#he just chooses to do it anyway. that's why he calls himself “despicable”

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Shigure's relationship with Kyo drives me crazy. he doesn't hate Kyo in the slightest - in fact, he pities Kyo, and not in the condescending "oh you poor little boy, cursed to be a horrible, disgusting monster" sort of way that everyone else does. Shigure pities Kyo for the reason he should be pitied: he's just a kid caught up in a system so inhumane it can't possibly be survived without some seriously unhealthy coping mechanisms.

and it drives me crazy because - listen, Shigure is the only zodiac member who's emotionally aware enough to see the other zodiac members as exactly what they are. he knows Yuki is a severely traumatized kid who projects all of his self-hatred on a single convenient target. he knows Akito is really a scared little girl with a raging god complex (literally) and no concept of a healthy relationship. and he knows Kyo is a regular-ass human being who doesn't deserve to be locked up for the rest of his life just because some arbitrary system says so. he KNOWS it's stupid. he KNOWS it's ridiculous and unfair. and he has to share a house with Kyo knowing that Kyo is living with a sword over his head, hating himself and hating others in perfect tandem because he has no other way of coping with the insane amounts of negativity he's had to deal with his entire life.

but the thing about Shigure is that he KNOWS all of this, and the same time he doesn't really CARE. he feels sorry for Kyo, but an apathetic sort of pity, a disinterested "this is how it is. such a shame." sort of pity. in some ways he's worse than the other zodiacs because he DOES see Kyo as a person, someone he likes being around even, but he still considers Kyo below his attention because all his focus is on Akito and breaking the curse. and sure, once the curse is broken Kyo will theoretically be set free with the rest of them, but that's more of a coincidental side effect than anything. despite being in a much more dangerous and precarious mental space AND comfortably in Shigure's reach, Kyo is about as much a priority for Shigure as Ritsu or Momiji.

and it drives me CRAZY because i think Shigure does start actively caring about Kyo as the series goes on, but it's hard to tell when that happens and to what extent. when Kazuma told Shigure he planned to reveal Kyo's true form and Shigure said he was going too far - whose sake was it for? was Shigure trying to protect Kyo, who would be hideously traumatized/emotionally scarred by such a cruel betrayal? was he trying to protect Kyo and Tohru's relationship, which was still formulating and might, under such severe testing, ultimately end up damaged beyond repair? was he only trying to protect Tohru, who wasn't ready to be burdened by such a horrible aspect of the curse so soon, or perhaps simply didn't deserve it? or was it all for the sake of himself, trying to protect his still-forming plans of using Tohru's positive effect on the Sohmas to break the curse?

Shigure cares about Kyo, but they're not close and Kyo clearly isn't a priority. he treats Kyo like a person - offering him genuine advice, teasing him like he teases anyone else, even speaking up on his behalf once or twice - and yet he's too entrenched in the long game to spare much active interest in Kyo. for a very long time, he doesn't care about Kyo the way he cares about Yuki or Tohru, and it's never made clear when exactly that changed. and the thing that gets me about this whole situation is that right from the start, Shigure is in a position where he can meet Kyo at his level - as equals, just one human being to another - but he doesn't, because Shigure is a chessmaster, Shigure is someone who observes and calculates, Shigure never steps in unless one of his chess pieces makes a wrong move and he absolutely has to.

it drives me crazy. Shigure drives me crazy. this series drives me so so crazy.

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Simon: hero vs boy  

I started writing this without a point really, but I think I found it along the way… maybe. Anyway. 

Simon goes along with traditional hero narratives by slaying monsters, especially when it’s linked to saving a damsel. His powers would make him comparable to superheroes – he’s practically perceived as such by his peers – yet he goes against it with the ease with which he kills. Saving the day (saving people) by itself meets the definition of a hero, and he’s genuinely good. But when you get down to it, why is he a hero? Because he was told to be one. Many get training and mentors, but there’s usually a calling involved, a struggle where heroism is an active choice they make. Simon doesn’t choose: he’s programmed to follow orders and rules, and he finds purpose by succeeding in his tasks. Part of it not being a choice is that Simon doesn’t believe there’s anything to choose. He doesn’t think there’s anything outside of the “golden destiny” … other than death.  He makes sense of the world by reframing it into simplistic good vs evil, in the way he has been told to. In some ways, he gains the most when he thinks he has lost it all: it sends him on a path to truly find himself and choose, free of outside influence. 

As readers, we don’t care about the nameless henchmen, the questionable nobodies with non-existent development, but the existence of Baz alone suggests both Penelope and Simon, in their role of heroes, have killed intelligent beings with “a soul” – murder more comparable to killing humans – without thinking twice. The story avoids ever questioning them in such a way (closest it gets is Baz acknowledging Simon can’t let himself think about everything/everyone he has ever killed) likely because they’re virtually brainwashed kids who don’t know any better, so the bigger questions are different (and the books tend to keep it light with that kind of thing, it's not a focus). It also avoids it by generally operating with action movie rules: action hero kills humans, sure, but we don’t care if Evil Henchman No. 5 drops dead – the only thing defining them are despicable actions. Simon kills Evil Monster No. 2 because it’s sexually harassing his boyfriend, and you were probably thinking “as he should” before you even finished reading this sentence. 

In his chosen one days, Simon operates in a way that’s familiar to superheroes: saves the girlfriend from danger, but constantly “chooses duty” over “having a life” (with the girlfriend being “life”). There’s a lot at play behind the scenes when keeping a love interest around the hero, but here is them resisting the realization that they’re miserable and gay and directionless when they’re not doing what they’re told. It’s not Simon being a hero what kills that relationship – it was dead on arrival. It would have never worked regardless – Simon cares about what he thinks the relationship would give him rather than the relationship itself. It’s not his “duty as hero” what “pushes him to let it die.” (Also: the tropes and archetypes themselves are a big part of why that relationship existed in the first place)

However, as the structure Simon has been living by falls apart (starting from “his enemy” not showing up) things change. When Simon can’t listen to anyone and rushes to Watford toward the end of CO, that’s not a hero rushing to save the day. The hero believes he has just been told he’s the true villain of the story (he’s not) but at its core, this is just a boy who believes he did something horribly wrong, and that it’s up to him to fix it. 

In his role of hero, Simon is quick to think the worst of Baz, because it has been decided that he’s his enemy (he's quick to reframe everything he sees about Baz, because he does see it, that indicates Baz is never truly bad). As he frees himself from roles and finds himself, and the wall that used to separate him from Baz falls apart, he sees him fully. He can’t think badly of him then. (He's ready to free all that information he already had on Baz, he has "observed his soul"). The chosen one would’ve gone for the less charitable interpretation of the events (Baz “purposely pushing him down the stairs”) but Simon sees him exactly for what he is (he’s just a boy, it was an accident) or goes for the kindest interpretation (supporting Penny in her refusal to judge Baz, seeing him as another kid being used by adults – just like Simon and her – with the Pippa incident.) 

And speaking of it: Pippa’s “tell Simon I say thank you” stands out to me (thank yourself girl!) because similarly to Penny paying attention to her with her ring ready to strike, that’s a boy who would not hesitate to tackle her ass if she moved funny around Baz. As happy as having the role used to make Simon, he’s no longer defining himself as a hero. His priorities are not to be heroic (as shown by how he walks away from whatever the fuck happened with the Vegas vampires iirc) but simply in protecting his loved ones, and the people his loved ones care about. His image as hero likely remains in Pippa’s head – likely part of why she liked him, and perhaps reinforced in part by her getting her voice back (in more than one way) when he appears in her life again. But if it came down to it, the only thing that would have stopped Simon ("the hero”) from fighting/restraining her (”the victim/wronged party”) would’ve been Penny knocking her out first. He would not be on her side here. This is an “ugly” thing to consider in heroic narratives, but it’s a human thing. Simon is no superhero, nor is he trying to be: he’s just a boy. 

Baz’s goodness and kind heart means he’s not going to put Simon in a position where he has to choose between what’s “good” and him regardless, it’s part of what Simon recognize's (Baz's goodness) as he falls in love with him (he has observed his soul, he refuses to let Baz think of himself as evil or monstrous once he’s no longer blindly operating as chosen one) (and Penny is right anyway). But this instance shows how Baz’s self-destruction means the people who love him, his chosen family (Penny and Simon) will do anything to protect him, especially when Baz is his own enemy. They will be fierce, and they will be selfish. They won’t leave room to consider anyone else – they will be human. In an ideal world, Simon will be left alone to live his life like a regular person (as regular as he can be, anyway) but I think the Simon he’s discovering is the type where what matters is not saving the day, but keeping his loved ones protected. More specifically, Simon has chosen Baz as his priority, and he has decided that keeping him happy and safe comes first. Heros might not prioritize the “love interest” (unless a specific story requires it, but that’s another conversation) they might sacrifice their personal lives for their duty, but for Simon, his relationship with Baz is what matters most. There’s no “duty” that comes before it. Sure, he’s no longer in a position where he has to choose, but if he had to, if he was pushed to think about what he wanted instead of what he was supposed to do, I think the choice would remain the same. The world can burn down, and maybe he can’t do a thing, but he’ll be alright as long as his loved ones are by his side (he says as much with "I have lost it all but I still have Baz, so I still feel like I got the better end of the deal") 

[melonteee]

I enjoyed OPLA and really did like some of the changes they made but now that it's marinated in my brain a bit. It's hard out here being a Sanji enjoyer fr

I feel like it didn't really show his sensitivity and vulnerability. You said something about Baratie arc feeling like a checklist and GOD yeah it really felt like that :'D I always forget the Mihawk fight happened there honestly and am disappointed that parts of the episodes were dedicated to tension between Nami, Luffy and Zoro about the duel rather than... you know... blorbo from my shows

He really did feel like a side character to his own story cause some of the most memorable things about him were completely missed or skimmed over. I h8 that he just talks about the All Blue and it's not that goofy smile from the animanga. Also that he doesn't watch the fight or have this moment of "wait, my dream is worth fighting for". It's kinda said to our face that "he doesn't leave cause he owes Zeff" but I don't feel it the same way I do in the animanga. I have so many weird feelings cause I love some aspects to OPLA. But as a Sanji fan, I'm sad that he's kinda barely in it? And that what they left in were just surface level observations about him: "he's a chef who fights and flirts" um, where's that self-loathing and self-destructive kindness huh??

At least he calls Zoro mosshead once though and I got the joy of replaying that scene in different languages and now know what "mosshead" is in a plethora of languages.

...also have you seen the YOUTOOZ figures for OPLA cause I'm haunted

I just...everyone was stripped of character but Sanji and Usopp were especially so ruined I really do not understand it. Like I'm sorry, using Sanji's pain and trauma as a lesson for Luffy IS a despicable way to frame it, even worse with Luffy not even ACKNOWLEDGING IT??

One's pain in One Piece does not exist to teach any other characters a lesson, Sanji starving on a rock for 2 months does not exist so he can just tell Luffy how hard it is to be a captain. Which doesn't even make SENSE because Zeff wasn't even SANJI'S CAPTAIN AT THE DAMN TIME. NOR HAS HE EVER BEEN?

I feel crazy because everyone seems very lukewarm on it, and maybe I am just insanely attached to Sanji and feel greatly touched by his story, but is using a character's original written trauma as a plot device for ANOTHER character not insulting? Is there ANY respect for Sanji's 2 months of hell there? There's a damn good reason Sanji's story existed to be his OWN and not a motivational speech for LUFFY??

Imagine if Zoro was like "My best friend died, changing the course of my life and putting me through a grief so heavy I now carry her dream with me. Sometimes death of a loved one is an inevitable factor" and Luffy's like "L+ratio+I would kill MY best friend for Sanji" LIKE...WHA....

This is pure insanity I feel like I'm being shot left and right with everything I hear, like I'm glad people are enjoying bits and pieces, truly, but the flaws and disrespect of original character are just so apparent they're doing my head in - especially with how tons of people are choosing to just ignore it.

They tried to give Luffy this weird Water 7 moment, where he had to learn how to be a captain, but this script failed to consider Luffy had to learn that HIMSELF of his OWN circumstances and decisions with Usopp. Yes he was helped by Zoro in Water 7, but Zoro didn't suddenly just trauma dump about how awful a past he had for Luffy to go "Cool. ANYWAYS!" LIKE I JUST...REALLY? Am I crazy or overly biased or what because god damn I'm just jaw dropped at all of this fhgkd

The Baratie is meant to be Luffy witnessing SANJI'S character, and learning of SANJI'S personality and morals - with Sanji then being inspired from Luffy. Where was that? Where was any of that? Why was Sanji's kindness, stubbornness and self-sacrifice side-lined for a character we've been with LONGER at that point to get a bigger spotlight? It's so weird I don't GET IIIIT DFGHJKD

HOWEVER, yes I have seen the merchandise and it scared me KHDFGJKD sorry for that I...truly had a lot of thoughts hhh

[musclesandhammering]

On Loki’s “Adoption”

It’s great that the majority of Loki fans agree that Odin was a dick, but it also pains me that so many of them don’t seem to grasp how much of a dick he was.

People always talk about Loki finding out about his heritage in terms like “He was raised to hate the frost giants so when he found out he was one, it fucked him up. Odin should’ve told him he was adopted and stopped the anti-jotun propaganda.” Which?… Ok, yeah. Definitely. But that whole statement is just hugely sugar-coated. Allow me to explain.

First of all, he wasn’t “adopted”. No matter what Odin’s motivations were, Loki’s biological parents weren’t there at the exact moment Odin found him, so there’s no way Odin could’ve known without a doubt that Loki had been abandoned. So here’s a child whose parents are still alive, are still in the same realm, and haven’t directly stated that they don’t want him… and Odin took him anyway. Just… based on his own assumptions, without consulting the baby’s literal parents who are literally right there, Odin just grabs a baby and runs. ..That’s called kidnapping, good sir. It’s a war crime. You know, like all the other war crimes he’d just got done committing like 10 minutes prior. Loki was not a child adopted from another realm, he was a spoil of war. “Another stolen relic” indeed.

Now, let’s move on from that. We know damn well Odin did not take Loki because he felt compassion for him. Even Loki knew that was bs as soon as he heard it, and Odin even admitted that he had ulterior motives. After all, after murdering a large chunk of their population, Loki couldn’t possibly have been the first child left in dire conditions that Odin came across. So why, out of all those poor jotun babies, did Odin only choose to help the king’s son? What a coinky-dink. No, Odin had a scheme going on, and if there’s any truth to what he said in the Vault, his intention was to use Loki to force a permanent alliance between Asgard and Jotunheim. Considering that I don’t think Odin’s demented enough to try to make Loki marry one of his biological family members, that leaves only a few options. Either 1.) he was going to implant Loki on the throne of Jotunheim as a puppet king 2.) he was simply going to announce to Loki and the jotuns alike that he was one of them and try to use that as leverage to forge ties 3.) he was going to use young!Loki as a hostage to broker peace with Laufey. I personally think option 1 is the most likely, but all of them have a few things in common: they’re gross, colonialist schemes that manipulate and abuse both the jotuns in Jotunheim and the jotun in Asgard by grooming him to hate his own kind and then eventually using that hatred to convince him to act as Odin’s tool toward finally conquering them in full. Pure malicious manipulation intended to cripple both the frost giants and Loki himself, all so that Odin could expand his empire and get back at an old enemy that had the gall to resist him.

All of this is not even to mention the practical disadvantage Odin put Loki at just by bringing him into Asgard. He’s not just a different race, he is a different species. First off, Odin violated his bodily autonomy hugely by changing his skin as an infant. Even with him doing that, though, it’s highly likely that at least some of Loki’s natural biological differences would’ve come into play, like, eventually. Asgard is way warmer than Jotunheim- and we know jotuns are fundamentally creatures of ice anyway- so how uncomfortable could the Asgardian climate have been for Loki? Jotuns probably have vastly different diets than Asgardians- the fact that Laufey had sharp teeth in Thor 1 makes me think they probably eat a lot more meat- so did Odin cater to a Loki’s dietary needs specifically? I doubt it. We know Loki never got much bigger, but what if he had? Did Odin have a plan at all for how to deal with that? Not to mention just the shear level of otherness Loki would’ve felt, even if just subconsciously.

So, on top of finding out that he is the thing he was taught to hate and that his parents aren’t his biological parents and that said adoptive parents have in fact been lying to him his entire life… he also has to deal with the fact that he was kidnapped as a war trophy, and that the man he’s been calling father actually decimated his home world and his native people before taking him, and that he has a family out there that he knew nothing about (they might’ve discarded him as Odin said or maybe Odin lied and they loved him, how is Loki supposed to know?), and that his family allowed him to be exposed to all the anti-jotun sentiments intentionally when he was growing up possibly to further indoctrinate him against his own race, and that he was never even in the running for the asgardian throne but his dad told him he was anyway to goad him into competing with Thor, and that he was being groomed his entire life to be used as a weapon by his “father” against his real father, and that his entire place in the Odinson family and in Asgard hinged on his usefulness in further dominating and destroying his birth family and birth realm, and that no matter what he did a large chunk of the people around him were always going to hate him simply because of natural differences that were due to his fundamental being… it’s just- it’s so much more than adoption revelations and bad parenting. What Odin and Frigga did to Loki was illegal and extremely morally wrong and, quite frankly, just despicable.

Side note: this kinda reminds me of the movie Tangled, actually. Rapunzel’s story is eerily similar to Loki’s- taken as a child by a greedy and narcissistic yet powerful figure, raised as said figure’s own child just so the figure could exploit her for their own selfish gain, taught all her life to fear her actual family/people just to keep her loyal to her “parent”, parental figure turns to aggression and gaslighting anytime she gives any pushback… That’s actually pretty uplifting, though, because it further validates his place as a Disney Prince/Princess 😌.

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[kuroos-moon]

Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request:  Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :> 

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s 

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least 

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him 

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less) 

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you  

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare 

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.” 

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.” 

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious. 

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others 

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench. 

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him? 

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.” 

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates. 

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend. 

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.” 

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them. 

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.” 

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl” 

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early 

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.” 

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part 

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!” 

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument 

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you 

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner 

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten? 

• your conversations often go like this: 

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.” 

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.” 

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest. 

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.  

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.” 

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business. 

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.  

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course. 

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that. 

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare. 

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless. 

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight. 

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head. 

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.” 

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient 

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor 

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space 

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1: 

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty. 

“I’m gonna surpass him!” 

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. 

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes. 

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.” 

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple. 

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do: 

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!! 

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him 

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better 

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage 

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room 

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much. 

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise. 

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment. 

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.” 

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that. 

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating. 

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.” 

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response. 

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?” 

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back. 

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.” 

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle   @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey @dai-tsukki-desu​

[mygodyouredivine]

The Hell In Your Eyes - 3

Summary: Loki doesn't meet her until two weeks after his initial imprisonment, but he knows he hates her. He has to hate her. Because the way she talks to him and helps him and saves him meals can't mean anything. She is too soft to deal with Loki, who is hardened with pain, pain, and more pain. And Loki hates soft things.

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: brief mentions of violence

Word Count: 4836

Previous Chapter

Loki is annoyed.  

Loki has sat through thousands of years of political dinners, exchanging thinly veiled insults under a layer of diplomacy, all while smiling through his teeth. Loki has spewed sensical nonsense, charming naive, innocent maids and sweeping young stable boys off their feet. Loki has endured Odin’s wrath — in all its horrible glory — countless times, and never once had he shed a tear, nor had a single cry escaped his lips.  

The whole of Asgard had coined him the Dark Prince — and who was Loki to disappoint? 

He had long since learned people saw what they expected to see. 

And so as the entire realm rejoiced in his demise, as Laufey left him to die, as Odin condemned him for eternity, as Thor abandoned him, as Frigga had sided with her husband again and again and again, Loki maintained his carefully constructed front.  

Yet one encounter with a mortal, and he had unraveled at her feet.  

If physically kneeling before the wretched creature wasn’t enough, he knew she had seen past his mask. By the time he had regained his composure, he was sure she had seen him.  

It won’t happen again.  

Loki is a god, and gods do not crack. Gods maintain their image, regardless of circumstance. Gods do not show weakness, do not show vulnerability.  

This is a lesson Loki knows well, a lesson etched into his skin countless times by Odin’s hand.  

And yet for each time Odin reinforced this lesson, the very same lesson was burned away by Thanos a thousand more. 

Loki tried, he truly did. Loki maintained his godly facade for an impressive amount of time, resisting as his body was taken apart over and over and over again. Perhaps it wasn’t as long as he thought. Loki feels as if his entire life was spent doused in agony, spent with his flesh melting off and his bones withering away. 

Ultimately, a god is no match for a Titan.  

But a mortal is no match for a god.  

And yet, Loki has found himself at her feet — at her mercy — twice. 

Even after, Loki couldn’t bring himself to summon his cruel exterior. Perhaps it had to do with the way she had waltzed into his space, all soft and defenseless, carrying that deplorable drink as if it was the elixir of eternal life (unfortunately, it tasted just as divine). Perhaps it was his body, still sated and full for the first time in months, reminding him of the food — the debt — he owes. Perhaps it was the way she held out her arm towards him, even though he could see it shaking.  

Whether it was any of these things or none at all, Loki’s cool mask of indifference was rendered utterly useless at her delicate, mortal hands.  

Loki hates her.  

His hatred fills every fiber of his being. It’s a scalding, fiery hatred, much unlike the frozen excuse of Loki’s heart. His frost giant heritage seems to reject her very being.  

Loki hates her voice, hates her hands, hates her. He hates how she makes him falter when there is no place for mistakes.  

Loki’s thoughts are interrupted by Thor, who enters Loki’s quarters without an ounce of hesitation — ever the righteous, confident, arrogant bastard. 

Ah, but Loki almost forgot. Thor is not the bastard — Loki is. How despicable; for really, Loki can not even call himself a bastard. Yet, ‘the Bastard Son of Odin’ has a certain charm to it. Perhaps another false title for his collection.  

“Loki!” Thor booms, “Here are your clothes that Lady Angel washed. You should be grateful brother, for she offered of her own volition — ” 

Is it so surprising someone would offer to help Loki without external influence?  

“ — to see and visit you! You are doing well. I am happy to see you are finally making an effort to get to know all of our friends — ” 

Thor is happy? For Loki, or for himself? Why must Loki, even now, strive to prove himself to Thor? Why is Loki’s worth solely dependent on Thor’s judgement?  

“ — and Lady Angel is absolutely wonderful. I am delighted to see you two getting along so well! I can’t believe you finally made a friend— ” 

At this, Loki’s composure cracks for the second time that day.  

“What am I? A pathetic child wandering aimlessly through a school corridor? A helpless hatchling at the mercy of others — groveling for the bare minimum? Who are you to congratulate me for ‘making a friend?’ She is not a friend ,” Loki spits out. He can feel his teeth grinding against each other, his fingernails once again digging into his palms. “She is nothing more than another worthless mortal, unworthy of even breathing the same air as I, and yet you suggest I be grateful?” 

Thor advances on Loki, his eyes hardening. The atmosphere is tense; unlike the typical bickering between the brothers, Loki identifies something distinctly different in the way the air vibrates. The space between the two gods crackles. “Watch yourself brother —” 

Brother. The word grates upon Loki’s nerves. How can Thor so carelessly throw the word around, even knowing of its false implications — implications and lies Loki foolishly believed.  

Sometimes Loki wonders if Thor does it on purpose.  

“Do you hear yourself Thor? Bending yourself over backwards to defend this wasted excuse of consciousness — you are the King of Asgard. What is she? She is nothing.” 

And now Loki is no longer staring at his brother, but the ceiling of his prison. His back is slammed against Stark’s hardwood floors and there is sharp ringing in his ears, likely the result of the crack in the floor right behind where his head is currently embedded.  

Loki almost laughs. 

Truly, it is comical — comical that even now, Thor’s first instinct is to physically threaten Loki. As if Loki doesn’t almost enjoy it. 

But Loki’s laugh catches in his throat, prevented from escaping by the large hand tightening around his airway.  

Thor’s hand is around Loki’s neck — a mirror of His. 

A thousand years Loki has known Thor. A thousand years of childish brawls, foolhardy battles, pointless arguments. How many times has Loki betrayed Thor? Thor betrayed Loki? And yet, Loki believed he knew his brother’s character.  

A thousand years Loki has known Thor, but never once has he thought Thor to be cruel.  

Oh how wrong he is.  

Thor’s hands are gripping Loki’s neck and for the life of him Loki can’t breathe. He tries to draw air into his lungs — lungs that are screaming with a familiar ache — and fails. Phantom pains flicker across his entire body and somehow, in the second before his vision goes black, Loki manages to croak out a strangled wheeze of a laugh.  

Loki is once again strapped upon a bed of coals, once again stabbed with blades of flame, once again torched with fire so hot he freezes. Loki remembers the only other time he begged — begged and pleaded for the sweet mercy of death, all while knowing death was a pleasure he was never to be granted.  

Loki is once again kneeling — boneless — at the feet of a Titan, looking up into a face promising endless pain, a face painted with the patience of a thousand moons and splattered with the ruined blood of a Frost Giant. 

Loki did not know that a Frost Giant’s blood could boil. 

Ah, but the Mad Titan knew, and he ensured Loki would never forget.  

Loki recalls the moment he let go — an eerie echo of his fall from grace, his fall from the Bifrost. And he remembers the horribly invasive power of the scepter, along with the blessed relief and utter disregard for self preservation that followed. 

And it is this — the relief — that plagues Loki. He does not fool himself; Loki may be the God of Lies, but he has no reason to lie to himself . It is not the destruction of New York nor the deaths at his hand that weigh upon his shattered mind. No, it is the fact that Loki found solace in his actions.  

Make no mistake — Loki does not rejoice in his crime, but nor could he say he regrets it. 

For if Loki were given the choice, he could not — would not — choose to spare Midgard at the cost of his own sanity. 

(But Loki was never given a choice.) 

Alas, Loki is already insane. 

The Mad Titan has taken so much from Loki.  

Physically, Loki has long since disregarded his own body. He remembers the beginning of his torture, when he still held the title of 'Prince of Asgard,' when he spoke with arrogance and oozed of indignantion. Oh how naive he had been. When the first whips had landed across his skin, Loki's thoughts could never have anticipated what the coming months would entail. Loki did not once stop to consider how he would escape the clutches of his captor — oh the confidence he held! — but instead lamented the scars he would surely have to bear. Dimly, Loki recalls worrying over his marred skin, irritated at the blemishes he would surely have to cover when taking future lovers.  

Loki scoffs.  

Loki does not recognize the man who spent time thinking of lovers. Or of his physical appearance. Or of his interests. Or of any other insignificant pleasure that ultimately contributes to the annihilation of a soul. 

(Even now, Loki carries with him an irrational fear of physical touch — a seed planted by the Mad Titan that Loki cannot gouge out, not even if he tore open his very being.) 

In fact, Loki wondered if his corporeal form had even existed anymore. But most of all, more than the ruination of his physical form, Loki mourns the damnation of his mind. 

Ultimately, the Mad Titan did triumph over Loki. For no matter how many times Loki escapes, fakes his death, runs away, he can never evade the visions that haunt his mind, the voices that infect his thoughts, the termites eating away at what remains of Loki’s sanity. 

(If Loki were given a choice, he would have chosen death again and again and again.) 

Alas, Loki was not — is not — given a choice, for suddenly he is not lying on a bed of coals, but on his apartment floor again. Thor has since removed his hand from Loki’s neck and Loki half wishes Thor just kept it there. Just kept on squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until Loki died on that bed of coals.  

Loki wonders, if he were to die at Thor’s hand, would his brother feel remorse? Or perhaps, more realistically, relief?  

Unfortunately, Loki is not dead, and Thor is gazing at him, concern evident in his gaze. As if Thor wasn’t the one who put Loki in this condition — wasn’t the one who greedily snatched all of Odin’s affection, wasn’t the one who pushed Loki out of favor, wasn’t the one who led his brainless minions in a brash suicide mission, as if Thor wasn’t the one who stared Loki in the eye as Loki let go into the abyss.  

As if Thor wasn’t the first domino in a long ripple effect that eventually drowned Loki in his sins.  

Thor was the smooth pebble that young children skipped over lakes, just barely skimming the surface of a tempting downfall — nevertheless gracefully leaping unscathed across the reflective waters. Yet Loki was the jagged, unskippable rock, destined to fall through the air and fall through the water with no hesitation. Loki has long since come to terms with this simple fact.  

No longer does Loki resent his brother, for he understands: light can only shine in the presence of darkness. And if Loki is condemned to darkness — so be it.  

Loki does not resent his brother, but oftentimes Loki despises his lightness . What some might say is endearing — the inability for Thor to give up — is just a burden. Even now, Thor still thinks he can change Loki, can fix him. Thor still thinks that by vouching for Loki and providing Loki a place to live and surrounding Loki with Thor’s friends that he can mend Loki’s broken soul and bring back the brother he once had. Thor is still in denial — he refuses to grasp the very simple concept that Thor’s brother — the Second Prince of Asgard, God of Lighthearted Mischief — is long dead. And so Thor continues to try. But light yelling into the darkness does not change it.  

And even now, with Thor looming above Loki, Loki does not resent his brother.  

But Loki resents Thor’s very being — the core of who Thor is. Thor is a duality; one of naivety and compassion, yet tainted — or perhaps embellished — with a smidge of cruelty and arrogance.  

And as Thor is speaking to Loki, mouth forming words Loki is too tired to hear, Loki simply lies on the floor, limbs relaxed around him, throat sore, and does the only thing he can do when feeling so utterly empty.  

Loki laughs.  

______________________________

Midgard is rather charming in some regards.  

Loki will eventually have to investigate the laundry process, for he has just now made the curious discovery that freshly dried clothes are warm . He suspects they were warmer right after they were dried, but he can still feel the presence of the heat, lingering within the very fabric of his garments. He wonders just how much they were heated up to — would it have burnt his frozen hands at the peak of its fiery glory? 

No, Loki’s hands are too well accustomed to fire now. 

But he doubts that her hands are. He envisions Angel pulling his clothes out of the dryer, her hands touching the same clothes that he has worn, that he will wear, that he is currently touching.  

Yet is it entirely possible Loki is standing around, imagining a scene that never played out, for it was not Angel who brought Loki’s laundry back to him, but his dearest brother. Looking at his pile of clothes again, Loki takes in the telltale signs of Thor. The messily folded shirts stare back at Loki, mocking him.  

He wonders if she ever even did any part of his laundry. Perhaps she only offered it as a way to ease the uncomfortable tension that had arisen earlier. Or rather, (and his stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought) she lugged his laundry basket downstairs and dumped it straight into Thor’s arms. 

Why else would she refuse his help to accompany her?  

A twinge of something rises up within Loki as he realizes she accepted Thor’s offer to bring his clothes back. Or, much more likely, she had pushed the task onto Thor in a desperate attempt to avoid encountering him again.  

Not that Loki could blame her. 

And yet the uncomfortable sensation within Loki only grows, and he realizes that he feels something akin to disappointment. Loki cannot allow himself to feel disappointment. He had long since learned not to expect anything from anyone — or perhaps, much more cynically, to only depend on — to trust — himself.  

Trust, Loki knows, is a fickle concept the naive embrace. Trust itself is ill fated, the certainty of an inevitable betrayal the same as the certainty that one day everyone living on this cursed realm will perish.  

Loki hates Angel. He hates how she pretends to care for him, hates how she imitates Thor, hates how she always finds a way to break him, and Loki hates how Angel makes him feel.  

Loki's silent anger boils inside of him — like the steady countdown of a ticking bomb — manifesting itself out of him as the laundry basket is violently launched across the room. 

He hates how he feels absolutely no satisfaction at the way the freshly clean clothes scatter across the floor, hates how he lost control, and hates how the damned mortal forces him to feel emotions he does not want to feel . 

Sometimes all Loki can do is hate. 

______________________________

The heat from the clothes have long since seeped into the floor. 

The sun is just now setting, dousing Loki’s room in a fiery glow. Warm light spills across Loki’s bookshelves, his impeccably made bed, the clothes strewn around his floor. Loki sits on the ground, bare of his illusions, allowing himself to just be .  

Staring across the room, he notices tendrils of light carefully curling around the air, miniscule particles of dust dancing in the golden glow. This is a gold Loki enjoys. Unlike the brash, loud character of Thor’s gold — of Asgard’s gold, this is a much softer, gentle color. The comforting hue reminds Loki of his mother, and against his will, he feels a wall of despair beginning to build within his chest.  

For a second, Loki loses himself as the wall crashes over him. He drops his head, allowing his hair to dangle in front of his face, obscuring his view of the floating particles. He feels like a child — wants nothing more in this moment than to run to Frigga, for her floral scent to fill his senses as she envelopes him in her arms. What Loki wouldn’t give to have Frigga’s delicate fingers comb through his hair just once more, for her soft lips against his forehead, murmuring words of comfort.  

But he can’t have that. Instead, here he is, sitting on the floor of a glorified prison in the midst of a community of people who hate him, with nothing but Thor to act as his buffer. 

Looking up, Loki gazes at the honeyed light as it glides over a particular heap of clothing. He watches, mesmerized, as the light gently moves, unhurriedly bathing each corner of the fabric in its rich glow.  

If he were still on Asgard, Loki would most likely have been reading, thoroughly immersed in some story or another. The sun would have showered his pages in its quiet glow, lighting the words aflame. He would have taken a stroll in his mother’s gardens, breathing in the sweet scent of her flowers as he sat in his favorite hidden alcove. He would have taken out his book and continued to read, read until the golden hue of the sun was replaced by the tender shine of the moon. Only then would Loki return, serenely walking back to his chambers, stopping only to retrieve a cup of tea, and resume his reading on his balcony.  

Loki wants that. 

Loki wants an afternoon to himself, with no worries plaguing his mind. 

Loki wants to be able to read, and to do so in an environment which permits him to let his guard down. 

Loki wants to sit outside, surrounded by flowers, and watch as the sun transitions into the moon. 

Loki wants to indulge in a hot cup of tea as he watches the moonlight spills across the pages of his book. 

Loki wants so many things — and he can’t have any of them. 

Standing up, Loki decides he has spent enough time reminiscing over what he cannot have today. He feels sticky and hot and cold and hungry and all he wants right now , is a long shower.  

And so Loki walks over to the same pile of clothes, now dull and abandoned by the sun, gazing disapprovingly downwards. Thor is truly an imbecile, for he has not even managed to separate their clothes correctly. Loki is currently staring at a dark green sweatshirt, one he knows for a fact he has never seen before. Tiredly, he tosses it upon his bed and scoops up a clean change of clothes, then turns around and trodds slowly into the bathroom.  

______________________________

Water droplets rain all around Loki, swiftly sliding down his body. 

He doesn’t particularly enjoy showering — it reminds him too much of another substance: denser, stickier, and much more red, trickling down his skin. Loki much prefers baths. Baths, however, render their subject very much vulnerable, and Loki does not fancy risking any more vulnerability than strictly necessary.  

So Loki is standing in the shower, unabashedly soaking up the shallow warmth the water provides. Surely if Thor could see him, his brother would lecture Loki on wasting Midgard’s precious resources. But, Loki reasons, if Stark truly possesses the excess of wealth he boasts of, Loki’s water usage will not be of much concern to the man. And so this is a luxury Loki will grant himself.  

The shower is one place where Loki feels the safest, where he allows his thoughts to wander and drift into otherwise forbidden territories. Today especially has been challenging, and even his muscles seem to ache, the fibers pulling away from each other, trying to rip Loki apart from the inside out. His mind is exhausted, filled with swirling thoughts of Frigga and Angel and Thor, with the occasional Odin and Titan intruding whenever a particular body part cries out.  

And as Loki gazes down at his body, the disfigured canvas of scars stare back at him and he attempts to soothe away the countless aches. No matter how much time has passed and how much magic Loki pours into himself, the pains never seem to retreat. Rationally, Loki knows it doesn’t make sense. He knows his magic is fully capable of healing himself, knows that by all accounts he is healed.  

But Loki also knows he does not imagine the sharp pains coursing through his veins.  

He is fighting himself — the part of himself that does not want the pain to stop. Because all Loki knows is pain, and he fears the absence of pain almost as much as he dreads its glorious presence.  

Loki raises his head, allowing for the stream of water to bruise his face. And if Loki’s closed eyes leak the occasional tear, no one would know.  

______________________________

Loki’s self destructive spiraling is abruptly cut short by three succinct knocks from his bedroom door. Still soaking in the shower, Loki debates whether or not to answer; after all, he truly has no desire to see his brother again today. Or preferably, ever again. Unfortunately, Loki is all too aware that if he does not answer the door to let Thor in, Thor will simply let himself in. And if there’s anything worse than seeing Thor, it will be seeing a displeased Thor while Loki stands nude and wet.  

Reluctantly, Loki turns off his shower, changes into his freshly washed ‘sweatpants’, and leisurely walks towards the door. He is honestly surprised Thor hasn’t invited himself in yet. He is more surprised when he finally opens the door and is promptly met with — not Thor’s brutish face, but the goddamned mortal.  

She stands there, in front of his door, barely out of arm's reach. Loki can’t help but drink her in. He notices her hair, laying loosely around her face, framing her profile. She’s sporting a sweater, much too warm for the present weather. Its collar is stretched out over years of use, teasing his eyes with a fraction of her collarbones peaking through. Her legs are barely covered by absurdly short shorts, and Loki feels the back of his ears heating up. Hurriedly, he averts his eyes, falling down to her feet, once again hugged by soft looking socks — mismatched.  

His scrutinization is interrupted by her voice; so soft.  

“Hey! Sorry if I interrupted you. I heard you were in the shower but I was going around taking everyone’s dinner orders. We’re getting Chinese.” She tilts her head to the side, lifting her chin ever-so-slightly, distractedly exposing the tantalizing skin of her neck. She swallows, and Loki’s eyes discreetly follow the bob of her throat. “I was just wondering if you wanted anything?” 

It takes a moment for Loki to register her question and another for him to process it. She is going to order dinner? For him? And she is asking him for his preference? Loki has not had the privilege of preferring anything in a long, long time. Damn this mortal. 

“I am not familiar with this particular cuisine, nor Midgard’s in particular.” 

She meets his eyes then, and only after does it occur to him that her eyes had been previously glued to his abdomen. His abdomen, he realizes which has been bare this entire interaction. “That doesn’t answer my question.” 

He forces himself to roll his eyes, running a hand through his still dripping hair to hide the scarlet his ears have surely become. “I am saying that I do not have a preference, woman.” 

She lifts her shoulders briefly in a gesture Loki has come to associate with Midgard’s daftness and promptly moves closer to him. Instinctively, Loki takes a step back, then curses himself for doing so. He truly must be losing it, backing away from a defenseless mortal. But she doesn’t push further, instead tilting her head at that angle again, asking him another question.  

“Can I come in?” 

Loki hesitates. He doesn’t understand her motives, doesn’t know if this is a trick the Avengers have set up or perhaps a test designed by his brother. All he knows is that Angel is staring at him with her eyes wide and innocent and completely devoid of deceit.  

Angel must carry magic or Loki must be possessed by the Mind Stone again, for against his will, Loki steps to the side, allowing her to brush past him. The sleeve of her sweater comes into contact with Loki’s stomach, and he jerks away.  

Awkwardly, Loki closes his door and turns to face the mortal, noting how hilariously out of place she looks, standing in the midst of Loki’s domain. With a wave of his hand, the previously scattered articles of clothing fly onto his bed, meticulously folding themselves. Angel’s surprised, quiet gasp does not escape his notice. She walks towards his bed, small hand landing on Thor’s sweatshirt.  

“Take that when you leave.” Loki internally bristles at his own tone, noticing how Angel’s shoulders locked up when he spoke and did not relax when he stopped. “Please,” he adds. 

To his surprise (again), Angel approaches him, sweater in hand. “Why?” 

At this, Loki is caught off guard. Without warning, he is overwhelmed by distaste. His patience has been tested over and over again, and he does not have even a drop more to deal with this mortal’s incompetence. His hatred for her rushes back, multiplied a thousandfold. Who does she think she is and why will she not leave Loki alone? Why must she cut short his relaxation, intrude upon his personal space, inquire after him when he knows — he knows — she does so unwillingly? Why is she holding up Thor’s goddamned sweater, pretending not to know why Loki hates it so? As if she doesn’t know it belongs to Thor. 

In fact, Loki is positive she is intimately aware of whom it belongs to, undoubtedly so. He hates Angel, hates her for reluctantly offering her help, hates her for her smoothies, hates her for asking him about his preferences. Briefly, he envisions snapping her neck. Effortlessly. But the image makes him recoil, bringing about not satisfaction, but horror.  

His fists clench, his broken fingernails once again digging into bruised skin. It costs Loki an immeasurable amount of self control not to simply throw her out, hurl her from his quarters. Instead, he snaps at her. 

“Girl, do not test my patience. I am warning you, it has been a very long day and if you do not exit extremely promptly, it will not end well for one of us.” 

Loki hates the way her shoulders tense up again, hates the way she physically flinches away at his dismissal.  

Loki hates how though he can sense her increasing heartbeat, her nervousness, Angel still looks him in the eye and informs him, in a terrified voice coated with forced calm, “I’m sorry to hear that Loki. I added this sweater into your laundry after it was done, but I should have known it would not have been welcome.” 

Loki hates how she then drops her eyes, staring intently at her mismatched socks.  

“I’ll just leave your dinner outside.” 

Loki hates how she leaves, her hands gripping Thor’s — his — sweatshirt tightly, footsteps moving at a much brisker pace.  

Loki hates how Angel closed off, how he closed her off.  

Loki hates how Angel clearly did do his laundry. 

Loki hates how Angel thought of him, giving him an extra sweatshirt, offering him a choice for dinner. 

Loki hates Angel more than he hates Thor, more than he hates Odin. 

Loki hates Angel more than he hates the Mad Titan.  

The only person Loki hates more than Angel is himself. 

Fuck. 

______________________________ 

We don't even ask for happiness, just a little less pain.  

- Charles Bukowski 

______________________________

Previous Chapter

~

~

Taglist: @spacedaddydinn @doct0rstrange

[supercantaloupe]

on Aelwyn Abernant, the Reformed Villain Squad, and redeeming teenage antagonists

an analysis on antagonist character development in Fantasy High. spoilers through sophomore year and (mildly so) the most recent roll20 oneshot. essay under the cut bc i am very long winded

the turnaround with Aelwyn in s2 is handled so well  i cant get over it. she was such a major antagonist in the first season and just. despicable. she had no pathos. we hated this bitchy older sister who tried to kill Adaine and her friends and raise an evil dragon, and when she gets knocked on her ass and thrown in jail, we cheer.

and then s2 fucking starts saying “hey she’s in jail still if you’d like to look into that” and pursuing that thread ends up being almost as comedic an idea as it is a reluctant one; it’s also quickly shunted to the background as soon as more pressing leads present themselves, to the point where we almost forget about her until Adaine is kidnapped and then the first time you see her it’s just. viscerally upsetting.

she’s bad. she did evil. she got what she deserved.

but she already got what she deserved. last season.

she got her ass handed to her by a bunch of 14 year olds including her little sister (how embarrassing!). her plans were thwarted. she got punched in the face and made fun of. she already got her punishment.

it just……immediately registers as over-the-top Wrong to be told “hey, remember that antagonist you beat last season? she’s still being punished for that, except it’s way worse than just going to mumple.”

and there’s that reminder that like…this is a teenager. a child. who has been manipulated and abused. which is a really fascinating look at this character we used to see pretty much unilaterally as a one dimensional bitchy villain.

i mean we got a more in depth look at Penelope’s and Biz’s motivations in s1 (Penelope being the popular rich girl sorceress obviously hungry for power and the alllure of the high school clout that is being prom queen, but also we know that her having to turn on her best friend Sam Nightingale as part of the scheme was something she was reluctant and not happy to do; and Biz being that predatory incel creeper type dude besides just a nerd with computers and a lack of social graces). and they were as much willingly active in the plot as Aelwyn was. yet in s1 they really never do bother to explore Aelwyn’s motivations. i remember after watching s1 but before s2 that was one of my biggest lingering questions: why tf was Aelwyn involved?

well. she was manipulated and abused. her terrible parents raised her in an awful environment that conditioned her to Listen and Obey and Behave and Be Perfect, and then Kalina helped cinch the noose around her neck with threats and coersion into the KVS Kaper and the NMK crown debacle. she doesn’t freely choose any of it; she’s coerced, manipulated, abused.

and she already got justifiably punished for her bad actions in s1. the torture is almost literal overkill. it’s just……there’s this immediate turnaround in sympathy and view of the character. on first watch, it’s viscerally upsetting to see her getting so brutally punished for actions she already faced consequences for, and on rewatch, it makes your skin crawl to know she’s being tortured for terrible things she had little choice in carrying out. and tortured by some of the very same people who coerced her to behave terribly in the first place, to add insult to injury.

and it’s still fucking frustrating when they rescue her and her memory gets reset and she goes back to her parents because it’s like “well shit, she’s evil again, and we just wasted all that effort for nothing” but it’s also sad cause we know she’s running back to her abusers and she isn’t happy about it but doesn’t feel like she has a choice. and it’s sadder still that what eventually inevitably gets her to turn to good for good (i.e. away from her parents) is just. a full dissociative mental breakdown.

(but then she survives and it’s gonna be good!!! until Adaine dies in her fucking arms. which is. almost funny. she’s been through so much shit and that isn’t something that Brennan would have just. preplanned. like a written in plot point. no, that was just an unpredictable consequence of the battle. what a juicy fucking moment. she’s been through All That Shit™️ and has finally turned to fight for good and her sister just fully dies in front of her. yeowch)

and she turns out okay in the end. she comes out the other side alive and whole and supported by her sister and her friends, with the hope of a future and recovery. there is an acknowledgement that A) she can and will grow from her mistakes and damage, B) it’s going to be really hard, and C) the post-s2 one shots both prove that she’s doing okay now. hell, she has a whole squad now of other former-teenage-villains-turned-good-guys. she has friends now, Ragh and Zayn, with common ground, and a secret handshake and everything. they’ve all grown from the mistakes of their past into better, happier, healthier people

and about Zayn and Ragh. we’ve seen a lot of characters, protagonist and antagonist, teenage and adult, PC and NPC do some really fucked up shit and get punished for it. but why do they get happy endings? why are Aelwyn, Ragh, and Zayn the only members of the RVS and not someone else like Biz or Penelope or Dayne? 

well, the latter two are dead by then; but then again, Biz and Ragh were also killed by the Bad Kids in s1, and subsequently resurrected. (Zayn died too, but was neither killed nor revived at the Bad Kids’ hands, so i’ll get to him in a sec.) and there are plenty of adult antagonists the Bad Kids face who are killed and left that way by the Bad Kids without second thought: Johnny Spells, Coach Daybreak, Captain Wicklaw, the Abernant parents (presuming Arianwen doesn’t survive in the forest for very long, which i doubt). why do some characters get second chances while others don’t?

in the case of Zayn, his death was pretty much out of the Bad Kids’ hands, and they later found out he was manipulated by Daybreak into being bad anyway because of his sad living situation. he was a pretty minor antagonist in the scheme of things, and when we re-meet him as a ghost in the s1 epilogue, he’s pretty obviously remorseful for his actions. and dying seems like a steep enough punishment to me for the shit he did to contribute to the KVX caper; returning as a ghost, free from the trappings of his unfortunate living life, he now has the room and freedom to grow into a better person.

in the cases of Daybreak, Spells, Wicklaw, and the Abernant parents: these are bad people who should know better. these are fully grown adults who actively choose to do evil. whether they think it’s the right thing to do or not (in Daybreak’s case), whether they think it will benefit them and don’t care about anyone else (in the Abernants’ case), or whether they don’t care much at all and are just doing shit because they feel like it (in the cases of Spells and Wicklaw), these are all adults who consciously make the decision to do terrible things and hurt other people. of course Johnny Spells, who is generally a punk thief and thug, is not on the same level of bad as Angwyn, who kidnaps and tortures his own daughters for political gain, but the point remains. these fuckers should know better. they’re grown ups. they had their chances to be good and they chose not to heed them. their minds are set on bad actions and they are a continued danger to other people as long as they are alive. when they die, the Bad Kids do their damndest to make sure it stays that way.

now, in the cases of Penelope and Dayne: these are teenagers who actively chose to participate in an evil plot. Penelope, Dayne, and Biz were all fully cognizant of what they were doing trying to raise KVX back to his former power. why? well, to some extent, we can only speculate. i suspect Penelope was just one of those Regina George bitches who is rich and popular and powerful and obsessed with power and popularity within high school as if that’s the end-all-be-all of existence (which, like, when you’re currently in high school, is a somewhat understandable worldview i think). Dayne being her boyfriend and a musclehead jock probably falls into a similar line of thinking. they are actively and willingly trying to cause harm, and teenager or not, must be stopped. they’re killed, anyway, during the Climactic Battle™️ anyhow; it’s not like the Bad Kids were going to gain anything at that point by keeping them alive.

now, Biz: Biz is the creepy Nice Guy incel type, sees woman as a prize he deserves to win, yadda yadda. he does, like Penelope and Dayne, actively choose to help KVX. there might be something to be said about his motivation the Bad Kids discover after the arcade battle by detecting his thoughts (that being to upload the captured maidens from the palimpsests to “call the shots” himself) is an altered memory; whether this was his original motivation from the start or not, i’m not sure. but the Bad Kids do kill him – and then resurrect him for important, time-sensitive information. and they beat it out of him – he gets two of his fucking fingers blown off. and Riz reattaches them once they have their info, and they realize his memory is altered. of course, the Bad Kids don’t know at this point that the altered memory was something he, Penelope, and Aelwyn had planned and agreed on and done to themselves, but this points to something important in my opinion: the Bad Kids, and the narrative/show as a whole by extension, acknowledge that external manipulation affects how guilty someone is in a crime.

which brings us to Ragh. Ragh, introduced from episode 1 as the meathead jock. Ragh the archetypical one-dimensional high school bully. Ragh who works with the harvestmen in effort to (ostensibly) end the world/provoke international war. Ragh, whose low intelligence but high loyalty and internalized homophobia led him to be fully swayed and blindly led by his coach and captain, who have actively chosen to do evil. Ragh who is killed in combat by the Bad Kids and resurrected for information, not Daybreak. Ragh, who the Bad Kids realize was probably not aware of exactly what he was being made to do and how bad it really was. Ragh, who by their kindness in sparing his life and directing him on a better path, becomes a well-rounded character and an active ally to the Bad Kids during and after prom, an invaluable companion during their quest in sophomore year, and overall a really good friend and person. 

(it might also be worth considering the case of Jawbone here, too, who started out a very minor antagonist in a fight but ended up becoming a major NPC because the Bad Kids talked to him, found out he came from an unfortunate situation and set of circumstances, and showed him kindness in offering the school guidance counselor position, a kindness that isn’t really owed but given anyway and ends up changing his entire life for good.)

and then, Aelwyn, whose case is already discussed above. so, why is the RVS what it is, why them but not others?

if you’re familiar with Avatar: the Last Airbender, you’re probably familiar with Zuko’s character arc, and how it’s often lauded as a masterful example of developing a villain into a hero over the course of a narrative. what makes Zuko’s arc so well done and exceptional is that he starts out as a kid in a bad situation under the influence of bad adults seeking to do bad deeds, but he later realizes the error of those ways, actively removes himself from that situation despite the difficulty and danger in doing so, goes through a lot of shit and reflects on his past mistakes and learns from them, and then actively chooses to fight for good in the end with the help of close, trusted friends, found family. 

this, i believe, is the same in the case of Fantasy High and its treatment of the RVS. its members, like Zuko, are all teenagers who came from shitty situations and were manipulated by evil adults to do bad. they are punished for their bad actions, and they learn from their errors and mistakes. with the kindness and help of good people, friends and chosen family, they are able to escape their abusers and bad situations and grow into their own people. and they actively choose to improve themselves with that help and fight for good.

Fantasy High, through the arcs of Jawbone, Zayn, Ragh, and especially Aelwyn, asserts that it is not your fault if you come from a bad situation and are forced to behave badly as a result. it does not pretend that you are absolved of any responsibility for those actions; quite the opposite, as even though they were externally manipulated into their evil actions, all of those mentioned characters face tangible consequences for their actions and later express remorse for their mistakes. but Fantasy High also asserts that even if you have made great mistakes in your past, even if you came from a bad situation beyond your control, even if you were manipulated and abused, with care and love and support and a hell of a lot of work and effort, you can improve your situation and find good, happiness, peace, you can thrive. evil adults who should know better don’t get redeemed. teenagers who aren’t coerced but actively choose evil don’t get redeemed. but abused kids deserve another shot at happiness. with enough work, and some love and help along the way, they can get there, even from the lowest imaginable point, from rock fucking buttom. it’s possible. 

[ssson-of-sparda]

WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - Prologue (Vergil x Nero's Mother)

Summary: Turmoil has engulfed the small Island of Fortuna, shaken now more than ever by a never-ending civil war opposing the religious Order of the Sword to a group of rebels named the Guard of Sparda. As he tries to unveil his father's secret past and achieve some hidden dark purpose, Vergil crosses path with Elissa, a young lady whose thirst for vengeance and blood is as red as the dress she's wearing. He doesn't want to care and he especially doesn't want to get involved but you don't choose your fate in Fortuna. That's the story Nero is about to discover.

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda's past

Author’s note: This is one hell of an ambitious project I put myself into, but I hope you will follow me in this journey which is basically another fan fiction about Vergil and Nero's mother. Probably not the best (I've read some prreeety good ones) but one that should be (hopefully) different from what was previously posted.I worked a lot on this story, made a lot of research and used many artistic references that I catalogued at the end of each chapter for the curious ones among you. Since English is not my mother tongue, feel free to let me know if there's any grammar mistake or if some sentences don't make any sense. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

In twenty-five years, Aifric’s Alehouse hadn’t changed even just a tiny bit. Same hefty old furniture. Same mucky walls and filthy floor covered in layers of dry alcohol that stick your shoes to the wooden slats each time you take a step. Same lamentable drunkards in search of more alcohol to drown their sorrows in, their arms around women that would pretend to adore them for a night in exchange for a bit of money. And, now that Vergil dared breathe a little, same foul stench of humidity, staleness and sweat, typical of this kind of underground bars from the no-go areas of the Castle Town of Fortuna. And the music … Don’t let him think about the music.          Never thought he would come back here one day.                   His firm gloved hand grabbed the backrest of a wobbly stool that scratched the old wooden floor with an unpleasant creak as he pulled it to sit on it, revealing his presence to the brown-skinned man sipping his beer in silence next to him, his defeated pockmarked face hidden under a thick dirty white cloak that hadn’t been washed in probably years and that had lost almost all its glorious golden embroideries.     Vergil eyed at him for a second, the same way the Moor had eyed at him when, more than two decades ago, he had sit on this very same stool, his then young frame hidden under a cloak similar to his and yet less odorous, a young wanderer looking for stories and answers. Strange how things seems to move in circle.          “You’re too late. You know that?” The man’s voice was thickly and hoarse, due to the long years of alcohol abuse and contempt towards the world, towards that silver-haired ghost back from a distant past but especially towards himself. “Twenty-five fucking years too late to be more precise.” He got no answer to that reproach, not a word, just a nod and a pregnant silence that made him scoff. But his laugh, once so hearty and alive, held today nothing but melancholy and despise. “But at least she was right. You did come back.”           Vergil peeped at the man again from the corner of his icy blue eyes, longer this time, but still with that eternal impassibility he was known for, hiding his slight surprise and his judgemental thoughts he knew deep down he shouldn’t have. But the barfly next to him was nothing like the man he had met years ago. This man was just the broken shadow of the one everyone in Fortuna once called Adel the Honourable¹ , Captain of the Guard of Sparda.           “What the fuck are you doing here … Vergil?” He spat on his name, literally, not caring about what the solemn Son of Sparda would think of him, would do to him. He spat to show him his disgust, his hatred, even though he knew that a bit of saliva wasn’t enough to show the extent of his feelings. “Where is she?” Vergil asked with a calm voice that made Adel grimace (that voice was as nasally and annoying as he remembered) and finally glare at him, allowing Vergil to see how the years and the pain had marked and scared his once-handsome face. “You got some nerve to ask that now.”           “ I need to see her.”Adel firmly hit the counter with his empty glass before turning around to stare at Vergil, giving him a long disdainful look he thought he could only give himself. “Sure, I’ll bring you to her. But you might want to give me that damn sword of yours so that I shove it deep in your stone-cold heart first.” Vergil smirked. This was way too reminiscent of old foolish squabbles he once found very amusing … though quite pathetic and most of the time one-sided.       “Why don’t you use that crossbow² of yours instead?” The taunt wasn’t meant to defy him if one could read through Vergil’s phlegmatic voice. But the Moor³ interpreted it that way and yet refused to react to it, knowing how vain it would be.   “I don’t have it anymore.” Adel opened his cloak to reveal a leather sling with no weapon attached to it. “I don’t have anything anymore. And we know full well that it wouldn’t have done shit to you.”        “Trust me, Adel. I know what it’s like to lose everything.” Was it an attempt at sounding

sympathetic? Probably. After all, Vergil still felt somewhat confused by the occasional waves of humanity surging up from inside of him.        “Do you?” He laughed with bitterness, not believing him for one second. “Bullshit! And you know why? Cause you never had anything!”  If Vergil took this as a personal attack he didn’t let his body show it, but he nevertheless let out one simple sentence, a boast he knew would displease the brown-skinned man, a display of his pride and superiority he always thought he had over that mere human. “I had her.”        Quite expectedly, Adel jumped from his stool and before falling back against the bar, tried to grab Vergil by his blue collar. But it looked too pathetic and clumsy to be considered menacing or dangerous. “Fucking stop talking about her!” He pointed his finger at him in defiance while tears formed in his dull black eyes that had long lost their charming spark. “She fucking loved you! She loved you so damn much and you never cared, not a damn second. So don’t come to me with all your ceremony and shit, pretending you care now?” He sobbed loudly and wiped his eyes with his fists, a gesture that only made Vergil frown. How low had that man sunk! And how wrong he was.       “Nero needs to know.” The silver-haired man finally said, not very willing to continue this conversation due to a growing lack of patience. “He needs to know about his mother.”There was a new brief silence that could only be filled with glasses clinking, noisy hubbub and prostitutes giggles. Both men gauged each other, wondering who should talk first and what to say after the name of the boy the woman they both loved had given birth to was brought into the discussion. “So you finally know.” The Moor finally said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How does it feel?” Vergil didn’t want to talk about his feelings, especially not with a man he hadn’t seen in years and that would be too eager to judge him. His feelings were his to ponder and only his.             “My feelings are none of your concern.” The brevity of Vergil’s sentences was annoying to Adel who had almost forgotten how it was to have a conversation with the stoic Son of Sparda. And when some people would call it introversion he would call it self-importance, despicable self-importance. “Do you ever think of her?”           New intended silence. But yes, there were times when Vergil did think of her because that’s what happens when someone as special as her shares even just a tiny bit of his life. He thought of her when he was at his best and when he was at his lowest. And he had been thinking of her even more lately, each time he would look at Nero or think of him, each time he would remember his journey in Fortuna. She was a part of his past he would never be able to cast away. But again, none of Adel’s business. “Look, you don’t need to talk to me about her. Just tell Nero. I bet you know how to find him.”Glad to finally leave, Vergil stood up and dusted his long dark coat he felt had been soiled by such a dirty place. But right after he turned around to walk away, his old acquaintance spoke again with disarming heartfelt honesty. “It feels like hell to me.” Vergil stopped and slightly looked back at him from the corner of his eyes, at his defeated look staring deep in his empty glass again. “Like fucking hell actually. Seeing that kid of yours growing up to be just like her but at the same time just like you right under my nose. That smug smirk he got from you on the lips he inherited from her. Everything about that child makes me want to vomit or plug my eyes out because that makes me realise all I lost, all I could have had if you had never stepped a foot in Fortuna. You took her away from me, away from everyone, and when you finally got out from my life, you dared leave behind you a living reminder of your victory over me to torture me for the rest of my miserable days.” Vergil stood still, withstanding the man’s rancour without batting an eyelash.    “The fact you considered her love a victory maybe is the reason why you

never had her.” Vergil replied and before pushing the double-leaf door of the bar, waited for an instant as if he was expecting something to come in, but Adel was stubborn and not keen on accepting defeat. “You took her away from your son!” He shouted and smiled when Vergil froze again on his way out.       “ If that’s true, go tell him that then.”

***

Nico was pissed. Nero could tell it by the way she was furiously trying to fix the neon blue sign of their van. But what could he do about it? It wasn’t his fault if a starving empusa had decided to snack on the E while Nico was parked waiting for her friend to come back from his demon ass kicking routine. “D vil May Cry” Nero read out loud with a pout. “I don’t know, Nico. Works for me.” And yet, he had a feeling being angry because of a damn light was just a pretext to let out some pent up frustration due to god knew what. “Really? Is that how you gonna treat your family heritage now?” The black-haired woman harrumphed, threatening to hit her friend with a monkey wrench. “Is that how you gonna treat my precious Minotaurus after all he did for ya? After he followed you right into that hellish ficus?”          “Qliphoth.” He corrected with a smile.          “Yeah whatever.” Nero had a brief laugh but eventually shrugged, not seeing the problem as he read the neon sign on the van again. “The E doesn’t light up anymore. So what? We still know it’s Devil May Cry.”           “When your deadbeat dad tore your arm out from its socket, didn’t I give ya a new one?”   Nero grumbled, not finding the comparison funny or admissible. “That’s not the same! You can’t compare my arm to a damn neon letter. I needed my arm!”            “And Devil May Cry needs its E! So stop complainin’ and pass me the stillson.” She ordered as she kept on adjusting the colourful wires hidden in the dented bodywork of the van. Nero sighed but handed her the tool anyway. “I thought you were tired of being my pet mechanic.”          “ I am but like I said, I can’t let you treat my baby like that.”     And then, he dared say it. “Seriously. I thought you would be busy reading those new files you found in your father’s old stuff? You didn’t say anything about what they were.” And, as Nico dropped the wrench on the hood, he immediately knew he maybe shouldn’t have asked that.           “Cause they were not interesting. Just pieces of diaries he wrote when he was young, explainin’ how he started working for the Order and why he didn’t want me or my mother in his life anymore.” Nero frowned, not believing Nico for an instant. Her sentence didn’t make any sense to him cause he was sure any child who had grown up without a parent would be even just a tiny bit interested in knowing who they were or what they did. He knew he was.             God! What he would give to know even a just of small piece of information about his mother, about who she was, how she looked like. But unfortunately for him, the only person who had all the answers to his questions was never prompt to give them, acting more like a vault than a chatterbox. “And that doesn’t interest you? Raaah come on, Nico!” He clicked his tongue.            “I’m interested in his work. Nothing else. I couldn’t care less about his adventure with that other chick which is FYI apparently one of the reason why that asshole left my mother and me.”            “ You father left your mother for someone else?” Nico glared at Nero, catching a judgment in his voice that never was there.      “ Well I least I know why my father left my mother… No, actually, I know my mum, period.” Nero hadn’t heard that kind of words in years but the burn was as painful as he remembered. How many times he had heard the kids in Fortuna disrespecting him, disrespecting his mother, claiming she was a prostitute⁴ from the ill repute places of Fortuna. How many horrors he had to listen to. And how many punches he had received, and given, because of them. “Damn! I’m sorry, Nero. I didn’t mean.” Nico declared, horrified by her unusual behaviour and by the sudden sadness Nero tried to conceal in his blue eyes.  “Forget it. I’m used to it.” He gestured her to let go and went rummaging in the toolbox for no particular reason but to occupy his mind with something else. But Nico wasn’t willing to end their conversation like that, the feeling of guilt eating at her. “I’m sure your mother was someone fantastic, Nero.” She had a soft comforting smile.

“I mean, she had to be, you know … to stand your father.”            Nero chuckled but there was still that hint of misery, that very particular misery he only felt when thinking of his mother. A mix of bitterness, void and love. “Maybe she never really had to stand him. Maybe she was … a prostitute like everybody said.” Nico frowned; refusing to believe Nero would go for such bullshit. Didn’t he know how close-minded and rumour-hungry the people in Fortuna were?    “Nah, I don’t think so.” She declared as she funnily wrinkled her nose. “No money in the world would be enough to accept to spend a night with your dad. Your mother had to veeeery nice and patient and ooooh so in love with him.” Nero spared a glance at Nico, deeply moved by her attempt at comforting him and hoping she was right. “Damn, I beg that poor woman was a saint, ‘cause Vergil might look yummy to most people’s standards but he ain’t fun.” Her lips pinched together, she had a sort of deep serious frown that wrinkled her entire forehead, a somewhat amusing grimace Nero was sure was meant to emulate his father characteristic impenetrability. She kinda nailed it but …         “ Did you just say my father looks yummy?” Nero asked, quite disgusted. A crush on Lady, that he could get, but on his father … It made him shiver and want to throw up. “Huh, to most people standards!” She repeating, clapping her hands between each syllables. “I’m not most people.” Nero’s eyes widened when he heard familiar slow and steady footsteps coming from behind the door of the garage. “I mean, do you really think I could feel even just a tiny bit attracted to ‘Power! I need more power!’?” She imitated with a cavernous voice and Nero tried not to laugh. But it wasn’t Nico’s new impersonation of Vergil that was making him want to do so. It was actually his father standing on top of the stairs, stoic and still like a marble statue staring impassibly at Nico making a fool of him. Maybe he should warn her of his presence. Yes, maybe he should.            He timidly pointed at his father standing right behind her; still unsure he wanted this scene to stop. But he couldn’t wait to see Nico’s face when she would notice Vergil. And oh god, how priceless it was.    Nico was an intrepid, loud and lovely person but when her dark eyes took a small glance of Vergil, she froze and cleared her throat, definitely uncomfortable and … yeah a tiny bit scared. “But it has its charm. You’ve got some charm. That’s undeniable.” She rectified, looking at Vergil who eventually nodded, a faint smile on his face that meant more ‘yeah right’ than ‘how funny’ in Vergil language. He didn’t find this funny at all.            “Good evening to you too, Nicoletta. Nero.” He nodded once again, casting his aura of solemnity all over the garage. “Nico. Just Nico … nevermind.” Nico mumbled in a whisper that Vergil heard but chose to ignore. Nicknames were not his thing… They had never been his thing.He went down the stairs, his hand resting on the hilt of his precious Yamato as always and looked at the van with a new frown. “You two are busy working on some repairs, perhaps.” He asked in an effort to be as familial as possible, something that wasn’t his forte at all. It made the two friends exchange a curious glance. “ Yes … I mean, no, we were done.” Nero replied, wondering what his father was doing here. After all, unexpected visits were not in Vergil’s habits.         “ No, we were not. Gotta fix that E, remember?” Nico tapped at the letter with insistence.             “ That again?” The young man sighed. “Is Dante here?” That could explain Vergil’s presence in Fortuna. But as 90% of the time – or more – the Son of Sparda evicted an answer, changing the subject – or ignoring it – with a destabilizing yet infuriating indifference.           “ Miss Goldstein is right, a E is important.” He spoke, his icy blue eyes looking towards a distant past, towards memories he held in his heart he was rediscovering more and more with each day spent with his family, with his son.         “ Thank you! See, I told you!” Nico

shouted, proud to be right.  “ What are you doing here?” Nero finally questioned, impatient to finally know the truth behind his father’s presence. “I was in Fortuna visiting an old acquaintance.” Vergil weighed his words with smoothness as he paced in the garage looking at his surroundings without no real interest in them.         “ You … got acquaintances?” The slight frown of disbelief on Nero’s face made him suddenly look so much like his father but Vergil didn’t notice, too busy staring at the extinguished E that looked so dull surrounded by such neon blue lights when it should have shone as brightly as them if not more. “Hopefully, he should visit you soon.”         “ Wait! What? Why?” Nero always saw his father as an impenetrable mystery, even when he was just V, but right now he couldn’t tolerate him being so evasive.      “To give you the answers you want.” And he couldn’t not tolerate him being a stolid piece of shit either. “About my mother?” Or a mute one. But with Vergil, silence often meant a lot. “Hey! You can’t just leave me like that!” Nero caught his father’s right arm with a violent strength, a vision that stirred a new one, an old one, one Vergil regretted. “Plus, why would you send a stranger in my house to talk to me about my mother? Why don’t you do it yourself?” God! If she knew what he had done to their son. What would she say? What would she do? “Silence. I thought so. You don’t even have the courage to tell me her name so why should I expect more from you.”    In his lifetime, only a few persons had been able to defeat Vergil, one of them being his son. So, after looking down at his boots for a second, he walked away, not keen on riling up Nero even more, not today.“Elissa.⁵” The name, left unpronounced for so many years, burnt Vergil's tongue when each blazing letter, probably angry to have been reduced to dormant embers for so long, managed to escape the barrier of his tight lips. But Vergil welcomed this fiery pain without blinking and even dared say it again, embracing the ignition once more with a soft melancholic smile. He was part demon. Fire couldn't hurt him. So why being afraid of it? “Your mother’s name was Elissa.” Plus there was no danger in saying her name, just liberation. It was a beautiful name, after all. And for a second, he felt like his young self again. “Now fix it, would you?” That E meant a lot to Vergil.

REFERENCES: ¹ Adel The Honourable: Adel is a Persian name derived from the Arabic عَدَلَ meaning "to act justly". I added the title "the Honourable" to reinforce the idea his character was made to be fair, honest and just. Adel also belongs to the House of Montefeltro, a name you will discover later. ² crossbow: I intended to give Adel a simple bow as it is the weapon of righteousness (ndlr: Robin Hood) but then I chose to give him a crossbow because I thought the addition of the word "cross" was giving a religious connotation that suited his character. The fact that he lost the weapon is of course meaningful. ³ The Moor: reference to Shakespeare's Othello. ⁴ claiming she was a prostitute: This idea of Nero's mother being a prostitute was directly taken from Devil May Cry: Deadly Fortune. In the novel, we learn that Nero was often bullied by the other kids claiming his mother was a whore. ⁵ Elissa: Elissa is the other name that was given to Dido, first queen of Carthage and lover of the demi-god Aeneas, in Virgil's Aeneid. Her name is composed of the Punic reflex of "El-" meaning "god", and "‐issa" that means "fire", hence why her name burns Vergil's lips when he says it. Her name carrying the word "fire" also echoes the red colour of her dress and her hair as well as her affiliation to the House of Minos you will read about later. In a nutshell, this girl is on fire! ;-)

[godsofhumanity]

Question! You said before your opinion on Perseus and Medusa. But... what's your opinion on Theseus?

oohh, Theseus, Theseus, Theseus.

TL;DR- i don't particularly like Theseus, but i think his myth is okay as long as it doesn't involve women, because he's a little shady.

okay- his myth starts out pretty great, and he's like really noble and all, and it's wonderful. but then the whole thing with Ariadne goes down and it's pretty iffy.

i know that lots of people hate Theseus because he just "abandons" Ariadne at Naxos, but if I'm remembering correctly, there's a version of the myth where Theseus is explicitly ordered by Athena to leave Ariadne because Dionysus has called dibs. and Theseus is so heartbroken about having to leave Ariadne, that he forgets to change the sails on his ship so that his dad knows that he's alive, and then his dad thinks that Theseus is dead, and kills himself. not to mention the whole affair with Phaedra trying to sleep with Theseus' son and everyone ending up dead. it's tragedy all around, and i'll be honest- i feel bad for Theseus.

but the problems with Theseus' character, as with most Greek heroes, lie with his treatment of the various women in his life. if he did indeed love Ariadne, then based on his portrayal in later myths, i feel like she's the only one he ever truly really loved, and after losing her, his character just goes down hill, fast.

first of all, there's the kidnapping of Helen (when she was 10) and him keeping her with his mother until she was old enough to be properly married. for obvious reasons, i don't think i need to go further into why this is despicable.

then there's the stuff with him helping his bro to kidnap Persephone. now, in one account (by Diodorus Siculus, 4.63.4), Theseus actually attempts to persuade Pirithous to abandon the idea of kidnapping a literal goddess, which is good I guess. but he still goes along with it anyways, and i just... Theseus is kinda dumb.

there's also some myths concerning Hippolyta- but honestly, there aren't many favourable versions of the myth to choose from:

Hippolyta falls in love with Theseus and leaves the Amazons willingly, but the Amazons get enraged and start a war

Theseus kidnaps Hippolyta

Heracles kidnaps Hippolyta, and then gifts her to Theseus as a "spoil of war"

Theseus and Heracles work together to do a little Amazonian kidnapping

Hippolyta falls in love with Theseus and leaves the Amazons willingly, but Theseus has a change of heart and ditches her for Phaedra, thus starting a war

either way you look at it, 4 out of 5 of the versions of the myth are absolutely shit and it doesn't look spectacularly good for Theseus.

still, Theseus isn't a complete shithead. during the wedding of Pirithous and Hippodamia, Theseus actually does punish some gross centaurs who commit atrocities against the female guests at the wedding. he also helps out my boy, Oedipus, when he's out and about wandering in the wilderness.

i guess what i'm saying is that Theseus has a... diverse personality, and idk if it's easy to say whether i love him or hate him because his myths really just depend on who's writing them.

[omegas-spaghettios]

Ranking MCU Captain America figures

Before I begin, I want to clarify this is about my enjoyment of these characters and NOT who i think are the best morality or power wise. I specify because I think my first two entries will upset some people and I want to say, this list is NOT in order of how much I agree with these characters' values. I have a heavy favoritism towards theme and character interaction and that is where a lot of my enjoyment from media comes from. So, let's begin.

6. Captain America: CW, IW, and Endgame

I'm separating Steve into two because around CW he starts making decisions that really frustrate me.

Now I do think there is a lot to like still! His conviction to his morals during the Accords and continuing arc about government distrust is great, his stand against Thanos in IW is amazing, he is a lot of fun to watch during the New York part of the time heist, and lifting Mjolnir was legit my best theater moment ever and i will NEVER forget it.

However, in CW he starts making some awful decisions. In CW, he kisses Sharon like, days after Peggy's funeral. While on it's own it's already kinda creepy, Endgame retroactively makes this even worse. It goes on to also have grave consequence because he and Sam asked Sharon to break the law for them and never followed through to help her, which was pretty awful of them. At least Sam tries to make it right in TFATWS, but since Steve left that wrong on Sharon never gets reconciled from him.

I also think that his decision to keep Bucky and Howard's history a secret from Tony was really, really stupid. While I side with him during the fight, the fact that Steve "doesn't like when his teammates withhold information" Rogers didn't tell Tony this then walked into a Winter Soldier facility with Bucky and Tony during the most strained time of their relationship was just begging for that conflict.

He is barely in IW and while his stand against Thanos is a great moment, his decision to not let Vision kill himself is very frustrating. "We don't trade lives" then he goes to Wakanda to let thousands of soldiers die while they try and get the stone out, really dude?

I don't think going back in time in Endgame was inherently a bad ending but things he does to make it happen really frustrates me. He shows no signs of mourning Bucky or Sam at all. And then for the sake of surprise for the audience, he never tells Sam what he's doing and that is so awful. Sam dedicates 4 years of his life helping Steve with a good portion of it being on the run. Sam was with Steve more during the present than ANYONE else. Then Steve just leaves without telling him and shows back up to drop a ton of responsibility on Sam that he didn't ask for. Now Sam is an amazing Cap but it's frustrating to see that a lot of TFATWS is fallout of Steve's bad decisions in these three movies.

5. Captain America: John Walker

Now hold on, I hate this man. I think he does some awful things, so why is he above anyone else? Just because he isn't frustrating to me, he fits thematically and has good interactions with others in TFATWS.

His character really adds to the themes and discussions of white privilege, Supremacy, as well as how the US military treats their soldiers like shit, and I think he is an interesting character to watch as he starts out edging the line of evil and by the end of episode 4 crosses it. While I think Bucky was overall a bit too chummy with him in 6, I think it was all mostly in character for them. Sam and Bucky were up against 6 super soldiers and Batroc in a highly crowded city with lots of important people, it makes sense to me that they take his help in this scenario. They also never leave him alone which indicates distrust.

I also really like the moment where he drops the shield to help the truck. He is a shitty person but he is shown as a person who at least wants to do good, even though any challenge to that he goes off the rails. It is such a black and white scenario, help the truck of innocents, and I like that he does it. It also adds to the hatred of him as a person because it shows he clearly knows better but chooses to ignore it, which makes him even more despicable.

I think it is very important that a man like him bore the title of Captain America because it reminds us all that yes, it is very easy that a man like him represents America as it is and that we need to do better than him.

I like watching him and that's why he's above CW on Steve because he isn't making aggravatingly out of character decisions all of the time and he works very well within the themes of the show.

With me loving him in the context of TFATWS, in later appearances he does have a lot of potential to drop to last pretty easily, but as of now when he just is in that show, I appreciate his character a lot.

4. Red Guardian

I kinda like this character and idk how to feel about it

He doesn't fit Black Widow very much so he is kinda low but I mean, he's just kinda fun. His story about Captain America and the USSR is pretty non-related to the others and rather undeveloped which is frustrating, and he does very little plot significant things. He leads Nat and Yelena to Melina and that's about it. He distracts Taskmaster for a while but he kinda is just getting tossed around until Melina shows up. He isn't very important.

But I do like what I see and do hope we see more of him. They never pretend he's a great person and I do appreciate that he gets called on it constantly. His knuckles having Karl Marx on them kills me and overall he's pretty humorous and fun to watch. He also has a few great moments thematically that I love. When he comforts Yelena after the dinner scene and sings her favorite song as a kid? So heartwarming. When he took Taskmaster's shield when fleeing the Red Room I laughed at his ridiculousness but it lead to a pretty great moment, when he throws the shield through the windshield without hesitation to save Melina. It's a great moment to show how he's letting go of his past and obsessions to be there for his family.

I hope we see more of him, his overall lack of importance and stereotypical behavior kinda holds him back but I see so much potential in him.

3. Agent Carter

As of today she has been in exactly one 30 minute episode, but what I see I really like. Her laughter of surprise when she takes the tesseract is really endearing, her sword and muscles and height make my wlw heart patter, and I do like the difference in her relationship with Steve in this universe, where they both are of incredible capabilities but neither are given any respect for how they were born. We get that in TFA too but I really like that it is a constant theme in this iteration while in TFA it gets dropped a bit after Steve receives the serum.

There is very little of her so I can't really put her higher yet, but given more time she very well may rise up on this list but she had an excellent first showing.

2. Pre-CW Captain America: Steve Rogers

This man is a joy.

He is such an endearing scrappy little guy in the beginning of TFA and I love his commitment to doing the right thing. He still very much acts like a guy who just gained 120 pounds of muscle during that movie and it's endearing. The way he grows into his own skin in TWS is amazing as we see him really step in to what he can accomplish physically as well as his authority and leadership.

His Whedonisms in the first two Avengers films kinda bug me, they treat him like an old man when he isn't. Biologically he's like, early 30's at most here. He grew up as a fighter in Brooklyn then served in the military, he wouldn't care if his teammates swear, but overall it's tolerable.

I LOVE this man's commitment to transparency. He struggles when allies are not transparent and he shows nothing but transparency and I love that that is a constant for him (which is why I separate him from CW on)

Everyone loves this guy and over 90% of criticisms I see for him come after AoU, and that's for good reason, this guy is so loveable.

1. Captain America: Sam Wilson

He's so good, guys

I want to talk about Sam before the suit because he is amazing before it. He runs counseling for veterans, a profession very becoming of a superhero and it speaks to his incredible empathy and compassion that is on full display. I also think the fact that he dedicated 2 years to finding Bucky is not appreciated enough. Sure he was following Steve but he still spent 2 years trying to find Bucky, a person who tried to murder him. Yet he understands it isn't Bucky's fault and tries to help him anyway. I also really like that he is the first to speak out against the Accords. He doesn't wait for Steve or anyone else, he sees red flags and he is out and I really, really love that about him.

Then I love how long it takes for him to choose to become Cap and how much he contemplates it. He has to contemplate the legacy of Steve, if he wants to wear the symbol of this country, the pressures of being a black man as Cap, the legacy that John added to it, the pressures from Bucky and the pressures from Isaiah, and also his own legacy he carved for himself as the Falcon. It's a huge decision with a lot of weight and so many people pressuring him but he takes his time and chooses what is right for him, and I really love that about him. These other characters are all Caps from near the start but he transitions into one after years of knowing him as the Falcon and I love that he doesn't take this decision lightly.

Also as Cap he's just really cool. His decisions to not take the serum as well as try like hell to get Karli to step down speak to his humility and compassion. And while many describe his speech as bland it's still uniquely him. Yes the speech doesn't solve any problems but that isn't what he's doing, he's asking America and the world to get to actually solving them and that is an aspect of him we don't see much since Steve's propaganda days, his direct relation to the public.

Also his suit and wings are just awesome, I argue his action is the most fun to watch out of any of these characters.

Anyway yeah that's the list, I know people won't agree with me so let's try and keep discussion civil, alright?

[evienyx]

Can we hear your thoughts on Tommy? I feel like he's a very interesting character.

Okay, I held off on this for a bit, but today’s the day of the trial, so there’s no better time than the present, I suppose.

(I will add that I mostly get Tommy content in bursts, because I cannot handle watching him for longer than like twenty minutes at a time. He’s one of my favorite content creators, and incredibly talented with what he does, but he’s a lot. He’s the kinda energy that my friends and I have, and it’s jarring when I can’t directly involve myself in that chaos. My brain can’t handle it. Anyway, moving on-)

I most definitely agree that he is an interesting character. What I find the most interesting about Tommy is not his actions, though, but the way that he views himself.

Because, for the entire time that he’s been on the SMP, Tommy has always, without fail, insisted that he is right.

We saw it with the Disc Wars, when he fought for what he cared about against a tyrant, and in the L’Manburg Revolution when he fought for freedom (and drugs). All of that was clear, you know? We all got that, people agreed that he was correct.

Then, though, we got to things like the Election, and the Exile of Tommy and Wilbur, when Tommy called for rebellion, saying that he was in the right, despite Schlatt being legally elected in the country that Tommy himself helped to establish. 

It’s a case of a bit of hypocrisy, in my opinion. Yes, Tommy and Wilbur were exiled by a man who took power in a fashion that was legal but not democratic, but technically Wilbur and Tommy did, too. They were president and vice-president to lead the country, but they were never elected. And then they tried to do it again. The election only happened because they (more Wilbur, but Tommy still just agreed with his plans) wanted to consolidate power and seem like democratically elected leaders in a country they tried to establish with democracy, without actually having a democracy.

(One other thing I will mention is how the ground rules of L’Manburg are very weak for a country. Yes, I know it’s Minecraft, but this is serious Minecraft. They have a rule of no Americans (which I am offended by because I would like nothing more than to not be from America, I didn’t get to choose), but they don’t have guidelines for the powers of the president? They made a democracy, and then gave the president near-absolute power once they are elected. What did they think was going to happen???)

Moving on, we go through all these points in the story thinking to ourselves that Tommy is in the right, because of course he is, why wouldn’t he be? We never wonder whether we’re a bit biased, if we’re only looking at things from a certain point of view, Tommy’s own.

Then, though, everything changes when the festival is announced and Wilbur voices what everyone is secretly thinking: “Are we villains, in this story?”

For those few moments, Wilbur feels a bit like we, as the viewers, do, asking Tommy, a bit desperately, “We’re the right. We agree that we’re in the right, here?”

And Tommy responds with, “Well, I’m always in the right, so...”

This line is often brushed over, or garners a few chuckles at the most, but it’s actually incredibly interesting to think about how this reflects on Tommy’s character.

I’m always in the right.

Tommy, with this one line, tells us that he does not doubt himself. He not only has full confidence in what he does, but he is completely certain of his morals, and he is completely sure that he has never done the wrong thing. Anyone who stands against him is evil, is the villain, because Tommy is always in the right, and anyone who isn’t with Tommy, therefore, must be in the wrong.

This makes it very easy to draw a line in the sand separating the good from the bad, both in the mind of Tommy and in the mind of his viewer. If someone only watched from Tommy’s perspective, there would be no doubt about who was right and who was wrong, because, it’s as Tommy says, he is always in the right. A Tommy viewer might leave the battle of Manburg vs. Pogtopia, as well as the destruction of L’Manburg, believing wholeheartedly that Techno is a villain, is a despicable traitor, ignoring the fact that Techno was technically the one who was betrayed in this scenario (go back and read my (small) Techno analysis for more details on that if you want).

Tommy operates the exact same way. As he believes himself to always be in the right, he sees no reason to change his ways, and so he never looks at things from anyone else’s perspective to see if both of them have a bit of good in what they’re doing, because why would he, if he already knows that he’s always in the right?

This point was set to the side for a bit, but comes back in full force just a few days ago, when Tommy burned down George’s house. Specifically, though, we see it in the way that he proclaimed that he had not done it, despite the overwhelming cry that said the opposite. Dream and George did not seem to shake him in what he had done, but Tubbo did, because then Tubbo, who has always been by Tommy’s side, is suddenly not.

And despite the fact that Tommy stays strong in his stance that he is innocent (even though everyone knows he isn’t), it’s this threat, of possible exile and Tubbo trading away his discs, that seems to shake Tommy more than anything. We know this because then, as the stream draws to a close, Tommy wonders, for the first time, if he was wrong in his viewpoint. He wonders if Techno was right all along, and if he himself had made the wrong choice. He pushes these contemplations away quickly, asserting to himself that Techno was wrong, and Tommy hadn’t made a mistake, but the uncertainty remains clear. It is a sign of cracks in a resolve that, up until this point, has been stronger than anything physical in the entirety of this server.

What’s even more interesting is the way that Tommy seems to have convinced himself that he is good. He’s said many times in the recent streams that he does not want to be a bad guy. He does not want a corruption arc, he wants to be good and stand at Tubbo’s side, and he wants to stay firmly in the right. 

In my opinion, exiling Tommy, having everyone against him again, would be one of the best things for his character, simply because it is something that he is not even allowing the light of day to think about. If Tommy was kicked out of the country he’s fought for and died for twice, now, especially by his best friend, when he has been so firm in his beliefs and wants to be the hero of the story, it would completely throw his character for a loop, because this is a scenario he refuses, at the moment, to even consider. It would thrust his character into a situation that he has expressly been trying to avoid, and I, for one, would love to see it.

Anyway, yeah, the thing that most interests me about Tommy’s character is the way he views himself as the hero and, no matter what, insists that he is in the right, and I would love to see what would happen should those beliefs be directly challenged.

What’s a boy on the side of good meant to do when the side of good turns against him?

I, for one, would love to find out.

[kazuharem]

ok, angsty luci! i found this quote and kind of wanna see what you can do with it~ “doesn’t it bother you? that they refuse to see the good in you, that they choose to only focus on your faults and mistakes?” she asks him. he turns his head and looks for the horizon. “why should it? we’re all bad in someone’s story.” 👀👀

(Below contains an image not yet released in EN server)

Hi Grace! I loved receiving this request from you! (Cuz god knows how angst runs through my veins. And when it’s Lucien angst.... I just- *chef’s kiss*). Believe me when I say I love Lucien, okay. But something about Lucien angst.... is just so addictive.

Also, some of y’all seem to forget that I’m an ANGST writer (as well as smut) with all the requests I’ve been getting as of late... So this is my gentle reminder for you that I am indeed, an angsty soul 🤣

Anyways, thank you for requesting this (and helping me brainstorm hehe), this is dedicated to you, my friend 💜 @tartagilicious

───── ⋆⋅ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ⋅⋆ ─────

“We’re All Bad in Someone’s Story” ↠  LUCIEN [ANGST]

Characters: Lucien, Victor, mentions of MC (Female)

Genre: Angst (Pure Unadulterated Angst, A N G S T - You have been warned) *insert Lucien clutching chest*

Word Count: 1,312

A/N: Set after Ch. 13 (Lucien’s betrayal), mentions of established relationship between Lucien and Female MC, and let’s pretend Victor’s little time travel thingie didn’t happen

Summary: With her no longer trusting Lucien, Lucien goes to Victor with a request.

Lucien gazed across the expanse of city lights before him. It should’ve been a beautiful sight, but now, there was no beauty left in this world. Not for him. Not anymore.

“Was any of it true? Everything that you told me? It was all lies?”

He could still see the moment when her heart had shattered. Because of him.

The moment her tears had spilled from her beautiful eyes, he had wanted to run over immediately and wanted to pull her into his chest, just like he had done countless times. But he couldn’t. 

And when the moment she had put the pen that he had gifted her to her neck, his entire world had stopped. He had been forced to keep his emotions under control, to not let anything slip out from the mask he had crafted as he had watched crimson blood flow from her neck. He had felt his heart break along with hers. A heart, Lucien didn’t even know he had.

Foolish girl. Didn’t I warn you? 

A shaky sigh was exhaled from his mouth, exceptionally loud in the still air.

But he had tried so hard, hadn’t he? At the beginning, didn’t he try so hard to ignore her, to ignore the blossoming feelings she had planted within his cold, empty heart. The fact that she alone was able to make the seeds she had sowed grow into a beautiful, passionate yearning was a feat of its own.

“Will you miss me if I do leave?”

He remembered the way she had nodded enthusiastically without hesitation at his question.

“I’m the fool,” he muttered. There was a broken laugh, bitter and grating. 

Lucien looked up heavenward. The sparkling stars he had seen with her were now dull and gray.

“How unfortunate,” only the stars could hear his cracked whisper, “To fall in love with such a wretched man... And I, that wretched man, fell in love with you...only...to break your heart...”

The gentle hum of a car’s engine interrupted him and Lucien turned his head to see a man in a dark suit stepping out, the headlights illuminating the man’s silhouette.

“You asked to see me, Professor Lucien?” The man walked up to Lucien as he spat out his name. The expression on his face was severe. His eyes narrowed, “Or do I call you Ares now?” Indigo eyes met violet ones challengingly. 

“It appears that you’ve already been informed,” Lucien answered casually, schooling his expression into a calm mask, “Victor.”

Victor scowled, “What do you want? Why did you call me?”

“I know you’re busy, but I would just like to ask for a bit of your time,” Lucien said coolly. 

“You have no right to be making demands right now,” The words were nearing a low growl. “Not after what you did to her.”

“I’ll live with the consequences,” Lucien stated softly.

Victor laughed humorlessly, “And her? How do you plan for her to go on? Now after you’ve dumped her like some useless toy.”

“I suggest you get your facts straight before accusing me of anything,” Lucien’s voice was frigid; there was absolutely no trace of warmth. “I’m doing this for her good. To ensure her safety.”

“From you.”

“I’m not here to argue with you tonight,” Lucien smiled tightly. “I just have two requests to ask of you.”

Victor crossed his arms, “What do you want?”

Lucien exhaled, “It would appear that you care for her. And I imagine, with all comfort you’ve given her, she...cares for you as well.”

“What do you want?” Victor repeated, impatience creeping into his voice.

There was a pause.

“My first request is to ask that you keep her safe...Protect her in my stead...” Lucien spoke slowly.

“That’s hardly a request,” Victor scoffed, “I’m not protecting her for you. I’m protecting her from you.”

Lucien nodded once. “I understand. I just want her...to be safe.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed, “And what good does this do for you?”

“I’m prepared to lose the only color in my world,” Lucien’s voice was steady, betraying no sign of his inner turmoil. He turned to look at the man beside him, “Tell me, what are you prepared to lose?” The words carried a hint of underlying threat.

“I don’t lose,” Victor responded flatly.

“No? What about the girl you had yearned for so ardently? The girl whom you’ve searched for all these years?” Lucien couldn’t help but challenge.

Victor’s jaw clenched, “I won’t lose her,” his voice was sure and confident, leaving no room for argument. “Not like you did.”

“Very well,” Lucien conceded with a slight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. He turned away to watch the city spread before him.

“The other request, what is it?” Victor spoke up after a brief silence. “You asked me to keep her safe, what’s the other request?”

Lucien watched the scene before him, a faraway look in his eyes. There was a touch of melancholy about him. “Keep her safe,” he repeated softly, the words carrying easily through the tranquil air. “And...Please let her be happy.”

Victor did not reply.

Lucien turned to leave, offering Victor a polite nod, “I hope you can honor these requests.”

“Does it not bother you?” Victor spoke up before he could leave. Lucien stopped, but did not turn to look at him. Victor continued, “Does it not bother you now that she found out who you really are? Now that she thinks of you as her rival instead of her lover?”

Lucien gave a soft chuckle, “Why should it bother me? After all, we’re all bad in someone else’s story,” he replied placidly. “Now, if you will excuse m-”

“Did you love her?” Victor cut him off, curt and cold. “Did you ever love her?”

Lucien stilled, his face ever so unreadable. There was a deprecating laugh. 

“How could such a despicable man like me ever be capable of love?” He finally responded, smiling thinly. He turned on his heel and walked away, until he was out of Victor’s line of sight.

As soon as he could no longer see the bright beams of the headlights, he doubled over, gasping. Steadying himself on the trunk of a tree, he took in great shuddering breaths.

A choked groan came out of his mouth as the pressure in his chest built. 

How ironic, he thought to himself, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. A pathetic man like me is capable of tears after all. A single tear traced its way down his cheek as he closed his eyes. He collapsed against the tree, sliding down the trunk until he sat at the base of tree. His head sank into his hands.

Images of her played behind his eyes. The way her eyes had lit up with such innocence, such joy when he had taken her to see the vibrant maple trees in Canada. The way she had taken him in that night when he was testing her, patching him up without a single moment of hesitation. The way she had trusted him wholeheartedly with no questions asked. The way she had loved him unconditionally despite knowing he had secrets, the him who was undeserving of such pure love. 

��Ha..” Lucien gave a strangled laugh. “I am indeed...wretched...”

He reached into his jacket pocket and opened his hand. In it, lay a peace knot. The one she had gifted him with a brilliant smile and a wish hoping he would be happy and healthy. It was frayed in some places. He could no longer remember what colors it used to be. Now it appeared to him in varying shades of gray. His fingers closed over it tenderly, holding it carefully.

“If only...you hadn’t met me...” He whispered, “I hope...my little butterfly will be happy and healthy from now on...I hope, she’ll be safe...” A broken sob broke out from his throat. “Victor...is good for you, little butterfly... So fly away and be free. Be free of this wretched man who had wanted to keep you in a glass jar forever.” He pressed his lips against the peace knot softly. 

“And...I hope you won’t mind this wretched man for wanting to love you just a little bit more... little butterfly, don’t let this man’s ugly blacks and whites stain your beautiful wings...and fly away...”

───── ⋆⋅ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ⋅⋆ ─────

A/N Part II: I’m...a Lucien stan I swear. I absolutely, positively love this man with every fiber of my entire being. I just couldn’t resist. Don’t worry, I’m sobbing as well. Also, I love me some good old rivalry between Lucien and Victor. *Cue TENSION* But if you are too sad from this Lucien angst, I have a treat in store for you. It involves FLUFF annnnnnd (sneak peak) wedding stuffs. Stay tuned!

To the Nonnys in my asks, I promise I’m working on your requests! (I just wanted to get through the drabbles before I launch myself into full-blown 10k word fics again). 

If the rest of you would like to request something, as always, my ask and/or messages are open!

Part II: here

More of my work: 📖

[niksixx]

Number 73

Requested: Anonymously 

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader 

Description: “Hi it’s Tuesday so can I request a smut oneshot where reader is harsh to Axl cuz she thinks of him as a selfish womanizer, and he thinks she’s cold and pretentious so they’re basically enemies, but deep inside she’s unable to resist his hotness so when she’s with her friend she blurts our that she wants him to f*** her or sth, but actually axl accidentally overhears it and next day becomes her worst(best) day?” 

Warning: Smuuuut 

A/N: Reblog please !

*GIF is NOT mine, found on Google. Credit to the owner!* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My God, have they come up for air yet?” Y/B/F asks, eyes bugging out of her head.

Without looking, you already know who Y/B/F is talking about. “Let me guess. Blonde. Skinny. Around 5’6, 5’7. Tits squeezed into a shirt that’s too tight.”

“Holy shit,” Duff grins. “Spot on.”

Rolling your eyes, you look over your shoulder, scoffing at how disgustingly accurate your prediction was. The blonde is leaned against the bar, arms wrapped loosely around Axl’s neck as their tongues clash in a heated kiss. Soon, he’d ditch her though, and find the next best thing. That’s just how Axl operated.

“He’s a pig,” you whisper, but Slash hears every word.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone is jealous.”

You scoff. “Please. I have respect for myself, you know.”

Just as you suspected, Blondie trickled back to her friends, and Axl was on the prowl. You watch as he sidles up next to a brunette this time, turning on his charm. Their tongues are down each other's throats less than a minute later.

“Man, he’s good,” Izzy pipes up for the first time that night, earning a laugh from his friends and a death stare from his fiance.

Well, at least Axl’s friends weren’t despicable, womanizing assholes. All were dating, engaged, or married. None of them ever felt the need to sleep around, even though they’ve had plenty of chances. But Axl? It sent him on some sort of power trip.

Swirling the straw in your rum and coke, you turn your eyes down at the drink, leaning a cheek on your palm. It’s a shame Axl’s personality was shitty. He was an attractive man who knew how to please a woman. Not that you’d know, but damn if you wouldn’t love to find out.

Twenty minutes later, a drunk Axl falls clumsily into the chair beside you, earning stifled laughs from his bandmates. You roll your eyes and scoot away from him, only to be stopped by his hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Where’re you going?” He smiles lazily at you.

Conveniently, you notice your empty glass and you stand. “Anywhere you’re not.”

Steven hollers loudly as Axl’s jaw immediately tenses up. Shooting him a smirk, you find yourself heading over to the bar, turning in your empty glass and ordering three tequila shots.

“Rough night?” The bartender asks as she places the shot glasses in front of you.

You groan. “You have no idea.”

The shot glass touches your lips but before you have the chance to taste the bitter liquid, a man pushes his way through the crowd, nearly knocking into you, before settling himself beside you at the bar. “I’ll take three of whatever she’s having,” Axl flauts a fifty dollar bill in his hand, sending a wink to the bartender before smirking down at you.

“Charming,” you say, downing the tequila. It burns, and you kick yourself for not ordering a few limes to go with it.

“I know, I know,” Axl gloats. “It’s one of my best traits.”

“Clearly you lack the capacity to understand sarcasm.”

Axl grabs his first glass, drinking the liquid with ease. “And clearly you lack the ability to be nice. What’s your problem, hm? You always have this stuck up, bitchy attitude. I promise you, sweetheart,” Axl’s face is dangerously close to yours, and you pray he can’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. “You’re not all that.”

“Oh, and you are?” On a normal day, you’d let Axl’s comments roll off your shoulders. The highlight of his day would be insulting you, teasing you, and irritating the fuck out of you. And somehow he always got to you before you could say anything back. This time, though, you’re determined to stand your ground and speak the fuck up.

“Of course I am. Take a good look at who I am, angel,” Axl holds out his arms as if he believes you’ll actually admire him. “I’m Axl fucking Rose for shit’s sake. Rock legend, millionaire, ladies man.”

“Actually,” You lean closer to him, finger rimming the shot glass. “You wanna know what I really think of you?”

“Enlighten me,” he says, teeth biting the corner of his bright pink lip. “Tell me everything I want to hear.”

“I think,” you whisper, body slightly pressing against his side. His eyes are dark, lustful, and they betray him. “That you’re a selfish, stuck up prick that never got any attention as a child, and that’s why you crave it now. You have commitment issues, which is why you’re a shag ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. You’re a womanizing bastard and you know no woman would ever willingly choose to be with someone like you, and that is why your life revolves around sex. Sex is the only way women give you attention. And that,” your lips graze his ear. “Is truly fucking pathetic.”

Axl stares angrily as you down the second shot, staring back at him with such animosity burning in your eyes, he almost believes you truly hate him. But the hatred in your eyes is mixed with something else, and he can’t quite figure it out. As he replays your words over in his head, it hits him.

Jealousy.

Axl isn’t prepared for the next words that come out of his mouth, but he takes a shot of tequila anyway for courage. “And I think,” he creeps closer to your body, maneuvering around the tight crowd so your back is pressed against the bar, trapping you in his arms. “That you are so beyond jealous that I haven’t fucked you yet.”

Your eyes nearly roll out of your head as Axl laughs at your expression. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Axl prodes, eyes flickering to your lips. For a moment it seems as if he’s going to kiss you. “If I said let’s go back to my house right now, what would you say?”

“I’d say fuck no.”

“Riiiight,” he taunts, inching closer to your face. “And you actually think I believe that?”

“You should,” You briefly turn in his arms to finish the third shot before turning back, chest heaving, thoughts racing, pussy throbbing. He’s dangerously close and you need to get out of there, and fast, before you act on your thoughts. “Because I would never fuck someone whose dick has been shoved in about twenty different girls.”

“More like seventy-two, but who’s keeping track?” Axl winks, backing up to set you free.

Stomach twisting, you shoot Axl the most disgusted look you could manage. “You’ve had sex with seventy-two women?”

“And counting,” He grins, eyes racking your body. “Wanna be number seventy-three?”

~

One too many tequila shots later, you’re stumbling down the street with Y/B/F right behind you. The liquor had hit when you least expected, and tequila mixed with anger was a deadly combination.

“Seventy-two women!” You shout, leaning on a nearby pole to regain your balance. “He’s fucked seventy-two women,” your chuckle is empty, “And he...and he asked me, me! If I wanted to be...be his number seventy-three.”

“Does that surprise you?” Y/B/F asks. “You said it yourself. He’s a pig.”

“I know and it’s even worse because I’d love nothing more than to be number seventy-three!” Axl hit the nail on the head when he called you out for being jealous. You weren’t just jealous. No, observing his hookups with random girls and hearing stories about them the next day was infuriating. You’d never even been a choice to him.

“You don’t mean that,” says Y/B/F, helping you off the pole. “You’re just a little too drunk.”

“No, Y/B/F, I’m serious.” The purse in your hand slaps against your thigh, free hand smacking your forehead. “I’ve wanted him for years, but I’ve never been good enough. I don’t want to date him or anything, I know he’s not really into that, but goddamn it can’t a woman get a little hate sex in her life? I hate him, he can’t stand me. It’s the perfect fuck.”

Y/B/F grabs your hand, rolling their eyes as they help you inside a cab. “Jesus, Y/N, quiet down before someone hears you.”

But it was too late for that, as just a few paces away Axl stood in the back alley of the bar, phone lifted to his ear, cigarette hanging from his mouth as it narrowed in a smirk. You wanted hate sex? Oh, he’d give just that.

~

As you sit on your couch, TV on low volume, book in your lap, you try to ignore the aches in your body. As you discovered this morning just by emptying your guts into the toilet, tequila was not your friend. This hangover was the worst one you’d had, and even though it was your fault you’d drank too much, you’d subconsciously blame Axl for making you so hot and bothered, you felt drowning yourself in liquor was the only way to handle it.  

There’s a knock on your front door and luckily you’d kept it unlocked. You had no intention of moving from the couch other than to go to the bathroom. “It’s open!”

Your eyes don’t leave the page in front of you, too engrossed in the scene playing out, until the all familiar voice has you slowly looking up from the book. “You look like shit.”

“Always the charmer, eh, Axl?” Snapping your book shut, you chuck it beside you, pulling the blanket to your chin. “What do you want?”

Your pupils dilate as Axl pulls his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Wandering eyes run over his chest. He’s not like other men. He doesn’t have hard pectorals or the outline of six pack abs, and you like that about him. You also like that he’s standing in front of you shirtless, but you don’t have a guess as to why. “Two words. Hate sex.”

Your breath hitches as he moves toward you. Instinctively, you shoot off the couch. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, but you need to get out of here right now.”

“Cute shorts,” Axl gestures to the soft gray pajama bottoms that are two sizes too short, the curve of your ass peeking out, giving him a show. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You move around the couch, Axl watching you like his prey. His thumbs are hooked around the belt loops on his jeans as he shuffles his feet along the floor.

“I was drunk,” you admit, eyes flitting around the room, looking at anything other than the man in front of you.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” He says back, folding his arms across his chest. “I know you’re not a huge fan of me. I don’t particularly like you either. But what I do like is sex,” The bulge in his pants hardens, and you beg yourself not to look. “So, how about it, sweetheart?”

You hate the effect he has on you. He knows you want him, he knows he has total control over you now. But you can’t give into him. You won’t. “Get out.”

His demeanor falls briefly, as if maybe he’d read you wrong. “Are you serious?”

“I said get out, Axl.” Walking around the couch, you position yourself in front of him, lightly pushing his chest. “Now.”

He doesn’t budge. “You’re joking.”

“I said get out.”

His head tilts, but he backs up slowly. You follow him toward the door, heart thumping against your chest. Fucking hell, this was your chance! Why were you kicking him out?

“So last night was just a lie,” Axl responds, pursing his lips.

“No, Axl, it wasn’t a fucking lie,” Again, you shove his chest. “I want you. I really fucking want you. But for the six years we’ve known each other, you’ve never given me so much as a fucking wink. For some reason, I’ve never been good enough for you to fuck.”

“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it?” Axl taunts, shoulder leaning against the doorframe. “I knew you were jealous. And I’ve got to be honest, it looks hot on you.”

“Just go, Axl.”

“You don’t want me to go,” his voice is low, raspy, and if he doesn’t leave now, you may just pull him back in. “I know you don’t.”

“Axl, goddamn it--.”

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into his body, lips molding against yours. His lips feel just as you imagined. Warm and soft.

He moves them against your mouth with such expertise it was easy to let him guide you. With his free hand he shuts the door behind him as you cling to his body, locking your arms behind his head.

His tongue explores your mouth, claiming you with each sweep of his tongue. He sucks your bottom lip and a moan escapes you. He kisses like an angel, but he’s anything but.

Axl’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. He whispers “jump” into your mouth and you do, legs locking around his waist, never breaking the kiss. Heat crackles between the two of you, and you’re overwhelmed with the need to feel his skin.

Axl walks the two of you back into the living room, gently lying you on the couch. His lips disconnect from yours and you groan in want, but his lips find their way to your neck and you relax.

“So needy,” he whispers against the base of your throat. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “This is in the way.” In a swift motion, Axl rids you of your shirt, running the tip of my tongue over each of your nipples. They perk, and he smirks before closing his lips around the bud, flicking his tongue and softly biting the peaks. Arching your back forces more of your breast in his mouth, and you hook a leg around his waist, bucking your hips upward. “I need you.”

“Be a good girl and wait,” He demands, licking and kissing a line down your belly. He stops at your shorts, kissing your navel once before slowly dragging the shorts down your legs. He kisses the top of your underwear line, lowering his head until his mouth hovers above your clothed center, gently kissing the fabric. Your hips thrust upward in a frenzy. “Touch me, please.”

He says nothing as he takes his time pulling down your underwear. It’s been months since you’d been intimate, and the shyness takes over. Your legs try to squeeze shut, but Axl pushes them back open again. “You’re not hiding from me. I’ll stare at your pussy all day if I want to.”

His tongue licks a stripe up your center before disappearing between your silky folds. Wetness gathers between your thighs and he laps at it, sending a shutter of pleasure throughout your body. He licks and licks, using the tip and flattening his tongue, but what sends you over the edge is his lips sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your toes are curling and your chest is heaving. You do your best to suck in heaps of air, but you can’t focus on breathing as his tongue swirls around your clit.

You want to watch him. Back resting against the couch pillow, you hold yourself up on your elbows just in time to see Axl spit on your pussy. His thumb spreads the saliva across your clit, flicking it rather quickly.

His middle finger slides into your hole, wetness coating the digit as it pumps in and out of your folds. Axl adds his ring finger next, using his free hand to spread you open more. “So tight, sweetheart. Gotta loosen you up a bit so you can take my cock.”

You moan at the vulgarness of his words. This what exactly how you’d pictured sex with Axl. The dirty talk. The fingering. The gentle licks on your clit. This is what you’d been fucking wait for.

Your head falls back as his tongue finds your pussy again, the sensation of his fingers and tongue making your head fall back. “Fuck, fuck, Axl.”

“Yes, baby, I’m gonna fuck you.”

Cold air hits your clit as Axl pulls back, hands finding his jeans and pulling them down his legs. He kicks them off to the side, eyes locking with yours as he fists himself through his boxers. You reach out for him but he slaps your hand away, sliding the boxers down his thighs. His cock springs to life, thankful to not be constricted any longer. He’s long and hard with a few veins on the underside, and you whimper at the sight of precum that dribbles down the head. “Sit up.”

At that point, you’ll do anything he says. Axl sits, hand stroking his dick as you crawl over him, positioning your pussy directly over his cock. You lower yourself a bit, clit brushing against the soft head, and even Axl moans this time. His hands grab your hips, and together you lower yourself down, stifling a cry as his dick forces itself inside your hole, stretching your walls.

Axl’s mouth falls open as you sink yourself lower onto his cock. His hands never leave your hips, but instead aids in the bouncing of your ass against his thighs as you maneuver yourself up and down, up and down. Your tits are perched perfectly in front of him and he licks his lips in delight as he captures a nipple, swirling his tongue in circles.

Your body explodes in pleasure, from the tongue on your breasts to the dick burying itself in your cunt. Hands on Axl’s chest, you balance yourself over top of him, slightly craning your head back to watch as his cock slides in and out of your slick pussy.

Axl’s hand grips your face, turning you back to face him. “This is what you wanted?” He grunts out, hips thrusting upward to meet your hips. “You wanted me to fuck you like a whore?”

Your toes curl. Your legs squeeze against his thighs. Your head falls forward against his, breath fanning over his face as his hand squeezes your jawline. This is all you wanted, and even if you had to wait six years for it, it was worth it.

“Come on, ride my cock.” He grunts harshly as your hips pound against his legs, riding his dick as if there were no tomorrow. Like your life depended on it.

Your pussy clenches around him, and that all too familiar bubble in the pit of your belly only grows as Axl continues his pounding into you. He thrusts at lightning speed, and you’re so caught off guard you reach for the back of the couch, holding on as he fucks the daylights out of you.

“Axl! Shit, shit,” His balls slap against your underside, arms wrapping around your middle to steady you against him. “I’m gonna--fuck I’m--coming!”

Your thighs shake violently as you come, juices spilling out of your pussy, dripping down your legs, and puddling on Axl’s thighs. His load shoots into you and he pulls your forward, nuzzling his face between your breasts, breathing hard. With every twitch of his cock, you moan a little louder.

You close your eyes, steadying your breath as you come down from your sex high. Axl licks his lips, eyes trained on your mouth, and you lean in to kiss him, but your lips never meet as he pulls back.

“This can’t happen again.”

The words stun you as he slides his cock out of you. He stands from the couch, pulling on his boxers and pants before pulling his shirt down over his head, leaving you to process his words. This can’t happen again. Why the hell not?

“Wait, what?” You shoot off the couch, flustered and completely naked. Axl’s eyes run up and down your body, and you can see it in his face, he wants you. But something is holding him back. “I just had the best fucking day of my life, and you tell me it’ll never happen again?”

He shrugs, finishing the button on his jeans. There’s something sad in his eyes, and your heart breaks. “I don’t fuck the same girl twice.”

He turns, and you chase after him. Axl just gets to the door before you grab his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at you. “So that’s fucking it? You’re just going to leave?”

Axl nods, biting the corner of his mouth. “One and done, sweetheart. That’s all I can offer you.”

“But,” you stutter, unable to control the tears pricking your eyes. “But I thought-.”

“That fucking you would be different?” He asks, swallowing nervously as the tears in your eyes break free. Damn it. He wanted to be gone before the waterworks started. “That I’d want to be with you? We’re enemies, Y/N. Our personalities clash. You’re a bitch and I’m...well...you were right. I’m a bastard that only wants sex. You were never an exception,” Axl blows out a breath and watches as your face falls dejectedly. “You were just number seventy-three.”

[sweetsassymusic]

The Long Kaz Rant I Told Myself I Wouldn’t Write, But Here We Are

This is probably an unpopular opinion. And I hope it doesn't come across as confrontational or anything because I don't mean it that way. But I've always been super confused by the way Kaz is accepted, basically across the entire fandom, as either morally gray or straight up villainous? He doesn’t really seem like either of those things to me. On a surface level, obviously there are things he’s done that are normally considered evil. He’s stolen, he’s killed, he threatened a child, he gouged out someone’s eye. And that’s all pretty bad, right? But it completely ignores the context given in the books. (More after the cut because this got too long...)

There’s a difference between doing something evil and doing something that’s shocking, “dark,” or difficult to watch.

Before I read the books, I heard fans discuss all the horrible things Kaz does. And the way people talk about him, I was expecting him to be… Feral Kaz – someone who delights in doing horrible things because he’s just so twisted and angry. The author herself even referred to him on her blog as being utterly despicable. Wow! This guy must really go out of his way to hurt innocent people, huh? So when I sat down to actually read it, I was so surprised. Most (if not all?) the killings were done on some level of self-defense. His “murder victims” were actual evil people trying to kill him or someone he loved. And the reason he threatened a child was because the only alternative was killing her – something he would never want to do. You know, because he’s not evil.

I don’t know if I just have very different definitions of these terms than most people? But to me, the idea of Kaz being “utterly despicable” should not even be on the table to begin with (Leigh Bardugo, you good?) and even the idea of him being “morally gray” is questionable.

When I think of a morally good character, I don’t think of someone who never does anything questionable or always perfectly makes the correct choices. I think of someone who is on a mission–either to protect the world, a loved one, or simply pursuing a personal goal–who at least tries to conduct his mission in a way that either does no harm to others, or (when that’s not possible) does as little harm as necessary to get the job done. 

Whereas, when I think of a villainous character, I think of someone who has no regard for others at all. Someone who either relishes in harming the innocent, or pays zero consideration to whether he harms innocents while pursuing his goals (which are usually, in themselves, harmful to innocent people). 

And finally, when I think of a morally gray character, I think of someone directly between these two. Someone who is a little bit evil, a little bit sadistic, but not entirely evil. He’s got a few good points too. Maybe he’s someone who keeps switching sides, unsure if he wants to be a hero or villain. Maybe he has hurt a lot of innocent people unnecessarily, but he joins in with the good guys for personal gain, and people don’t mind him there simply because he doesn’t interfere with the protagonist’s goals. Or maybe he’s the “Bad Cop” to someone else’s Good Cop: someone who uses more violence than is necessary, just for fun, but still helps the good side in some capacity, so everyone chooses to look past it.

Under these definitions, Kaz (to me) seems more like a good character. While pursuing his personal goals, he protects people he loves, and yes, he does do “dark” things. But he doesn’t relish in doing them (despite his reputation in-universe of being a chaotic sadist. His reputation is not accurate; he invented it for his own protection). He does them because he has to. If he can get the job done right without hurting anyone, that’s the route he’ll take. But that option isn’t always available. And he’s not the type to lie down and die just to avoid getting his hands dirty (nor should he, imo). 

Again, maybe I just have a different idea of what constitutes being morally gray. But I always thought it was meant to be a judgment on the choices you make when you actually HAVE a choice? A morally gray character has the choice to be good or evil, and they choose to do both (which one depending on how they feel that day). 

Whereas, if you do something “bad” because circumstances force you to do it–because you or someone you love will die otherwise–that’s pretty much the same as having a gun to your head. You’re not morally gray. You’re doing it under duress. It’s survival, not a reflection of where you stand on moral topics. Like, if you trap a vegan in a room with only a piece of meat, and you leave them there for days, weeks, that person doesn’t suddenly become a “fake vegan” if they eat that meat to avoid literally starving to death. You forced them to do it. When it comes to their moral beliefs, they would still be a vegan if they had the freedom to make that choice. You just put them in a situation where those choices aren’t available to them. Your lack of freedom in a situation shouldn’t define you.

The same can be said for placing a starving, homeless orphan boy alone in the dog-eat-dog world of Ketterdam. The option of being a sweet little law-abiding citizen is not available to him. So is it really fair to define him by something in which he had no choice?

I’ve come across so many GrishaVerse fans who, while sipping on their Starbucks in the comfort of their own home, go “Ugh, Kaz. He’s so DARK, so EVIL!” (Fun fact: while my mom was watching the show, she said Kaz is evil because “he seems to always have a plan.” Oh no! Not PLANS!)  “He must be some kind of monster to be able to do the things he does and still live with himself! I could NEVER do those things!” Well…you’ve never actually had to do those things? Your life has never depended on it? Idk, to me, it’s just a very privileged take. And I’m not trying to make this into a big social issue. It’s not like criticism against a fictional character is anywhere near the same level of importance as the issues marginalized people are facing in real life. I’m just saying, it’s very easy to condemn activity you’ve never been forced to engage in for your own survival.

One of the biggest reasons people have given me for why they think Kaz is evil is that he is “for himself.” Even the author said she thinks Kaz is worse than the Darkling (who, I’ve gotten the impression, she believes to be irredeemable) because the Darkling has communal goals (he wants to bring positive change for other people/the world at large) while Kaz’s goals are just personal (he wants to bring positive change for himself and only himself). And for one? It just isn’t true: many (if not most) of the things Kaz does is either for his Crows or for his late brother; he just disguises it with supposed self-interest for the sake of his reputation. And second? It’s…not actually wrong to have personal goals or to act in self-interest. Bettering your own life is a valid desire. It’s not the same as being selfish. Not everything you do has to be for other people.

(And, tbh, this is something Leigh Bardugo seems to have a problem with in general, not just in this scenario. I could write a whole separate rant about other characters that were demonized in-narrative for engaging in “too much” self-care, and how her unforgivingly black and white morality ruined the Shadow and Bone trilogy for me. Worst of all, she even seemed to imply recently that the only reason real-life antisemitism is wrong is because “the Jews didn’t fight back”? [Like, if they had met her criteria of “fighting back”, would that make antisemitism somewhat justified to her? What? Idek, but she should really clarify.] Basically, she seems to take “non-selfishness” to an extreme. I don’t know her personally, I don’t want to make assumptions, I don’t have anything personal against her, and I’m not trying to get her cancelled or anything, I promise. But please, when you read her books, please don’t accept all her ideas at face value, because there’s some Weird Shit™ in there sometimes.)

Anyway, another reason people say Kaz is bad or morally gray is that he wants revenge. “Revenge is a bad coping mechanism! You should want JUSTICE! Not REVENGE!” And again, this argument is wild to me. I mean, yes, there are situations–especially in real life, modern, western contexts–where revenge is a bad coping mechanism someone has developed, and transforming their anger into a desire for justice is a way for them to overcome that and express their anger in a healthier way. But that’s a very specific scenario. When we’re talking generally, the line between revenge and justice is a lot thinner than people think (and in some scenarios, there is no line at all). 

For example, real life victims and their families often say they can’t wait to see the perpetrator rot in prison, even wishing (sometimes even fantasizing) that the guy gets abused in prison by fellow inmates. For them, justice and revenge are wrapped up together in one big court-issued sentence. And while some people find that disturbing or take issue with it, it’s…generally considered valid outrage? This guy is evil and hurt them, so it’s okay for these people to want him to suffer. And most importantly, these people called the cops instead of taking matters into their own hands, therefore they’re Good, right? They’re good citizens who obey and rely on the established authority, therefore they are handling their anger in an Acceptable™ way?

But in the world of Ketterdam, if someone has victimized you, or is trying to kill you or someone you love, you can’t just call the fucking cops (and let’s be honest, looking at irl cops, it’s a questionable idea here too sometimes). If we’re analyzing Kaz’s outrage and how he handles it, we have to analyze it in the context of where he lives, not where we live. We have options in our lives that Kaz doesn’t have. So we have to ask, what are the most productive steps he could realistically take in his world?

I see activists and bloggers on websites like this, publicly fantasizing about gouging the eyes out of certain politicians and right-wing figureheads. And they would probably do it for real if they could. On Tumblr and Twitter, this is generally considered righteous anger. The politicians are evil, so it’s okay to hurt them, right? That’s how the logic goes, anyway (I know some will disagree, but it’s a common take here). Well, imagine if, instead of just being a bigot, one of these evil people personally stabbed–possibly killed–your girlfriend. And there were no cops to call, no news stations or social media to turn to, to show people what this guy did. No authority or community on your side. No way to ensure this guy faced consequences for his actions. There’s just you, your dying girlfriend, your helplessness, your anger. What would be the appropriate way to handle this situation, so you were acting out of justice instead of revenge? What does “justice” even mean in a world like that? It’s a world where either you hurt others or you lie down and just let others keep hurting those you love (which, in itself, would be evil). I can’t think of any “appropriate” response Kaz could take. Which, for better or worse, is probably why he just went for the eye. You probably would too in that context. Are you morally gray? I doubt it.

It’s really weird to me how people seem to hold Kaz to this high standard of absolute Moral Purity, but they don’t hold other characters to it. Like, was the dad on Taken being “feral” or “morally gray” when he told his daughter’s kidnapper that “I will find you and I will kill you” and then pursued him with fury? His motivations were personal and not communal. He was coming from a place of revenge, just as much as justice. But most people consider him a hero. He’s not controversial or “dark.” There are plenty of other heroes who do terrible things (sometimes to innocent people! Even when it’s not even necessary!) for the “greater good” or just because it’s convenient. People call them a “badass” and then turn around and say Kaz is just “bad.” Idk, it just seems really arbitrary the way people draw these lines.

If we’re expanding the definition of “morally gray” to include anyone who’s ever done anything questionable, made a mistake, been forced to do something they wouldn’t normally do, done something for personal reasons instead of for the world at large, or wanted revenge for something, then there literally are no heroes in fiction (except maybe a few cardboard cutouts) or in real life.

(Ironically, the most morally gray thing Kaz does, imo, is something most people don’t even have a problem with: the fact he runs a gambling house to “take money from pigeons.” And even that is really mild [no one is forcing the “pigeons” to gamble their money away]. But yeah, that’s one of the few instances I could think of where he actually hurt innocent people unnecessarily. That and the time, as a kid, where he stole candy from that other kid...and even that might be mostly-but-not-entirely excused by the fact he was starving to death. But yeah.)