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to remain in police custody for the foreseeable future.”

You curled in further on yourself, shoulders hunching up, hands curling into fists before you brought them up to your chest in a meek, defensive instinct. Your throat felt dry. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

The way the smile on his face curled further made it clear the despair showed on your face. He chuckled.

“Well, c’mon. Put some clothes on.” He tilted his head in the direction of where they sat on the floor. “You can't walk out there naked.”

Your eyes widened. The words gave you a sinking feeling in your stomach. “…Out… there…?”

He sighed.

“God, you really are dense. Did you not get that? I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t really know what you expected, as the conclusion from his earlier words was obvious, yet hearing him say it so directly made another surge of panic course through your body. Instinctively, and perhaps against better judgement, you shook your head.

“But, but I can’t— I don’t want—”

“…Oh?” His eyes narrowed, unamused and dark expression on his face. “Well, if you don't wanna come with me, then…”

His eyes trailed back over to the television.

Even as exhaustion wore over your body, fear still gripped at your chest, and your answer came on instinct.

“N-no, I'll go with you, I'll…” You swallowed, squeezing your teary eyes shut for a moment before looking back up at him. Your body was shivering. Your next words came out in a hushed, high-pitched whimper, audibly verging on tears. “…I'll go…”

The smile returned to his face.

“Good girl.”

The words made you shudder, revulsion and disgust a twisting feeling in your gut.

After a brief pause, he gestured to your clothes again.

You looked over, but the fear kept you frozen. After a few still seconds, realizing you weren’t moving, he sighed, walking over himself, grabbing the bundle in a few swift motions before throwing the loose pile over to you. You swallowed, hands shaking and dropping the pieces more than once as you forced yourself to put them on, little by little, albeit now dusty, wrinkled and disheveled. You kept your gaze to the floor as you did, but you felt his piercing gaze on you all the same.

And the moment you fastened the last button, with no hesitation, you felt his hand latch onto the back of the collar of your shirt, harshly pulling you upright.

“Come on. Don’t try that stalling shit.” His voice was now impatient, irritated.

You stumbled on shaky legs, forced to grasp onto him to steady yourself. “I, I’m not—” you swallowed. “…Sorry…”

He didn’t respond for a moment, merely wrapping his hand around your upper arm in a tight, bruising grip, jerking you forward harshly. You stumbled as you were rapidly dragged forward, quickly exiting the room, out into the hall.

“And don’t worry,” he spoke again, “I’ve got a nice little closet to keep you in ‘til I can work something better out. Won’t that be nice?”

You didn’t respond, until you felt a sudden harsh squeeze in the grip on your arm. You closed your eyes and nodded. “I, yes…”

He seemed satisfied with the answer, continuing on, “Besides, being a cop has it's advantages. I can get more handcuffs, monitoring devices… it'll work out just fine. And hey, if you're really good, maybe I’ll hurt you a little less, yeah?”

You bit your lip.

It was all happening too fast to sink in, your mind struggled to process. You were leaving, he was taking you, you had to get away, but you had no way to get away, it wasn’t real it wasn’t happening it wasn’t right—

He halted as you reached the front of the police station. The sudden stop made you stumble forward in your momentum, clinging to him to steady yourself once again. You looked up at him in fearful confusion, and he cast another heinous grin down at you.

“Now, I’m not gonna cuff you just yet, ‘case we run into someone, that would give people the wrong idea and all… but don't think about trying to run or scream or some other stupid shit, either. I dunno if you’re dumb enough to think you could outrun me, but…”

He reached his hand over so that the edge of his jacket was brushed back, unveiling the same gun from before that had since been holstered back to his belt.

“Personally, I'm pretty content with the holes you already have… but I'd still be happy to blow a few more into your legs, if need be.” He tilted his head. “And that river down at the edge of town’s real nice and deep, if you decide to go screaming and drag some poor bastard into this. Got that?”

You lip trembled. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

“Good, good. Now…”

He pulled you forward again, the stride bringing you close enough to the front that the automatic doors slid apart. The cool, humid air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, right. One more thing.” He cleared his throat, turned to you with that godawful grin of cruel amusement, and in a mocking, dramatized voice, said, “you have the right to remain silent, miss.”

Your chest burned with fury. Tears welled in your eyes, your face pitifully contorting with bitter anger.

It was the reaction he wanted. He laughed once more, holding the hand that wasn’t gripping your arm up to his face.

“Ah, that’s adorable. You’re fun to mess with, you know… that’s good.”

With that, he drug you forward again, out through the door.

Your shoulders jerked with a silent sob. Your fingers curled into a fist, and your lip quivered as you spoke in a hushed, but hissing tone, filled with fear and hatred.

“You're a murderer.”

You got only a sigh in response.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever.”

With an iron grip on your arm, the police detective led you out into the rural streets, the night air freezing against your bare skin. You followed with stumbling footsteps, legs trembling in trepidation. Unable to do anything but follow.

You realized, as the last strands of hope in your chest faded away, that even if there was someone out there, they might not even see you, with the visibility so low.

Likewise, you turned your head back towards the station, but within just a short distance, it was already completely obscured by the fog.

[glisten-inthedark]

I don't know if I'm more chill about Byler endgame because I have the intel that people didn't have during volume 2 or what, but to any other ending that doesn't involve Byler becoming canon would just make the Duffer brothers the worst writers in the history of ever.

Because what do you mean you have a gay character that doesn't believe he'll get a happy ending only to prove that you know, he's right? How would that make any sense?!

I've said it before and I'll say how many times I have to: They could've made Will in love with literally anyone else. I don't know, some boy from Lenora, some other guy from Hawkings, hell, even Dustin was an option. But noooo, they instead chose to make him in love with his best friend.

They could've presented another male character with Argyle, instead they spent God knows how much money of their budget getting every Byler scene just right. Who would give this much dedication to a sinking ship? Like, they literally talked about how they had to wait during the day just so the lightning was just right during the van scene.

And also, the lighting during the cabin scene as well? Because that must have taken them ages to get it right. For the line to poor down only on Will, and that's not an artificial light, is literally the sun. So you're telling the Duffers were going to waste precious time getting these scenes just right but you know what? They don't mean anything at all, forget about it.

And to further drive the point home, the storyline makes no actual sense from a logical standpoint. Remove Byler. Let's all pretend we don't ship for one second.

Why in the world would they make Will in love with Mike of all people? He could've been gay without having to be that in love with someone. I know I'm repeating myself but I have to because I don't think you guys understand how senseless this plot is if they're not going to do anything about it.

And I mean senseless in the sense that it literally has no use to the plot (that we know of which is why I made that post about how Will's love will be fundamental to the story).

And not only that, not having Mike go with El to the Nina project thingy literally stalled their progression which is a huge deal. I know some people don't like that Byler was removed from the supernatural plot, but I for one think it was a necessary evil to allow Will to explore his feelings and for Mike to miss him.

And to honest, even if the writers are the most douchebags to ever douchebag, it still wouldn't explain the amount of care they took in every Byler scene. It wouldn't explain how whenever we are in Mike's POV, is like he literally sees Will like this shinning beacon of light.

Because if they wanted a quick cash grab on the expense of the queer community, I can assure you there are easier ways of doing it. I remember when I was at the Sterek fandom and J*ff Davis was an ass about the ship during interviews. I remember how Tyl*r P*sey made terrible comments all the while they were clearly using the shippers in the series. And yeah, while I do agree Teen Wolf wasn't necessarily queerbait because there were actual queer couples, it still left a bitter taste on my mouth.

The way they built this, they didn't give themselves an easy way out. It would be one thing if Will was gay but not in love with Mike, it's a completely different thing for him to love Mike so deeply that he's willing to sacrifice his own happiness for him.

The writers made him to me irrevocably in love with Mike. (You don't make her (him) feel like a mistake at all), El (Will) needs you and she (him) always Will. These aren't the words of someone that has a crush or whose feelings are fleeting, these are the words of someone who would rip his heart out just so that the man he loves can be happy.

These aren't the words of someone that can be just be: yeah, I moving on from this. Mike is Will's heart.

So sure, Will needs to discover self acceptance and self love. He needs to recognize that he can be happy and deserves to have happiness, but if that was the entire point all along, he literally could have figured that without having to be in love with his best friend whom he believes will never love him back.

If the sole point of his arc was: Needs to learn how to accept himself for who he is, there are other - less cruel - ways of going about.

Because at the end of the day, making Will to be this deeply in love with Mike only to be rejected is just that: pointless and cruel.

And again. Pointless.

The GA already believes that to be the case, the Mil*evns too, Will also believes that. So why would it be a conflict at all if it was actually the case?

Why would they make a slowburn reaction? Will already thinks he was rejected, that's the thing. He already thinks it's hopeless.

So why would they use the painting? Why would they frame everything as a love triangle? Why not get this shit over already?

Why pair them together with the already canon couples?

At this point I'm just rambling and repeating myself. I'm gonna sleep, but I hope I was coherent enough.

You guys are welcomed to chime in, I love to hear your thoughts on that because I feel like I wrote all of this before but I'll say however many times I have to.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Have you noted that no one from Azula's family was shown to express love and affection towards her?

That is mostly true. Ozai's affection is clearly conditional (and full on manipulation at worse, like we see in the finale), Ursa canonically favors Zuko to the point that we never see her spending any alone time with Azula like she did with Zuko, and while Iroh gave her a toy like he did to Zuko the toy in question was so OBVIOUSLY wrong for a kid like Azula that it's comical AND show's he did not really know his niece at all.

But there is a constant exception.

Zuko's relationship with Azula is complicated. He clearly admires her strength and power, but he hates how she uses it. She lied to him many times, was seen apparently cheering Ozai on during the Agni Kai, tried to have him imprisoned and even said she'd celebrate being an only child - and then allows him to come home as a hero after Ba Sing Se, even though SHE had the control of the Dai Li and was not yet aware Aang could have survived, meaning she had nothing to gain from it.

And when she lets him know that if he's caught talking to Iroh people might think he is a traitor too, and explicitly says "Believe it or not, I'm actually looking out for you" Zuko drops his innitial suspicion that she wanted something and that's why she was helping him.

On The Beach, he just follows her when she say their old family home is depressing and they shouldn't waste their time there. When she's asking him who she is angry at, she mentions herself and Zuko explicitly says that is not the case.

He doesn't trust her and know she has a tendency to mock or full on lie to him... yet when he wants to know about Fire Lord Sozin he asks her about it, and lets it slide when she mocks him by saying he should make sure the royal painter got his good side - for a character as quick to anger as Zuko, that is a big deal. In Nightmares and Daydreams he also goes to her to find out if he'll be allowed at the war meeting.

More importantly:

1 - Iroh's infamous "She's crazy and needs to go down" line was only said because ZUKO, without anyone putting that idea in his head before, suddenly went "I know what you're going to say. She's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her"

2 - Zuko only jumped into the fight in Ba Sing Se when Azula was being cornered by Aang and Katara.

3 - Zuko looked genuinely shocked and even distressed when she was falling off that cliff. He just sounded so shaken saying "She's... not gonna make it..."

4 - In the writer's own words, Zuko felt no hate but only pity when seeing her breakdown. Katara tried to comfort him because, canonically, even though Zuko and Azula are enemies, this was never what he wanted because he still sees her as family. That's why the Last Agni Kai's music is not the epic you'd expect from a battle, but a tragic one.

5 - Aaron Ehasz, the lead writter for the show, probably the person with the most influence after Bryke, has REPEATEDLY said that he always felt Azula should have gotten a redemption arc, Zuko being an Iroh figure to give her advice and be the only one still by her side when all else was seemingly lost to her forever.

Even the comics (most of which I HATE, mainly because Azula's storyline checks nearly every box for "the mentally ill are inherently evil/less human, so it's fine if literally every other person on the planet mistreats them") didn't fully abandon their complex dynamic.

Zuko is not a perfect sibling, and for a long chunk of the story he seemed too focused on his own issues for Azula to ever be a factor in his mind (aside from the moments in which she was a potential/explict threat), but he DOES still feel a sense of obligation towards her, to the point that it made him do something no one else in their family had done before or since - actually look at Azula. Not the prodigious daughter/perfect weapon, or the problem child that is difficult to handle, or the pontentially deadly enemy that was in the way, but Azula.

His 14-year-old sister that got on his nerves a lot, was far from the kindest person alive, and that he had a ton of issues with, but that he could never fully hate or even be indifferent to. Because she's family. Because he remembers a happier time in which the gap between them didn't seem so big. Because if things had been slightly different he could have been her. Because he went from wanting to be her to seeing just how miserable her life ended up being - especially compared to the one he now had - and feeling deeply sorry for her.

Now if you guys excuse me, I'm gonna go cry in the corner. Have some wholesome/bittersweet fanart if you wanna cry too.

[lyriumsings]

The assumptions people are making on Veilguard bc ALL decisions won’t carry over are insane to me “OH so morrigan won’t mention her ONLY SON!! or her roMANCE??”. We have no idea what context or capacity she’s going to be in the game? In skyhold, she stayed at skyhold for a while, so it made sense to chat her up and ask about her life. Also Kieran was THERE bc he was TEN. Kieran is now in his twenties and most likely living his own life. If we’re saving the world and fighting darkspawn WHY would her grown ass son come up? Esp when she doesn’t even know Rook?? Like i would understand if we had veilguard in our hands and people were complaining bc Morrigan actually had dialogue invalidating their canon but for fuck’s sake the game isn’t even out yet. They’re saying it doesn’t matter as in it’s not gonna come up bc Rook is busy doing other shit, rather than quizzing characters who aren’t companions on their lives. “What about Varric”. Varric seems to have a pre-established relationship with Rook which means you can headcanon that they already had the talk about Varric’s life story considering he called them his “second in command”. Like cancel your preorders, preorder, do whatever you want no one on the internet is the boss of you. But oh my fucking god complaining about something you don’t even fully know about is already getting so old. Best case scenario, you’re right and i guess your bitching is validated yay for you ig. Worst case, you’re wrong and like wasted so much time and energy bitching for nothing. Like I completely understand being upset the choices don’t carry over, it IS disappointing! But we don’t even KNOW what it’s going to affect if anything at all. It’s just so funny how everyone was like “it’s not about the Inquisitor” and now that the focus is confirmed to be pretty much entirely on Rook and the inquistor’s choices barely seem to matter in game and half of everybody has lost the plot bc of it and we don’t even actually know how this will affect the game like ????

[theyapper0]

FIRST PART OF "DISHONORED GUESTS"

(A "Welcome to Heaven" rewrite for my Hazbin reimagining)

(Before I get into it, I gotta give some context...

The "Dad Beat Dad" episode didn't happen (bc I don't want Lucifer at ALL in season 1 so there is a better build up to his character. I think he came WAY TOO SOON in canon LOL) 

Charlie doesn't ask Lucifer for the favor to get a meeting to Heaven, instead Alastor encouraged her to contact Adam and DEMAND a meeting as the Heir of Hell) 

(There are also 5 parts to this btw 😋)

____________________

The episode starts w/ a flashback. It's all blurry and all the viewer sees is blurry flashes of colors. 

You can hear Vaggie's voice, she sounds slightly younger. She's shouting out military commands. 

Then you hear another voice, it's the same voice that you heard from the first Episode, the Exorcist Angel that accompanied Adam during Charlie's meeting w/ him (Lute) 

A hand is placed on Silhouette!Vaggie’s shoulder, she's looking up at her, “Easy, soldier”

Lute then tells the rest of the division to “Try not to take the kid to seriously, she still cries about imps under her bed”

There's laughter from a group of Exorcists

Vaggie: UGH!! LUTE!! THEY SAID I COULD LEAD THIS TIME! YOU'RE RUINING IT!!!

Lute laughs, “Okay okay, I'll be quiet. You're doin’ great so far, V. Keep it up”

The dream ends abruptly. Vaggie is woken up to Charlie, who's buzzing around their bedroom. TODAY IS THE DAY THEY GO TO HEAVEN!!!!!!! AAAAHHH!!!! 

Vaggie goes to grab her spear but Charlie puts her hands over hers, “Maybe… don't bring it?”

Vaggie tries to protest, "What if it goes south?”

Charlie: I know but… I wanna make a good impression on Heaven. ‘show them we're not just violent beasts who don't trust anyone

Vaggie hums… 

Charlie: Come on, Vaggie! Nothing bad’s gonna happen! It's Heaven! ^^

Vaggie sighs and lets go of her spear, “Yeah… That's exactly what I'm worried about…”

Her spear is dull anyway, her blade sharpener broke the other day and they haven't had the time (or the money) to get a new one….

Angel, Husk, and Niffty still go to the club with Cherri Bomb

So Charlie and Vaggie go through the portal to Heaven and they walk go the gates of Heaven. 

I'll put the rest under the cut since this is LOOOOOONG

St. Peter isn't there at the gates, Emily is though. She's been waiting for their arrival!!! 

Emily introduces herself as Emily Eveningale!!!! and explains to them her job, making the people of Heaven happy. And then she's like “IT'S SO GREAT TO MEET YOU!!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩”

She explains that the Trial will be starting the moment the clock strikes midnight and that she'll be putting a magic timer on them to ensure they don't forget! 

Charlie's like, “MAGIC TIMER!!!??? SWEET!!!”

But then Vaggie then steps forward and is like, “Yeah, you can just put it on me, we won't be straying too far from each other anyway”

Emily: Ok! 

Emily graces the magic timer on upon Vaggie's wrist. Picture like an animal branding thing. 

Vaggie winces as it's put on.

Emily is like “Yeah, I’m really sorry if the stamp hurt! The trial will be starting at midnight!”

So they’ve got basically the whole day to waste LOL

The Heavenly Gates open and Emily brings them inside, she’s taking them to the Head Seraphim, Sera Eveningale.

So the three are walking through Heaven. Charlie and Emily are yappin’ and yappin’, getting along GREAT!! They meet each other’s energy super well and are basically like two hyperactive puppies at a dog park LMAO!

Charlie and Emily talking 

Vaggie is sota hanging back…. She looks on edge and keeps looking around.

Adam is walking with Saint Peter, they're talking and just having a grand ol’ time. Lute is trailing behind them. (she's still like Adam's bodyguard when she isn't training the Exorcists)

Lute spots them walking past with Emily. She sees stupid shitty fucking Charlotte and…. VAGGIE….. 

Adam looks too, but only focuses on Charlie and Emily. He heard Emily say something like “So what’s Hell like??? :O”!!

He’s not gonna like that.

They get to the Heavenly cathedral (it looks like the one in Hell (where Charlie had her meeting with Adam), just less run down and ugly). It's beautiful!!! 

Sera greets them with as much hospitality as she could muster 

They all talk for a while :) 

“A very interesting belief, the redemption of a Sinner…. And an even more interesting method of doing so with your hotel”

Charlie was gonna go into detail about it but Sera cuts her off and is like “Ah, we can save it for court” 

Sera repeats that the trial starts at midnight. “

“We'll show you to your chambers for the time being” 

So Sera and Emily are leading Charlie and Vaggie to their chambers.

While they're walking there, Emily speaks quietly to Sera… “Can't we give them something…. Nicer?” 

Sera just looks at her and doesn't say anything.

(Keep in mind the title of this episode)

So they get to the chambers and…..

Yeah, it's basically the dungeon in the basement. 

It’s dingy, dark and cold. They don't complain too much bc they're used to stuff like this in Hell but COME ON!!! They just saw a whole bunch of beauty in Heaven, they really couldn't have a nicer room!

Emily is like er… sorry, I wish I could give you a better place to stay. Charlie's like no worries? It's fine! ^^ 

Emily says they don't need to stay here until the trial, I could show you around!!! 

Charlie's like !!! Really!!!!

Emily is like yeah!!! 

Sera: Emily…

Emily: What? Oh come on, Sera!! It's fine! Nothing bad’ll happen! 

Sera is like “ok fine but,” She snaps her fingers and these white cuffs appear on Charlie

Vaggie is like HEY!! GET THAT SHIT OFF HER! 

Sera tells her to relax and is like “dw, it's just Heavenly cuffs. It disables Miss Morningstar’s satanic powers for as long as she has them on” 

Charlie is like “oh nonono I'm not gonna do anything, I swear”

Sera is like I'm sorry but you can never be too careful 

Sera leaves like “see u in court”

Emily hums, slightly annoyed but quickly hides it and smiles again. 

Emily asks Charlie if she's ever been to an aquarium and Charlie is like NO!!!!! Is it really as blue as I've heard?? And Emily is like the BLUEST!!!! 

Emily flies out like “race you outside!!!!” 

Charlie goes to run out but realizes that Vaggie hasn't moved, she's like “U coming, Vags?” 

Vaggie shakes her head and is like “nah, I don't think I wanna see Heaven…”

Charlie laughs, “What? Scared you'll love it and actually give redemption a shot?”

Vaggie smiles and they come closer to each other, she cups her face, “You know I'd never leave you”

Charlie smiles at her and holds her wrists. Vaggie looks down at the cuffs on Charlie and frowns

Charlie: You're worrying, Vaggie. Everything's gonna be okay, I know it

Vaggie hums, “Just be careful, okay?” 

Charlie nods, “Of course”

They kiss.

Charlie: So you're SURE you don't wanna come? I mean, I can stay here with you”

Vaggie looks at her, “Babe, we both know you wanna go see that aquarium, you're literally tap dancing in your spot right now. 

Vaggie: Go. I'd rather stay here :)

Charlie says that she'll bring her back something, from what she saw, the food in Heaven looks DELICIOUS!!! 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

[daenerystargaryen06]

Reasons Why Daenerys Sacrificing Herself is Stupid

So, I have seen from the fandom points on that while people might not believe Daenerys will be killed, she will die sacrificing herself for the good of humanity against the Others in the books. Thus ending her arc in a 'better' manner. Yet this STILL includes harping on a female characters death, even if it is 'heroic', it's still just as bad as contemplating Dany dying by being killed by anything else. Some reasonings based on this theory vary:

-Some say Dany sacrificing herself will be a 'redemption' after she goes mad in the books and burns shit down (which is as ooc as it is and stems off of misogyny).

-Some say it is better for Dany to die sacrificing herself as a hero to rid/atone of the 'sins' of her ancestors (also misogynistic, and stupid.)

-Some say they'd rather see Dany die through self-sacrifice than any other way (but why see Dany die at all? Why not want for her to live happily instead, either as Queen or in a home of her own choosing?)

-Some say Dany will sacrifice herself to Jon as Nissa Nissa for the good of humanity (also misogynistic. Reduces Dany as a character. Dany is Azor Ahai, not Nissa Nissa).

The issue within Dany sacrificing herself overall, is it is an inherently misogynistic act within itself perturbed by those who want it to happen. Either way Dany sacrificing herself makes her a plot device, no matter how it happens. It strips away her character and what she represents.

-Dany sacrificing herself as Nissa Nissa is misogynistic in the way it strips Dany down from her character and simply makes her a tool. A vessel used for 'man pain' and only given a role for the man to be the hero. The woman dies so the man can continue on. She dies for the man and that is her only role in this portrayal. Even if Dany 'willingly' made herself Nissa Nissa and allowed it, overall it leaves a bad taste. It paints a narrative that her only use was for another man. A narrative that she was only useful for being a man's 'lover' and murdered in the end. A piece to be used and tossed away once done with.

Let's face the truth here, Dany is Azor Ahai. Her dragons Lightbringer. Dany does not need to be Nissa Nissa, because she already fulfilled the prophecy. Drogo was the sacrifice in this situation instead of Dany. The roles were reversed.

-Dany sacrificing herself (through battle or other means) also paints a misogynistic narrative. Her being a piece for sacrifice strips her of all her qualities; her intelligence, her ability and skill, her overall character arc and what she has done and achieved. It paints a picture that she is only of use to die. It makes everything she has ever achieved and accomplished and learned wasted on nothing. What is the point of her arc and all that she has learned and done if it's all just going to be wasted on her death in the end? Her apparently 'sacrificing' herself?

I do not see anyone discussed more of sacrificing themselves than Dany. And it's sad how people cannot enjoy a deeply written and amazing character without speculating on how they're going to die. It's sad people cannot enjoy Dany just for what she is without needing to make up theories just for how she will die. Why must she die? Why can't she live and have an accomplished and complete arc that results in her eventual happiness?

-The theory that Dany sacrificing herself for redemption after burning a city (like KL) is gross. Season 8 isn't canon, it isn't a part of G.R.R.M's ending. I highly doubt Dany is just gonna go crazy and start massacring people, when that has never been the point of her character and arc. G.R.R.M paints Dany as a HERO. Her narrative arc overall is that of a heroic one (but that doesn't have to include self-sacrifice done as a 'heroic' or 'redeemable act' either). G.R.R.M has also already denied a theory speculating Dany burning down the Water Gardens, why would he have her burn down KL instead? It makes no sense and would be a very ooc thing for Dany to do (no matter the circumstances). It is again, misogyny, to believe that Dany would just suddenly go crazy and burn shit, only to be able to 'redeem' her actions later by sacrificing herself and getting killed. If I needed that shit of an idea as an arc for Dany in the books, I might as well just ring up D&D and ask them to finish the books instead.

-Dany sacrificing herself to atone for the 'sins' of her ancestors/bloodline is also just as bad. What sins have her ancestors committed that she needs to atone for? I'd say most of her blood already atoned for their own sins given the tragedy that befell many Targs throughout the years. It does NOT fall on Dany to 'atone' for what her ancestors have done by sacrificing herself. There is the saying 'not to judge a person by the sins of their family'. Dany is not her family. She does not need to 'atone' for any sins. I'd say she's already doing a pretty good damn job of it already by upending the slavery economy, and being the person that she is- kind, compassionate, etc.

-As for theorizing she will sacrifice herself because there is no other vision for her death- again, I ask the question: why does she need to die at all?

Dany doesn't need to sacrifice herself. I doubt her arc will lead to that for her end. She is TPTWP, Azor Ahai. Her role against the Others will be one of triumph, not death. Dany is fire, she is life, she is Mother. There would be no point in her entire narrative arc, or even her written existence for that matter being raised up as such a large role, just for her to die in the end through 'self sacrifice'. I am sure many sacrifices will be needed during the Long Night, but Dany won't be one of them.

Let's not forget that Dany is the only person to

-First learn of the Song of Ice and Fire within the books

-Bring dragons back from extinction into the world

-Upend the slave trade/economy to help those enslaved

-Walk through fire to hatch dragons from stone

It is not her role to simply be used and traded off as some pawn for sacrifice. Her role is much bigger than just that. Dany is one of the main central characters within ASOIAF, she is the Fire in the title: A Song of Ice and Fire. Her role is not to sacrifice herself to the Others, but to end the coming darkness and bring Spring.

Dany is a hero, and she will continue to slay. Stay mad about it.

[onesidedradiostatic]

A trembling thought hit me like a freight train, what if the reason the crew went back on saying Al in aro is because he and Vox actually did date?

And then Vox wanted more and they broke up?

Like, I just have a nagging fear that that might come up in season 2 and I really don't know how to feel about it

Like on one hand it should make it easy to clarify that, yes, Alastor really is aro for he gave it a try and found it really wasn't for him

But on the other, what if the crew (or whoever is in charge) is all, "Well he dated once so he can't be aro, therefore he is only ace"

I've seen these kind of conspiracy theories before where people think there's some planned surprise romance plot for alastor and that's why they don't want to confirm him as aro and well.

I disagree.

for in-text, meta, and my own reasons. lemme go through it one by one.

in-text reasons

if we ignore ANY sort of word of god, statements from staff and whatnot, the only thing we have is the rosie dialogue. I've talked about it before, although she only says "ace in the hole", the context in which this is said is the idea of alastor dating charlie, this is a romantic context, and rosie says she's joking because she knows he wouldn't do it because he's an (aro)ace in the hole. the joke here is that alastor brought a girl with him and she's jokingly assuming they're dating (unless we're really thinking she jumped to joking about them fucking). so she KNOWS he wouldn't date and that's the thing, the only way I could see vox and alastor having previously dated and still have rosie say this is if them dating and alastor realising he's uninterested is specifically what got rosie to realise alastor wouldn't do that. otherwise no, it wouldn't make sense to me that alastor would've dated when rosie said this.

meta reasons

old faustisse streams. I'm not a pre-series fan but I've done my research. sure, there's info they've said before that's been deconfirmed but that's because some info from them are stuff they only say they "think" and not stuff that they 100% confirmed with vivzie, just opinions based on what they know about the characters. alastor's aroaceness is different though, faustisse was VERY forward that alastor is AROace and they SPECIFIED vivzie did not want to canonise it because of shipping wars and all that, so I'm fairly sure it's not because of some surprise alastor romance plot. faustisse may not be a 100% reliable source since this is from years ago now but I will say alastor being aroace is about as canon as husk being pansexual. both of this info is from faustisse. arguably alastor being aroace is even more canon than husk being pan because of the rosie dialogue. you can read the transcript of one of the old streams here. don't take this as a necessary reflection of my take on alastor shipping, no, I don't like reciprocated romantic alastor ships. at all. but I also definitely don't think harassment is okay. shippers will exist, and nothing you say will stop them so it's best not to waste your energy shouting at them.

my opinion

first let me say, I DEFINITELY don't like vivzie's choice to not confirm it. I understand yes people can be very aggressive in shipping wars, I understand harassment happens. but. IT IS HAPPENING REGARDLESS. ALL OF THIS IS HAPPENING REGARDLESS. it's just made WORSE by no solid statement on him being aromantic because then there's people who will argue it's not canon. confirming alastor as aromantic will not stop the shippers from shipping or having fun, this is like saying confirming angel dust as gay prevents angel dust x women shippers from having fun. they will exist regardless. confirming alastor as aromantic WILL NOT CHANGE THIS, all it will do is ASSURE aromantic people that they are being represented. all it will do is stop people from saying "alastor is ace not aro!" and acting like alastor being aro is an obstacle to their shipping.

that aside, I'll talk about my opinion on the idea of alastor having dated vox in canon. now, okay, I don't mind the idea if it's done in a very clearly aromantic way and it was just something alastor tried out but didn't like. I would even like it if it was done properly! but I also don't trust vivzie to write an aromantic character in a romantic relationship, so I'd rather it not happen in canon. and I do think vivzie is more likely to not take the risk of trying to write an aro character in a relationship anyways (and if she did I would definitely hope she does lots of research).

also it doesn't really make sense to me why he would try dating with vox instead of like. a woman. like rosie or mimzy. and I don't mean this cause of heteronormative reasons I mean this because alastor is clearly more comfortable with women, it just makes more sense to me that if he were to try out dating it would be with a woman. like... why vox? the only reason I could see it happening is vox is the only friend who tried to confess to alastor and so he decided to try it out cause he was a friend but then didn't like it. that isn't to say I wouldn't enjoy reading about this in fanfics or anything cause I probably would LMAO it's an interesting concept, but doesn't really make much sense to me and I'm not sure if I trust the allo writers to do it in canon.

that's all I have to say.

*mic drop*

[ravensvirginity]

Titans #15 Review

Oh my god. Where do I even begin.

To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.

Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?

First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.

The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.

It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.

All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:

"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."

WHAT?

This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.

The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).

Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.

And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.

And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.

I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello there! I wanted to pop in and say your headcanons and imagines literally up my day. I’m always excited to read them. Thank you for spending your time on them and sharing them with us all!

If I could throw in an ask, how about Lucifer with a sinner who was a parent? Keeping it gender neutral for everyone else out there. I’m imagining reader died protecting their kids, but murder is murder even when protecting your own. So Hell. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It can be romantic or platonic or both. Your choice. But I haven’t seen any asks like this, and I know I would burn down a village for my little ones.

If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.

You met Charlie first. You wanted to get redeemed, go to heaven, and see your children again. They were why you were in hell in the first place, after all.

It was easy to love Charlie with her innocence and child-like wonder.

You two bonded fast and you listened when she would let down her guard and let slip the more well hidden parts of her complicated relationships with her parents.

You wasted no time taking her under your wing and helping her even though when you let her she was insistent that she’d be the one helping you.

That dedication to Charlie is what at first drew Lucifer’s gaze to you.

You weren’t overt about your close relationship like Alastor. You didn’t try to taunt him with it but he did notice how you lingered close to Charlie at first and how she kept looking to not just her girlfriend but you for reassurance.

Once Charlie and Lucifer started to mend their relationship with one another, you and Lucifer began to spend more time together.

Slowly through the shared love of Charlie and bonded time away from her doing activities for the Hotel, you became close.

Lucifer couldn’t understand why you were in Hell though. You were so kind and generous and unlike most sinners he’d met.

When you explained you’d killed someone to protect your children but died soon after, he understood.

His admiration for you only grew.

You soon realized you could freely talk to Lucifer about your children and your life and that he loved to hear it.

You’d swap stories about child rearing and you learned many things that you knew Charlie would be embarrassed by and adamantly deny happened.

You gave him as much advice as you could and he found it helping his relationship with Charlie.

Charlie was just happy to see that Lucifer made some connections, specifically with you as one of her favorite people.

If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.

[wrathkitty]

Story/Series Masterlist

Hellooo! Thanks for stumbling onto this. My fandoms primarily are The Mandalorian and Star Trek: TNG, but there's also The Last of Us, Avengers, Portal 2, and The Good Place. I try to stick as closely to the original source material as possible, I know the canon and the characters, and probably throw in more Easter eggs and other blink-and-you'll-miss-it references than I should.

If you're one for strong and snarky Readers/OFCs (here there be swearing), slow burns (envision a glacier), angst (it's a good kind of pain), and humor (lulz), then this is probably a good place to come waste some time. 👻

* Current works in progress *

Short Debts Make Long Friends - (The Mandalorian; Din Djarin/Reader)

An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure. 1.6k kudos on Ao3. POV Mando and Reader.

Why Don't You Sit Right Down and Stay Awhile - One-shots from "Short Debts" that admittedly are the walking definition of 'crack treated seriously'

- Can Your Helmet Play Elevator Music? - Oh, This is Much Worse- ...It was a Custom Piece

Completed stories:

Hello, My Dear - (Star Trek: TNG; Reader/Q)

Stories of the life and times of Q and his mortal more-than-just-a-friend, Ensign Reader. Because being omnipotent doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to relationships. POV Q and Reader.

As Q Like It - One-shots from "Hello, My Dear," which primarily remain within in TNG but also wander into Voyager and other territories, but none beyond the Neutral Zone

- Shoo, Q! - TNG; Lower Decks; POV Ensign - Does the Other Party In This Scenario Go By Some Form of Epithet, Identification, or Nomenclature? - TNG; POV Data - You Have Three Choices - TNG; POV Q - That Wasn't the Actual Question - TNG; POV Reader - Do I Always Have to Have a Reason to Stop By? - TNG; POV Reader - I Haven't the Vaguest Idea of What You're Talking About - TNG, POV Q - Silver Q - Picard, POV Q

To My Brother, Thor, Whom I Slept With - (Avengers; Loki & Thor)

One-shots about the shenanigans of a young Loki and Thor, and why the young princes of Asgard are the best birth control ever. Primarily Loki's POV, but also occasionally POV Odin and Frigga regretting their choices)

- Great Aunt Snotra's Funeral- A Midnight Lesson in the Current Events of Midgard - The People vs. The Brothers Odinson, or That Time Loki Thought It Was a Bright Idea to Appear on Daytime TV - One Flew Over the Ravens' Nest (Even the Gods Can Be - Psychoanalyzed)

Come Downstairs and Say Hello - (Portal 2; Chell/Wheatley)

With Wheatley in tow, Chell might as well write "DISPENSE PRODUCT HERE" on her shirt and throw herself in front of a turret...but she can't leave him behind, either. POV Chell, Wheatley, and GLaDOS.

Other works in progress that I don't have the heart to admit to myself are probably on permanent hiatus:

Bang, Zoom, Straight to the Moon - (The Last of Us; Joel/OFC)

Joel has been more than happy to let Ellie sabotage his love life since their arrival in Jackson, but all bets are off after she learns that the town’s most recent arrival is a former astronaut. The new gal is smart, single, pretty, and good with a gun. And she’s gone to mother *fucking* space. Joel POV.

Lucky Denver Mint - (Logan Lucky; Clyde Logan/OFC)

The stars over Boone County never looked brighter than the night a pretty astrophysicist walked into Clyde Logan’s bar. Clyde POV.

The Sleazy Place - (The Good Place)

The possibility of Michael never making into the Good Place is why Janet [literally] reassemble the Soul Squad - and what they owe Michael is why Eleanor doesn't hesitate to team up with her friends one last time to try and save their favorite former fire-squid. Eleanor POV. ...She just needs to finish that margarita first.

Like what you see? Please reblog and comment! I love comments.

[omamorens]

Do you have any HCs with Ivy and Ink Blade?

OH BOY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. ivy is a very interesting character to me (fhjy spoilers: and im glad she survived). tho people might not really like her that much, i think shes neat and could have a lot of nuances if her character could be explored enough

ivy (pre and post shatter-star) is a regina george mean girl but with pop-punk rock aesthetics.

she’s a girls girl and much like her canon, she loves fashion.

loves fashion in a sense that she loves it for Herself and not because she wants to impress anyone.

she does not give a shit about what anyone thinks of her actually, and that generally comes off as “mean”.

ivy only sees her attitude as a filter for those too weak to be acquainted with her.

though she has a hard exterior, she does have a soft spot for those who could actually stick by her.

riding off on that “loves fashion” part, i think ivy is particularly good at finding good deals and the best bargains. she doesn’t go for the most expensive stuff because that’s just wasteful.

she’s the type of friend you want to go to the flea market with because this girl drives a hard bargain.

riding off of that, ivy always takes oisin out to shop because there’s not a lot of dragonborn-proof clothes for him so when they do find stuff, its too expensive to be worth it unless ivy is the one bargaining for him.

oisin is always grateful of her for it.

in her shatter-star state, ivy’s “mean” attitude got nastier and more cruel

ivy has a hard time asking for forgiveness (oisin will tell you that she almost never says the word “i’m sorry” genuinely), but she does it in her own way.

sometimes when she passes by mazey in the halls, ivy genuinely compliments the bard on her badidas.

“nice shoes. they’re the 90’ exclusive line, right? those were the best quality shoes they released. such a shame their next series went downhill from there.”

mazey, apprehensive of ivy at first but open to having this conversation with her, “no, yeah, you’re absolutely right. these are the only pairs i can both dance and fight in. its been a year but theyre still going strong.”

and the girls continue talking about finding the best deals and the most practical clothing they could have as adventurers. fabian is not very happy about this.

mazey of course is not required to forgive ivy for things she said and done, and ivy is not at all actively seeking for verbal forgiveness anyway

but they can be courteous to each other and bond over similar interests

lucy, being a frost genasi, absolutely knows how to knit. she knits her own clothes sometimes because not much clothing items in stores have her size.

when ivy found out about this during freshman year, ivy asked lucy to teach her and they absolutely bonded over knitting.

at some point both the girls have knitted some stuff for all the members of their party.

everyone still keeps their knitted gifts, even if they’re frayed or have grown too small for them to use.

surely i will have more to write on her character but for now these are what i have on the top of my head. ivy embra they dont get you like i do (ivy hcs with inkblade i will continue in another post because this one got too long)

[bibibbon]

WARNING!!! INCOMING YAPPING SESSION!!! PROCEEDED WITH CAUTION!!!

i could’ve written bakugo so much better just by drawing from personal experience istfg.

it’s sorta implied that inko and mitsuki were friends and thats why bakugo and deku were friends, and i had the same thing with one of my old childhood friends.

out of the two of us she was the ‘izuku’ and i was the ‘bakugo’. she was nice, sweet, and over all just a perfect kid with no obvious flaws. but i was rude, loud, and overall just a very difficult child. and i resented her for being so perfect. when i was maybe 8 or 9 our family’s had a big falling out and i haven’t spoken to her in like 10 years.

now, if we took that and expanded upon it, their story would look something like this.

bakugo always being compared to izuku. ‘izuku is so sweet! why can’t you be like that katsuki?’ and one day deciding ‘well, if i can’t be nice like him, i’m just going to be better than him'

and bakugo didn't even have to become his bully! they could’ve just drifted apart after a big fight and then UA having them come back together!

like c’mon hori please use your brain for two seconds

There are so many ways to write bakugos character differently than what horikoshi did.

I remember coming across an interview where horikoshi says he regrets making bakugo do and say what he did in the beginning of the manga to izuku and bakugo did gain a lot of popularity so after that horikoshi had to change bakugos character and give him a "redemption" arc that wasn't done well because he refused to give izuku agency and actually have Izuku go through complex emotions against bakugo so he just focused on bakugo and how he changed.

However, by doing that horikoshi also forgets to develop bakugos character outside of izuku and so he feels like he is just there attached to almost every arc and izuku instead of being a complex individual character that the fans are supposed to have mixed opinions about.

Your rewrite is a lot more realistic and gives us a proper reason as to why bakugo maybe distant with Izuku that canon doesn't. Realistically, in canon bakugo has everything a good quirk, people admiring him, a healthy body, good family and he is well of however izuku doesn't have that. Izuku is quirkless, with an "impossible" dream (or what others thought was an impossible dream), an absent father, a neglectful mother and he is being bullied.

I do remember talking about some of the wasted potential within bakugos character especially the prototype version of him.

[reignof-fyre]

I despise how the writers/whoever the fuck is in charge of cutting scenes keep cutting important, vital moments of these characters lives/personalities.

People who have read fire and blood know that Daemon is a morally grey anti hero who has his own unique moral compass, and we know he is ride or fuckin die for rhaenyra and their kids. He loved his brother, and he never even entertained the thought of a usurpation.

The show has scrapped all moments that show the good side of his character. Him hugging his girls in their shared grief? Nah, let's cut it. Daemon interacting with his own and Rhaenyra's children? It's not important because aegon the raping usurper chucking a wank out the window is somehow more important? Daemon being ever by rhaenyras side during the birth and aftermath of Visenya? No, let's have him chill elsewhere. Daemon wanting to burn KL down when in the source material it was RHAENYS who wanted to immediately go to war and slaughter the greens willingly.

DAEMON BEING THE ONE TO KILL RHEA? WHEN? WHERE? BOOK! DAEMON WOULDN'T WASTE THE ENERGY OR BREATH IT WOULD TAKE TO KILL RHEA ROYCE LMFAOOOOOO

Also Daemon losing he and Mysaria's unborn baby was a fucking VITAL MOMENT IN HIS LIFE OKAY?! BECAUSE THE MISCARRIAGE WAS VISERYS' FAULT!!!!!

Book Rhaenys would slap Show Rhaenys and HUCK-TEW on her, y'know? (I love eve best thought she is my MOTHERRRRRRRR)

Cutting rhaenyra - who canonically in the book demanded Vaemond's death - ordering Vaemond executed and fed to Syrax?

RHAENYRA NOT TRUSTING DAEMON????? BITCH WHEREEEE THE FUCK???? SHE TRUSTED HIM WITH HER WHOLE ASS OKAY FUCK OFF

Book Rhaenyra would feed show rhaenyra to syrax fr

Removing any and all agency from female characters? Brother euuughhh

The showrunners made the Velaryons POC for inclusively then CUT THE LAENAXRHAENYRA FRIENDSHIP FOR A WHITE WOMAN WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT BRUH? WHAT? RHAENYRA AND LAENA HAD ONE (1!!!!!) INTERACTION IN THE SHOW!!!!

i actually like Book!Alicent because she isn't a 2d uwu poor abused by the patriarchy little bitch like she is in the show. In the book she KNOWS she's smothered by the patriarchy and USES HER SEX AGAINST THEM. She MARRIED the king WILLINGLY for POWER AND AMBITION and WHOLEHEARTEDLY orchestrated her sons usurpation. She played the game of thrones with her whole ass fuckin soul. I can RESPECT THAT. What I don't respect is show alicent playing the fucking victim and "Oh noooooo 🥺🥺🥺 everything was my daddy's fault. I have no say in anything. I'm just a wittle baby puppet that HAS to dance to my daddy's tune...."

I'm just so exhausted with show runners and writers butchering characters I ADORE with my whole fuckin ass honestly.

[lovecolibri]

The only thing I'm going to say about this (<- probably lying) is that it doesn't matter how Buck felt in that scene. Because Buck isn't real and doesn't actually have feelings. What DOES matter is how it comes across to the audience. And if the vast majority of the audience had an "what the fuck is this and why is it happening like this?" reaction and that was NOT the intention of the scene? Then it wasn't done well.

You should not have to come out after the episode and explain what the scene was supposed to do. If you have to, then you have failed in your job to get across to the writers, directors, and actors what the point and purpose is. And maybe you have failed to take into account what the characters are like, their trauma histories, and how the audience might react given their knowledge of the characters involved.

A lot of people never forgave tay kay for what she did to Bobby in s2, and then having Buck Begins give us this raw, vulnerable version of Buck and his childhood only to have her lash out a couple of eps later calling him "needy" and a bad friend because he asked something of her instead of just being there to give her whatever she wanted? It's no surprise fans and the general audience never got on board with that relationship. Because it wasn't good to BUCK and that's what the audience wants.

I am personally continually BAFFLED that this show gives these moments of gentle teasing and support and validation of Buck's feelings (even when he can overreact a little out of trauma response) to Eddie, and then continually put Buck in romantic relationships with people that don't even seem to LIKE him, much less adore all his quirks and the things that make him BUCK, and most importantly, the things the AUDIENCE loves about him.

It's.....it's almost like Tim isn't even trying. Because the audience isn't SUPPOSED to like these relationships for Buck. Because they aren't the right ones for him. Because we all know who is.

But also, at some point it starts getting questionable as to why the people that love him don't speak up to express concern about him staying in long term relationships with people that are not nice to him. We all know the bait-and-switch of tay kay in s4 being a FOX network call to shut down what Tim wanted to do, and then he left the show with someone who doesn't like, see, or care about Buddie (or really any of the main characters that aren't Angela to live out some revenge fantasy or Buck to live out...other fantasies). So they couldn't very well have all of the firefam desperately asking Buck if he was even happy as he wasted away in that loft all season, or even allow them to be kinda pissed he would choose to be with someone like that who nearly got Bobby killed by not telling someone immediately and interviewing him without consent, but it never sat right with me that it was all just never addressed and they had them breakup on good terms (sorry not sorry but if you think T*mmy isn't nice to Buck, tay kay was worse in every way and thats canon fact).

So I don't have super high hopes that they will address this clear and obvious disconnect with Buck and T*mmy, but considering they made a point to have nearly all their screentime revolve around Eddie, and them not meshing as a couple it would be weird NOT to. Then again, *gestures to all that rambling above*

ANYWAY

The point it, at SOME point the audience does have to be a consideration because without an audience you do not have a show. So Tim needs to shake off the last of the Lone Star cobwebs, get KR the fuck out of the writers room, and make sure his intentions for scenes are ACTUALLY what make it onto the screen, and that what is on screen is stuff that will resonate positively with the audience. Maybe he should rewatch the first 3 seasons of the show himself to get back into the groove.