#honestly separating them all was probably unnecessary

[gee-arid]

Last, but not least! Zoe with the monkey and Ivan with the turtle!

There we go, full team! Woo hoo!

Bonus, Adrien with the monkey. He was my first choice before swapping to Zoe.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ O2.10 - (hsr) Blade ~

Dom!reader x sub!blade - reader is gender neutral

Warning: yan!reader, NTR (?), fingering, pegging (I use dick), anal play, double penetration, marking, biting, hair pulling, sex toys, cumming untouched, teasing, dirty talk (?), bondage, dacryphilia, mind break, sub-space, obsessiveness (mention of wanting to lock him up etc.)

~ Word count: 6.8k ~

Nini!rant: I felt like a pervert writing this, also why the unnecessary drama?!

Kinktober list 2024

You really shouldn’t be mad. Of course, you were understanding and patient with him, damn it, you really were. Well, you out of everyone knew best what he was like. Cold, distant, and quiet, that icy demeanor of his wasn’t only for show. He didn’t like expressing his emotions too excessively or catching a lot of attention.

Also, work comes first, every time with no fail. Normally you didn’t mind it at all, because you adored him nonetheless. All of that wasn’t off-putting, it was what you loved about him. No matter how compliant you are with him, he’d still hurt you sometimes without noticing. You knew he never meant to do it on purpose, but you wished he was a little more considerate. If only he understood your perspective a little more. 

Today was different though, in the fact that you had enough. This time you were fed up with him, to the point you could feel your blood boil. For example, you reached out for his hand, obviously because you wanted to hold it. To your dismay, he immediately shook off your touch and avoided your eyes. Was it because Silver Wolf and Kafka were also there? Sure, He wasn’t one to enjoy showing public affection, yet his reaction was too much. If one didn’t know the whole truth they’d think he disliked you, you were a little offended by it.

On the same day but later, Kafka teased blade about how much you loved him since you always looked out for your dear partner. Instead of agreeing with her, maybe even complimenting you (not that you expected him to do so), he answered with, “I can only wait til the day we separate.”

It was an accident that you heard them, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But, what kind of answer is that?! Could this be his way of telling you he wants to break up? And the damn reason is what, because you like him too much? Your break up is not something he can decide. In the end, you couldn’t keep your frustrations and anger under control. Were you the only one who cherished this relationship?

You were understanding, really, but you had a limit as well.

Loud stomping sounds echoed through the halls, your presence was soon made known to everyone. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about being noisy right now. Without wasting any time, you walked over to him, just to grab his wrist and drag him along. One didn’t need to be a genius to guess you were furious, even someone with low emotional intelligence like him knew.

He decided it would be the smarter move to follow obediently. To be fair he always let you do whatever you wanted, because he didn’t want to hurt you. What if he pushed you away, causing you to trip because he couldn't control his strength? That man thought of his own power as something destructive and despicable, with the mindset that he was no better than a weapon.

Most of the time you were allowed to do whatever you wanted except spoiling him with affection in public.

Now that you thought about it, this was probably because he never expected your relationship to last, and he still doesn’t trust the fact that you won’t leave him or vanish out of thin air. How absurd, you wouldn't leave him even if he begs you to. Heck, not even death would be able to do you two apart. You were ready to become a parasite that lives inside him for the rest of his life, so you two won’t ever be separated. With that being said, how is he that stubborn with his mindset, still firmly believing that you would get sick of him one day.

What a naive thought. Yet that was just how Blade was, and it hurt you like a deep cut in your heart. Damn it, did he really have that little trust in you or in himself? Both options made your heart throb with sadness and sorrow. The previous anger subsided and bitterness filled your senses at the realisation. It was as if everything you thought you had built with him, achieved during all that time meant nothing. Like a fleeting memory, worth as much as a cloud in the sky. You couldn't wrap your head around how he can let you go so easily.

What to do, what to do... You’ve brought him to your room to nag him, but now you weren’t even angry anymore. Only staring at him with a familiar pity in your eyes. One that he has never seen on anyone's face when they interact with him except yours. Whenever you pulled that expression, Blade would ponder over what kind of thoughts were running through your head. Fury? Despair? Or emptiness? If only he could ease your burden and guilt only a little, he'd be willing to do whatever it takes. Maybe you two were never meant to be. Was there anything you could have done to prevent this outcome?

Blade too knew what got you acting up, he had a pretty accurate guess. You probably overheard his conversation with his fellow colleagues, which wasn’t meant for your ears. He wondered how much you heard, a glimmer of hope prayed that today will be the day you end things. He wanted you to break up with him first, so you can save more face and leave without regrets. Instead of keeping silent like always, he took the initiative this time. The boy took a deep breath first, then asked, “So you know?” Somehow it wasn’t akin to a question, more like a confirmation.

Anyone else would think he was being emotionless again, due to how he kept a nonchalant expression even during such situations. Or how his voice had that usual carefree undertone. Yet you knew. You were certain he was frustrated too. You knew him better than anyone, better than he himself. Every single one of his features, habits, and actions, you’ve got it all mesmerized and stuck in your head like a curse. If someone said he wasn’t expressive, you were ready to defend him like the best lawyer out there.

“I won’t break up with you.” You said immediately, getting straight to the point and making yourself clear. “I’d never do that, even if you don’t like me anymore.” Maybe you were a little clingy, or even possessive. Even so, you tried your best to accommodate your own desires to fit into his comfort zone. You've done so much for him, no one loves him more than you, so it’s fine to be egoistic right? “You should, I can’t return the things you give me.” He advised you, now acknowledging your efforts.

Bright red eyes reflecting the colors of a destructive fire stared right into yours, the flame was wild and uncontrolled like always. “You can’t decide that for me, I won't allow you to end our relationship so easily.” You stood by your point, not afraid to keep the eye contact with him. There was just no way you’d let him go, he needs you, and he loves you. Not to mention you do too, so what more did he need?

As if something inside you snapped, you asked him in an almost desperate tone, “What more conditions do I have to fulfil for you to stay? And who will comfort you if not me, who will care for your health if i’m not here?” Your voice was on the edge of breaking, it reflected your inner emotions very well. You couldn’t afford for him to leave. Blade sighed, he growled a little as he spoke, “it’s not about you, it’s me. I’m a sinner, and I still have a price to pay. I don't want to cling to the realm of the living any longer, I don’t deserve it, the only salvation I seek is death.”

You countered him almost immediately, speaking in a slightly more aggressive manner now, “I’m not dating you only because of you, I want it too. I don't care about your past or future destiny, I want to stay with you, in this fleeting moment, in this forsaken universe, and I don’t want anyone else.” Why were you this determined, that's so annoying. There were so many better candidates besides him, who aren’t condemned convicts and have brighter futures! Can’t you see he’s doing it for your sake? Slowly you were getting on his nerves.

A moment of silence broke out, both of you didn’t dare utter a single word. You didn’t want to break the ice first, and neither did he. After a good minute, you couldn’t stand it anymore, it was even more awkward just standing there glaring at each other. Which is why you walked up to him until you were right in front of the male, “answer me, and only this question with no strings attached. Do you- no, did you not like our relationship?”

The fury you previously held returned, now eating away at you even more viciously than before. Blade took his sweet time answering him, both of you knew the truth anyway. “I never said that,” the male those to stay as neutral as possible. To admit he actually wants to continue this path of hardship and suffering wouldn’t help him out of this situation. “I said answer my question only.” You reinforced your point, trying to pressure a response out of him.

He sighed, bawling his hands into fists as he replied, “I regret not being able to be the partner you wished for me to be.” Suddenly you grabbed his shoulders, shaking him roughly, “that’s not what I asked for!” Despite you sounding so angry you could explode at him, blade noticed the underlying fear and frustration in your voice. “What does my answer change? It doesn’t make me less unsuitable for you.”

“So what? Why can’t we stay together? It’s not like you are in prison! No— never mind, don’t answer me. I know you won’t change your opinion even if this continues.” You stopped squeezing his shoulders as if he would disappear if you didn’t, but you didn’t let go of him. Then you uttered under your breath, “I’ll have to make you stay in a different way then…”

He didn’t quite get what you meant by that, but he also didn’t get the chance to ask. Blade frowned at your ignorance. Don’t you know just how dangerous he is? How stupid does one have to be, to stay this close to someone bathing in blood like him? It’s not that he enjoyed arguing with you, all he wished for was your safety and happiness. He didn't think you could achieve that while being with him.

Every time he came back from a mission, the worried and bitter look on your face would hurt more than any wound he gets on the battlefield. That look you bore would follow him to his nightmares, ripping him off any shred of sleep he could have gotten. Your smile would also drop instantly whenever you saw blood dripping from his body, even if it wasn’t his. Isn’t this proof enough that you should leave? You were clearly scared of him.

At that moment, he lost himself in his thoughts, but you quickly snapped him out of it. All due to a rough push that caused him trip backward and crash onto your bed. He immediately tried to sit up because of his reflexes, since he can’t stay in a vulnerable position during battle for all too long. Though this time you were faster, trapping him between your arms without any exits. Blade stared up at you, his voice caught in his throat. Something about your vibe told him this was not normal, or at least not your gentle self he was used to.

With a cold commanding voice, you said, “strip, blade.” Your voice was so different. The tone was harsh and somewhat unsettling, he knew it wasn’t a suggestion but an order. Without questioning your actions too much, he followed your words as always. First his jacket, then his pants. Underneath his top, he wore nothing but bandages that were wrapped around his torso. Huge battle scars covered his body, proof of his countless fights and victories.

You stared at his scars very intensely. He almost thought you were thrown off by them or maybe even disturbed, if not for your next moves proving him wrong. Since you suddenly started groping his body, touching him all over with your hands. Chest, belly, and waist, all of it while not leaving a single spot untouched.

The face he pulled was almost funny. Poor boy looked so confused yet also slightly embarrassed, were you implying that you didn’t care about those hideous marks? As if you could read his mind, you commented, “your scars are nice, I like them.” He wasn’t ashamed of them, since they were his trophies, his achievements, yet calling them pretty was a white lie. At least that’s what he thought, until you changed his view on them.

To his surprise, you started kissing those scars and licking them, before you eventually left new marks behind. It ranged from bites to hickeys. Some spots were fortunate and only had red dots, other parts were less lucky and are now plagued with bruises. It almost looked like he just went to a battlefield with a beast.

Honestly? For someone who’s basically the definition of fighting, he had surprisingly delicate skin.

Despite how bold you seemed, making a move on him like that, you were actually struggling internally. What could you do to make him abandon those useless thoughts, to make him tied to you forever? It has to be something you haven’t tried yet, and it has to make him go crazy. Otherwise, you will end up in a situation like today again. Then a pretty unholy thought crossed your mind, one that made you smirk to yourself. If you made him into a sex-drunk slut, maybe he'd be dependent on you? Haha, what a joke. No way in hell that dumb idea could work. But... it wouldn't hurt to try…?

“Mhmm… uhnng- hah, haa…” In the meantime blade furrowed his brows, throwing a hand over his mouth to muffle his whimpers. You weren’t playing today, attacking his sensitive spot from the get-go. Fingertips brushed over his chest, all the way to his pelvis, stopping right above where he wanted you the most. “Tsk.” The now seemingly annoyed male clicked his tongue at your playful antics, avoiding eye contact due to his own embarrassment. How did things escalate to this anyway? Weren’t you two just arguing? Today was supposed to be the day he ended it all. Yet here he was, adding more sins to his record.

Just as he decided to indulge himself once more, you stopped. To his surprise you pulled away from him, standing up to grab some tools you’ll need for your plan, leaving him all alone on the bed. Well, this was awkward now. Him, sitting all nude on your mattress while you were fully dressed, fumbling with your drawer. Talk about ruining the mood, were you trying to tease him, or to torment him?

After a short while you came back holding a few toys as well as a bottle of lube. There were so many different things to choose from. Out of nowhere aa thought crossed his mind, could it be that you were going to use him as a stress relief? Somehow his cheeks flushed at the possibility, having you treat him like an object would be better than with care and adoration.

On your way back you noticed a certain crimson fabric lying around on the ground, hidden beneath all the other layers. It was the ribbon that was usually tied around his back. You picked it up with your free hand, or the hand with less stuff to carry, and then threw all of the tools onto the mattress. A fully developed blush covered his cheeks now, he was also fully erect.

What a naughty boy, all hard already with such a desperate look in his eyes. Did the sight of these toys finally ring a bell? You couldn’t mask your excitement behind an angry facade anymore. No matter how much he hurts you, everything is alright again the moment you remember just how gorgeous your pretty boy is. Are you too easy? Yes. Do you give a damn? Heck no.

“Stay still.” You told him as you held his wrists together, slowly binding them behind his back. To do that, you had to flip him over first. Now he was kneeling, holding his ass up high in the air. His muscles immediately tensed, not because of you tying him up, but due to the humiliation he felt in that moment. This position was really shameful, yet he couldn’t help but get excited.

Exposing himself like this, how it brought forth shameless memories. The rope you used was unexpectedly long, so you had to tie it into a bow for it to stay out of the way. It looked really adorable actually. Him, all vulnerable and at your mercy with no possibility to escape. Oh, how you wished you could just tie him up and never let him go. Sadly, he was too strong and would be able to break free from any kind of restraint. What a shame, wasn’t it?

You pressed down on his shoulder to make him arch his back further, earning a small gasp from the male. He couldn’t see or guess what you were doing since you were behind him, so he was being very cautious. Focussing on every rustle and movement he could sense, which also led to him being extra sensitive. Being on such high alert has its on advantages and weaknesses.

That was the reason why he twitched at every contact you created with him. Ever since he started seeing you, he has not only cursed his immortality but also his sensitivity which seems to multiply with each day he spends within your care. Did you feed him anything funny or how was it even possible?

You on the other hand were admiring his toned body, he looked like a sculpture with how perfect he was. Porcelain skin paired with the scars you have caressed already, hickeys and bites all over his frame as well as the faint blush clouding his face. The red ribbon wrapped around him like some accessories was a nice contrast to his pale complexion, or his back muscles that always make you go feral over him. This man was such a fine piece of art; does he really not know? Sometimes you wondered if he was just acting. It only he himself knew what a gem he was.

After finally snapping back to reality, you squeezed his butt cheek with one hand, spreading it slightly to reveal his pink hole. Then using the other hand to squish the bottle of lube, watching the contents drop and drip down his body. First his entrance, then his balls, all the way to his thighs. “Hnng- give me a head up next time..” The coldness of the liquid caught him a little off guard, earning you a yelp from the male. You didn’t even pay attention to his words, you were focused on how the lube slowly ran down his body.

This looked no different than an erotic game, everything was so perverted you almost felt shameful. He shivered a little due to the temperature of the lube was, still not used to it. Cut him some slack, alright? It was the total opposite of his burning hot skin after all. But his body temperature caused you worries as well, it was as if he had a fever. Head spinning while every inch of his body was on fire, heating up like never before.

You had to bite onto your own bottom lip to concentrate, whenever you were with him you got carried off so easily. Damn his pretty face. Really, you had to control yourself to not just force a dildo inside him here and now. Without any further delay, since your patience was on a thin line, you stuck one finger inside his ass, wriggling it around in circles.

“HmM-hngg.." A low hiss escaped him at the sudden intrusion, his rim clenched down onto you almost instantly. “Calm down, I’m preparing you for something way worse than this.” Did you really have to word it like that? This was only making him more nervous and excited. But he had to try to follow your request since it’s what you wanted from him. Even now he was acting on instincts, on the instincts you taught him, on how to be your good boy.

Blade took a few deep breaths until he inhaled and exhaled at a steady pace. After a good minute, he was ready to take more, which is why a second finger joined in soon. This time his reaction was a little less heretic. His shoulders still jumped upwards as well as him throwing his head back due to the sensations, yet that was it. You were able to split and fold him apart without any further troubles.

Eventually you changed the rubbing and trusting motions you previously used to scissoring ones, while watching him struggle not to break your restraints. What a good boy he was, only for you, the training payed off. How will you ever be able to find someone as adorable as him? His whines also picked up, and more lewd sounds of pleasure slipped from him. “Mhmm.. uhHH.!! Damn..it, haaAHH..." Gosh, he was too cute.

You swore listening to those blissful whimpers of his is erasing all your stress, as well as adding years to your lifespan. Gradually, your digits moved faster inside him, pressing against his spongy walls and making him gasp for air. You could feel his soft yet warm insides twitch around you, almost as if his body was begging for more. At this rate, he was going to cum before you get to the main part.

Which is why you stopped, pulling your fingers out of him. As soon as you took them out, his rim clenched around nothing and tensed up. A string of lube connected your fingertips with his hole, it stuck to both sides and refused to let loose. You reached for the bottle again, adding more lubricant to the already enormous amount. “HnnGh… y/n.” The way he moaned your name was so hot, he doesn’t even know just how much you adored him. Everything about him got you acting up like an animal.

Ahhh… That’s it, you couldn’t hold back anymore. On one hand, you wanted to tease him with a toy to the point he begs for you to fuck him, until he tells you how much he needs your dick. Then again you also want to pound into his puffy little hole til he’s a whiny, crying mess, who can’t stop sobbing about how amazing you feel. Until he tells you only yours can satisfy him. You wanted to make him into a slut so badly. What to do? Both options are nice, and they always give great results. Maybe first the toy, and if he begs enough the other choice? While you were still contemplating your choices, the boy distracted you.

“Hurry up.. uh-ugh... teasing me like this isn’t like you.” Blade complained, squinting his eyes while looking away. No way, he is begging you already, when all you’ve done was a little fingering? “Haha~ so needy today, aren’t you? You only show this side to me don’t you, Bladie?” You couldn't let such a fitting opportunity slip and had to tease him about it.

The blush on his face darkened again, his ears and shoulders had been infected too. Your question was met with a meek nod before silence occurred again. He only shows this side to you, only you and no one else. Heh. “My, since you like it so much.” You grabbed the silicon toy and pressed the tip against him, before slowly inserting it. Sharp gasps and groans can be heard from him, his hands clutched the sheets like his life depended on it.

“Wa-wait… y/n, y-y/n.?! It’s too su-sudden, mhmm, ah fuck..” The poor boy was gazing at you over his shoulder, his hands clenching the restrains with newfound despair. Was he really stretched enough to take something so big inside him? God.. the shame, curiosity and pleasure are mingling inside him, mixing together into a perfect blend. You always managed to make him excited and on edge, you made his life much more tolerable than before.

When the tip was inside him, he was already mewling and shaking. The deeper you penetrated him, the louder he became. At the point where you finally reach the half, he was already groaning and blabbering useless things, incoherent nonsense like, “ah, too-! MhHm, good?! oHH, ah, y/NNNnmm..!!” His moans were like blessings to your ears, the most beautiful singing that could put sirens to shame.

It didn’t take long before the entire thing was inside him, you prepared him a lot after all and you were quite generous with the lube. “Ah.. fuck, I- mhm, mo-more...” What a greedy boy, he just got what he wanted and he’s already craving more. You couldn’t help but giggle at that, cooing gently. “Shh, get used to this first.” After all that drama, you still tried to be gentle with him, to make him feel good and become dependent on you. Yet reality shows it backfired. Blade grinned a little, his feisty, kind of intimidating smirk. And it caught you off guard.

Out of nowhere, he mocked you in a snickering tone, “is- mhm, this all you’ve go-got?” He tried to taunt you, but still stumbled over his words a little. His stuttering was almost cute if it weren’t for the words he voiced out. “Huh?” You replied, seemingly annoyed now. “You said.. hah, that you’ll, ha-hnghhh… make me stay, so do- fuck..!! Do it.” What’s gotten into him, his mood just did a whole 180. Suddenly he turned into a brat? Oh how he has done it, he dug his own grave, you weren't going to be nice to such an annoying thing.

You grabbed his bottom and spread it with your hands, the dildo inserted into him was being pushed to one side. His eyes widened as if he was a deer caught in headlights, finally reaching the point of realising what he got himself into. He grit his teeth enough for you to hear, all while the ribbon started binding him to rip. Sweat was rolling down his forehead, his eyes exposed how much he loved every single second of this. Not long after, you lined your own length against him, slowly penetrating him. Now even you were amazed at how loose he was since he was able to fit two inside.

It was an act of impulse, to fill him up like that, though now you were getting into it. Just the thought of it was kind of hot, him, taking two dicks inside that adorable pink hole of his? “UgHH!! mhMM- gaAhHH!! AhHHH <3!! Too bi-big..!” Blade complained once again, his knuckles turned white with how he was clenching his fists. “Too much.., n-no!! Slower, my stomach feels so full..♡♡”

So now he’s whining about it being too much when he had been such a whore moments before, begging for more? Oh no, you weren’t going to stop now, not when he seemed to be enjoying himself so much. I mean, he was whimpering as tears collect in his eye sockets, marks from his nails forming on his palm due to the pure strength he was using. His hands weren’t on his back anymore, instead above his head and writhing away.

The way he squirmed and trashed around, desperately trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure and sensations, ahh you loved him so much! Then how about you comment on his poor, neglected cock? How it's twitching around all uselessly while dirtying your sheets? There were so many things you could do to him, and you had all the time in the world.

It took a little fighting, but you eventually bottomed out inside him. Finally fitting both of the lengthy dicks inside his soft, hot walls. “Haah, shit, you are too tight.” You growled, he didn’t know if it was a compliment or not. On the other hand there was no way you could move when he’s been stuffed full like this, the tight muscle was holding onto you for dear life. His rim squeezed you as if it would break if not. That’s when you heard sobs emerging from him, paired with the most erotic moans you’ve encountered ever.

“Oh-hmHhH!!! AhhHHhnn, fuck, fuck, fuuUckKK! Y/n, oh please..” A rough voice which used to be at least a few octaves deeper was now itching closer to the high-pitched singing of a mockingbird, alongside hiccups standing in his own way each time he opened his mouth. Simply heavenly, there were no words to describe this beautiful scenery in front of you.

And to think you were the cause of it, oh dear, he really wanted to seduce you, doesn't he?

If he really wanted to break up with you, he shouldn’t make such sounds! In the end, you had to wait quite a bit until he got somewhat used to it, so that you could move your hips slightly. Blade on the other side buried his face between your pillows, bawling his eyes out. It hurt, yet it felt so good it was mind breaking. Oh lord, he could feel himself getting stretched so much that it was almost scary.

“HnNGhh.. ahh-hic, y/n.. I feel so fu-full- damn it m’ gonna break if you continue!” Sweat rolled down his face, hair stuck to his body and his precum was everywhere. Thighs, shaft, and sheets, you name it. What a messy boy he was, so dirty, filthy and lovable. You stroked his back while he sobbed, rubbing his sacrum and spine causing him to shudder even more, just the lightest touches were enough to make him succumb to bliss and ecstasy that were otherworldly. Seriously, at this rate he was really going to break..!

Then you grabbed his hair and yanked on his locks, whispering in a soft tone again, “Bladie, you have to loosen up a little. I can barely fuck you.” “MhmMMM!! Do-don’t say it like that..! You’re embarrassing me!” Aha, so talking dirty can still earn you a loud groan from the boy, he was just as sensible as at the start of your session. If not, he only got more sensitive. You tamed him well.

The pain he felt was quickly converted into pleasure, confusing his body and tad bit. Don’t you know he’s trying his best? He’s never taken two at the same time, he could swear his butt was going to tear at any moment. Though all these tingles he felt with no end in sight, the way his nerves were being stimulated on a whole new level he couldn’t fathom, yea it was worth it.

This was pure paradise, the first paradise he got to savour. He could swear this was something normally only aeons could get to enjoy, that’s how exhilarating these emotions were. You noticed how he tried to take everything you gave him, to accommodate it and make it fit, but to no avail of course. In honour of his efforts, you added some more lube and pressed your dick deeper inside him. This time it reached his sweet spot, hitting his prostate with such accuracy it made him see the pearly gates. The boy couldn’t help but growl out loud again, “AaaAahHHH.. ♥︎♡!!! OoHh- mhMm, too deeeEEKK!!”

The way you stared at him got him breathless, it made him feel ashamed and humiliated. Letting you see all those despicable sides of him was too much, he only wanted to show you his best after all. “Do-don’t look at me.. so intensely.” Blade whined, nuzzling his face into the mattress. “Why not?” You asked him with a lewd grin, licking your lips as you admired how adorable he looked.

“I’m fi-filthy, and it’s humiliating…!” Now he’s suddenly being humble and self-conscious? When he was just teasing you moments ago? Your gaze changed into a sickly sweet one, loving, possessive even. “Don’t worry bladie, in my eyes, you are an angel.” Then you ran your fingertips over his skin again, before pulling them back to have a better grip on his body.

Every time you moved even the slightest bit, he’d let out the most intense and lewd noises ever, as if he copied them straight from a porno. The poor man was so ashamed, he didn’t know what to do. Everything you did to him felt just too damn good, he couldn’t keep himself under control. Now he was biting the soaked pillows in a pathetic attempt to muffle those sweet whimpers, shaking his ass due to his knees going weak under him. Your poor pillow.. it was wet with tears and drool, also a bit of sweat. Well, not that you even noticed.

"Fuck this is hot.” That was all you could think of in that situation. How could you think of anything but your dearest boyfriend after all? A wicked smile pestered your features while your eyes took in the view. If you had one wish, you’d wish time would stop at exactly this moment, you would have been so content. Gods, aeons, please, you needed this man so badly it was a curse. It was gnawing away at you from the inside!

The overflowing desire took over your rational mind, and you suddenly started pounding into him at a rough pace. All you wanted was more, more of him, more of his voice, more of this control you held over him. Now you were consumed by lust and greed huh? “AahHHGH?!? Y-y/nNN..! MhmMngHN...?!?” So unbelievably mean you were, rutting into him like he was some used, cheap-ass whore. As if he was nothing but your flashlight, your rag doll. He secretly loved it, but he would never tell you. Even if he was a dead men, he valued his dignity.

With one hand you grabbed his waist, with the other hand, you held the dildo to keep it in its rightful place, in case it slipped out. Damn it, you aren't leaving him any choices, are you? Not that he wanted to escape anyway. Once again your stunning little lover couldn't hold his tears back, sobbing in a meek voice about how you were too fast and too huge.

“Bi-biiiig… too mMHmm, biiiiiggg..!!” Choked out whines was all that filled the room, alongside his adorable mewling. Each time your hips snapped against his, you would create loud slapping noises that are being echoed through the room. His dick would also swing around and hit his tummy. This happened so often that strings of sticky precum connected his belly with the tip of his cock.

During your own excitement, you started babbling nonstop, repeating the same words over and over again. “Blade, fuuuck. I love you, I love you so much. Stay with me, don't leave. I love you.”

Somehow your hand found itself entangled in his long, dark blue hair again. Yanking on them like it was some makeshift leash, getting off to the sight of his pained face. How his eyes rolled back, tongue stuck out and body shaking like a weak, helpless animal. Would it be too mean and sadistic for you to say you took pleasure in him being vulnerable? He himself also couldn't form coherent sentences anymore, he has lost that skill for quite a while now. All Blade could do was scream out your name and beg for god-knows-what, while hoping you'll grant him some relief soon.

“Y/n, y/nnN! OohHH, ha-AhhNhhnN~!! Touch my di-dick too... please, oh ple-please~ mhmm...!” Right, there was still that useless yet cute little thing hanging between his legs. You hadn't touched it even once, hence why it was an angry shade of red and all swollen. Despite all that, nothing can beat how bruised up and abused his hole was. You weren’t as tender with him as you planned to, well, this was fine too.

“No way, I’m only going to fuck your pussy here.” As always, you just can't keep your mouth shut once you see his flustered and fucked out expressions, spewing one nonsense after another. "Ahh.. I'm clo-cloOohhsee <3, fuck me harder, please, y/n, please please please!!" Now he was over the moon, having already abandoned any shred of dignity he might have had beforehand.

The tears decorated his pretty face, trailing off his cheeks shone brightly. Every erotic word in the book could be heard coming from his lips, enticing you to give it your best to pound him until he gets drunk on the pleasure. He probably was already but wouldn’t hurt to keep going, right? It was also your initial plan anyway, if you hadn't lost yourself in his moans like that.

“It's alright, cum for me darling. I love you.” You reassured him, caressing his scalp now instead of tugging on it. After thinking about it for a few seconds… wouldn't this mean he is cumming untouched? This adorable but perverted bastard. Heh.

For Blade, these words of reassurance were all he needed to hear right now, that was enough to snap the final straw within him and make him finish all over the sheets. “Ah-aahHnnGHN uhNHMMM!!! Cumming- I’m cummingnnn!! <3~~!!” That was basically a scream, he was so loud, you were sure everyone on the spaceship must have heard him. All his comrades and subordinates. Somehow that made you very happy, now everyone will know your relationship is still healthy and you two have no plans of going separate ways. Not like you would have let him anyway.

If you didn't consider your bed defiled before, now you obviously do. A nice and huge load shoot out of his poor member, covering the area beneath him in white. The wet spots were overwhelming, it was so nasty that you couldn’t help but smile. As for blade, it would be an understatement to simply say he was exhausted. He was way more than just that. You basically fucked every sense of self he had out of him, turning his brain into mush that could only beg for more of your touch.

After receiving and having a taste of the Paradies on earth, he won't be able to turn back anymore. Everything was just to bind him to you forever. Well, this was fine too, if you execute everything in the right way, he won't be able to go a day without thinking about you ever again! (As if he wasn’t like that before already) His body will remember you and only you, until it can only be pleased by you. Even if you had to turn him into a cock hungry slut, you would gladly do it.

Come on, your obsession was justified! Just look at him, he's everything you ever wanted in a man, he was your only desire. Your world, your colours, your breath. If he isn’t with you, you’ll lose your mind. Then everything becomes to tasteless. What do they say again? Love changes a person.

His skin shone due to the thin layer of sweat covering his body, eyes still rolled into the back of his skull since his brain was still processing the sensations and pleasures up to this point. His orgasm and the aftermath made him so tired and battered, even after waiting for a good minute he couldn't calm down nor move a single muscle.

When you pulled out of him and took the toy out as well, his stretched entrance was gaping as if he wanted to be filled again. Then you untied his wrists, throwing the red ribbon onto the ground. Evidence of the binds and his struggles were left behind, pretty marks were around his tender wrist. You’ll need to apply some medicine later. How must he feel? Even you were a little shaken by all that tension, and you weren't even on the receiving end.

After giving him another minute to catch his breath, you deemed him conscious enough to understand your words. Without hesitation and a single ounce of shame, you whispered into his ear, "you are mine and I’m yours, bladie~ So please, stay with me, even after your immortality ends."

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze @sh1-n0bu

Nini!rant 2.0:

Being a yandere irl is not hot at all, it’s creepy as heck (but in fiction I’m down for a pathetic whimpy clumsy yandere)

Yandere is a word mixed from two different ones and ordinates from Japanese. The first is ‘yanderu’, which means “to be sick,” and the second is ‘deredere’, it means smt like “lovestruck” — so yandere just describes someone who’s sickly in love, or, loves someone to the point it’s sick.

Often times they are depicted in one way only. The typical, disgusting and intimidating ones. Kidnapping their darling while threatening/ killing anyone who comes to close to them, or the potential love rivals. Due to these rather… extrem methods, yandere’s are often depicted as doms. But yandere come in all flavours, they don’t have to be just dom.

To be obsessive in love can go both ways, to want to possess the person, or to want to worship the ground they walk on. Sometimes the person doesn’t even know they were a yandere, thinking what they did was alright. There are also yandere’s that love & hate their darling, which is an interesting dynamic?

[starryjkoo]

I've seen some people bringing up hickeygate for some reason so in the spirit of AYS?! release week, I’d like to talk about why I love hickeygate.

To begin with, I feel like a lot of people don’t understand that what makes hickeygate so funny isn’t even necessarily the hickey. Or rather, there’s too much focus on only the hickey when the whole thing is just hilarious and weird.

Like, apparently Jikook get drunk (alone) together and JK lifts Jimin bridal style, spins him around, and refuses to set him down even when Jimin gets super dizzy. And apparently Jimin’s drunken method of getting JK to set him down is to “bite” him on the neck in such a way that leaves a mark that looks exactly like a hickey. That’s weird! Every part of that is weird!

And what’s also kind of funny to me is that I think they told the story because imo in their eyes it really was all very innocent “see, we weren’t doing anything weird or wrong!” almost, defensive, if you will. Because technically, they weren’t doing anything inappropriate, they were just defending themselves/explaining the totally non-weird mark Jimin left on JKs neck. It wasn’t really a “hickey”, they have nothing to hide, they were just playing around, nothing untoward happened.

But I think it’s funny because imho it at the very least implies that Jikook have some weird-ass boundaries/behaviors, that they might be so deep into their strange dynamic, so used to and desensitized to it, that they don’t even recognize when they’re being weird af. Because, regardless, this situation is still ????

Most people don’t drunkenly spin their friends around bridal style and refuse to set them down and have hickeys bit (sucked??) onto their neck in response. I mean, maybe some do, but I definitely don’t think it’s the norm (and Jin’s & TH’s responses are hilarious). And certainly most people would realize that leaving what looks like a hickey on your friends neck is going to be perceived a certain way regardless of what story you tell or how it came about, and would maybe cover it up to save themselves the embarrassment if they were bothered by the implications. But clearly that’s not what happened. They were out and proud of that thing lol (well Jimin seemed a bit sheepish about what happened lol).

Anyways the whole thing is funny and very weird and says something about their dynamic and weird physical boundaries and what they might be like when they’re drunk and alone together (which seems like something they do/did a lot). We also now know they also have in depth discussions about singing to the point they get lost in their own little world even when they're with others which is cute too.

Anyways, I know I’m not crazy to point out that their dynamic is weird and their intimacy boundaries are weird and their dynamic can read a certain way because I’ll always point to one of my other very favorite Jikook moments — Rainy Day fight — particularly the way that the other members responded. Like, continuously cringing for no reason, shivering and yelling “ew”, calling it a drama, singing a kdrama song at them, smiling and laughing, which is all honestly hilarious, and unnecessary, and validating lol. Especially because it didn’t really deter Jikook, who were just telling that story as it was, with JK seemingly pretty serious and invested in making sure Jimin got the details right.

So yeah, that is just how they come off, even to their own group that already have loose boundaries - and I just love that about Jikook. Love their weird drunken shenanigans and their dramatic as hell couple like rain fights, and how soft and silly they are in general.

Also shout-out to the retelling of the Rainy Day story where they both separately took the blame because they're mature, considerate and sweet towards each other like that. Also the fact that it was something JK felt sorry for years down the line, even though clearly there were no hard feelings about it. I feel like they probably didn’t fight that often if a fight in which they immediately made up was on his mind like that lol. Also the fact that what upset JK so deeply was Jimin’s threat of not caring about him anymore.

Anyways, I hope we get to see some drunken shenanigans in AYS. They did cut out whatever tussle occurred on that mosquito net during ITS though, so idk what they’ll actually show in the end, but I’m here for it.

[walrus150915]

cw: discussions of nonsexual grooming

There is one thing that has been spinning on my mind ever since I watched the movie. This conversation isn't that popular in the fandom, probably due to its uncomfortable subject matter, but it needs to be discussed. I'll be the one to start

The Director has groomed Ambrosius and it affected him far into adulthood

(A really long analysis post)

Warning: I'm not a psychologist neither am I really educated in this sphere, and I never was a victim of grooming, so don't take my words as 100% truth. However, I'm a literature student, so I can analyse a few scenes and make a conclusion lol

So, to start off, let's share the definition of grooming, shall we?

"Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them."

Now, of course Ambrosius is an adult in the movie, and we can't exactly know his entire history with the Director. So this analysis will take a few things as truth despite them not being confirmed

- the Director has been by Ambrosius's side throughout most of his life. Considering the fact that she's been around even when Ballister was a child, the same can be assumed about Ambrosius

- we as viewers do not see Ambrosius's parents (because this is quite unnecessary to the narrative, maybe we'll see them in a sequel Quane and Bruno were teasing buttt¯\_(ツ)_/¯), and he's been in the Institute since childhood, so it seems like the Director was the most reliable adult in Ambrosius's life

Despite Ambrosius being a grown man, the effect the Director has on him cannot be denied. His relationship to the Director is like half his character arc, the man being torn between his loyalty to the kingdom and his lover

I will take a few scenes from the movie where Ambrosius and the Director interact and try to analyse them

Starting off strong, we've got the "acting like common children" scene. I could point out the obvious bias the Director puts in her words (villainizing an oppressed group of people as a rich white woman in power how nice of her) but we ain't coming to her throat for classism today. Pay attention to her praising Ambrosius and singling him out. "Thankfully, we have a descendant of Gloreth to lead us"

Are other knights happy to be around Ambrosius tho? The answer is no

(Text below is taken from the screenplay. The scene is after Nimona's and Bal's escape)

***

Knights: I knew we never should have trusted Ballister./If Goldenloin hadn't trusted him.../Well, if Goldenloin hadn't helped him...

***

Todd: This is his fault!

Knights: Yeah!/Tell him, Todd!

Goldenloin realizes all eyes are on him

***

I think it wouldn't be wrong to assume Ambrosius's colleagues dislike him at best and outcast him at worst. Compared to Todd, who seems to be the more liked one amongst their peers (bro really is a jock bully high school stereotype in his 20s isn't that embarrassing), Ambrosius is isolated. He doesn't have anybody except Ballister and the Director. And as you all know Ballister and Ambrosius are separated for the most of the movie. So it leaves him with the Director as the closest person to interact with. Yeah...

Also in this scene she displays TWO tactics groomers use to manipulate their victims: isolation and favouritism

Another scene I'd like to pay attention to is Ambrosius's ✨iconic✨ freak out

"What's on your mind, Ambrosius? You can talk to me"

"...I'm fine, Director"

This scene actually left me confused on the first watch because it looks like a perfect moment for the Director to seem at least somewhat sympathetic. It truly seems like she cares about him

Honestly it's pretty hard for me to surely say whether or not she's being sincere or not but her goal is definitely to win over Ambrosius's trust, to make him believe she's a safe person (now that his real safe person is away ajdjdjj). That is also another tactic for groomers to manipulate their victims

And I think it would be fair to mention Director's attitude towards Ballister's and Ambrosius's relationship. It's obvious she knows about them (...not like it's rocket science have you seen these lovebirds) and disapproves. She doesn't outright state it but it's really clear

"Sir Goldenloin, is your loyalty to this Kingdom or to the knight who consorts with a monster?"

Again, amazing case of manipulation. She doesn't say Institute, nor "me" or whatever. She says kingdom. And she clearly knows that it works on Ambrosius, because he is, after all, Gloreth's descendant. Gloreth was the original protector, and Ambrosius is supposed to be the protector now. By choosing Ballister he betrays the kingdom, his bloodline and Gloreth

Now, I know this scene is not Ambrosius & the Director because it's Nimona in disguise but considering how good Nimona was in playing her part we might as well assume real Ambrosius would act the same.

Look at these eyes. He's afraid of her. She has the complete power over him. And Ballister is aware of this (if that's how he told Nimona to act)

Off-topic but I watched Nimona with two of my buddies yesterday and during this scene they both went like "Wait, who is she to Ambrosius again? Is she his mother? Because she acts like she one" and they are so damn right???

Now remember the fact that during one of the interviews Eugene Lee Yang said that the Director is Ambrosius's parental figure. Do with this information whatever you wanna do

I'm still not over her audacity in this scene. Her lip didn't even twitch and she's killing a person whom she praised for his bloodline. Saying "May Gloreth forgive you" while DRIVING A SWORD THROUGH HIM is beyond evil like??? Chill out Nancy Reagan???

I could say that this is the scene that debacles the American model minority myth (with East Asians being put on a pedestal and used to further reinforce white supremacy). A white woman killing an East Asian man while using a Christ-like figure to justify her actions (Gloreth is literally mentioned to be a Christ figure in the art book), and, if we take into account the theory that she wanted to set Ballister up so that it looks like he killed Ambrosius, BLAMING IT ON A BROWN ASIAN MAN was really a choice huh

The Director killed Ambrosius the second he questioned her, the second he wasn't useful to her

And how was he being useful to her? Allow me to introduce you to the scene which made me SUPER uncomfortable once I realized what was going on

During most of the movie Ambrosius acts rather impulsively, reflexes play a big part in his body language. And what does he do? He protects her with his body

"We need to get you to safety!"

Ambrosius was trained in a way that he needed to protect the Director with his body and his life.

Even in scenes where Ambrosius and the Director don't interact you can see how much Ambrosius is brainwashed.

"She manipulated you. She manipulated both of us. But together we'll take her down, you'll be a knight again"

"Thank you. The Director can't-"

"The Director? Oh, no, Bal. I'm talking about your sidekick"

Ambrosius refuses to even think about the effect the Director has on him. He's insisting on Nimona being the manipulator despite him being manipulated

Finally, when Ambrosius realizes something is CLEARLY wrong, he still tries to talk some sense into her

"But what if we're wrong? What if we've always been wrong?"

Despite him being a constant witness to Director's misdeeds he tries to do everything peacefully. Look at his face. This is a face of a man who doesn't want to harm. He gives the Director a chance to improve herself. I think he would forgive her after everything she's done

...but being a conservative she'd rather explode than admit she's wrong. So she attempts to kill Ambrosius again

This, again, says that no matter how much mercy you show to hateful people, they'll continue to be horrible to you. Just because they think they have a right to

Analysing Ambrosius's and the Director's relationship I think it'd be more than valid to state that she has, indeed, groomed Ambrosius to exploit and use him for her own (political and other) benefits. Other knights were brainwashed and groomed too, but something about her attitude towards Ambrosius really bugged me the wrong way

She is an excellent manipulator and Ambrosius fell victim to that, which is no surprise

Thank you for reading this! It took so long to make😭 If you want to add on anything in the reblogs please do, because the discussion HAS to happen at some point

[trancylovecraft]

Can i get uhhh amaimon from blue exorcist? Please i need crumbs.

(AOEX) YANDERE! AMAIMON x READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: coming right up!!! MY BOY AMAIMON <3333 (side note: the fear of god has influenced this fanfiction. i got attacked by a spider the size of like tennis ball while writing this and i had to kill it with a whack a mole hammer. ) GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Blue Exorcist

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Okay, Here we go!

Amaimon, King of Earth and apart of the Ba'al! Scourge to sweets and all things hygienic.. Has fallen for you!

I view Amaimon as a Possessive, Jealous and Lucid yandere.

Possessive in the way that Amaimon simply believes you're his, No questions asked. It's only in his nature as a demon to be as such and if he decides you're his property then that is how it shall be.

Jealous in the way that Amaimon absolutely despises it whenever you're around someone else. I suspect being subjected by Shemihaza and seen to be weaker as such has given him a little bit of an inferiority complex, Even if he doesn't understand such a thing. Anytime your around someone he feels absolutely angered, Especially if you show signs that you like them.

Lucid in the way that Amaimon probably knows that by human standards this is very wrong. And he honestly just doesn't care. I mean even by demon standards this is weird as hell and Amaimon will just shrug and continue on with what he's doing.

I can see one way where this dude gets obsessed with you.

So lets say that you're an exorcist, A higher ranked one too. Perhaps you're an Arc Knight, Perhaps you're just in the Upper Class but all that really matters is that you're powerful. A force to be reckoned with. Someone that a demon would not want to face.

This takes place during the forest-camp arc, You know the one, Where Rin goes absolutely berserk in his fight with big bad Amaimon? Yeah, That one.

You were called to the scene and jumped into the fight, Causing a clash between the two demons, Separating them apart with a single slash of your sword, Both flying apart at high speeds.

Amaimon for one, Is pissed.

Both because he was losing a fight to motherfucking RIN. And also because he got pulled out of it by some rando human girl with a sword???

Listen, Amaimon hates losing a fight as much as the next guy, Probably even more to be honest. But what he hates more is being brought out of said fight forcefully. He's competitive, Even if he's losing. Badly.

But as soon as he wretches his head up from the tree he collided with, His eyes connecting with yours-

He still felt primal rage.

This is the point where Mephisto steps in, Admonishing Amaimon for causing unnecessary damage to his school's grounds before tossing him in the Cuckoo Clock. Amaimon's mortal vessel being punctured with a dozen spears, Trapping him inside.

And he's beyond pissed. Absolutely furious.

The only thing Amaimon thinks about during his time in the clock isn't Rin. It's not how he was embarrassingly overwhelmed. No-

It's you.

You. The one who spoiled his fun. Amaimon hated pesky humans who dared to interrupt him and what he chose to do, And that includes chaos-reaping.

He grinds his canines in frustration. Remembering the way you stood there, Looking at him like you thought you were better. Oh so smug, At least that's how Amaimon viewed you in his head.

A human that thought they were better than him, The King of Earth. Interrupting his playtime and proceeding to rub it in his face too.

You were the only thing on his mind when he was in there. Punctured and bloody. The only thing.

Of course, When he finally lets out, He's not gonna forget you.

As soon as he's out and terrorising True Cross as Ambrosius Faust, He's out on a hunt for you in particular. And what do you know? It seems like in the time he was away, You had became a teacher within the cram school.

Of course you meet. You have a spat. But Mephisto had banned him from ever harming any of the students or the teachers here.

And of course, Amaimon doesn't want to go back into the Cuckoo Clock..

So he resorts to terrorising you, Acting up in your class. Food wrappers all over the floor, Amaimon sitting on desks and staring daggers into you while he proceeds to do absolutely no work.

And you can't do anything about this either. He might be a demon king but Mephisto most definetly banned you from hurting him, Lest you lose your job. You may hate the time clown but unfortunately he's your boss and you've grown attached to your students.

So both of you are locked in a stalemate here.

Amaimon has dedicated his current self to harassing and making your life a living nightmare. It's only right for what you did, Disrespecting a demon king like that. And ruining his playtime.

It's basically his new hobby now.

Amaimon proceeds to terrorise you in and out of class. Eyes you down in the hallways, Knocks over the supplies on your desk.. Probably even dumps dead mice and small animals on your doorstep as a warning.

But as just as he was about to do that again one day, You open your door, Smiling as you kiss a man on the lips before stepping out.

Amaimon pauses, Only getting a glimpse at the man in the doorway.

He blinks.

Who was that?

Amaimon soon finds out that the man in the doorway was infact your husband. How could he have not noticed this before? Amaimon had basically forgotten that a ring on your finger signalled partnership to another human. He's still out of the loop on human customs.

But now? The glare of the diamond on that ring is all he can see.

And for some reason, He hates it.

He's biting at the claw on his thumb as he glares at the door, Watching as you step out and make your way to class. The dead rabbit in his hand basically being tossed to the side, Forgetting about it altogether.

I think it would take him a while to figure out what he feels towards you, He's not that good with human emotions. It might even take a little bit of intervention from Mephisto to get Amaimon to realise what he's feeling.

It's simple.

He likes you.

But he doesn't like your husband.

Mephisto said he couldn't harm the students or the teachers.

But nothing about husbands.

The feelings he has for you begin to stir. Possession, Obsession, Love, Lust. Who knows what he feels for you? Certainly not Amaimon. He barely understands it in the first place.

All he knows is that he wants you, And your husband could go die for all Amaimon cared.

Amaimon isn't the kind of guy to mull over his actions. If he has an urge, He will act on it. If he wants something, He'll take it. Amaimon won't usually wait for permission or approval, Nor does he care for human culture or customs.

So he acts accordingly.

It was a good day at work for you, Your students and you laughing and giggling. It was such a lovely day too, The nature and the earth all in bloom, A warm temperature and beautiful blue skies for miles.

And best of all? No Amaimon.

You didn't really mull over his absence as you happily skipped up the pathway to your house, Grasping the strap of your bag as you fished in it for your keys.

But as soon as you lay your hand on the door, It creaks open.

It was unlocked

You pause, Blinking. It wasn't like your husband to leave the door unlocked, Mostly because he was working at this time and was usually out of the house. And you doubted he forgot considering he was always so insistent on making sure it was shut tight when nobody was home.

You chuckled a little, His quirks always managing to make you do so.

So you figure that he had came home early, For one reason or another. There wasn't any sign of break in anyways, So what reason did you have to fear?

But as you push the door open, Distracted by putting away your keys in your bag as you step inside, You instantly know something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

It was dark inside your house, None of the lights on. But most of all you could smell what seemed to be.. Copper, Something metallic and.. Familiar.

But what made you freeze, What made you stop, Pause, Made your heart skip a beat was the squelching sound oozing from beneath your feet.

You look down.

Your heart stops.

Red. It was red.

The puddle beginning to stain the soles of your shoes. It was red.

You drop your keys, Your eyes widening as you yell out in alarm. Your body instantly raising it's guard as you summon your weapon, Heart beginning to thunder in your chest.

The blood, There was a pool of blood beneath your feet and you had no idea where it was coming from. But it was dripping, Running, It was fresh and there was a lot of it.

"Oh. You're back."

That voice.

You whip your head around, Eyes focusing in on a humanoid figure waltzing out of the darkness. You knew that voice all too well, That stupid, Aggravating, Monotonous voice.

Amaimon stood in the doorway, Hands in his pockets with an almost bored look on his face. Yet his eyes never left you, His gaze intense but not burning with hatred like they had before.

You yell at him, Raising your sword in anger and demanding what he had done with your husband. Your eyes wide and wild, Angry, Enraged- Ready to cut him down in an instant.

Amaimon merely shrugs, Not even missing a beat as he told you that he killed him.

Killed him.

Killed your husband.

You feel your world breaking, Crumbling into pieces as he tells you this. You deny it, Yell at him, Scream at him to tell you the truth, To tell you where he was-

But Amaimon just stays quiet, And that's all the confirmation you needed.

Your sword is raised high, Your body ready to lunge and slice his flesh into strips. You don't care what Mephisto said, You didn't care about your job. You cared about your husband and your future with him, Everything with him, You loved him.

You didn't care. You were going to get revenge.

But back then Amaimon was overwhelmed by the rampaging son of Satan. Back then he was distracted, Back then he was taken by surprise, Back then it wasn't a fair fight.

But now?

Amaimon stood there, His head high and his stare intense. You lived in a rural part of town, Where nature and the earth grew wildly. Kin of Earth were rampant around here-

Amaimon was completely in his element.

And despite your efforts, In the end you were defeated. Amaimon didn't care what Mephisto said about not hurting you. You had started it, Right? Amaimon was just defending himself.

And he's just acting on instinct, Can he really blame him?

And this starts the domestic stage.

You wake up somewhere unfamiliar, Somewhere deep within the rural countryside of Japan. Your body was numb and it felt like it was weighed down by something.

Though your vision was blurry, You could see greenmen all running about happily. You could see Kin of Earth infesting the area, Both Lower and Middle class, Ignoring your presence altogether.

You try to scream, To summon your sword-

But quickly you feel your throat begin to clog up, Beginning to sputter up flowers and twigs and leaves in clumps. Your sword isn't summoning either, Your power drained and your body weak.

Amaimon sits atop a branch, Watching as you struggle and begin to pass out once more. His kin roamed about the little clearing they had claimed for themselves, Now housing you, His current fixation.

You're not gonna be seen for a long time.

Amaimon often brings you back things that he'd think you like, Things that he probably stole from people. Stuff like Jewellery, Food, Rocks, Pieces of paper, A pretty piece of fabric. Magpie mentality.

Are you a vegan? You better hope so. Amaimon probably feeds you solely with plant-stuff because that's the easiest to get for him. With meat? Amaimon doesn't know how to cook and he prefers it raw anyways. You might get some cold instant ramen and some candy, But apart from that? Better get used to the green-stuff.

On that note, I feel like Amaimon would always share his food with you. Like, He'd always half it between you and himself no matter what he's eating. Ramen, Pizza, A single Lollipop. You name it.

You're unable to escape the area he has made for you. Your power constantly drained by the demonic plants taken root in your skin. And even then his kin was there to watch you 24/7. They'd absolutely chase after you relentlessly if you tried to get away.

Amaimon himself probably doesn't even realise that he likes you romantically for a while. You'll either need to point it out to him or he'll figure it out later on his own.

That ring you use to have? The diamond one? The one that your husband proposed to you with? Gone. Like the wind.

Amaimon will find you another ring, One that signals your ownership to him, Something more impressive then what a weak little human could ever give you. He'll force you to wear it too, You won't be allowed to take it off.

He probably likes to bite you too, By the way. You cannot tell me that Amaimon doesn't like marking you as a way to show ownership. If the bite marks and scars begin to fade, He'll just get you new ones.

You hate him. You hate him with every fibre in your being, His name dripping like venom on your tongue. You want nothing more than to strangle him and watch him writhe under your boot as you sever his head. You feel like vomiting every time he touches you.

Amaimon doesn't understand when you say you don't like him and want to get away.

He just tells you to stop crying, That he's much better than that weak suitor that came before him.

You should be glad that the King of Earth has taken such an interest in you.

Sometimes he'll come back learning a new 'courtship' method that humans use, Copying it in a sort of grotesque way.

He'll kiss you but he may try to bite your lips off. He'll hug you but you'll need to make him control his strength. He'll carry you, But only dangling from under his arm, Dizzy from being held upside down.

And yes, He probably does get human affection from Anime that Mephisto makes him watch.

Mephisto is definetly aware of this. No doubt. And to be honest this could've been his plan for you the entire time, To be something that he could use to manipulate Amaimon with.

Amaimon probably knows that too. But honestly, He doesn't care.

If you ever did escape, Amaimon would be furious.

He'd rampage, He'd destroy and destroy and destroy until he had you back in his possession. He may not be as powerful as he was back when he wasn't subjugated by Shiemihaza, But you know he's still capable of causing devastation.

It's the rare time he shows genuine outrage, Such wild and unforgiving possessive anger.

You better hope you run far, Run fast, Run until your legs collapse from under you. Hide somewhere urban where his kin are unlikely to roam and hope to GOD Amaimon won't find you.

He won't give up. He'll never give up.

All in all, Make sure you stay away from rural areas. Hope to the lord that Mephisto likes you enough to let you leave like that and keep aware of your surroundings at all times.

Good luck!

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[buffkitties]

I think I finally understand what bothers me in a lot of Komaeda rants/analysis people make, and it's actually when they talk about him like he puts everyone on a toxic pedestal.

Now, don't get me wrong, he does, but not in the way people tend to talk about him.

The problem really comes in when they put him in a separate group because of it, or treat him like an outcast—an anomaly—some sort of difference, instead of looking at it like a general thing.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to understand his beliefs, of course, but when you do... Try not to focus on what just he feels, okay?

Really, Komaeda only talks about talent like everybody else does, especially people with no talent, such as Hinata, who's perspective we can see clearly.

The one difference that appears is the fact that unlike others, he is very open about it and speaks from his perspective honestly.

Which is what weirds people out, or makes them uncomfortable, or offends them.

It's because they're hyperaware of their status.

Don't misunderstand. It's not that I'm saying Komaeda is in the wrong here. In fact, I'm saying that it's the opposite.

Imagine... You are talking to this person, and you talk about a problem that may or may not include them while saying only the truth, no matter how ugly, and they take it personally.

Still too vague?

For example, you're talking to a straight person about homophobia openly and telling them they have privilege and talk about how it is for you. Yet, they get offended because how dare you imply they have something to do with it?

I mention this in my posts a lot, actually. Talented people get offended or uncomfortable when they're presented with a scenario in which they have to acknowledge they have privilege or that they treat people with no talent horribly, and then it's like a, "I don't want to be grouped with that," mindset. Sometimes, it probably even happens because it's like a slap in the face, reminding them of something they have done themself that made them fit into the category.

Because Komaeda very openly tells them they are privileged and how worthless he is compared to them, and just how great they are, they get offended, or see it as strange, or simply avoid him.

Another mistake I see in a lot of people's view of him is that they try to understand his beliefs through him and search for them in places that are unnecessary.

Don't look for it in the way he acts on the daily. You won't see it unless you convince yourself you saw it.

By taking regular things he does and grouping them with his thoughts on talent, that is what makes people misunderstand him and not see his actual beliefs, which then affects how they write his interactions with a lot of the other characters, especially Hinata.

Or when people focus, again, only on what Komaeda sees.

Because he is just another person who fell victim to talent and was forced to look up to it while being worthless himself.

Sure, he has talent... But that talent is different from other talents, and no hope comes with it or from within the person who has it. Plus, he can not offer anything at all, except to remove himself from a situation because of that talent, a lot of the time.

Him leaving a situation feels like a good thing to him—even if it hurts him or it means he will have to stop enjoying something, because that means nobody will get hurt, or the situation won't get worse.

Speaking of his beliefs is one thing that irks me the most, especially when people misunderstand his attitude towards worthless people.

He's not being condescending, nor does he hate them or feel disgust towards them.

He sympathises with them.

And he understands them. He is one of them.

But, once again, he speaks of their status honestly and very openly.

This time, however, it comes more with insecurity—because Komaeda's thing is that he makes people hyperaware of stuff due to the fact he never filters anything or beats around the bush.

And, again, chapter 4 doesn't account for anything because that had nothing to do with talent. His behaviour was more hostile because they were remnants, and so was Hinata, and he felt disgusted by them all, including himself.

Another important thing about Komaeda is that he's never trying to be rude, insulting, or offensive in some way. He just comes off that way with how blunt he is.

He's a respectful person and sees past talent. He sees the person underneath, and he sees their actions.

The way he refers to them and talks about them and himself is not because he sees them for their talent but because he's acknowledging the toxic pedestal that society made for them.

Besides, he only really mentions it when he's responding to someone, like if they ask him a question or something connects to talent.

He doesn't do anything for no reason.

That's a very important character trait of his, that everyone forgets.

Everything he does has a reason behind it.

And there's no secret motive. There's nothing hidden. It's right there. He tells you the reason or shows you, and there's no doubt about it. The reason people get sceptical is specifically because he's so open.

I feel like people also tend to pay attention to unnecessary things like his character in anything except Sdr2.

Because... Urm... He's very out of character anywhere outside of Sdr2.

So it's not a good idea, nor a fair one, to judge him or try to analyse his character in those pieces before you grasp his character in Sdr2 first. Moreover, DR3 actually goes against his original character, so that's an even worse thing to do.

I see people do that a lot, which ruins their perspective of him severely.

If you want to connect DR3 or anything other than Sdr2 to Komaeda and use it to analyse him or add depth to his character, you have to understand Sdr2 Komaeda first.

You can only begin to grasp him if you understand him in Sdr2, then remember that original character and get rid of the contradictions in, for example, DR3, and his character will reveal himself more to you.

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

Just to start off with, I would avoid using the word "dogmas" to describe what I think you're talking about regarding the Jedi here. You obviously don't have to personally share the Jedi's belief system or anything, you don't even have to enjoy the Jedi as characters, but the word "dogma" comes with a very specific connotation that is decidedly negative. The word "beliefs" or "philosophies" or even "traditions" or "practices" might better encompass what you're trying to say without placing an unnecessary judgment on a fictional culture that is pulling from a lot of REAL cultures and THEIR beliefs and practices. It's not dogma to live a lifestyle you wouldn't choose for yourself.

I would also argue that you probably like their philosophies and beliefs more than you think you do if you enjoy some of the Jedi characters. Obviously not every character needs to be to your taste, it'd be incredibly unrealistic for that to be true, but if you enjoy characters like Obi-Wan, or Mace, or Kit Fisto, or Shaak Ti, who are all very consummate Jedi and whose choices and stories almost always reflect their Jedi beliefs and philosophies, then you might actually be more chill with the Jedi than you think you are.

And this doesn't necessarily mean that you need to be invested in exploring Jedi culture as part of your fan experience or anything, but you don't NEED to feel the desire to explore Jedi culture in order to enjoy the Jedi. I don't think you need to separate out your enjoyment of specific Jedi characters from an enjoyment of the Jedi as a whole just because you maybe don't feel the need to dig into day-to-day life as a Jedi. But if you enjoy individual Jedi characters, you DO enjoy the Jedi, that's... sort-of involved in liking the Jedi characters even if not everyone is willing to admit it.

But honestly, I also think it's fine to have a somewhat complicated or more neutral relationship with certain characters. You don't have to love or hate everybody in the story. You can be neutral on characters like Jar Jar or Anakin if you want, or you can find Anakin a fascinating character while recognizing that he is in general an awful person who you would obviously hate in real life. You can find Jar Jar occasionally fun or funny without needing to adore him or think he's the best character in Star Wars or even appreciate every joke he's involved in.

For the Jedi, I think you can sit in a place where maybe what you enjoy about them most is the lightsabers and action scenes, and even though the culture itself isn't something you feel like exploring you can recognize that it's still an intrinsic part of what makes some of your favorite individual Jedi so likable. That sense of honor and compassion, their dedication to doing the right thing no matter what, THAT'S JEDI STUFF. If Obi-Wan's kindness towards everyone and his tenacity towards hardship in his life are some of the traits you like about him, THOSE ARE JEDI TRAITS.

The Jedi are, in many ways, the moral compass of the story and its beating heart, its emotional core. There's a reason that the climactic victorious ending of the entire original trilogy is named "The Return of the Jedi." The triumph comes from Luke truly embodying the Jedi, truly BECOMING a Jedi by acting with selflessness and compassion. Luke saving the Jedi from disappearing forever is the victory, almost more than Luke saving Anakin, because the Jedi are the symbol of hope in the galaxy. Saving Anakin wouldn't be possible and wouldn't really MEAN anything if Luke weren't a Jedi.

This is why I find it so ridiculous that so many people don't like the Jedi or their way of life when the Jedi's philosophies are literally baked into the entire thematic storyline right up to its triumphant ending. If you like Star Wars at all, you probably DO like the Jedi and their beliefs, whether you realize it or not, at least to some degree. Some of the individual Jedi characters may not be to your taste, fine, but the Jedi's belief system are literally the entire thematic message of Lucas's Skywalker Saga.

[samobservessonic]

Next, we move onto a Knuckles story that I’m much more glad has run for six parts than I was the last six part Knuckles story, with the shock(?) reveal from last time that Nack has betrayed the Chaotix to the new Metallix army in exchange for cash. I assume this was arranged prior to the Chaotix getting the jump on Knuckles at the start of this arc? So Knuckles was probably an added bonus for Nack

No one is surprised to learn that the Metallix aren’t keeping their word to Nack. What’s the most interesting here is the hint that Nack is a tech guy in StC. He’s hardly been established beyond “traitor” here, but we will be seeing more of what he can do in future

Even here, while it doesn’t help him, we see that Nack was prepared for a potential betrayal and brought a shrinking gun hidden in his hat. That’s kind of Nack’s thing in StC - he’s got weapons and stuff that he can shrink and grow. We’ll definitely be seeing more of that later

It does paint the picture of how much money means to Nack as well, if he assumed that the Metallix were probably going to betray him, but went along with this on the slim chance that they wouldn’t

Here you go everyone - Knuckles with a gun

Had he not been struck down, Nack could’ve even walked away with a victory today, since his weapon does manage to wipe out all of the Metallixes!

And since the Chaotix are the good guys, they even take him with them as they make their escape

That’s the last we see of them for this story, as on the next page, Knuckles is being dropped off home by the now recovered Omni-Viewer. He rightly assumes that there’s more to the Metallixes’ behaviour than what Robotnik’s ordering them to do and oh boy, we’re coming up to that plot point!

Eh, maybe Nack wouldn’t have been okay after all, since it turns out that the Metallixes were faking it. That’s actually really clever - they’re robots, so a display of bravado means nothing to them. The best way for them to win the fight was to simply pretend they were beaten, so their opponents would leave without causing them unnecessary damage. You don’t normally see this outcome in a comic aimed at young teenagers, since the goal is often to get to the cool fights as quickly as possible. But them wanting to avoid a fight just makes the most sense

Also, they’ve got an evil Omni-Viewer now. They can go anywhere in time and space, easily making them the most dangerous enemies in the comic. I’m also chuckling nervously, because now I have to confess that I’m a casual Doctor Who fan at best (shout out to the Ninth Doctor, love that guy!) and I’m probably not going to pick up on all the Doctor Who inspiration that went into these guys. But trust me when I say that it’s there

To hammer home this point, we end this story on this awesome establishing shot of the Brotherhood of Metallix! Once again, Elson absolutely sells this. You can feel what a massive threat this is and I’m sure there were no shortage of kids writing in asking to see more of this story But for now, it’s over and it looks like next time we’ll be getting that Knuckles & Tails story that was allured to in the main story last issue Well, now that it’s finished, I only have good things to say about this story. Despite being a backup story, it established some very central themes and gave us the biggest threat in this comic so far. If you were wondering how they’d hit the ground running after the S3&K arc, well, this is it! A lot of concepts from the game were brought into the fold in one fell swoop and honestly, for me, it worked really well. While I’d have had no problem with Nack getting a separate introduction arc, I like him as the traitor to the Chaotix and there are a lot of places you can take him from there. The Chaotix themselves are going to become big players in StC from here on out as well. Y’know, I do wonder if SEGA gave a push to StC and Archie to work in the Chaotix after Knuckles Chaotix came out or if both comics just decided having more game characters in the mix was a good idea. Because, I’ll be honest, if not for the Chaotix being in StC, I probably wouldn’t have heard of them prior to Sonic Heroes. Knuckles Chaotix was not a game anyone really talked about when I was a kid and I wasn't online until a lot later But where Archie kept the Chaotix as Knuckles’s support cast, StC actually used them mostly separately to Knuckles, adding another point to their “StC was accidentally right about something to do with the Chaotix” tally. This isn’t to say we’re never going to get more stories with Knuckles interacting with them, but we’re also going to be getting a lot of them doing their own thing. One of the biggest arcs I remember with these guys teams them up with Sonic, not Knuckles, as he gets stuck in the Special Zone for a while

I’m getting ahead of myself there. For now, we have a solid arc that leaves us with a lot of potential in future, as StC refuses to wind down the stakes on their way into the dry period of getting new Sonic games

[the1975attheirverybest]

(Cabin) Pressure

A/N: This is probably unnecessary and super indulgent, lmao. I just have this impossible urge to baby him, OKAY? he's so....UGH!! anywaysssss!!! As requested by quite a few of you, here's part 2 of the flight one-shot. on a scale from 1 to absolute dumpster fire, lmk how bad it is, lol. Honestly I’m so conflicted about posting it, I might end up deleting later. AND YES SMUT COMING TONIGHT, I PROMISE. Just can't be writing smut at work in case one of my students comes to my office.

Read Part 1 here.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, depiction of panic attack.

----

The guys hurried ahead to give her and Matty some privacy. She felt Matty's hand stiffen in hers as soon as he watched the automatic doors of the Departures Terminal open and his bandmates walk right in. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his breathing quickened.

She squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to his body. "Hey," she looked up at him. "You're gonna be alright, yeah?"

Matty gave her a weak smile, nodding slowly. He wasn't sure he believed her. He wanted to. Desperately. But he couldn't control it. It was like his body reflexively reacted to his surroundings before his mind could step in and control how he felt. He could physically sense the tension seeping into his body, right on cue.

"Well, shall we?" he turned to her.

"No pressure. Take as long as you need. We've got time. We'll go in whenever you're ready."

"But the lads-"

"Matty, look at me...there you are. We'll catch up with them at the gate, yes? It's okay." Her free hand moved to touch his face, the sensation grounding him.

"Right, sorry, I'm being silly." he smiled timidly. "Okay, think I'm read. Let's do this."

"Lead the way."

She kept her eye on him as they made their way through the airport, watching his body for any signs of stress.

Matty stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw the airline counters at the end of the hall.

"Fuck! My passport! Don't think it's in my bag! I don't remember seeing it-"

"Oh, god, sorry! I- I took it." she winced and looked apologetically up at him. "Sorry, I- uh, I thought if I kept track of the tickets, paperwork, and passports it...would give you some wiggle room so you didn't have to worry about sorting that stuff out...It's all with me! I have them here..."

To her surprise, and relief, Matty burst out laughing. "I think by thinking so hard about not panicking, I'm startin' to stress myself out. Alright, deep breaths."

She watched Matty close his eyes and take two deep breaths. Inhaling slowly, then opening his eyes as he exhaled.

"Okay, I'm all good now." He smiled, genuine this time. "And, thank you, baby, that was really kind of you to do." He dipped his head down to give her a quick kiss.

She rummaged through her bag, pulling out their documents as they approached the counter. "I can do it if you'd like..."

"No, it's okay. Think I can handle this. But, umm, keep holdin' my hand?" He blushed as he heard his own words leave his lips.

"Of course. I'm right here. All the way until security physically separates us."

***

With check-in and security now behind them, they wandered the airport in search of their gate, and the rest of their group. Matty seemed to relax a little, so she took the chance to suggest breakfast.

"Hey, wanna go over there and get something to eat?" she point towards the express version of some chain restaurant.

"Too anxious to eat. Afraid I won't be able to keep anything down."

"Please, baby? the nausea's probably worse when you're operating on an empty stomach. Let me buy you a little snack? you don't have to eat it right away..." She noticed Matty's attention shift from her gentle pleading to something else, something right behind her. "What're you looking at?" she frowned at the faint smile on his face. Turning around to check what was behind her, she saw a pair of young women, roughly in their early 20s, eyeing him hesitantly and struggling to contain their excitement.

"do you mind waitin' a bit? Think I'll go over there."

"Matty, are you sure? You know you don't have to do that if you're not feeling it."

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, my love. Put yourself in their shoes...you're tellin' me that if we bumped into, I don't know, Harry Styles, right now, you wouldn't go up to him to say hello?"

She giggled and shook her head. "I- I wouldn't expect HIM to be the one to come to ME."

"Oh, so now you're telling me that, if Harry Styles were right here, right now, you'd actually have the courage to go up to him yourself?"

She couldn't help but smile. At least, the fact that he took the opportunity to tease her about her celebrity crush was an indicator that he was in a good enough mood. "Alright, let's go say hi." She relented.

"I appreciate you watching out of me." He placed his hands on her cheeks, kissing her, and giggling against her lips bit at the sound of the girls squealing behind him before he went over to greet them.

He sweetly introduced himself as Matty and gave each woman a hug, whispering "nice to meet you, Darlin'" as he pulled them in. He signed the backs of their itineraries, agreed to FaceTime a friend, and stood for pictures with them.

"Do you wanna take it or do you want me to take it? Actually, you know what? My girlfriend, here, can take it...Babe?" He gestured for her to come closer, "do you mind?" handing her the girls' phones.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and whispering in her ear as they walked away, waving the girls goodbye and wishing them a safe trip.

"I never said it would be bad! I was-"

"Just trying to take care of me, I know." He kissed her cheek. "But I'm okay. Really. Cuz I've got you."

***

The flight seemed off to a good start, with her and the guys taking turns at sitting with, and distracting, Matty from his thought spiral. Take off was a bit rough for a moment; he visibly broke a sweat and almost crushed her hand in his while the plane settled into altitude. She quickly brought him back the a calm enough state after that, though. They argued over which film to watch, eventually agreed to each watch their own choice, before Matty petulantly abandoned his screen and begged to watch whatever she was watching instead. This, of course, meant that she had to pause and explain the plot to him, bring him up to speed. She pretended to be annoyed with him, but secretly, she was glad for it because, the more that she actively participated in distracting him, the less likely it was that he'd let his mind wander and start overthinking.

Her plan seemed to be working, until it wasn't. 7 hours into the flight, Matty's senses were overwhelmed. He could no longer block the anxious thoughts away by steering his attention towards her, his friends, or whatever forms of entertainment were available to him. He even got out his laptop, tried to do some work to keep his mind occupied, but as time went on, his anxiety sucked more and more of his energy, until his will inevitably weakened, and he succumbed to the catastrophic thinking...

His eardrums pounded with the sound of his own heartbeat, the sounds of his surroundings being reduced to a faint, persistent whisper. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs, panting and sweating as his eyes scanned the tight quarters. The voice inside his head screamed for him to leave the airplane, but he was aware enough to know that it was physically impossible to escape. Both sides of his brain locked in an impossible battle, the result was a near-complete paralysis. He lost the feeling in his limbs, his vision going blurry. Even breathing became a consuming conscious task. He felt like he was drowning underwater.

"M-matty? my love, what's the matter?" She was immediately alarmed when she'd glanced away from her book to check in with him. "You look like you're gonna be sick...Do you need me to call for someone?"

With great effort, Matty shook his head, looking helplessly at her.

"Talk to me, honey..."

"P-panic attack." he stuttered, short-winded and struggling to breathe.

The words brought instant tears to her eyes, and for a moment, she was overwhelmed by how quickly his pain had crushed her heart, but she wasn't about to make this about herself.

Delicately, she reached around his neck, loosing his tie. "I'm gonna take this off, okay?" explaining each of her movements as she did them so as not to startle him with anything unexpected. Matty's scattered brain was, of course, much too overwhelmed to process anything that she was saying to him, but the softness of her tone somehow made him nod anyway. She stood up, looking a few rows behind her, for George. They'd made an agreement that she would signal to him if she needed his help. Unfortunately, though, George was sound asleep, from what she could tell.

Shifting her attention back to Matty. "I'm gonna undress you, okay?"

She unbuttoned his button-down. "Honey, are you with me? need you to take off your undershirt, okay? it's much too tight."

When he made no effort to follow her instructions, she reached over and took it off for him. “Okay, I’ve got a better shirt for you in my bag. I just need to get it from the overhead bin, alright? I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Matty might as well have been asleep; he made no movement or attempt to acknowledge her, which broke her heart to a million pieces. 

She hurried over to George’s seat kicking it roughly to wake him up. 

“He needs you.” She simply stated as soon as she saw George’s eyes flutter open. 

George cleared his throat several times. “R-right. I’m up; I’m up. I promise.” He stood up, peaking ahead of him to wear Matty was seated. “He’s…naked?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, I’m getting him clothes. But I need you, you gentle giant. Help me get my bag before you sit with him? Just need to get his stuff…”

George sprung into action, following her commands swiftly while she went through her bag to find a 1975 crew neck that was two sizes too big on Matty, and a pair of his joggers. She’d packed them when he insisted on wearing his shirt and tie to the airport, hoping she’d use them under happier circumstances, but right now, she was just glad she’d thought ahead. She went over to the flight attendant and grabbed him some water to go along with the sleeping pills. 

By the time that she’d made it back to their seats George, had somehow talked Matty into reclining his seat, closing his eyes, and apparently leant  him some headphones. “What- how-“

George, ever the wizard, just shrugged. “It’s all I could think of, alright?”

She broke into a smile, kissing her friend’s balding head. “You’re an Angel, George.”

“Hmm.” George hummed, smirking. “Listen, I’ll go get a coffee to wake myself up. Give me a shout if you need me, yeah?”

***

Matty got through the reminder of the flight relatively alright. While he didn't manage to fall asleep, despite the sleeping pills she'd given him, nor did he manage to eat any real meals, the first class reclining chairs were comfortable enough for him to close his eyes and focus on an audio book for a couple of hours, and he did nibble on a piece of buttered toast while wrapped himself up in the blanket she'd bought him and shuffling through her especially curated playlist. The anxiety never completely left him, but he was happy to endure a lower-level persistent anxiousness instead of the sudden panic attack that had gripped him earlier.

At long last, they'd touched down and began their journey out of the airport. Matty always wondered if the arrivals terminal is universally more difficult to get through, or if his impatience to finally be done with the travel part always made it seem so, regardless of where in the world he'd found himself.

At baggage claim, the stress of the journey seemed to catch up to him. He wrapped his armed around her waist, burying his face into the side of her neck and breathing in her scent. Just when he'd closed his eyes, hoping to catch a breath while they waited for the couple of items that they could neither ship ahead of time, nor bring in their carry-ons, to appear on the carousel, he became aware of a couple of people catching on to his presence.

"No, Matty, please." her hand grabbed onto his arm around her waist when she felt him slip away from her, getting ready to greet the fans.

"It's fine, Darlin'" his voice was heavy with sleep, as were his eyes.

She sighed, this time, she couldn't be supportive of his decision. As she spotted his guitar and got ready to retrieve it, she overheard him apologize to a few people for "looking sweaty" and mumbling something about jet lag. Ross stepped in to help her with the bag, listening silently and nodding in agreement as she whispered her complaints about Matty's lack of boundaries. If she'd let him get a word in edgewise, he'd have said "you should've seen him when our career first started, he was acting like he was every fan's best mate." George joined Matty for a moment, saying a quick hello to everyone before politely excusing himself and pulling his friend away. "We've gotta go, Matty, c'mon."

Though George had succeeded in extracting Matty away, his victory was short-lived. At the airport gates, the guys were surprised to find a group of more than just a handful of fans waiting for them. Phone cameras flashed as soon as the gates opened, the crowd calling out and vying for the band's attention.

Adam was the first to jump into their designated car as it pulled up by the side of the building. Ross and George followed shortly behind him. Matty, on the other hand, was quickly separated from them when he paused momentarily, slightly thrown off, by the presence of people on both sides of the gates.

She rushed over to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the car. For a moment, Matty let her lead the way, trailing behind her with a hand on her hip to keep from losing her. He kept his head down, but closer he got to the crowd, the louder they were, and the faster his heart beat. His palms were beginning to sweat and breathing was getting difficult again. A voice in the back of his head told him to stop, to take a look around and stop staring at his feet, and when he did, he saw the faces of the people looking at him and he couldn't help it. He let go of her hand, walking over to one group, while the other screamed out his name.

She attempted to call out his name, but her voice was drowned out by the phones beeping, cameras flashing, and excited chatter. She stood there, astounded as he smiled and hugged a few people, apologizing that he couldn't sign someone's phone case because he didn't have a pen on him.

He turned around to the second group, "I promise, I'll get to all of you if we don't cause too much trouble and security doesn't get involved. could we...maybe just move away from the gates?"

She sighed, exasperated by the lengths he was going to. He was practically behaving like a event organizer, ushering people away from the rest of the public.

As well intentioned as his plan was, it did not work out quite as he’d imagined. the moment that he moved people away from the airport gates, everyone naturally formed a circle around him, a few people elbowing their way to the front. He was trapped.

Matty froze in place, fighting to keep his expression straight and suppress the fight or flight response that had kicked in. What had he done? The illusion that he had any control at all over the situation was quickly blown away. She could see his hands shaking by the sides of his body as he struggled to regulate his breathing. She couldn’t take it anymore.

She squeezed her way past an appreciable number of people, trying to get to Matty. “Excuse me, yeah, could I just- get through. Thanks.” She grabbed his hand. “Hey, you,” and leaned into his ear “Matty, whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not smart. Let’s leave.”

“Just a second. Almost done.” He whispered, fully aware that there was no way people weren’t listening to their conversation.

“You’re not feeling well, let’s get in the car, please?”

“A few more people-“ she pulled him by the arm dragging him away from people and towards the car. Matty waved apologetically at groaning people who were mumbling how unfair this was, dipping his head low and rushing to keep up with  her. 

The chatter between the guys in the car fell silent as she and Matty climbed in. They settled into the backseat with Matty instantly clinging to her and resting his head on her chest as the car drove away. Her hands reflexively found his hair, running her fingers through it and kissing his forehead.

“Baby? Could I just say something?” Matty spoke, finally breaking the dead silence, once they’d made it onto the highway. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” She said firmly.

Ross and Adam exchanged a look of surprise. Clearly impressed with, and in support of, her new tone.

Matty lifted his head halfway off of her looking up at her. “But I’d just like to explain-“

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Can we not talk about it right now?”

He replaced his head back on her body, her hands resuming their soothing motions through his hair. “Can tell you’re angry.” He mumbled. 

“No shit! Of course I’m angry.” He heard her heartbeat rise as she spoke. Her hands still comforting him though her tone was definitely sharp. 

“I just wanna-“

“I said I don’t want to have this conversation right now, and yet, you keep fuckin’ pushing. Look, I know you love your fans. You’re grateful. And, honestly, it is one of the greatest joys of my life watching you interact with them. The knowledge that you can be so tender and compassionate- not just with me me, not with your family, the boys, your friends- but with complete strangers as well…that’s what makes you a man in my eyes. So, trust me, Matty, I don’t say this lightly, but you have absolutely no boundaries. You’re a pushover!”

Matty was quiet for a moment, taking in the gravity of her words. “Okay, I can see why you’d think that.” he opened his eyes, looking up her through his hair. “But could I just explain my side of things?”

“There is no ‘your side’! You are mentally and physically exhausted. Matty- you were literally shaking. And, this wasn’t a professional event! This wasn’t a signing or a meet-and-greet!”

“That’s exactly why l-“

“My point is, it wasn’t safe! What if someone’d gotten hurt? What if you’d gotten hurt? There was no security to control the situation. Nobody to help or be held accountable! There’s a reason everyone else was sitting in this car, and not out there with you.”

“I get it.” Matty conceded.

“We were all bending over backwards to make sure you’re okay, then you go and willingly put yourself in a stressful situation that would trigger you. I mean,” she shook her head, speechless. 

“I just- I’m sorry.”

“I know. Let’s just not talk about it anymore. Alright?”

Matty’s arms squeezed around her waist as he nuzzled his face deeper into her chest, kissing her skin in a silent apology.

The car fell into another silent lull, until, several minutes later, George peaked his head from the passengers seat and told her and Matty not to check Twitter. 

“Oh, god. What’d you have to say that for? You know Matty’s gonna wanna see it now!” Adam groaned, chastising George. 

“What?” George shrugged. “I said ‘whatever you do, don’t check Twitter,’ I didn’t say to hurry up and check it.”

“I’ve literally been biting my tongue this whole ride.”

Matty, who’d been  half asleep in her arms, pulled out his phone, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light of the screen. 

Just as he’d suspected, photos of him being dragged away from adoring fans were already circulating the internet. All captioned with dramatic out of context narratives. 

“Matty Healy and gf argue in the middle of airport parking lot”

“1975 front man  physically dragged away from fans by possessive gf.”

Comments embellished the description using every colorful name in the book. From “jealous” and “immature” to “frigid witch.”

Matty set his phone down, neither one of them said anything. They spent the remainder of their ride to the hotel in silence. 

***

“How’re you feeling?” She emerged out of the bathroom, walking over to Matty’s slumped over figure on the bed. 

“I’m sleepy, and hungry, and tired, and I smell like airplane.” He mumbled. “I’m also sad.”

“Why’re you sad?” She bent down to kiss his nose. 

“Cuz you’re mad at me. You don’t seem to understand- the fans…they’re like the most important thing. Unless I’m physically tied down, I will always go out there and meet them. Never gonna be dismissive. Never gonna make them feel like they don’t matter to me.” Matty sat up in bed, taking her hands in his, and pulling her closer to him. “You can’t put out the kind of music that I put out, and then pretend not to want anything to do with the people who listen to it.” She nodded, attempting to signal that she was on his side. “There are ways of saying ‘sorry, not today guys.’ Without being dismissive or rude.”

“I hope you know, that’s never gonna be me. I’d never say that to them. It’s just not who I am.”

“I know. I don’t expect you to suddenly change. I just hope you don’t expect me to either. Cuz I’m still gonna worry about you and try to protect you when you’re in over your head.”

Matty smiled at her with droopy eyes. “Deal.” He kissed her lips. 

“Sorry they’re saying mean shit online.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted to be a witch since I was a little girl!” She giggled. “Now, c’mon. I ran us a bath.”

“Wait…us? Like you AND me?”

***

“You had a really rough day today, huh?” She whispered as she snuggled into him, getting comfortable in their hotel bed. 

Matty turned on his side to face her, the smell of her freshly washed hair calming his mind. “Couldn’t have gotten through it without you.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby.”

“Could we just…stay here, in this bed, for ever. Just you and me. Where it’s safe, soft, quiet.”

“Sounds like a great idea. Yeah, let’s do that.”

[tokoyamisstuff]

Breaking Bonds Ch. 4

Glossu Rabban "The Beast" Harkonnen x F! Reader

Chapter Summary: While Rabban is in denial, even dangerous foes grow impatient. Warnings: Angst, slight manhandling A/N: I hate this chapter with a passion idk why it was so hard to write for me. I just gave up, here ya go. 😩

"No one is born evil. People must learn to hate. And if they can do that, then they can also be taught love - for love comes more naturally to the human heart than the opposite."

[Previous Chapter]

Every day is the same here on Giedi Prime - for you at last.

Today would be an exception however, since you had been summoned to an audience with the Baron himself. Suddenly the absence of your husband felt more like a disadvantage than a break...

Rabban was currently far away on Lankiveil, your beloved homeworld. He would never take you with him on these long travels, claiming you'd only be dead weight and an easy target for assassinations.

You presumed it was another form of abuse to keep you separated from what was left of your family, but honestly you were glad - because even though you missed them painfully, you wouldn't want to accompany the Beast tormenting your people.

Dreading the confrontation you hoped that the maids would take their time adorning you, so you could mentally prepare for what's to come.

They dressed you up like a porcelain doll, always in some kind of black attire and with an unnaturally pale shade of makeup - a pathetic attempt at making you blend in with those awful people.

What could the Baron of all people want from someone like you?

This man was an enigma - a macabre personification of greed. He was probably the most ruthless, sick and twisted of all Harkonnens...

...and also the one whose influence turned your husband into the sociopathic killing machine he is now.

Everyone on Lankiveil knew the story about how Rabban became the 'Fist of House Harkonnen': Glossu Rabban was born and partially raised on your homeworld. His mother was a Bene Gesserit and also part of the influental native 'Rabban' family - and yet he shared nothing but disdain for his birthplace.

The former count of your planet, his father and the Baron's brother, was a surprisingly righteous man. He had ruled over Lankiveil with only it's best interest in mind, sparing the populace unnecessary cruelty as long as they'd fulfill their obligations.

Rabban however - as the tales from your elders said - was already born a monster.

Even his own parents, though loving him dearly, started fearing their instable son and his sheer insatiable urge for destruction and violence. And when the time came that he was pronounced 'Nu-Baron', being called to Giedi Prime in order to learn under his uncle's wing, all hope was lost...

...since at his return, Glossu was completely out of control, scarred both mentally and physically.

Only frations of the agony he underwent were whispered on Giedi Prime, what inhumane measurements his uncle had used to scatter Rabban's mind and form a perfectly obedient puppet.

Warped through the time spent under his uncles care, he had forsaken all the teachings his parents had so desperately tried him to embrace.

The list of his crimes exceeds your knowledge and contains basically everything one could imagine. Well, they don't call him Beast for nothing.

It pained you to admit, but despite his atrocious deeds your heart was breaking for your husband - what he could've been, if not for his upbringing.

That made you wonder: Lately, Rabban's behavior had shifted drastically.

Ever since his recovery he seemed to...hesitate. Refrained from laying hands on you or any other ruthless actions. Left you alone most of the time - no, he was actively avoiding you.

Could it be your actions have caused him to have a change of heart, as far as that's possible for someone like him?

Maybe that's just wishful thinking, though - most likely he was just lulling you into a false sense of security to strike soon after.

"One of your maidens has informed me that your monthly bleeding started again."

The Baron's words shook you like a hammer to the forehead, betrayal in your gaze as you locked eyes with the maid that merely did as she was told in order to survive.

Before you could possibly explain yourself, the hideous man would continue his lecture - both irritated and grossed out that he had to bother himself with this matter. "I couldn't care less about the affairs of my nephew's bedroom, but the Order of the Bene Gesserit has started asking questions."

Still kneeling down out of respect - and mainly fear for your life - you wanted to bargain for more time. "M'lord Baron, I-"

A single gesture of his hand cut you off and you immediately complied. It was hard to put into words, but everything about this man made your alarm bells ring. His way of talking was mellow and sophisticated, but he wouldn't even try to hide the malice behind it.

All you could do was hope for his mercy.

"I understand you find my nephew appaling" he explained while loudly chewing his food - talk about disgusting. "But you need to invite him to lay with you for as many times as necessary. Such is your marital duty."

Yes: As long as the Bene Gesserit were expecting you to bear them children, your life would be spared either way.

Not even the Harkonnen would dare to mess with the Order.

"B-But I-I..." So many thoughts were running simultaneously through your mind, but there was no use in explaining your situation. No way he'd take your side - and even if he believed you, the Baron couldn't be trusted. "I understand. Soon, M'lord."

"A doctor will make an appointment with you at the end of this quartal" he informed you, two guards already preparing to guide you back to the chambers. "Shall you not be with child by then, we'll find out if there's an underlying issue...and you know which consequences are tied to it. You may leave."

Still trembling when you arrived at your only safe haven on this planet, your facade immediately dropped as you curled into yourself and submitted to your panic.

Over those past weeks you had desperately offered yourself to Rabban, and every single time he had declined.

The guilt of being responsible for the suffering of countless random women he would rage himself out on instead of you was already crushing enough...

...but now you also had to fear for your own safety, shall you fail to bring forth a heir.

"Have you even stepped outside this room since I left?"

Rabban's greeting cut through the silence long after your breakdown, making you realize just how much time had passed. Sometimes it was hard to tell, on a planet where no sunlight ever hit the surface.

Usually you'd jump at your husband's voice, yet right now you felt almost jubilant being able to settle this issue.

"I rarely leave our home" you admitted shyly, gifting him a welcoming - and almost convincing - smile. "It's unsettling out there, without you at my side."

Indeed, all of those Harkonnen soldiers patroling the hallways painfully reminded you of the war and what it - no, what they made you lose.

Neither the Baron, nor the court or even the servants acknowledged you as one of them. Their aversion due to your heritage was no secret, yet other than subtle looks or whispers they treated you with rather neutral respect.

Your husband was simply too feared even by his own kin, so harming you was out of the question.

All things considered, you held a very high status thanks to your ties to the Beast. It was a luxurious life, at least superficially. And yet excruxiatingly lonely - like a bird in a golden cage.

And still you prefered to isolate yourself, staying in the security of your room to read, thus had even become fluent in their language in no time.

Rabban narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly doubting that statement - to be fair, he was not really the type of person others claimed to feel safe around.

Yet over time you had become at least civil with each other - might even say there was a somewhat mutual understanding.

"Let me help you out of that armor" you offered, realizing he was still in full - bloodied - battlegear. Better try not to think about who those stains belongs to...

Your husband flinched at the sudden invasion of his personal space, yet in the end accepted the gesture without further struggle. He even tried to make himself appear smaller as a sign of goodwill - a sheer impossible task for a man of his calibre.

His eyes would never leave you as you worked on the leather straps of his chest, muscles tensing under your touch. A deep breath escaped his throat, relaxing at the way your scent filled his nostrils, the feeling of your fingers dancing across the fabric and barely ghosting the skin underneath.

Rabban would rather drop dead than to admit it, even to himself - but he missed you dreadfully.

Slowly but steadily he grew fond of the way you were always at his side, indulging in your little acts of kindess despite the circumstances.

You began lingering in the back of his mind, invading his thoughts even when you weren't physically there - like an itch one couldn't quite reach.

No wonder he began killing more frequently, more erratic since you stepped into his life.

It's a need that must be met when the noise in his head becomes too overwhelming, when his muscles itch and his nerves felt like they were struck by lightning.

Holding back his destructive urges for your sake surely went against his nature.

"All done" you cheer clasping your hands together, and Rabban internally whines as your touch leaves him. He never felt like this before - so pathetic and needy.

Why now? And why with you?

You were a plain and inferior creature, there was absolutely nothing special about you at all.

Rabban on the other hand was the member of a main house, feared among the whole known universe. He could quite literally do as he pleased, with everything and everyone he wanted...

...then why was he still drawn to you like a moth to the light?

There is a saying that a person who has nothing to yearn for loses purpose in life - and without purpose, will eventually lose their mind as well.

Harkonnens had become so obscenely rich that their materialistic wealth turned them insane. They indulged in different facets of violent perversion, having compeltely discarded all moral and humanity in their shallow lives.

And yet...

"You got quite comfortable around me, huh?" he remarked, giving it his utmost to remain intimidating but failing miserably.

"Maybe we simply got used to each other" you chuckled bluntly, "Why, is that something bad?"

"No" he crossed his arms and grinned mischievously, "Was thinking of going easier on you anyway. My uncle warned me. He would be furious if you'd take your own life just because I went too overboard."

Oh, so that's the reason.

You felt almost sad that you were proven right: His changed attitude meant nothing - Rabban was still the same, selfish and opportunistic person.

Either way, now was your chance. "Concerning your uncle-"

"Here." It seems he was so deeply buried in thought that he didn't even hear what you've been trying to say.

You almost failed to catch whatever Rabban threw towards your lap, and when you recognized the item you were shocked to say the least. "Where did you-"

"Just take it and let me unwind in peace" he growled, sounding annoyed yet still on edge for your reaction. "It's been a long travel, so be quiet now."

Back during his campaign on Lankiveil, Rabban was desperately trying to distract himself from those nagging thoughts about you. So at some point, he decided to went out for a nightly hunt.

Laying waste to a small village, taking all that's not nailed down. Killing everything that moved, animals and humans alike - at least that was the plan.

When he and his men strolled across the lively market of the town, it fell dead silent. He realized there was some kind of festive going on, and decided if you weren't able to enjoy it then neither of them would...

...yet just when he was about to break hell loose, he spotted a familiar trinket on one of the sale-tables.

It was similar to yours - he accidentally broke the piece during one of his regular anger fits. He remembers your reaction precisely, the way your bottom lip was quivering during your failed attempts to restore it.

The saleslady was quite frightened when he interrogated her, explaining to him that this day was a celebration of Lankiveil's new year - and the trinkets were gifts given to your most beloved as a symbol of your bond.

Your husband took the piece without payment, none of the natives daring to object let alone make any sound. They naively hoped to avoid their doom with this gesture, yet soon after Rabban told the soldiers to wreck the place and treat themselves to whatever. He was almost tempted to spare them, but showing mercy would mean losing face in front of his men.

Rabban himself however wasn't eager to join them anymore.

He thought himselr to be incapable of feeling, that all he was doomed to know were negative emotions.

And on that day he had learned yet another, different form of anger - jealousy.

Neither envy nor greed, just the stinging question why you possessed a neckalce meant for lovers only.

Did you have a lover before you were ripped out of your old life and placed into his?

The Beast watched you without further comment, seemingly indifferent - at least on the outside. You admired the pattern of the jewlery, let your fingers run across the carvings in awe before holding it to your chest, eyes wettening with tears.

His heart drops at the sight - the possibility of his theory being correct.

"Compensation for your old one." Tensed beyong belief, Rabban was pacing on the same spot as if not knowing what to do with himself. "I've learned they mean much to your folk."

"W-Why yes" you stutter, moved by his action but at the same time cautious: You were expecting an ulterior motive, a cruel twist to this gift. Maybe he had plucked it from a corpse of someone you knew, maybe he gave it to you just to smash it again and reenact your misery.

"It belonged to my mother, actually" you eventually opened up, and even though you knew he wouldn't care, having a proper conversation after such a long time of silence sure was enjoyable nonetheless. "My father gave it to her, and she handed it down to me. It was meant as a wedding gift before my department. So I won't forget them, or where I come from."

How ironic, he thought as he felt your confession remove the thorn that was so painfully planted in his chest.

So there was never a lover. It satisfied him, calmed down his racing heart yet only temporarily until you spoke up once again.

"Thank you, Rabban." This was the first time you used his real name instead of his title, and it sounded so smooth with your voice. "I appreciate the sentiment. I'll cherish it!"

Your words make him want to rip out your vocal cords so you lose that bewitching power over him.

Why does he care so much? Why does he - a literal behemoth - feel his knees weaken whenever you gave him the tiniest bit of affection?

The Beast merely harrumphed, tearing himself away from you and that damn smile that's too sweet to be genuine. "I don't care" he lies and hopes you know better than to inquire. "I'll be off-"

"Wait!" Just when you managed to grab the sleeve of his arm, his warrior's instinct caused him to turn around - his fist already in the air, ready to strike.

"...never do that again" he grumbled almost apologetic facing your cowering self, lowering his arm again.

"S-Sorry..." you whimpered, nervously fondling with your hands. "But we-we need to talk. Your uncle said the Bene Gesserit are growing impatient."

"So?" he shrugged, "We're only married for so long. What could they possibly want all of a sudden?"

"They want us to hurry. They want a child." Your husband's eyes widened for a sheer moment, murmuring "Did you tell my uncle?"

"The true reason? The fact that you're withholding from me? No."

"Why?" He gulped several times, but couldn't get that narrowing sensation out of his throat. "There's no need to cover up for me and take the blame."

Seeing a man like the Beast anxious like this made you grow even more worried. Who knows what punishment awaits for those disobeying in the Baron's schemes.

"That's a discrete matter and also none of his concern" you firmly say, taking a more confident stance. "And frankly, with all due respect, but I'd doubt he'll believe me with your kind of...reputation."

Rabban gives a crooked smirk at that jab of yours, but quickly grows serious again. "I'll resolve this, don't worry."

"How? You know there's only one way to do so." Your arms hung loosely, defeated to the sides - and then balled into fists as you accused him: "Or is that what you wsnt, having me rendered useless and disposed of?"

Your husband clenched his jaw, the piercing noise of a cracking teeth filling the room - but nothing else.

"What now, did the great Beast of Lankiveil forget how to talk?" Fury glimmers in his eyes and yet you were unable to hold yourself back, the only thing on your mind being a hopeless future. "I don't understand! Why are you acting this ambiguous? Stop being so cruel and dragging this out, if you want to kill me just do it now!"

With a loud BANG Rabban janked you by the hair and slammed your head onto the nearby tabletop, pressing your cheek onto the wooden surface. He had you bent over, an arm twisted painfully behind your back and the other flailing around to no avail.

"If you insist" His voice was calm, too calm and as unfaltering as his grip. "I can fuck that rebellious spirit out of you until you squeal."

You heared him groan shamelessly, crotch pressing against your behind in this indecent position, your wriggling and writhing only adding to his excitement.

"Then do it." Refusing to cry, you instead pierced him with a look of pure disgust and resentment. "Just get it over with, damn it."

Rabban was taken aback by your bold reaction, certain to have ruined this earlier blissful moment like he would always ruin everything.

"Stop looking at me that way." He shakily breathed out as he turned you around, now lying completely on the table. You felt his harness against your spread legs, about to lose focus as he pulled your hips even closer to his, fingers digging painfully into your thigs.

You wanted to resist, but he easily overpowered you, both hands tightly restrained over your head.

"Stop looking at me like that" he repeats, this time louder. There was something else in his voice other than anger and lust - it was hurt.

"I said STOP!"

When his hands find your throat dissociating became impossible, and your gaze softens with fear. Teardrops run down your cheeks and if it wouldn't be you beneath him, Rabban would certainly be even more turned on.

"P-Please" you choke, clawing at his arms as the lack of oxygen becomes more than a slight discomfort...

...and then, ultimatively, Rabban gave in to his desire.

Your husband's lips crashed over yours, surprisingly gentle yet still demanding as you got trapped in a firm embrace. He moaned - no, whined against your mouth, practically devouring you with this desperate kiss.

His hand ran through your hair, across your cheek to the back of your neck and down your collarbone - pushing you away just when you were about to reciprocate.

The Beast looked devastated, shocked with himself as he stumbled back, looking at you like you were the most dangerous enemy he's ever encountered.

"We'll find a solution" he stammers, already heading for the door. "I'll protect you, I promise by the little honor I have."

What were you even supposed to do, think, feel after this surreal encounter?!

Another one had to take your place tonight - but this time the outcome would be different.

After all, your taste was still lingering on his lips, how he could feel the need between your legs and the way your body melted against his was driving him crazy.

As usual he is overcome with dire ideas as he wallows in the memory of you. How he wants to ruin you, make you beg and moan and cry his name, marked by his blade for everyone to see who you belong to.

In the end however, he comes undone to the mental image of you smiling at him - even though knowing it could never be honest.

"Get the fuck out of my sight." The slave didn't need to be told twice, wouldn't even try to get dressed as she ran for dear life.

Rabban buried his face into his hands, letting out a gutwrenching roar before his fist tore a hole in the next best wall.

Because the true reason he keeps denying you was not because he was afraid for your safety, no - it was because he knew as soon as he'd give himself up to you, it'd mean his imminent defeat.

But his walls were already crumbling, no matter how much he tried to keep it together...

...and as he watches the other woman flee instead of lying dead to his feet, he realizes it's already too late - he was past the point of no return.

[Next Chapter]

[go-to-two]

I know no one wants to say anything negative but as a fan of upstead as well as Jay and Hailey separately that interview with Gwen and Tracy is awful on all sides. i thought maybe Tracy was secretly hating all this, her character's unnecessary misery, her onscreen husband’s character assassination, Hailey and Voight’s father/daughter storyline. But she’s not, she’s happy with the ending and has had talks with Gwen about her season arc (probably even could have had input on her ending because she does seem to be Gwen’s favorite) and she was fully on board. This will be the thing that gets me to move on the most because if she thinks that’s a good ending for fans of her character then we really never had a shot.

My genuine recommendation is to not read actors interviews in cases like this. Truly. It seems counterintuitive, but you'll never get the full story without some kind of spin on the truth that puts everything in the best light.

Very, very few actors are going to come out and trash their shows, no matter how they feel about them. Honestly, Jesse was as close as I expected either of them to come in doing so, and you have to read the subtext of what he's actually saying (in his interview, not Twitter 😂).

I have my own feelings about her actions and how I think she feels about it all, but that's my interpretation. All I can say is that it doesn't come from a highly vetted, glossy post-episode interview.

[wsdanon]

hi \o/ i mentioned a while ago i was likely going to be posting more wips here--especially if i'm going a while without posting actual fics. this one is a fuga four pirate au \o/

like with the vampire au, i have some information surrounding what is actually written here (backstory + future plot), but i'm unlikely to continue writing it right now due to having other multi-chaptered fics to focus on. anything else at the moment will likely be wip snippets like this one

it's 3k words, but it cuts off pretty abruptly. reblogs appreciated \o/

Honestly, this isn’t Pac’s worst day. It’s pretty up there, but going to jail and losing his leg manages to beat it out. 

After all, this is just a local jail. More of a holding cell than anything. For petty crimes or executions. Pac, luckily, is in for the former. Unluckily for him, he’s separated from Mike and hasn’t been able to breathe properly since they threw him in here. 

He’ll be spending a week in here, or until bail. 

It’s only been a day. And excuse him for being dramatic, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it. 

He can imagine Mike is probably weighing up the pros and cons of staging a breakout. After all, it’s only a week. Breaking out might just put an unnecessary target on their backs, and they’ll have to move towns again. 

Logically, he gets that. 

In reality he’s in the corner of the cell with his knees hugged tight to his chest. The cell is big enough that from here he can’t see the guard—which is both a blessing and a curse. 

He’s fine being alone. But being separated from Mike makes his skin itch. He’s almost desperate for any kind of company, even if it’s just some bored guard not paying attention to him. 

And then—like his prayers are answered—he hears two sets of footsteps, and the cell door unlocking. He looks up to see a man being shoved—stumbling, but not falling—and the door being slammed shut again behind him. 

“Well…” The man shrugs, and sighs, and turns to inspect his new quarters. His eyes catch on Pac’s. A pretty smile crosses his face. “Oh! Hi!”

“Uh… hi.” Pac uncurls himself from his corner, and gets to his feet. “Nice to meet you?”

“Nice to meet you!” He sticks out his hand for Pac to shake. Pac’s eyes catch on the pirate branding on his wrist. “I’m Captain Felps. To some.”

“To some?”

Felps makes a hesitant noise before admitting, “Felps who crashed the boat to others.” 

Pac laughs, and shakes his hand. He should really be more hesitant—it’s always a gamble with pirates. Him and Mike have run into plenty who were perfectly honourable, and plenty who they’d happily watch hang. 

This pirate, though, seems like the former. If Pac is a good judge of character, which he’s often told he isn’t. 

“I’m Pac.” 

“What are you in for?” 

Felps takes a seat on one of the beds, and Pac takes the one opposite him. 

“Stealing.” Then he rolls his eyes. “Allegedly.”

He did, in fact, steal. He stole a lot more than they charged him for, actually. But they’ll never get him to admit it out loud. 

“Allegedly?” Felps raises his eyebrows. “How long will I have your company for then?” 

“Uh… six days now?” Pac looks out the tiny barred window—night has fallen—and nods to himself. “Yeah, six days. Well, and tonight.”

“Nice, nice.” His eyes dart out to where Pac assumes he might be able to see the guard, and sighs. “Longer than I’ll have to live, apparently.”

“Oh.” Pac shifts, uncomfortable. He’s interacted with plenty of people on death row before, but he never knows how to react. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s for piracy.” Felps admits. Then, he gestures to Pac. “Allegedly.”

“Allegedly.” Pac echoes back with a slight laugh. 

The conversation between them dwindles. Pac is just starting to consider lying down and trying to get some sleep, when Felps stands up on the bed and looks out the window. 

“Hello?” He calls lowly, and Pac wonders what the hell his game plan is. A quick look at the guard shows he’s unbothered. Although, admittedly, he’s probably used to desperate pleas for help. “Anyone? Cellbit?” 

Pac’s heart freezes in his chest. 

Surely he can’t mean… Cell, right? They left Cell for dead. And Felps doesn’t seem like the kind of man to get along with him. He’s nice, for starters. 

Ignoring that Pac also thought Cell was nice at first. 

No. It’s just a really awful coincidence because the universe likes to taunt him. Cell’s dead. Rotting somewhere on an abandoned island. 

“Anyone out there?” Felps continues.

“It’s just guards.” Pac mutters. “The window faces into the fort.”

Felps looks back at the guard. Then he jumps off the bed, and crowds in close to Pac. His eyes search Pac’s face. Pac feels his cheeks grow warm. 

“Do you know how to get out of here?” He asks in a whisper. 

“No, sorry.” Pac shakes his head. “I just had a lot of free time today.”

“Damn…” 

Felps goes to move back, but Pac gestures for him to stay close. 

“Do you think your crew will try to help you?” He whispers. 

“I’m not going to count on it.” Felps says without even stopping to think about it. 

And then he’s up by the window again, calling out for… anyone, it seems. Pac lies down on his bed. At least he didn’t expect to get much sleep, anyway. 

“Hello? Anyone out there?” 

Pac wonders how he got into this situation. He didn’t respond with an outright no, so it probably wasn’t his crew betraying him. 

“Cellbit?”

It could’ve been a single member of his crew, though. A first mate, perhaps, looking to become captain. If Cellbit really is somehow Cell, Pac wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Anyone? Hello?”

Or maybe he was just unlucky. In the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“Cucurucho?”

That causes Pac to sit up. 

“Wait, wait, why are you calling for him?” 

Felps looks down at him, something unreadable on his face. Then he shrugs. 

“Why not?” 

Pac can think of a hundred reasons why not, and he’s surprised a pirate can’t think of a hundred more. 

“Cucurucho?” Felps calls again, dragging the name out at the end.

Then he laughs despairingly, and rests his forehead against the bricks. 

Pac closes his eyes. As good as he is at escaping, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to help much in the amount of time Felps has likely been given. He doesn’t know enough about the fort layout, or the guards’ patrol routes. It takes time to learn all that. Especially when he’s confined to just this jail cell. And he isn’t about to risk worse punishments and further separation from Mike on a half-assed escape plan. 

The bed creaks as Felps—presumably—sits down on it. He’s muttering to himself, but it’s quiet enough that Pac can’t make out any of it. 

Pac spins attempts at comfort in his mind, trying to figure out the best one. Nothing seems adequate. All he can really offer is a distraction, so—

—There’s a commotion outside their cell. 

Pac sits up enough just in time to see someone skilfully kill the guard that was stationed down here. He’s wearing a navy officer’s uniform that’s splattered with blood. 

“Cellbit?” Felps asks, hesitantly. Like he’s not quite sure what to make of the situation. 

“Felps!” 

The man runs up to the bars into the lantern light, and Pac is seeing a ghost. 

The blood turns to ice in his veins. He presses his back to the wall behind him, and tries to make himself look small. 

Cell’s eyes haven’t caught on him yet. His entire focus is on Felps—a delighted smile on his face as he watches the pirate step closer. 

Pac’s leg aches. 

“What are you doing here?” Felps asks. 

“I’m getting you out!” Cell replies, almost offended. Then he ducks down to rifle through the belongings of the guard. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Felps echoes. He looks back at Pac. “Do you want to come with us?”

Pac’s breath is stuttering in his chest. His eyes are wide as they dart between Felps’ open expression, and a man who should be dead. 

“Got it.” Cell stands up. 

And pauses. 

“Cellbit.” Felps says his name with a tone of despair, and reaches through the bars to try and grab the keys. “Open the door.”

Cellbit dances out of the way. 

“Say you owe me one?” 

“I owe you one.” Felps responds, easier than Pac thought he would. “Let me out. Please.”

“And I can collect on it whenever?” Cell pushes. “And you’ll have to do it?”

“Well.” Felps stops grabbing for the key, and lets his arms rest loosely on the horizontal bars. “Hold on. How much is one?”

“One is one! We can discuss it later.”

“Cellbit.” Felps sighs. “Just open the door.”

“Fine.” 

He does so. Grumbling to himself a little as he tries to find the right key. 

He’s not… entirely the spitting image of Cell. His hair is longer. There’s a white streak in it. And despite just trying to bribe Felps, there’s a distinct lack of cruelty in the way he holds himself. 

That doesn’t really mean anything, though, when he nods his head in Pac’s direction, and Pac’s entire body tenses. 

“Is your friend coming?”

He hasn’t recognised Pac yet. Which Pac chalks up the shadows of the cell. But if Pac accepts, there’ll be no hiding. 

If he stays here, though, the guards could take out their frustrations over an escaped pirate on him. Besides, maybe Cell doesn’t even remember him. 

“Pac?” Felps prompts. 

And Cell’s head snaps up to look at him.

“Pac?” 

Well, there goes that hope. Lady Luck once again laughs at him from the heavens. 

“Oh, you two know each other?” 

“You could… say that.” Cell frowns, and goes back to unlocking the door. 

It swings open, and Pac is frozen. 

Felps, on the other hand, has no problem stepping out. Even when Cellbit punches his arm, he doesn’t do more than let out an ow, and rub at the spot where he was hit. 

He doesn’t seem afraid. At all. 

“What was that for?” Felps complains. 

“You’re so stupid.” Cellbit bites out. “I was worried.”

Hesitantly, Pac stands. 

He really does need to get out of here. They’ll probably charge him with being an accomplice if he doesn’t. Cell eyes him warily as he approaches, so Pac tries to focus instead on the way Felps smiles at him. 

“It’ll be better if we stick together.” Cellbit says, and Pac can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on him. “Let’s go.” 

They have to follow Cellbit to get out. Pac makes a point of keeping Felps between them at all times, but that’s a false comfort. If Cell really wanted to kill him, Pac doubts Felps would intervene. 

Because Felps may be nice, but he’s a pirate. And he’s a pirate who’s friends with Cell.

Man, he really is a bad judge of character.

The alarms start ringing about halfway through their escape. Cellbit curses, and twists abruptly to take them down a different pathway. 

This one is narrower. They run through one at a time—Cellbit in the lead, dragging Felps by the hand behind him, and Pac taking up the rear. 

He wishes he’d thought to pick up the guard’s sword. Or the gun. Instead, all he can do is look behind himself as much as he can without stumbling, and hope that Cellbit will give him something to defend himself with if someone tries to follow them. 

Luckily, though, Cellbit seems to know what he’s doing. They get to a small alcove—where he’s clearly stashed some things—without much trouble. 

He quickly throws a cloak to Felps, who puts it on gratefully. Then he locks eyes with Pac. And tosses him the other. 

“I only brought two.” Cellbit explains, shouldering the bag, and getting ready to move. 

“You take it then.” Pac holds the cloak out to him. “I’m just in for thievery, I doubt they remember my face. But, uh, you—you look like you’ve been stabbed, you know? With all the blood? They might, like, ask questions.” 

Cellbit doesn’t move, staring at the material in Pac’s outstretched hand with a frown. 

“If they know my face, they’ll know yours, Cellbit.” Felps says. 

“Okay.” Cellbit trades his bag for the cloak. “Put this on, keep your head down, and be careful.”

Pac nods, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking after Cell’s fingers brushed his. He puts the bag on as Cellbit throws on the cloak. It mostly hides the bloodied navy uniform. 

“Okay,” Cellbit gestures for them to inch closer, “we just need to wait for the signal.”

“What’s the signal?” Pac asks. 

An explosion sounds in the distance. It’s too far away for even the aftershocks to hit them, but Pac still jumps. 

“That.” 

Cellbit darts off towards the fort wall, and Pac scrambles to follow him. Felps is by his side as he runs. 

Another explosion—still far away from them. Pac hears commotion in the distance. They dash up the stairs to the top of the wall just in time to hear the hasty march of soldiers below them. 

“Pac.” Cell whispers, holding a hand out. Pac tenses. “Rope.”

He stares back at Cell with wide, uncomprehending eyes. 

“What?”

“The bag. There’s rope.” 

Pac scrambles to get it out and pass it off to Cellbit. It has large knots spaced out evenly throughout it.

An explosion—even more distant this time—goes off while Cellbit secures the rope for them to climb down it. He forces Felps to go first. 

And then Pac. 

The distance really isn’t far. If Pac drops it would hurt but he’d survive. So, he tries to ignore all thoughts of Cell cutting the rope and letting him fall. Instead, he focuses on not slipping off of the hand and foot holds. 

He lands a little roughly, but Felps’ hands come up to steady him. He restrains himself from collapsing into the hold. There’ll be plenty of time to calm down from the stress of escape, and Cell later on with Mike. 

Cellbit lands with a dull thud. He leaves the rope, and leads them through the bushes, and into town. 

Once they hit the streets, Pac feels a little safer. A small crowd has formed, staring off at the fire, and smoke in the distance. It’s easy enough to sneak behind them, and once they do, it’s clear that the guards haven’t made it into town yet. 

They duck quickly through alleyways until they hit a main road again. Once there, Cellbit encourages them to slow down into a more casual gait. 

“So,” Cellbit asks, “where’s your boyfriend?”

“Mike?” 

“Yeah, Mike. I’m assuming you’ll want to go to him?”

“Yeah.” Pac shrugs. “He’s either at the store, or at the house.”

“Well, lead us there.” 

The thing is, is that Cell always had a tone about him. He had a couple of tones, actually, and all of them felt like they were sticking to you. The sickly sweet promises of safety like being covered in suffocating honey, the low threats rolling over them like waves, and the explosive anger stabbing into them like knives. 

Pac rarely walked out of an encounter without feeling like Cell’s words were clouded around him. 

This, however, was said so casually Pac doesn’t know what to think of it. It doesn’t feel like Cell’s friendly schtick. It doesn’t have the pressing weight of a threat. 

And Pac stumbles into the lead, taking them towards their shop, because it doesn’t feel like revenge. Maybe he’s naive for that. 

Cellbit and Felps bicker next to him. The words flow in one ear, and out the other. 

By the time Pac gets to the shop, he honestly can’t say whether this is a trap of some kind or not. It’s likely that Cell just wants them both in the same place so he can finish the job from all those years ago… 

…But every minute they spend walking together, Pac is sure he’s changed. He’s light as he talks with Felps. And Felps talks back without any apparent fear of angering him. If it wasn’t for his name, and his looks Pac doesn’t think he’d recognise him. 

Still, though, he hesitates in front of the door. Cell can change, but also want revenge. 

“Cute shop.” Felps comments. 

And Pac sends him a shaky smile, and a murmured, “thanks.” 

The lanterns are on inside. He’s pretty sure Mike is here. 

“Let me just…” He turns to Cellbit. “Let me just, um… explain. Before he sees you.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, sure.” 

Cellbit steps away from the doorframe and windows. Pac knocks. 

There’s a commotion inside, and then the door is swinging open. 

“Fuck, Pac, that was you?” Mike hisses, urging him inside. “I was trying to get ready to leave town just in case, but I didn’t think it was actually you.” 

“I had help.” 

Pac gestures back towards Felps, who waves. 

“Hi, I’m Felps! Nice to meet you!” 

“Uh…” Mike scans over him critically. “I’m Mike. Nice to meet you, too.”

“And that’s not all…” He trails off, and winces as Mike frowns at him.

“What?” Mike turns to continue gathering stuff into their bags. “Did something bad happen?”

“Depends. Um… you remember Cell, right?” 

“How could I forget?” Mike spits out. Then he turns back to Pac. “Wait-“

“He’s actually like, super nice now!” Pac says quickly—the words pouring from his mouth before he really thinks about them. “He helped me escape, and didn’t even threaten me once! I think he’s changed, you know?” 

“He went to therapy.” Felps adds helpfully. 

“He went to—wait,” Pac turns to Felps, “did he?” 

“Mhm!” Felps nods, an easy smile on his face. It’s… calming. A little. Makes him feel better about the fact that Mike is probably one step away from killing him himself. “I took him there.” 

“See!” Pac faces Mike again. “He went to therapy.”

Mike is staring at him, his mouth dropped open in shock. Then he groans, and drags his hands down his face. 

“Pac.” He grabs Pac’s shoulders, and shakes them. “You cannot be serious.“

“I am.” Pac confirms, guilt swirling in his stomach. “He’s actually, like, right outside. Sorry.”

--

sorry… that confrontation was going to take some brain power to write, but it's been months and i still haven't written it so i don't think i'll get there any time soon. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway though \o/

(also: felps and cellbit's conversation about felps owing cellbit one if cellbit lets him out was taken from their federation escape stream because i love it)

[lord-aldhelm]

The Future of this Blog

In light of recent developments, I felt compelled to write this post. As this is something that actually affects me directly and personally, I felt the need to discuss it. You all can agree with me or disagree with me; this is my own opinion and decision.

It is my personal and biased opinion that actors, celebrities, and entertainers should steer clear of fandom spaces online. Them infiltrating these spaces is problematic in many ways, but first and foremost it creates unnecessary tension and anxiety, both for the fans and for the actor. When you know for certain that the actor is watching everything you do, you no longer have a safe space in which to express yourself freely and without shame. Fandom spaces can be toxic enough as it is, without also fearing upsetting or disturbing the very actors whose work you are discussing.

Unless the actors in question get "really cool about a lot of things really fast" it will always backfire. I know there are some celebrity accounts right here on Tumblr, and they have had varying levels of success. I also know that Jeppe is a frequent flyer on The Last Kingdom subreddit and to my knowledge he is very respectful of the fans there and has not caused any problems. But that is the exception, not the rule.

I will say that I have done a piss poor job of keeping my fandom and my personal and professional stuff separated. (Apparently I like to shit where I eat, lol.) That is my own fault really. But mostly I don't really care if anyone knows who I really am, because everything in my life bleeds together. I am not beholden to anyone besides myself, so no one will care what kind of weird stuff I am into. Other people have their reasons for staying anonymous and keeping their personal stuff strictly separated from their fandom stuff and that is understandable and respected.

We all know, as bloggers, that the stuff we post in here is public. There is no illusion of privacy here. Even if you have your blog settings set up so that it does not appear in Google search, or excluded from Tumblr search, or that only logged in accounts can view your profile, people can and will find your blog and view it. My blogs all are fully public, viewable by anyone, and included in both searches. I also have no illusion of privacy. However, I think there is an unspoken understanding that your blog is your "safe space", and should be respected as such. Just like the various fanfic sites are also safe spaces (but also public) where you can create freely and openly.

There is a saying "Don't post anything online you would not want your mother/daughter/etc to see". And that is probably true on Facebook or Instagram, where you family is probably already following you and will see what you post. Here the rules don't apply. If everyone here only posted stuff that was uncontroversial, tame, watered down, and sterile, this place would be boring as hell. This *is* the gay autism site after all. There are a lot of daydreaming artistic types who feel this is the only place where they are truly free to be themselves. To share their experiences and write about things that are dear to them, whether that is identifying mushroom species or writing deranged smut. (no judgement lmao)

With all of this being said, I will make it very clear that I WILL NOT be shutting this blog down!! I am not ashamed of anything that I have posted or will post in the future. I will NOT be censoring myself, and I WILL NOT be made to feel guilty about ANYTHING I say on here. I am generally very respectful and honestly mostly pretty tame (especially compared to some of y'all) but even if I have an unhinged rant or semi-feral moment in the tags I do not want to feel like I have to "dial it down" just because "someone" might see it and judge me.

I am not actively seeking to broadcast and get unwanted attention on this blog. But in the same token I will not try to hide anything.

This blog is MY SAFE SPACE. It is my home. I will continue to draw my beautiful artwork, write my little stories, share my thoughts and feelings, post my memes and edits, and interact with my mutuals and friends on here because it brings me great joy and NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE will take this away from me!!

This fandom has brought me a lot of joy and opened me up to new experiences, allowed me to be myself and connected me with some amazing people from all over the world. It has become a very important part of my daily life, and enriched me in ways I never could have imagined. I never want to feel like I have to go back to hiding away parts of myself out of fear or humiliation.

I am so damn tired of feeling like an outcast. I have finally found a place where I feel like I somewhat belong and I will not be chased out.

/rant

[tootalltech]

tbb s3 review

okay. now that i've gotten a full nine hours of sleep and am probably a bit more coherent, i'm going to give a post summarizing all my final thoughts on season 3 of the bad batch. bc while i am annoyed about the way things were handled with tech, there were absolutely parts of the season i enjoyed as well.

i LOVE royce hemlock as an antagonist and i have since he first appeared. this season continued to show just how far he's willing to go and how completely removed from any empathy or compassion he really is- all hidden behind a cold, calm, scientific front. he ties very nicely into the overarching theme of dehumanization in this show, whether with the clones or the force-sensitive kids he captured. all in all, he's very evil and very cool and i didn't dislike anything they did with him. not even his death (bc get fucked poison boy and also he died about the same way tech did which was very much deserved). 10/10 no notes.

on the subject of tech's death though. it was very frustrating to me that they didn't show crosshair finding out. i feel like it's still very unclear when he even did; i was questioning if he knew or not by maybe the 3rd or 4th episode based off the exchange between him and omega about tech having her memorize all the plans. crosshair discovering he's dead could have been a good moment between him and omega, it could have been a good moment where we get to see just how much he misses his brothers and feels bad about everything if he somehow finds out alone while still imprisoned at tantiss, it could have been a good moment between him and HUNTER if it was discovered before they worked things out a bit more and it would have been a bigger catalyst for their fighting in "the return", etc etc etc. i don't think there was any good reason to just have crosshair find out at some point offscreen. that is his brother.

i thought the cameos from characters we've seen in earlier seasons were generally cool. fennec shand showing up pretty much made sense seeing as the batch already kinda knew of her so i thought that one was fun. cad bane seemed a LITTLE unnecessary (like it could've been another bounty hunter and nothing would have changed) but i didn't hate it. ventress was cool i'm glad omega has a new lesbian aunt and i thought it was funny when the batch decided they were gonna try and fight her because that was SO OBVIOUSLY not going to end well for them.

and then doing a separate thing for other clones bc thats really its own category. i loved seeing howzer again i missed howzer <3 rex is always a winner. wolffe's thing was cool although i feel like he's going to die now? like. if anyone ever found out that he just let them go. yk? and then we got to see gregor for like .2 seconds but whatever. in true tbb fashion the only other named reg clones on the batch's side that we met died or were never seen again within 1-2 episodes. which is fine. it is called the bad batch. no matter how much it functions more as a tcw sequel show...

speaking of the tbb/tcw world though. echo. is just. i don't understand why they make the choices they make with him. him helping rex makes sense, but he also has a good dynamic with the bad batch (especially tech honestly) and he's a part of their squad? like. this is really more of a renewed complaint from season 2 because it continued into this season but. why have him join clone force 99 if he's then going to leave again and just kind of exist in the background occasionally halfway through the clone force 99 show? i wish we saw more of him in season 3. especially after they lost tech, i feel like there was a way writing-wise to have him be with them more. if some corny "we need to stick together" shit is what it takes then so be it. BECAUSE THEY DO.

i'll go back to antagonists now. I LOVED THE ENTIRE PLOT LINE WITH RAMPART. for one thing, the beard looked GOOD on him. he was a dramatic bitch the entire time he was with the batch and his dynamic with them was hilarious. like hemlock, he died in a very deserved way, although i did see someone else say that his death didn't really make sense and i'm... inclined to agree. like, nala se isn't ever going to be redeemed in many fans' eyes and i don't think what they did with her in the finale was going to cut it. and rampart. GET OUT OF THERE DUDE. why would he be so interested in that data all of a sudden? especially given that he famously DOES NOT LIKE CLONES. why would he care? i know he wanted to bargain with the empire, but come on, that would never work and was a pretty stupid idea. it really did just seem like a moderately lazy way to try and show nala se doing something good while killing a villain in the process. i have no qualms with rampart dying, but why not have him die as a result of like. refusing to side with the clones or something? that would make more sense than him making a really dumb decision when he's supposed to be a smart guy. he didn't make it to vice admiral on looks alone remember!

and now for the cx-2/tech rant. i might make this into its own post, but for now what i'll say is that it simply would've made so much sense to have that goddamn operative clone be tech. we never saw his body. hemlock literally taunted the batch about this, which is SO something he would do if he HAD TECH. hemlock had a very hard-to-kick habit of doing weird science fuckery which would ABSOLUTELY lead to him trying to make tech into one of his operatives if he had him. we already know that the clones he tried to condition into being his operatives with this deep-cover program did not have to be willing to do it at all, because he tried it with crosshair. and we know that if the conditioning took, the clones would "come out different", so it would make PERFECT sense for tech to BE CX-2 and have no qualms whatsoever about hurting his old squad and a kind of different voice. like, look what happened to crosshair's hand. there are clearly physical side effects, and the process didn't even work on him. there were also tons of similarities between tech and cx-2 in my opinion, and all in all it just would've been a good choice narratively. he even could've stayed dead! like i said. i'll make a separate post.

finally, i feel like i should devote some rambling to tantiss, crosshair, hunter, wrecker, and omega. in the same way that i liked hemlock, i thought most of the choices with tantiss and the connections to omega were very cool this season. i think they handled crosshair coming back decently although it could've been a little more fleshed out. i liked that crosshair immediately became omega's fifth dad. i liked batcher! and omega's doll going to eva! all the force-sensitive kids were really cute and i liked them. emerie karr was like. alright i guess? i didn't find myself ever really caring about her a bunch but her story still made sense. and onto the male clones, i do feel like narratively they haven't really known what to do with wrecker for a while besides have him like. blow things up. which is unfortunate because i really enjoy him. then again it's just also not always an incredibly deep show and they are all clones who don't know how to talk about their feelings which i've been saying for a while now <3. i liked hunter going back to defending crosshair in "infiltration" and wrecker's "just like old times!" callback in the same episode. and i REALLY like omega becoming a rebel pilot, i think that makes a lot of sense for her and it also is, of course, sweet because tech taught her how to fly and all that. and finally, the scene with older hunter and omega itself was nice although i think they could've had crosshair, wrecker, and echo there. we all know hunter is the main dad, but he's not the ONLY one and the others are also very important. but oh well...

in conclusion. i do still absolutely adore this show and all of these characters. season 3 did not give me everything i wanted but it wasn't necessarily bad either. and i have to acknowledge that i am very biased and never going to get over them killing off tech so i mostly just can't think about that and have to live in denial. but anyway. season 3 was a mostly solid end to a show that started off so strongly i made a tumblr for it, and i will always love the bad batch for being my first ever hyperfixation and the show that really got me back into star wars <3

[bluepeachstudios]

GitS Asks!

Not as much as he does the boys. April's pretty good about having her own fun, she's got a family to go back to, she can separate herself when she needs to. She can handle herself!

Noted 👀 Though I don't read fanfic very often because I'm. Usually too busy writing it. fhgdkjgf I'm already behind on stuff I want to read. I will put it on my List.

Leo's least favorite is math, he finds it boring as all hell. Raph's least favorite is chemistry. He cannot get any of it right for the life of him. He accidentally made mustard gas once and from then on Donnie was paired with him to make sure that didn't happen again. Mikey's is history! He has a hard time just sitting still and listening. Donnie's least favorite is the mystic arts. He thinks it's unnecessary for him, because he doesn't have a mystic weapon.

Ghost just tells them he's going to teach them something today and they pretty much all show up. If they miss a day, he doesn't scold them about it or anything, he just lets them miss it. If they don't understand something because of it later, he can just teach it to them again. Normally they don't miss more than a day at a time, and if they do there's usually something else going on. Ghost is homeschooling them, and it's not like they're going to college. The point is learning, not to make them suffer when they don't feel like it. ;)

Splinter was giving the boys an education! He taught them colors, and alphabets, and how to read, how to clean, how to take care of themselves. Splinter taught them a lot, and Ghost knows that. He's not mad for Splinter focusing on the more practical things and less on the academic side.

Oh yeah he's gonna flip y'all.

"Who?"

Spoilers! Though I am now thinking of that 03 episode during fast forward where they go to the gala and Donnie is wearing a purple suit. Thank you.

Ghost is still kinda active with the homeless community. He doesn't talk to them, or really show himself at all, but he drops off blankets and clothes he finds when scavenging.

Ghost doesn't know about Don stealing from ATMs at the moment! He won't mind it, though. He's not hurting anyone but big banks by doing it.

Oh you think Ghost's self-blame and self-hatred is bad now? NOTHING compared to what it would be if he'd fallen into Rise after experiencing SAINW. He knows what's going to happen to his brothers. He knows he disappeared, and that the world ended because of it. He'd work a lot harder. I don't think he'd pay any attention to the kids, honestly, I think he'd be neck-deep in making a portal, trying everything, retrying it.

Ghost has accepted that he's stuck in his dimension. Donatello would not.

The TECH! It's so much easier to get high-grade metal and supplies in Rise! He can get SO MUCH SHIT! No wonder Donnie can build things so nicely, people dump out nice stuff!

Welcome to ow, I'll be your host-

Spppoiiilerrsssss? I think? Probably???

It does! There was a poll quite a ways back that even asked if Ghost ends up with Leo or with the other boys. He's in Tahiti. ;)

Phantom is far less scarred than Ell. He still has the leather jacket because I feel like he deserves a leather jacket. Ghost doesn't have the scar over his eye because of Phantom. When Ghost disappeared to the Battle Nexus to try and find answers, Phantom immediately started looking for him. Ghost had only meant to go for a day, but was trapped by Big Mama and forced to fight. Phantom found him and pulled him out of there before he ever got the scar.

Some things are universal constants :)

Whether they survive it or not is different.

Oh 03 Donatello is completely destroyed. He blames himself entirely. He works all the time to get his lost brother back. Ell and Spirit don't blame Donny, but Mike does a bit. It's easier to be mad at someone than the universe.

w... what about it....

Bold of you to assume that Ghost isn't going to break that curse

Rise boys are starting to realize their mentor isn't invincible and immortal. Terrifying thing to learn.

Thank you!! Glad you like it!