#how much longer do i have to live like this i hate it i hate it i hate it

[lechrts]

Sweet Tea. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: When Lando tries to find forgiveness after an argument through acts of service.

Word Count: 1.3k

Disclaimer/s: established rel, fluff, kinda angst…. ish.

Vera’s Voice! Hi. this was fun to write :3 hope u enjoy mama ^_^ the lando oneshot grind doesn’t stop.

The hum of the heating system filled the stillness of the apartment. It wasn’t exactly peaceful—more like tense, suffocating, and heavy.

You sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, your phone glowing faintly in your hands. You scrolled aimlessly, not really reading anything, but it was better than thinking about the argument that had left you and Lando in this standoff.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him pacing between the living room and the kitchen. He wasn’t saying anything—he hadn’t since you’d gone quiet—but his restless movements said enough.

He hated silence, especially when it was because of you.

The fight hadn’t started as anything serious, just a playful back-and-forth after a long day. But his teasing had crossed a line without him realizing it, and you’d snapped.

“You don’t need to be so dramatic about everything,” He said, half-laughing, when you’d voiced your frustrations about something that had been bothering you for days.

The words had stung, lodging themselves deep in your chest. You didn’t know if it was the dismissive tone, the laughter, or just the stress of the week catching up to you, but you’d shut down completely after that.

No sarcastic comeback, no explanation, just cold, steely silence.

And Lando?

He hadn’t done much to help himself. Instead of apologizing, he’d groaned, muttering, “Oh, come on, don’t do this,” as if your feelings were an inconvenience to him.

That was what had really sealed it.

So now you were here, refusing to meet his eyes, letting the silence stretch longer and longer.

From the kitchen came the faint clink of dishes. You glanced up briefly, noticing Lando hunched over the counter, his brows furrowed in concentration.

He was making something.

But what?

You couldn’t quite tell.

You wanted to stay mad—wanted him to feel the weight of how much his words had hurt—but curiosity gnawed at you.

Lando wasn’t exactly a chef, and him fumbling around in the kitchen was unusual.

A few minutes later, his footsteps padded softly toward you. He stopped just in front of the couch, hesitating before placing a small plate on the coffee table.

Beside it, a steaming mug of tea.

You looked down, your stomach tightening at the sight. It was your favorite treat, carefully prepared just the way you liked it.

The tea even seemed to have the right amount of honey—he must’ve measured it out because he always teased you for how sweet you liked it.

“Here,” Hr said quietly, his voice almost timid. “I, uh… I thought you might be hungry.”

You stared at the plate for a moment, then looked up at him. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” He added quickly, before you could say anything. “I was a complete ass earlier. I didn’t mean to brush you off like that—I wasn’t thinking.”

You didn’t say anything, though the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Instead, you reached for the mug, cradling it in your hands.

Lando shifted awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or give you space.

After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially when it’s my fault. I know I messed up, but I hate this—” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, “—this cold shoulder thing. Can we please talk?”

You finally set the mug back down, fixing him with a pointed look. “Talk? Like how we talked earlier and you laughed at me?”

He winced, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I thought I was being funny, but I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how much it was bothering you. That’s on me.”

“You made me feel stupid for being upset,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Like I was overreacting.”

His expression softened, and he dropped onto the couch beside you, careful to keep some space between you. “You weren’t overreacting,” He said, his voice low. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I was just being an idiot. You know I’m terrible at serious conversations.”

“That’s not an excuse, Lando.”

“I know,” He said quickly. “I know. I’m not trying to make excuses. I just… I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve listened instead of brushing you off.”

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. Part of you wanted to hold onto the anger, to make him sweat a little longer, but the vulnerability in his voice was breaking down your walls.

Lando reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your knee. “I’ll do better,” he sighed, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to make you feel like that again.”

You glanced at him, taking in the way his brows were knit together, the way his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked genuinely remorseful, and your heart softened despite yourself.

“I just want you to take me seriously,” You said quietly.

“I will,” he promised, his hand gently resting on your knee now. “I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, finally, you let out a small sigh. “Okay.”

His head shot up, hope sparking in his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly. “Noted.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away when he shifted closer, his hand sliding up to your cheek. “I’m sorry again.” He muttered as he shifted even closer.

You didn’t answer, but the way you leaned into him was all the permission he needed. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, then firmer as you kissed him back.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you still mad at me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “When am I never mad at you.” Rolling your eyes as you slightly joked. “But, seriously. I am still a little mad.”

He grinned, pressing another quick kiss to your temple before pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ll take what I can get,” he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

As you leaned into his embrace, the weight of the argument melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love—and the promise to do better.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated!!! ^_^ follow me for more & ask if you’d like to be apart of my tag list!!!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[insomniadreamzz]

Hiiiii! Could you write G!P councilor Sevika x fem reader? Where Sevika comes home to her wife after a council meeting and she is frustrated so reader offers to help her with it and Sevika has her way with reader? Resulting in her getting pregnant.

Thank youuuuu xoxo

Alrightyyy!~ Another G!P Fic

This time Sevika x Fem!Reader

Mentions of G!P, pregnancy, smut

———

You are my world

Sevika just arrived home after the council meeting, not looking very amused as she stomped into the kitchen, making herself a drink and heading to the living room, sitting down on the sofa before taking a sip from her drink and putting the glass down, letting out a annoyed groan.

You heard her being finally home again as you just got out the shower, feeling so happy to see your wife being back home again. „Hey! You’re finally back.“ You cheered happily, walking towards her but her expression made you frown as you sat beside her. „Is something wrong?“ You asked with a tilted head, making her sigh before she answered. „Being a Zauntie member in the council is just frustrating. They don’t really trust me, I get weird looks and-…ugh.“ Sevika groaned, rubbing her face with her hand, you hated seeing her frustrated like that.

„Sevika…give them time. You are the most loyal and kind Zauntie I ever met. You have a heart of gold and they will notice it sooner or later.“ You tried to calm her down, your hand gently caressing her muscular arm, finally she looked at you with a more softer expression and a little smile. „I just know why I made you my wife…you are just so good to me. You don’t know how much you mean to me.“ Sevika responded and you smile brightly before leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. The kiss got returned by her, ending up into a deep and passionate kiss, she really loved you and you loved her.

You soon pull back, both of you catching your breath before you got an idea to make her relax. „You know I do have a idea to get your frustration off…if you like to.“ You said with a teasing voice and Sevika got the message quickly, how could she deny you? She simply couldn’t. „Oh baby I would love that.“ She said with the same lustful voice before picking you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

You moaned softly as Sevika put kisses on your neck, you laying underneath her, being fully exposed to her, you just loved how much affection she shows you, loving and cherishing every inch of your body as she worked her way down to your chest, leaving marks all over your chest and neck so everyone knows you belong to her. She was also fully exposed, her cock rubbing against your wet folds. Your hands are placed on her strong shoulders, whining softly when she started to play with your nipples, arching your back. „Ughh…stop teasing…“ You mumble and she looked up at you with a lustful gaze. „Impatient?“

You just let out a little grunt in response. „Fine fine. I won‘t let my wife wait for longer, after all I am still frustrated and I want to get it all off of me.“ She leaned up as she adjusted herself between your legs, your gaze fixed on her beautiful strong body, your hand moving down along her muscles on her stomach before you let out a moan once she slid inside of you.

„Fuck!…“ You moan out, hands trying to find something to hold onto and they found your pillow, grabbing it tightly as you let Sevika thrust into you. Her size was just perfect for you, filling you completely up and stretching you so good, the first thrusts making you already go crazy. When her hands held your hips you felt a shiver go down your spine because of the feeling of her metal hand on your soft and warm skin. You bit on your lip, trying to hold back your moans.

„Oh no I want to hear those. Don’t you dare holding back.“ She grunted, thrusting harder inside of you and with every thrust, feeling her rubbing your insides and hitting your sweet spot, you moaned louder. „A-Ah! Yes! Yes right there!“ You moaned out, not feeling embarrassed anymore about your lewd moans as the pleasure was taking over, your legs squeezing around Sevika’s hips.

„Damn…that’s right. Give me those sweet sounds of yours.“ Now she was moaning too at the good feeling, filling up the room with lewd sounds of your moaning, whining and the sounds of yours bodies clapping together. You felt close but you didn’t even think about wanting her to stop and pull out like usually.

„C-cum inside me. Please do.“ You begged her and that made Sevika‘s expression softer. „You sure??“ She asked in between her gasps and moans and you nod at her. „Yes. Yes please do. I want it. I want it with you.“ You whined, feeling your orgasm getting closer and your words made her feel even more aroused, Sevika‘s hips now moving almost automatically as she literally rammed her cock inside of you. Making you moan even more lewdly and making you roll your eyes back as you felt a wave of electric shocks through your body, legs shaking as they clenched around her hips. The feeling of your pussy clenching around her cock made her reach her orgasm too, making Sevika moan out and groan as she granted your wish, not pulling out as she came inside of you, filling you with her cum. „Oh fuck! I am cumming“ She moaned out, cock twitching inside of you as she let it all go inside of you, making you feel all warm. She kept on thrusting slowly until she pulled out, watching a little bit of cum getting out of you, she really filled you up with a lot of cum.

After both of you reached your orgasms and calmed down, Sevika laying beside you in bed as she caressed your hair with her human hand. Slowly realising what you just did. „We…are going to be parents.“ She said with a soft whisper and you moved your gaze up to look into your wife’s eyes with a soft and happy eyes. „Yes. That’s all I want. Because you are my world.“ She smiles and you could see her eyes being teary, you didn’t see her being emotional that often but you loved it every time you saw her being soft with you and before she could say anything, she kissed you deeply and passionately. Sometimes actions are more than words and you both were happy to become parents.

[blitzwhore]

Stolas just standing there and letting blitz hug him in the end is all good, right? He is just sad because of octavia and accepting that blitz is there with him right?? It's not that he regrets chosing him, right??? (I just need affirmation)

You know what? I've found myself needing reassurance about this too. So let's take a moment to look at the facts together, shall we?

(This reply turned out way longer than I expected it to 😅 sorry!)

Fact #1 - Stolas is still coming to terms with the consequences of his actions. He spends the whole episode finding out just how much his life has changed. Learning how to navigate groceries, and laundry, and meals, and having a job, and worrying about money.

Mid-episode, he has a breakdown where he truly questions if everything he gave up was worth it just for a fantasy. At this point in the episode, he still hasn't realised how much he means to Blitz. As far as he's concerned, he did all of this for someone who doesn't reciprocate his feelings. But by the end of the episode, though, his feelings have settled enough to understand and express what he has known to be true all along: that saving Blitz was the right thing to do.

What Stolas regrets isn't saving Blitz's life, or even loving Blitz in the first place.

What he regrets are the choices he made that led them to this. He feels guilty for selfishly (or, rather, naively) playing out his fantasies. He's the one who established the deal, who let Blitz illegally use the book for many months, who wasn't always sensible about how he expressed his love for Blitz publicly and despite being married, and who allowed himself to ignore the reality of his situation so he could live in his own, personal romcom—all of which ultimately led to the events of Mastermind and the loss of Via.

And all the guilt and regret he's grappling with (however justified it might be) is exacerbated by fact #2, which is:

Fact #2 - Stolas is off his medication. He's been off it for a month now. Symptoms of depression (especially untreated depression) include mood swings, irritability, self-hatred and low self-esteem, passive/active suicidal ideation, pessimism and hopelessness about the future, catastrophising, black-and-white thinking, and anhedonia (inability to feel pleasure and to find joy in things—and people—who used to bring you it). All symptoms Stolas exhibits throughout this episode.

So, even if he shows a lack of emotion toward Blitz at times, or irritation to seemingly minor things like low doors or "secretating" or Karen's behaviour, even if he acts regretful and angry and desolate... a lot of these emotions and behaviours are a result of his depression, and not of actually hating the life he chose.

Fact #3 - Stolas loves Blitz. He always has, and always will. I could point at a thousand different moments in the show when Stolas' love for Blitz has transpired, but I'm going to leave it at his line from Mastermind: "I would rather be dead than live life without you by my side."

Even after everything they've gone through, even now that he's taken Blitz off his pedestal and can acknowledge that Blitz can be a fucking idiot... Stolas simply does not want to live a life without Blitz. It has always been Blitz. It will always be Blitz.

Stolas loves Blitz.

Fact #4 - Stolas kissed Blitz. Before he truly hits rock bottom as a result of Octavia cutting him out, Stolas is so ecstatic that Blitz cares, that Blitz was willing to go to such lengths to save his life, that he can't hold back the need to kiss Blitz mid-air. Suddenly, none of his earlier frustration matters. Nothing matters expect for how elated he is that Blitz loves him back. So he smiles and he pulls Blitz into a kiss because he can't bear not to kiss Blitz for a moment longer.

Look at this man. Look at how happy he is. Because it's always been Blitz, and maybe it was a fantasy for a long time, but it doesn't have to be anymore. Maybe this can be real now. He's so happy he (and I) could cry.

Fact #5 - Stolas didn't deny loving Blitz. When Via said "You don't love me, you love him," the script very purposefully did not have Stolas go "no, no, Via, that's not true—" or say anything else that might make Blitz doubt, even for a moment, that Stolas loves him. Because that much is true. He does love Blitz. He just also loves Via. Which brings me to:

Fact #6 - Blitz knows Stolas loves him. At no point throughout the episode does Blitz doubt, even for a second, that Stolas loves him. And we know this because Blitz's walls remain down at all times. If Blitz doubted he was loved, if he had even the slightest of reservations, those walls would come crawling back up whether he wanted them to or not. It's what he's been trained and conditioned to do—it's how he's kept his heart safe ever since the accident.

But now, he knows his heart is safe with Stolas. He believes it enough to not depend on his walls to feel at ease. He believes it enough to let himself take care of Stolas and be soft with Stolas without the slightest trace of hesitation.

Look at Blitz's face. This is the face of a man who knows that even if Stolas isn't okay right now, things will get better. And when they do, they'll both still be in love with each other. This is the face of a man who can't wait for something beautiful to flourish between them, but who is in no rush to get there. He knows the road ahead is hard and painful, but he has faith in Stolas. In both of them.

Fact #6 - Stolas was happy to share a private, romantic dance with Blitz. Despite everything going through his mind, he found comfort and happiness in dancing with Blitz; in getting to have this little moment with him.

He found relief in the fact that Blitz stayed with him this time, even after Stolas told him, once again, that he didn't have to stay.

His reaction to Blitz initiating a dance between them is genuine surprise, immediately followed by an enamoured little smile at the mere notion that he gets to have this, now.

And, as they dance, he keeps smiling and leaning into Blitz, going as far as to manage a deep, heartfelt laugh at Blitz's words. This, for an unmedicated, depressed person going through one of the worst days of his life, is huge in itself. It shows that, even in the worst of times, he finds undeniable comfort and happiness in Blitz.

And, after their dance, Stolas looks at Blitz with a sobriety and soft sort of realisation that shows he's finally coming to terms with the fact that this is real. After everything he's lost, after all the fantasies he hoped for for so long and believed he'd never have, he finally gets to have this.

Despite the pain he's going through, Stolas looks at Blitz and sees the man he loves.

Notice how Blitz's eyes trail down to Stolas' mouth. And Stolas realises. And doesn't move away. Waiting, expectantly, for Blitz's next move, fully expecting it to be a kiss.

But then Blitz hugs him instead, and Stolas doesn't hug back.

And it's not because he doesn't want to be hugged by Blitz. It's not because his feelings for Blitz have changed, or dimmed, or disappeared. It's not because he regrets loving Blitz, or saving him. It's not because he doesn't want to have a close, healthy, loving romantic relationship with Blitz.

It's because of facts #1 (he's grappling with so much guilt and coming to terms with the consequences of his actions) and #2 (he's experiencing symptoms of unmedicated depression). And, above all, it's because of fact #7, which is...

Fact #7 - Stolas doesn't know how to be loved. Stolas has never had support. He has never had a shoulder to cry on, or someone to hold him when he needed it. When he's feeling vulnerable and broken, he defaults to hugging himself as a way to self-soothe, because that's the only comfort he's ever known.

And because he's never known comfort from others—because it was never allowed or safe for him to need or ask for comfort from others—all Stolas knows to do with his vulnerability is hide it. So much so that, the two times we see him begin to break down in front of Blitz, he either portals Blitz away or masks his tears and pain immediately. Even as he drunkenly rambles about wanting to be held, he still makes sure not to appear like he actually needs a hug.

So when he finds himself being held by Blitz in a warm, comforting hug, Stolas doesn't know how to respond. Because he's never had this. He's never had an opportunity to learn how to exist in someone's comforting embrace, how to interact with this kind of physical contact. He still has to learn how to feel safe between arms that aren't his own.

Simply put, Stolas still doesn't know how to hold Blitz back.

That doesn't mean Stolas doesn't want or need physical comfort. He needs it desperately—everyone does. But wanting something and knowing how to actually have it are two very different things, and Blitz knows that better than anyone, because he's wanted Stolas for a very long time, but didn't, until very recently, know how to feel safe accepting Stolas' love.

And that's why Blitz is completely understanding of the fact that all Stolas can do, all Stolas has the ability to do, is stand there and let himself be held, and let his emotions go through him. In, and out, with every breath, with every second. And get slowly acquainted with what being comforted by the person he loves feels like.

Thirty-something years of trauma can't be undone in a single hug, or a single conversation, and it's going to take time for Stolas to learn how to be present while in Blitz's arms, and how to return that emotional closeness.

But Blitz has faith in him. Blitz is willing to be patient and soft with him while he gets better. Blitz is ready to meet Stolas where he's at, because he knows, beyond a trace of doubt, that they love one another, and they're going to be okay. Even if Stolas doesn't know it yet—even if we, the audience don't know it yet—Blitz knows.

And that's just going to have to be enough for now.

And because this post got completely away from me, I shall conclude by quoting their song, because it summarises their story better than I ever could:

Truer love is hard to find. ❤️

[as8bakwthesage]

How Revenge Consumed the Administrator (Part III)

Part I - Part II - Part III

Spoilers below

So, she's on death's door, she's given up all of her remaining Australium in order to watch him die. But I think it's more than just that.

She not only wants to look her best, but she also wants to look exactly how she looked like when she first met him, face to face. I think she wants him to see her, at least one more time, as she was. She wants him to see the face of the woman who ruined him.

And right as the final moment is about to arrive, Miss Pauling and the Mercs walk in. And Miss Pauling asks her one question:

The Administrator's response?

And it's fitting. She's been doing this for so long, it's consumed her every living moment. She's been alive for so long, living as a ghost of a person, all for the sole purpose of torturing someone she hates. And it was all thanks to the Australium.

I think when we saw the Administrator talking about "it" in the previous chapter, we assumed she was talking about Australium. But that isn't the case. The Australium is what allowed her to keep going for so long, it was a tool to her. There was no big world ending or world dominating plan for her. It was so personal, so intensely personal that it consumed her entirely. Until there was nothing left. The reason doesn't matter anymore.

But upon seeing Miss Pauling, The Administrator has a glimmer of hope.

There's more! Of course there's more! The Engineer had been wrong! It can continue! In her delirium, she begs Miss Pauling to tell her if she found more. Perhaps she can keep this going again! Perhaps she can extend Zepheniah Mann's suffering even longer! Perhaps- perhaps...

But Miss Pauling hesitates. She hides the Australium behind her back. She considers the woman in front of her. And I think she feels pity.

This facial expression right here. You can see Miss Pauling realising just what the Australium has turned her boss into, you can see her realising that the woman she looked up to all this time... was someone who should have been dead a century ago.

And perhaps, as a mercy, she tells the Administrator:

And you can see the exact moment the Administrator realises that it is finally over.

In disappointment? Relief? I think it might be a combination of both. But regardless, she'd make these last moments count.

She turns back to the man who destroyed her... and she laments.

She's trying to process all of her feelings, all of this time she spent doing this. She's angry, she's horrified, she's mourning. All the time lost and wasted. She could have done anything. Could have been anything. She was smart enough, and she knew this. She falls to her knees, and weeps.

But even still... she wipes her tears, and grins.

And then she proclaims:

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much time she wasted, no matter how much pain and energy she put into this... it was all she ever was. She knew this when she tried to kill herself all those years ago. She knew this the moment her parents died.

In the end? It was worth every single moment.

She takes his body down, holding it. And I genuinely believe that they are both dead here. They've been alive for so long that when the Australium is gone, they both turn to dust. Not even the bones remain. There is no way to bring them back now, and I highly doubt that either of them want to come back.

"Just you and me" until the bitter end.

~~~

The Administrator has become one of my favourite characters of all time and it is solely because of this amazing end to a comic series I have been following since I was tween. And it's solely because of just how fucking personal her motivations are. It's not grand or glorious or even anything to do with the world. She doesn't give a shit. She's not your typical villain, she's not Grey Mann.

She's caused so much pain and turmoil just because of her insatiable desire for revenge. And not just revenge, but to torment the man who ruined her life. But at the end of the day, she ruined and fulfilled her own life. And even though it was so bleak and terrible, it was her happy ending to finally die.

Just... wow. What a send-off to a character. What a brilliant fucking character. Massive props to the writers and artists for conveying such a complex yet still absolutely cruel and vicious character. It is so much better than a typical "take over the world" plot and her character is better for it.

This was the best holiday present ever.

Anyway, uh... thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed my ramblings!

[synamartia]

First of all: Vexi, you're a bigger person than me. I wouldn't have blurred the username/pfp on that last one.

Second, how the fuck is someone gonna spew all this hate, then turn right around and make a request in the same breath? Like seriously??? Make it make sense. Please.

As fanfic writers with lives outside of tumblr and limited perspective on multiple topics for whatever reason, we do our best to make sure what we write is inclusive or at least left vague enough for Reader to fill in the blanks. We do this in our free time, for free, and it is incredibly disheartening to receive or see someone else receive things like this, especially when you know it to not be true.

I understand it's upsetting when you can't find quality fics or something you've been enjoying hits you with a detail that makes it no longer entertaining. But if you don't like the direction a story is going, or a detail like skin color of ANY character in said story, just stop reading it. It's that fucking easy. Or maybe, oh, I don't know - try writing it yourself instead of harassing someone because they're not catering to your criteria for reading material? Maybe then you would understand exactly how much time and effort is put into a fic, and the hours upon days of research to make sure what we write is accurate.

Vexi is not a POC and has outright stated that she doesn't know much about the experiences of the African American community, now or in the 1930s. As a writer that strives to give everyone quality fics that are both compelling and accurate, it is well within her rights to make Reader white because one: it's what she understands; and two: it's her story, not yours. Stop harassing writers just because they don't write something specific like the POV of someone in the Black community - it's incredibly immature and uncouth, and it makes us not want to write at all. I reiterate: if you don't like it, don't read it.

I'm so sorry that you're getting these messages, Vexi, and I hope that it doesn't deter you from writing to any degree. Don't let this anon get to you, dear. You're an amazing person with a heart of gold. Every word you type is magnificent, and I look forward to reading more from you! 💖

And to the anon doing this: I know you're making your rounds of Hazbin Hotel writers, seeing as Vexi is not the first one I've seen being harassed in such a manner. Just know that I'm turning anon off for my blog, and if you or anyone else decides to hop in my inbox, I will put you on blast so that everyone knows the kind of piece of shit you are for harassing others and spewing the same kind of hate we're ALL trying to eliminate. 🖕

PSA: RACISM, BIGOTRY, ENTITLEMENT IN HAZBIN HOTEL FANDOM

CONTENT WARNING: Inflammatory hate speech, White hate, political baiting, gaslighting, racism, death threats

The messages I’ve received and am addressing below contain upsetting and harmful language that has no place in any community. If these topics are distressing to you, please prioritize your well-being and feel free to stop reading here. Thank you for taking care of yourself.

I never imagined I would find myself addressing this, but here we are. This post is regarding my recent story, Stay With Me, which has stirred up unexpected controversy due to my decision to imply the reader’s race as white. I want to clarify that this choice was made purely for plot purposes.

The story is set in 1920s Louisiana, a time and place where racial and class dynamics were deeply significant. This backdrop was essential to the narrative’s themes of tension and forbidden love, as it explores the societal barriers that would have made a relationship between Alastor and the reader virtually impossible. The decision to depict the reader as an upper-class white individual was not arbitrary—it was intentional, aimed at heightening the drama and emotional weight of their story.

I deeply value the Hazbin Hotel fandom and the x-reader community. Writing for this space has brought me immense joy, and I’ve formed wonderful connections with both readers and fellow writers. That’s why receiving such hateful and inflammatory messages has been incredibly disheartening. The accusations of racism, the vitriol, and the twisting of my creative choices into something they were never meant to be—this has shaken me more than I can express.

To the anonymous senders of these messages: I want to make it clear that my work comes from a place of love and passion. My intention has always been to tell compelling stories that explore complex emotions, societal norms, and the human condition—stories that resonate with readers on a deeper level. To reduce my work to a political agenda or an act of prejudice is deeply hurtful and entirely unfounded.

I want to echo sentiments shared by Kit (please check out her explanation here), another writer in the fandom, who also explored the racial and class dynamics between characters. Like them, I am fascinated by the tension and drama that arise from star-crossed love stories, particularly when societal laws and prejudices forbid such relationships. Writing the reader as white in this context wasn’t about excluding or favoring anyone—it was about creating an authentic narrative rooted in the realities of the era.

For those questioning why I made this choice, I ask: if you can suspend disbelief to fall in love with a cannibalistic, asexual deer demon, why is the reader’s race—chosen for specific plot reasons—the line you cannot cross? My goal as a writer is to craft stories that make sense within their own context. The entitlement to demand otherwise, or to impose personal prejudices onto my work, is unfair and unwarranted.

I hate that I’ve had to turn off anonymous asks. Some of the most heartfelt and hilarious messages I’ve received have come from anonymous users, and losing that connection with my readers pains me. But unfortunately, the actions of a loud, hateful minority have left me with no choice. I will not entertain further discourse on this matter after this post.

To those who have supported me, who have read my stories and shared kind words: thank you. Your encouragement is what keeps me going. Writing for this fandom has been a labor of love, and I pour my heart and soul into every piece I create—for free, might I add. It’s devastating to feel that love overshadowed by hostility.

I won’t let this stop me from creating, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t made me question my place here. To anyone who feels entitled to tear down what others create out of hatred or spite: I hope you take a moment to reflect on the harm your words can cause.

To my true supporters: I appreciate you more than words can express. Your kindness reminds me why I love writing in the first place. Thank you for standing by me.

[madamechrissy]

Preview for Silent Serenades

An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo - ♔Part Fourteen ♔

MDNI- Explicit sex/dirty talk/possessive Gojo- Do not read if you haven't read part Thirteen- major spoilers after the cut- we are heading to the end OMG <3 Masterlist - will be out on Christmas Eve!

“Look at me when you cum for me, Duchess. I want to see those beautiful eyes roll back in pleasure, just for me.” His voice is a low growl, a quiet demand, you struggle to focus, feeling the pressure coil in your tummy.

You lock eyes with him, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing second, the passion and the love that abounds and grows every day, somehow even the dirtiest words that spill from his mouth are sweet. Pretty little slut is sweet to your ears, the squishing of your wetness on his cock is beautiful especially when your husband looks at you like this.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave then, spreading all over your body, your cries echoing loudly while one of his hands squeezes your throat, watching you fall apart all over him. Your walls are convulsing around his cock, you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

“Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts with every thrust, releasing your throat now, you nod quickly, gasping for a greedy breath.

“Y-yours.” You whisper, he needs it, and you need this, after everything to know who you belong to, and who he belongs to.

The grip on your hips tightening, his beautiful eyes never leaving yours, when you feel him thickening, hear the catch in his breath, the crease between his brows, you know he’s close. You press his back against the velvet carriage seat, taking a breath and rocking up and down his length again, he lets you take control, watching you hungrily.

“God, fucking look at you.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, as his hands press against your stays, the fabric marking your skin, as he watches you with a lidded gaze.

“W-want you to cum for me, Toru. Please.” Your plea earns his lips slamming on yours, and he pins you down fully on his entire length, groaning into your mouth as he finds his release.

His hot spurts of cum fill you, and his throbbing cock edges you again, you’re falling with him, hopelessly into him in the little carriage, arms wrapping around your waist as he keeps pumping his cum deeper. You feel tears falling on your cheeks, legs shaking as you ride him slower and slower, as he fucks you both through the aftershocks and you’re both trembling messes.

“How are you so sexy? What you do to me?” He murmurs now, you giggle a bit, breathless, he eases out of your sore cunt, your cum and his dripping out of your little hole and onto him.

“What you do to me. Having me act so wanton and scandalous.” You tease, he chuckles a bit, sighing and cupping your face with two hands.

“Do you know what I wish, Duchess?”

“What is it, Satoru?” You both adjust yourselves somewhat, he turns you so you are sideways in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That we could redo our wedding. That I could… fix it.” You hear the emotions in his throat, you sigh, nodding then. “That you didn’t hate that night, that you weren’t crying on the fucking floor.”

“Satoru we are so far past it-”

“It does not matter, I will hate myself for it forever.”

You take his hand, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles, feeling emotions capture your heart. “We need not think on it, I do not hold any resentment any longer in my heart.”

“I want to do it over. I want a true wedding, I want a honeymoon… I want so much more for you than I gave.” You feel his heart racing under your palm as it rests on his chest over his dress shirt. You watch the man you adore have to handle what he has done, and all you can do is try to reassure him you do not hold anything against him, but he has to live with it.

“Do not endlessly punish yourself, I want us to be happy.” He exhales, shaking his head, hand stroking your back gently.

“This will help me, please agree to it.”

“Agree to what exactly, Satoru? What do you need?”

“I want to marry you because we want to, not because we were forced to, even though lord knows I couldn’t be happier I am with you. I want it for us, and us only. I want to carry you over that threshold, in my fucking arms. I want to make love to you on our wedding night, and have you fall asleep in my bed, and wake you up licking and kissing every inch.” His voice gets more hoarse with every word, and your heart is racing, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Satoru…”

“No, Princess, I need this. I need you to feel desired and loved like you were supposed to, like I should have.” He swipes tears that fall down your cheeks, you feel like you’re spinning, like you’re dizzy, like you’re in a dream.

“We have it now, I feel your love now. I feel it burning for me, as I burn for you, I feel you everywhere.” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know you do, but I need to show you what I should have given you, fuck what you deserve. You deserved to be happy that night, looking so beautiful, so hopeful just for me to crush you.” You’re sobbing now, as the pain sinks in, it’s almost as if you cannot imagine Satoru did it.

“I want to pretend it did not happen.” He shakes his head.

“It did happen, I did those things. I need to right them, to do it all over, to take you far the fuck away from here, somewhere beautiful, fuck you on every surface and feed you and pamper you. Like the Princess you are to me.” His words make you dizzy, images flitting your mind.

“You already make me feel that way, I swear you do.” You murmur, he takes your hand then, thumbing the pearls of the ring on your delicate finger.

“I want to marry you again, it can be just us two. But I want it, and I need it, to take you away and give you everything, to make it special for you. You deserve that and more. Let me show you my love, please, marry me because you want to, because I want you to. Because I love you so deeply it kills me, because I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Satoru!” You are a sobbing mess now, kissing him over and over, nodding and sniffling as he holds you to him, so tightly you cannot breathe, you’re nodding weakly, and he’s smiling against your lips then.

“Will you marry me, Duchess? Truly marry me this time?”

YEPPPP it's happening <3 This will be an emotional and beautiful chap for these two, as well as ofc the drama- we have the ball w/ King Sukuna and Adelia (this is set after the two leave the ball) There are only two parts left after this ahhhh

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this decrepit pervert is back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re restless. What’s worse, is you have no energy. You never really do. Living is the most exhausting thing you’ve ever done. 

You lean in the window sill, half hunched as you stare out at the suburban street. It’s a nice neighbourhood. Your mother lives in a condo, on one of the highest floors. You hate it. This place isn’t so bad. It’d be nice if it was just you. 

That last thought makes you sad. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to be alone. You hate being such a burden. What you hate most, is feeling like you’re on a leash. Sometimes literally as your oxygen tube keeps you bound to the tank. 

All your existence, there’s been something wrong with you. In high school, it got so much worse. You didn’t even realise until your mother pointed it out. Then the appointments doubled, the tests too, and it never stopped. Will it ever? 

You’re trapped in a holding pattern. If living is so difficult, should you even try? That’s a bad thought but you can’t help it. You see your mom, you see Andy, and they don’t need all these medicines or this thing to breathe for them. They have lived full lives, they have jobs and a home. You have nothing. 

You turn away from the window. The tall trees and peaked rooftops are no longer so beautiful. They’re just another reminder of everything you don’t and will never have. 

A knock at the door startles you. You cross the room and inch it open. You peer out, disappointed to find Andy again. How long is your mom going to sleep? 

“Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking you might want to come with me. It's pretty quiet around here,” he says. 

“Come with... where?” You rasp. 

“I was going to go to the pharmacy and get your script filled, like your mom said,” he explains and holds up the doctor’s paper. “Found it in her purse.” 

“Oh, uh...” you hesitate. You don’t know what to do. That he’s even asking makes you feel obligated. “Sure, I... okay.” 

“Take your time, I’ll warm the car up,” he assures you. “Anything I can help with?” 

“No, sir, I’ll grab my bag.” 

You shut the door before he can respond. You pause and feel bad. You hope that didn’t seem intentional. You go and grab your belt bag. You check that everything is in it, then drag your tank back to the door. 

You come out and the hall is empty. You go around to the bathroom and rinse off your face. You don’t have a toothbrush so you use your finger to spread some paste around your teeth and rinse your mouth. You’re overly aware of your day-old outfit. You do what you can for your hair then resign yourself to being the same mess you always are. 

You take the stairs slowly. One at a time as you prevent the wheels of the tank from thumping. Andy’s house is so nice, you don’t want to ruin it. You get to the front door and pull on your jacket. You put on your sneakers and awkwardly angle out the front door. 

The SUV whirs in the driveway. Before you can get to the first step, Andy is there. He helps with the tank and sets it on the flat ground. You quickly take the handle and thank him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You wish he wouldn’t be so worried. Your mother doesn’t ever ask, only if it’s for show. 

“Fine,” you assure him. 

You roll the tank past him and he calls after you as you get to the SUV. “Hey, you don’t gotta sit in the back.” 

“Uh, right,” you say. 

You go around to the passenger door and he opens it for you. Once again, he lifts the tank. Before you can react, he does the same to you. You lurch up into the seat and wriggle until he lets you go. He doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. 

You sit straight and steady the tank between your knees. He shuts the door and you get the seatbelt clicked in. As he climbs in the other side, you take out your vaseline and smear it under your nose. It’s particularly raw this morning. 

“Shoot, is that from the AC? I can turn it down.” 

“No, it’s... okay,” you stare through the windshield. You want to get this done and over with. Your brows furrow at the thought of your mom waking up to the empty house. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” you insist. 

“You look worried,” he says. 

“I... my mom. She’s in rough shape.” 

“Hungover,” he clucks, “it’s a good thing you don’t take after her with that.” 

You nod, not sure what to say. He does up his seatbelt and checks the mirrors. He shifts and backs out of the driveway. 

“Feel free to put on some music. I don’t think you want to listen to my oldies,” he chuckles. 

“It’s okay,” you hug yourself with one arm, your other hand on the tank. 

The silence buzzes in your ears. It’s too late now to change your mind. Besides, you’re so indecisive about your music. You wouldn’t exactly brag about your taste either. 

The drive stretches on as you huddle into the door, distracting yourself with the passing light poles, houses, and so on. You don’t know this area. It’s not anywhere near your usual pharmacy. You often wait in the car when you do go with your mom. 

He pulls up along the curb and park. It’s a nice quaint street in the neighbourhood. There’s a park on the corner and an organic store on the opposite side. You peek out at the local pharmacy’s moniker, hand-painted unlike glowing banner of the department store where your mom usually goes. 

“Should be able to get this filled,” he says as he shuts off the engine. 

You just nod and hum. He gets out quickly, easily. You envy that. You can’t do anything easily. He comes around as you push the door open. He once more brings down your tank but you’re certain to climb out on your own. You nearly stagger as you do. 

You wheel out of the way as he closes the door. You look around at the other pedestrians. A woman with a stroller, a family just across the way babbling in glee. You turn away before the scene can make you morose. 

Andy leads you to the pharmacy door and pulls it open with a chime. He lets you in first. There’s only a few aisles inside, the pharmacist’s counter is at the back, another till near the front where they sell chocolates and candy. 

You linger until Andy points you down the center row. You go ahead of him and stop before the long counter. He unfolds the prescription as he greats the man behind it boldly. Good mornings and niceties you struggle to get right. 

“Hm, we have these on hand but it’ll be a wait. Been a busy morning,” the pharmacist explains. 

“That’s fine, we can keep ourselves busy.” Andy says. You squirm. You can? Waiting that long will only add to the tension that makes your chest even tighter. 

You back up as he turns around. He looks around for a moment, as if he thinks you wondered off, then smiles at you. “There’s a cafe across the street, how about it?” 

“I don’t... drink coffee,” you say. 

“I know, sweetheart, I remember,” he gently strokes your shoulder, “they have tea, too. Or smoothies. You must be hungry too.” 

“I... if you want to, I guess...” you shrug. 

“You know, I’m not your mom. I won’t say no,” he intones. “You don’t have to be so nervous.” 

“I know, I... I’m sorry.” 

“And you don’t need to be sorry,” he counters. 

You almost apologise again, only to fill your cheeks with air and nod. You feel like you should be though. Like everything you do is a disappointment. 

You go back down the middle aisle. Andy reaches past you to hold the door again. You come out and narrowly avoid a collision. You wait for the family of three to pass by before Andy nudges you to the curb. He takes your free hand as he tugs you with him, jaywalking through the lazy traffic. 

The effort is enough to make your head spin. You get your wheels over the other curb and sway. Andy doesn’t let go. He takes you past the patio area of the cafe and swings back the door before he releases you, pointing you within. 

The smell of coffee, the grind of a machine, and the chatter of diners greets you. You wait behind the two teenage girls at the counter as Andy comes up next to you. He stands close but you assume it’s because it’s such a tight space. 

“Do you want to find somewhere to sit?” He wonders. 

“No, I’m okay,” you say. 

“Sure, uh, so what do you want?” 

You look up at the hand-written menu. You might get a tea after all. 

“The brioche egg sandwich is one of my favourites,” he says. 

“You come here... a lot?” You wonder. 

“Sure. I like to run in the mornings. I’ll grab a coffee on my cool down. And weekends I’ll have breakfast. Your mom’s usually still asleep if she’s around,” he tuts. 

“Right, uh... that sounds fine. Brioche.” 

The girls go to the further end of the counter and Andy waves you forward. The barista greets him by name. She’s very pretty. She has amber coloured braids with a zigzag pattern and cute freckles over her cheeks. You want to ask how she did her hair like that but you don’t want to be rude. 

“Andy, how are you?” She chirps in recognition. 

“Good, we were just walking through the neighbourhood,” he says,  You adjust the tube under your nose self-consciously. The barista is gorgeous and reminds you of everything you’re not. 

“Oh, is this your fiancee?” She asks. “She’s finally come around.” 

Andy chuckles and you blanch. He doesn’t offer a protest and neither do you. You wait for him to correct her. He doesn’t. 

“Sweetheart, what did you want to drink?” He looks at you and you nearly choke. 

“Can I have the pomegranate tea, please?” Even your voice sounds ugly. 

“Sure, what size, hon?” 

“Small,” you croak out. 

“Small pomegrante, and your usual?” She asks Andy. 

“Yep, and two of the brioche breakfast sandwiches. Oh, and something sweet for dessert. Those cherry tarts look delicious,” he points to the display.” 

“Got it, anything else?” She taps the till screen. 

“That’s it,” he slips out his card and waits. He selects a tip amount before he taps, the machine beeping in acceptance. You spy the total right before it disappears. Oh, that’s expensive. 

“I’ll bring it to you, Andy,” she smiles brightly, “you two enjoy.” 

Andy takes your hand again before you can react. He brings you to the table and you sit across from him, right by the window. You feel like you’re on display. You hate it. 

You push the tube into your nose as you think then trail your hand down the length. You stare off into the distance. You don’t know, it feels weird. It feels like he’s doing too much. Like maybe he feels bad for you. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” He interrupts your trance. 

You flinch and look at him, then avert your gaze to the table. 

“You didn’t...” you begin then shake your head. 

“What?” He prompts. 

“Nothing.” 

“Go on, sweetie, you don’t have to be shy with me. You can say whatever you need,” he leans forward as he crosses his arms over the table, “you know, your mom told me you’ve never really had a father figure. I’m here to help, to support you.” 

You nod and pick at your dry lip then stop yourself, hiding your hands under the table. “You-- that woman... she thought I—that we—you didn’t say no.” 

“Oh, I didn’t want to embarrass her,” he laughs. “It’s funny, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah...” you nod at your lap. “It is really... funny. No one would really want to marry me.” 

You cover your mouth as the thought slips out. You shake your head. Why did you say it? 

“Huh? Sweetheart?” He leans in even closer, “you don’t think that’s true, do you?” 

You shrug and peel your hand away, chewing on your sleeve as you slump low in your seat. 

“You’re a nice girl. Pretty too.” 

“I’m not,” you murmur into your cuff. “You don’t have to lie.” 

“Well who says you’re not?” He urges. You shake your head again. 

“Your mother?” He suggests. You shake your head harder. She would be livid if you told him that she did. He clicks his tongue, “well, however it is, don’t listen to them.” He reaches across to you, “hey, sweetheart, look at me.” You obey, trembling in humiliation, “you are very pretty.” 

[luciferanalyzestar]

I was cleaning and reorganizing my room, but I am taking a break to watch this. Also, what is going on with the thumbnails? Since Full Moon, they are getting more and more cluttered. Less is more.

Live reaction time, sad yippee.

That moment when you realize you have a WHOLE ASS DAUGHTER!

She is so real for this. Stella's VA always slays her lines, love her performance.

My new favorite background characters!! In love with the waiter imp's design. The background characters always look better than the main/speaking characters.

Okay, Moxxie and Millie are just yapping and being horny for each other, and I am just confused. What the fuck is happening? Visual noise. The M&Ms are my least favorite canon couple. maybe I will like them when Millie gets character outside of her husband.

Me when I buy too much stuff.

The joke is: She is homophobic. Since this sinner's situation is similar to what is going on with Blitz/Stolas/Stella? Is Stella going to be reveal to be homophobic? /lhj

Yes Via, your father is horny fetishizer who is a liar. Stolas is a bad father for not caring about his daughter and her wellbeing. He only cares about Blitz and his sexual desires. If my father or mother pulled something like this, I would not talk to them again. This is straight up abandonment.

When a stan sees a negative opinion about the Hellaverse.

Finally, Stolas says what we all been thinking, HE IS FUCKING STUPID. I guess being poor help wake up Stolas' braincells.

What in the fanfic? Anyway, the guy is a cheater, but they would have to kill the kids too. This does not seem like a Murder Family situation where the whole family was sick and twisted.

You are pregnant. What in the double fanfic?

Blitz throwing the sinner out the window made me giggle. Love jokes like that. See, it is possible for this show to be funny with swearing up a storm.

I hate Andy more than Stolas. Andy deserved that shit. Stolas beating the brakes off of Andy made me laugh. Why wouldn't Stolas be cool instead of being a UWU gay man?

What in the yaoi?

Loona is like a Dragon Ball character, how many forms does she got? This is for all the middle school wolf kids. The multiple eyes look dumb though.

I no longer like men. I'm homophobic now. Helluva made me hate men. /j

YES, VIA TELL HIS ASS OFF!!!!!! GET HIS ASS!!! RIP HIM A NEW ONE!!!! On an off note, Via's lines sound weird. I'm listening to the show via a Bluetooth speaker, and it sounds likes her VA was recording her lines in a closet to something. Especially the "chance to leave" part, I do not know I would be tripping.

Anyway, there is nothing wrong with cutting out toxic family members. Stolas was too busy getting his asshole tickled by Blitz to spend time with his daughter whose life was crumbling around her. I am tired of Stolas' bitch ass crying. Shut up. You should have drowned in that bathtub.

Loona has friends!!!??? I wish that was an episode of Loona finding friends instead of cringe episodes for people who have not grown out of the fujoshi middle school phase.

This show is jumping the shark. You know the writers are running out of ideas when they make one of the characters pregnant. At least make a male character pregnant, SWITCH IT UP!

Omg, this hellhound is like me for real, I own a pair of cheery earrings. Her design is peak like the other background characters. Someone please save her from this show.

YEP! :D Blitz misses Barbie so much that she has not made an appearance since. She really hates his ass that she removed herself from the show. I hope Blitz trips, taking Stolas with him and they both die and go into a better show with better writing.

RATING TIME: 4.5/10

I had more time cleaning and reorganizing my room than watching this episode. I felt nothing watching certain parts. The only moments I cared for was the ones with Via because of the leak storyboards of this episode. It seems like nothing was changed unlike what happen to Ghostfuckers.

Will I be watching season three? Viv said that season 3 take a while to be released and it is going to be 15 episodes long.

That would be around 2026. I do not know if I want to be watching this show when I am 25 years old. The writing choices of this show are baffling. I think (do not quote me on this) but Viv said season three will focus on the Ars Goetia in an interview which sounds boring. I do not care about their rich classist society. Is Helluva going to be Bridgerton but in Hell?

I can see myself watching Hazbin when I am 25 because there are AUs that I can indulge in when the show's writing gets worse and has like 1000 plots going on, if I do not care for one, I can pay attention to another one. Helluva's main plot point is just Stolas and Blitz, and I am bored of them. I dislike both of them as characters and as a couple/

I don't care for the rest of IMP, Fizz, Ozzie, Bee, Sallie Mae, Striker, and etc and their storylines. The only character I like is Mammon and Via and they do not appear that much.

Talking about this show is a chore. I had fun watching this show back in 2022 (I'm late to the fandom) but now, it is just a chore to sit though. The main plot is boring, and the side plots are the same recycle stuff. I have more fun reading the back label of shampoo bottles than watching this show.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

Bill was still smiling softly at that. He had remembered that day well, even if Cassandra had eventually passed out from the mesmerism he had forced onto her. Luckily, he was able to pretend it was just her being tired from 'Santa Claus' Magic' (as he told Russell) making her happy.

The memory slowly faded out into something else. He almost wanted to tell it to stay, so he could remain in that moment a little while longer. Older again. Not much younger than he was now. There she was, shouting behind him as he walked out of the front door. She was close behind.

You selfish piece of shit! After everything I've done for you, you're just going to leave your poor old mother behind?! How fucking dare you?! None of your brothers would have done this to me. Why, out of all of my children, did you have the one to live?! Why can't you ever think of anyone other than yourself?!

"I'm, I'm sorry, mom..." Russell no longer sounded upset or afraid as he said those words. He just sounded resigned, like he was tired of life itself. He attempted to soften the blow, "It's, it's not you, I, I just wanna see, see other places..."

Oh you'll see plenty of other places if you even fucking live. I hope you die out there and the last place you see are those fucking trenches! Because no one else is going to want you! Nowhere else is home! Home is here, with me. Everywhere you go, everyone is going to hate you eventually and then you'll come back, to me, where you belong!

"She said home was with her, but no, it , it never, it never was. I don't, I don't belong anywhere, not, not even with her. M-maybe I, I was being selfish... but, I, I just didn't want to come back to, to more of how she, she treats me. I'm, I'm a coward I know, but it, it wears you down..."

Bill had been sitting outside, whittling as Cassandra slammed the door behind Russell, still ranting and raving even as she walked away. At least by this point, he was too big for her to drag him outside by his ears anymore.

"I did tell him she wouldn't be happy," Bill said to Jonathan, "She can't manipulate or hurt him if he isn't there after all. Of course, I didn't like the idea of him leaving for good, but it's his choice to make."

I said she wouldn't be happy, boy...

"I told her if, if I survived the war, I, I wasn't planning to, to come back home to her... I, I honestly thought she, she might have been happy to, to be rid of me, Bill," Russell said, "I know you, you don't, you don't want me to go either."

It's not that I don't want you to, lad. I'm just going to miss you. Besides, it's your choice, I can't force you to stay.

"I, I mean, you, you could if, if you really wanted, but then there would be, be the risk of, of messing my, my brain up," Russell continued.

And even if there wasn't the risk, I wouldn't force you into that. It's why I've never tried to make you think better of yourself. You've got to do that on your own, without anyone having to scramble your brain and force you.

"I'll, I'll still come, come back and see you, and, and write to you, you know, if I survive..." Russell said, before he then seemed to remember that this was just a memory. A shadow of what things gone by, "I, I had been told to, to join the forces on, on the front... and, and I just accepted with-without question, I, I was going to head out in, in a few days...."

"He wanted to get away from her," Bill said, "He essentially signed a death warrant because he wanted to get away from her. I should have killed her from the start, but no, I thought he already didn't have one parent, I probably shouldn't take away the other one. God damn it..."

"I... I think I... I need a, a break... I'm, I'm sorry..." Russell said then, "I, I know we've, we've not, not seen much but... I'm, I'm sorry..."

Pathetic. That's how it felt. Like he was giving up before they had even really gotten started. But it was feeling like it was running over a bit much, like a pot that couldn't hold enough of the water being poured in. Seeing these images that were so foreign and yet so familiar.

{Jonathan felt his heart warm up at as he listened to both men speak - the fondness of the memory was clear as day, for a moment he could feel the earlier somber mood lift. A part of him was grateful that Dr.Swansea went for a more lighthearted line of questioning, hopefully this would prove useful to restoring Russell’s memories.}

{Dr.Swansea looked pleased to hear the reply he received from the young man, pausing to think yet again as to what else he could inquire on - he eventually spoke.} “Could you tell me something about yourself that you shared with someone close and they didn’t take the news well?” {He asked, wondering what kind of reply he’d get from this line of questioning.}

{Jonathan couldn’t help but quirk up a brow at the question, he found it… oddly specific? But he trusted his judgement, perhaps it had merit to it as specific questions require specific answers and those answers could just be what Russell needs to remember who he is.}

[numberonetacostan]

thinking about how taco and the rest of the s1 contestants would react to finding out she was practically made to win. like mephone visits the hotel post-finale talking about how he thinks they deserve to know what he planned for them to be like, and literally everyone ends up staring at taco when they hear about it. she probably wouldn’t even believe it at first. and then to think that she must have done something to ruin it for herself??

i also personally like to think that taco may have been one of the first ii contestants to break away from her programming and become her own person, even if she didn’t realize that’s what she was doing

Hello there :D!!!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your hc!!!!! :] XD

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE MOST RIGHT EVER. FINALLY A REASON TO TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH ANON!!!! (also sorry because I have been thinking about this a lot a lot a lot so i might deviate a bit more from your ask than i usually do). SHE. WAS. BUILT. TO. WIN. BUT SHE DIDN'T.

A little tangent before I go into Taco finding out, I think the reason she lost despite having been supposed to win is actually because of Bow. Now, I've mentioned before how Bow is literally the reason that Taco lost- Taco getting attacked by her is how OJ was able to catch up and beat her in the final footrace. But on a more meta level, Bow disrupted the original plan for the season. She wasn't part of the original cast. Mephone was forced by A.D.A.M. to let her in the show after she appeared halfway through the season!! Her inclusion was not in Mephone's plan. Her showing up threw things out of whack, culminating in her influence causing the intended winner of the season to lose.

Taco having been the planned winner actually makes season 2's existence make more sense, too. OJ won and built everyone a big shiny hotel to live in, they had a happy ending and everything they could want! Had Taco won, though, she (most likely, I have thoughts on this but I won't go on a tangent for the tangent) would have left with the money!!! The rest of the cast would have been left with squat, and without even a winner to celebrate since Taco ditches them. Perfect reason to start another season, right there in the same spot as season 1 took place!!! Give someone else the chance to win after the last winner got her prize and dipped. I can see her taking on her "iconoclast" role even better here, too. She won, but she isn't happy. She accomplished her goal, has everything she wants, but she's alone. So she goes back and works behind the scenes to try and put a stop to the game that pushed her to such extremes. She sees how it impacts and hurts everyone involved, and wants to put a stop to it. She allies with Mic more altruistically, to try and help someone being hurt by the game as she works to put a stop to it!! Truth or Flare can still happen relatively normally, even, with Taco desperately trying to convince the contestants to quit before they end up like her! Having won the money, but really ended up with nothing. Her redemption arc comes as her trying to fix her wrongdoings by preventing others from making the same mistakes she did. She can apologize to Pickle, explain herself, and they can be friends again!

But that's not how it happened. The other "meaner" characters get their redemptions as planned. Knife in season 2, Nickel in season 3, even Silver apologizes and gets to continue to have a relationship with Candle after he punches her flame out, even if it's a but strained for some time. But Taco? Her programming couldn't properly execute. She was built to win, but she didn't. So Mephone no longer had a planned redemption for her, or any plans for her, really. In Truth or Flare, in which Mephone had his memories back, he is surprised to see Taco show up. He did not realize she was still around. Still running mostly on her old programming despite her hating herself for it, and trying to break out of it, because the previous conditions to begin her redemption arc were never met. She had to get to "winning the game, but losing what really mattered" in a different way, that way being winning immunity for Mic in episode 14, but losing her most important connection because of it. Once that happens, she can finally really begin to change and be better, because the condition has finally been met, even if it wasn't quite how it was intended to be.

OH RIGHT YOUR ASK IS ABOUT HOW TACO AND THE OTHER S1 CONTESTANTS REACT TO FINDING OUT. UH. OOPSIES. I AM SO SORRY. GETTING TO IT NOW.

I honestly hadn't though about Mephone telling them outright!!! It would be some good growth for him to be the one to decide to tell them something important like this, that they have the right to know. He'd probably have to leave again soon after though. I can't imagine Taco taking it any sort of well. You're right that she wouldn't believe it first, she wouldn't want to believe it at first. That all this? Everything? The years of suffering? Because she was defective? Couldn't win, even though she was made to? Was it all for nothing? Even if she had won, she still would have been alone? Pickle could have forgiven her, if only she'd been able to fulfill her purpose? Augh, that's all so scrambled, but that's how she'd be thinking, you know? She would be so overwhelmed, shocked, in despair, mourning, heartbroken, all at the same time wrapped up into one little Taco. She'd just be quiet and just staring at Mephone and in the littlest voice she's ever spoken in says she needs to be alone. Goes to leave, Mephone steps towards her and asks her to wait, because he does feel bad and wants to apologize, but Taco is so not ready for that. She's been trying to heal and be better after the events of the finale- but every single wound has been violently ripped open with new ones torn into her, and she just can't do it. She would give that sort of raw scream you can only give when you have so many feelings that they need to get out through your mouth and make it clear that she needs to be alone, now.

And then I think she would sob her little heart out. The messiest, most brutal breakdown you've ever seen. Panic attacks, scratching, shouting, sobbing, breaking things, you name it. They'd leave her be for a bit, but Mic would get worried hearing all the crashing, and go to check on her. Taco has destroyed whatever space she is in and is still sobbing and scratching and breaking down, and Mic gives her a hug. And Taco sobs more, but she's being held and she can squeeze Mic and cry into her shoulder. It's a bad day for everyone, all around. OJ is having a bad time too, but is taking it a lot better than Taco, and also this ain't about him. She has a lot of healing to be done from here, truly.

I'm going to stop here, because i think this answers your ask and i have been procrastinating on an assignment that i really do need to get done now, but I can talk more about this if anyone has questions or just wants to hear more!!!^^ please ask for more this is so so so much i love it so very much please i want to talk about it more please ask questions anything please please

[pyxrin]

All In Against the House

Aka: A demigod runs into the Task Force 141 while on an undeciphered quest. Unbeknownst to her, she rapidly becomes the only wildcard able to give them the chance to win as the underdogs they have yet to realize they are.

AN: This is my cod/pjo crossover fic I got an itch for, so I started writing this and couldn't stop lmao. Didn't edit, and didn't play the games. This is also my first full blown fic, expect errors. Also haven't decided how long I want chapters to be, but expect them on the longer side. Enjoy! ^-^

4330 words

Chapter 1: Lucky Hates Mexico, but the People Trying to Kill Her are Worse

Not here either.

Lucky has decided that she doesn't really like Mexico. Las Almas at least. It's dusty and brown, but not brown in the way that movies portray Mexico. It's brown in the rotting wood way. In the hundreds of pounds of dirt that coat her already shabby clothes way. In the grimy windows that are barred by similarly brown rusty bars way. However, she can live with brown. Lucky has been everywhere, continental US at least, so she's used to all kinds of colors.

What she isn't used to is not finding what she's looking for. Or rather who. This is the tenth mostly abandoned building she's searched, and her dad wasn't in any one of them. Lucky doesn't know how much longer she can take it. The anticipation of the mostly silent night, broken by the incessant wind, and the knowledge that there are people with guns is killing her.

With every passing minute, she sweats more cold sweat, her hands shake more, and she is this close to crying. This whole town is terrifying and Lucky can't wait to leave, but she can't leave without her dad. She has no clue why that stupid prophecy led her here in the first place!

Lucky has never been unlucky enough to not find something or someone. Normally she doesn't even have to try, so that must mean that her dad isn't here. As such, she should definitely, totally, leave. The gunshots only work to cement her rapidly forming plan to get the hell out of Dodge.

She yelps as the distant sound echoes and crouches down below the windowsill. Lucky's heart pounds as she feels the adrenaline course through her veins. Everything becomes sharper, and the world becomes clearer. Demigod senses and all. 

She takes a moment to collect her very limited nerves before peeking through the window. The coast is clear. Lucky cracks open the door and pokes her head through. She looks both ways before dashing out, instinctively going left. Lucky doesn't need a plan, she just needs to follow her gut, which has never steered her wrong before. Maybe she can steal a car or something. This is as good a time as any to learn how to drive, yeah?

 Lucky sprints through the alleyways, doing her best to be quiet and stick to the shadows. Even if she has weapons, she's never been good at fighting, especially when it's bronze knuckles vs guns. She sees a couple guys down the alley she just turned down. Big fuckers with big guns. Lucky panics. Sure, they're not monsters, but they're just as scary.

She ducks behind the corner of the building. They didn't see her, but if she doesn't do something soon, they will, and they will try to kill her, and Lucky really really doesn't want them to try to kill her. She will cry. And if they kill her, she won't be able to find and possibly save her dad, and if she can't save her dad, whatever stupid fucking cartel that's coming after him will kill him, and they will both be dead and forgotten by everyone who knew them and doomed to spend eternity in the worst, most boring ass afterlife in Hades, who is probably already mad at Lucky because she fully thought he was gray with blue fire hair. Was the other side of the alleyway always as close as it is now? It feels like no matter how deep a breath she takes, she can't get enough air. Shit. She can't be doing this now! Lucky thought she was getting better! That was the whole reason why she thought she was ready to go on this stupid quest! She can't just freeze up and stop breathing every time she encounters an enemy she can't run away or hide from. Fuck! What was that thing that Chiron taught her? Senses! Focus on her senses!

She tastes saliva and dirt, which is wholly unhelpful. She hears the wind whistling through the city, the pounding of her heart, her labored breathing, small chatter, and the crunch of boots on ground that is steadily getting louder. Wait, louder!? Lucky is fucked. So incredibly fucked. What's next? Lucky feels the chill of the night wind, the sweat on her palms, and the roughness of the wall she's pressed up against. Lucky sees very little, but there is a pretty rock right by her feet, about the size of her hand. 

Wait, a rock!

Lucky picks up the rock, leans around the corner where both men are thankfully distracted and not looking, and chucks the rock as far and as hard as she possibly can. It sails over their heads and crashes into some unseen pile of what sounds like metal cans. The two soldiers whip around and immediately race off to find the source. She hears them say something something soap and something something ghost. Are they giving a ghost a bath? Weird.

She doesn't pay it any more mind as she's too busy slipping by into another side street. She takes a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall. Her heart rate finally starts going down. That thing that Chiron taught her actually really helped, even if she totally forgot what it’s called. Lucky was actually able to find and solution to her problem instead of just running away. Maybe she can actually do this whole quest thing, even if there's bumps along the way.

Once back to a relative baseline, Lucky stands back to her full height and glances around for an idea of what to do next. She turns to face back just as the soldiers she thought she properly distracted come around where she came from. They look at her. She looks at them. Lucky takes in a large gulp of air.

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Soap perks up, dropping the body he just took out. The entirety of Las Almas should've been under military control, and that sounded like a girl's scream. What the hell are civvies doing here? Soap doesn't have time or opportunity to worry about whatever war crimes Graves and his men are committing when he and Ghost were minutes away from joining the list of casualties. Hell, it could even be a trap. Who knows what that wanker's thinking?

The girl will have to be one of the many who haunt Soap after he's gone back to his bed and everything's gone quiet. When he can't help but think about the decisions made and the roads not taken. He grabs anything of use from the bodies before moving in the direction of the church. Ghost is waiting.

He doesn't get far before the girl he was seconds away from abandoning comes flying at him considerably faster than he expected her to. She's just a wee thing. Mousey. Or maybe more rabbit-ey with that pink bandana on her head and the edges of the bow bouncing like that. Certainly a civilian currently being chased by close to a dozen Shadows. It's a wonder she isn't dead yet. All of this passes through Soap's brain in an instant, interrupted only by the girl shouting. “RUN, BITCH! RUN!”

It may be the group of Shadows hot on both of their tails now, but he does exactly as she says.

Lucky doesn't know why she trusts Mohawk, but she does, despite all previous experiences giving her a major distrust in any body that upholds the law. She doesn't know where she picked up the extra soldiers either, but it doesn't matter. They just have to find a place to hide. Hopefully their now bad luck will kick in soon.

She follows Mohawk past a lost car and into the alley just by it. She hears the bullets fly by her to hit the car, as well as a small hissing that she ignores. Lucky glances around and gets an idea, and with how she's slowly catching up to her new friend, she can share the plan too. “Boost me! Left wall!” It's a sheer wall, but the building is low enough that she can scramble up there with a boost.

Mohawk doesn't immediately show signs of hearing her, but he does turn on his feet and interlock his fingers, a perfect jumping pad. Lucky continues her sprint, hopping into his hands and leaping to the edge. The soldier doesn't so much as grunt. She pulls herself up and over in an instant. However, she ain't gonna leave him hanging, so she leans over the edge and holds out her hand.

Mohawk looks suspicious, but the sounds of the rapidly approaching other soldiers changes his mind fast. We'll, as far as Lucky can tell. He jumps and grabs onto her hand. “HO-ly shit! What do they feed you?” This bitch is heavy! With a considerable effort, she is able to tug him up enough for him to grab the ledge.

He's just able to get up there when an explosion echoes in the area, followed closely by screams. Lucky steels herself enough for a peek and finds that that car exploded, the fire and debris blocking the area, as well as a few bodies. An event surely caused by misfortune. She cringes and flops back onto the roof. She didn't think that she would enjoy the feel of shitty gravel digging into her back as much as she is, but clearly a near death experience was enough to give her a fresh perspective on the subject. 

She turns her head to Mohawk who looks like he's buffering. She's used to that look. She sees it a lot when people hang out with her. Demigods or not, none are ever really prepared for her, as Dionysus lovingly calls them, ‘batshit crazy, loony tunes ass shenanigans.’ She can only imagine what a mortal would think. Lucky decides that now is as good a time as any for introductions, if only to distract from the sorta magic she just used.

“Hi, I'm Lucky, well, my real name is Lucille, but everyone calls me Lucky! Nice to meet you. Probably would've been better if we weren't getting shot at, but nothing to change that now. Sorry. I talk a lot. At least I’m entertaining! Most of the time; I’ve been told to shut up a whole lot over the past couple years. It kinda sucks, but I understand, not everyone likes listening to a yapper. Actually, I think I’m gonna take their advice now and shut up. Sorry.” Lucky talks even more than normal when nervous,and the more she talks the more likely she is to overshare. Lucky doesn’t want to give away her life story to this stranger, for a multitude of reasons, so being quiet is definitely the best option, despite how she itches to speak and words bubble just below the surface.

Mohawk decides on what to say, for some reason. Introductions aren't that hard, and she knows that he knows English because he did what she said earlier. Her musings are interrupted when he finally huffs. “Steamin’ Jesus, Ahve ne’er bin on a op this weird. Ahm Soap.”

She takes a moment, asks him to repeat what he said. He does, the last part at least, but that doesn’t help at all. Lucky frowns. She... didn't understand a word of what Mohawk said. Like. At all. She's been in life and death situations before, and her ears worked perfectly fine then, and it doesn't feel like she's having a stroke. Aren’t you supposed to smell toast when that happens? Lucky smells nothing but gunpowder, dust, and the burning car. Not that she knows what strokes feel like, or smell like, for that matter. There's only one possibility left. "Did my dyslexia move to my ears?" She asks herself quietly.

He must've heard her because Mohawk bursts out laughing. It makes Lucky jump and her heart rate spike for a moment before she calms. Mostly. She thinks he's much too loud when there are other big ass soldiers on the hunt for them. He's doing like a full-on belly laugh, and Lucky didn't even make a joke! "Ahm Scottish, ye wee lass!" She stares blankly at him for a full minute before she’s able to figure out what the hell he just said. It dawns on her. Lucky’s eyes widen and her mouth drops. She points at him.

“Oooh! You’re Scottish! Fuck!” She exclaims. This is bad. Lucky is very stupid, and even if her dyslexia hasn’t officially migrated to her ears too, yet, the ADHD that comes with the whole demigod thing makes piecing anything that takes more than a modicum of effort incredibly difficult. Wait. what she just said probably sounds really insulting now that she’s thinking about it, and she really doesn’t want to make an enemy of her new friend. “Wait wait wait! I swear I wasn’t trying to insult you or your heritage. I think Europeans are cool! Not that I’ve met all that many, but still! Really it’s my bad because I’m kinda dumb and really bad at words and shit, so it can be hard for me to know what people say sometimes, especially with heavy accents. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad! Please don’t try to kill me!” She waves her hands wildly in the hopes of conveying her sincerity.

Lucky’s panicked rambling causes Soap to panic. He just got this girl, and they are in an incredibly dangerous situation; he does not need her freaked out and likely to add to the already very high risk they’re in. He puts his hand over her mouth. She quiets and blinks at him owlishly. “Relax. Ahm Soap.” Lucky finds that his accent isn't as thick this time. Thankfully, she can actually understand him.

After a moment, he removes his hand, but not before staring at her intently to make sure she doesn't restart her tirade. She doesn't. Instead Lucky spouts the first thing that comes to mind. “Like the thing you should never ever drop in the prison showers?” 

Soap sighs heavily and holds his breath to keep his chuckles at bay. It is criminal how good Lucky is at disarming situations “Aye.” She nods with a grim expression. Lucky thinks it's a very unfortunate nickname. Poor guy, he seems like a very nice person, and having a silly nickname is an easy way for people to make fun of someone. She could also see people making fun of his mohawk. 

Lucky figures that this is as good a time as any to ask the important questions. “So what now? Do you have a way out and can I come with?” She prays to her mom that he says yes to both questions. She can’t wait to get out of this fucking city.

“Maybe and aye. Ye were coming with me anyway. No place for a civvie.” He seems to say that last part quietly, but it doesn’t escape Lucky’s ears. She doesn't know what a civvie is, but it feels insulting. Whatever it is, she doesn't want to be it. She can ask him about it later, when they aren't hiding from soldiers who want them dead. 

She peeks over the edge. The coast seems to be clear, and Lucky knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. (Are gift horses prone to biting?) She waves Soap over, who pokes his head over the edge beside her. He jumps down and looks up at her, holding out his arms as if he wants to catch her. As if!

Lucky has fallen down larger heights before, imagine her getting help for going down a building that's barely two stories tall? Insulting. Lucky sticks out her tongue at him and jumps down herself. She lands in a perfect tuck and roll. She didn't have to, but she wanted to show off. Lucky has to impress her new friend. They can be hard to find when it feels like every third person who shows interest in her is actually a monster who wants to eat her or some shit.

She dusts herself off and gestures for Soap to go ahead of her. The flaming car blocks the way they came, so the only way is through the maze of alleyways. Soap walks ahead, murmuring something about a lost bird. Lucky couldn't hear him all that well over the ambient noise. Are all military guys this weird? She kinda hopes she doesn't find out. 

Lucky follows Soap, yapping the whole way. “Y'know if every town in Mexico is like this one, I don't wanna come back, but I kinda have to stay in the country for a while until I find my dad. Or I guess I figure out what my actual quest is. I have the prophecy written on a paper, but I'm not very good at figuring out riddles. I think it means that I'm supposed to find my dad. I hope it does at least. I miss him.”

Soap occasionally replies, but his focus seems to be split between her, finding their way, and talking to the demons in his head. He doesn't tell her to shut up though, which is nice. Lucky does earn herself some very weird looks, which makes sense considering that she's talking about demigod stuff, which she really shouldn't, but it's not like it makes a difference. He won't understand. 

“I feel like we totally should've just stuck to the roofs. They're more fun and it's not like anyone looks up anyways. It's safer. Besides, then I can do some cool flips and shit. I know how to do a back-flip and a front-flip. They honestly weren't that hard to learn, but you have to just fully commit to it-” Soap has gotten really comfortable with just putting a hand over her mouth. Lucky is tempted to lick it in retaliation. Not yet.

She learns the reason he did that when she hears the chatter. Lucky freezes. She hopes that Soap knows what to do. She assumes that he does when he pushes her into the shadows, and the wall that is a foot or so inside them. Normally, the brunette girl isn’t quite so happy to be manhandled, but given that she is in mortal danger, she is more than happy to be pushed around if it makes her safer. He gives her a stern look before slipping away.

Lucky doesn't bother to ignore the sounds of flesh being cut into and the soft splatters of blood on the cobbled street. As long as the blood and gore isn't her blood and gore or the blood and gore of people she cares about, she's okay. She comes around the corner, stepping around the bodies with a little “Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through. Good stab? Yeah, good stab, Soap.” She also ignores the weird look Soap gives her. What? Is he not used to fully grown, and most definitely mostly matured adults being desensitized to viscera? Whatever. “So where are we even going? Are we gonna jack a car or something?”

Soap clears his throat and starts walking again, Lucky picking up the pace to keep up with his long ass legs. “Aye, we probably will. We're meeting up with a mate o' mine at the church over there.” He gestures vaguely in the direction they're going in. 

“You were talking to someone!? Not gonna lie, I kinda thought that you were going crazy or something, not that I would've minded. … Okay, I would've minded a little. I just don't wanna get axe murdered! You know what I mean? Is your friend a ghost?” Lucky asks amongst other things. To his credit, Soap doesn't seem surprised in the slightest, and after a moment of what seems to be intense concentration, he replies.

“...Aye, kind of. How did ye ken that?” He stops walking, turns around, and eyes her up and down. Just a quick glance, but it's more than enough to set Lucky’s nerves of edge. She must've said something to upset him. Lucky hopes it's not to the point that he wants to kill her.

“Sorry! Don't be mad! Before I ran into you I heard some of the soldiers talking about finding some soap and a ghost. Since you're the soap, I figured your friend would be the ghost.” She explains hurriedly. Soap nods and resumes walking. Lucky breathes a sigh of relief. She passed the test. She bounces after him.

 In an unspecified amount of time which could've ranged anywhere from five minutes to 45, Lucky has actually gotten Soap to open up to her a little! He even asked about her deck of cards that she had pulled out during that time to fidget with. She said that it's a gift from her dad and her most prized possession, great for magic tricks too! They’re coming up on the church. She can see it over the roofs of some of the buildings, and they haven't even encountered any more of those bitch ass soldiers who suck at taking out two guys and her. She legally gets to make fun of them because they're not here and can’t hurt her

Maybe the real missing dad, and the object of her quest, were the friends she made along the way. Actually… maybe Lucky doesn't really want Soap to be her dad or missing. Soap would probably be one of her older brothers if anything, the kind that would throw her head first in a pool, then Lucky would flail around uselessly, he would immediately panic and jump in to save her. She would bleach his hair while he sleeps in retaliation.

They resume their journey to the unnamed church to meet with Casper and get the fuck out of this shit town. Maybe she can take them with her? Being at camp has gotten her used to having people around and not having people around for the past few months has been hard. No matter what happens, Lucky will follow Soap.

Lucky almost curses again upon seeing the amount of soldiers just idling about. Waiting for them certainly. “Shadows.” Soap murmurs. Lucky wants to correct him because those are people and that's an edge lord ass name if that's what their group is called. He leads her off to the side, they jump over a white car and over a fence. They slip into a shop where Soap scrounges around for… stuff? Lucky doesn't know, but he finds something he likes. She respects the stealing grind regardless.

Lucky watches his piece the stuff together quickly. That look in his eyes really reminds her of the kid who made her brass knuckles. She taps her fingers on her legs anxiously. Even if her nerves weren't as high as they are, she needs something to do. Not even a minute passes and Soap finishes with his tinkering. Oh she really wants to talk right now, to cut the tension which feels electric. She walks over to the side by the counter, drumming on it.

Soap starts opening the door, and her senses sharpen again. The world slows down, and the glint of a gun flashes in the low light. A gun just past the door Soap is opening. He's going to get shot. Cold fear freezes her core. It isn't like her normal fear, which is jittery and overwhelming. That fear causes her to run for her life. This fear causes her to act. Lucky can't lose anyone else, certainly not someone who she's only just got the chance to know. 

Her body moves before her mind does. Lucky drives forward, ramming her shoulder into Soap's gut. With adrenaline, demigod strength, and her own musculature behind her, she has enough strength to tackle him to the side just as the door bursts open. Lucky feels a pressure in her side as a shot goes off. They both hit the ground with a thud. 

Lucky pushes off of his chest and whirls around, digging her toes into the floor to take out the monster before it can take them out. Before she can change her rings into their bronze knuckles form, another shot rings out and the monster collapses. Her chest heaves, but Lucky knows it isn't over yet. Those gunshots surely alerted the other monsters in the area. 

She stands as Soap does. He claps her back with a quick, “Thanks, lass,” but his gaze is sharp and she hears a muffled voice through his earpiece. Before she knows what's going on, he tugs her into a full sprint. They burst out of the door and Soap throws what he was working on. It explodes and smoke billows out.

Chaos erupts. She can't see shit, but she hears every last shout and firing of a gun. Lucky feels Soap's tight grip on her wrist as he pulls her, her legs are pumping and she keeps pace, her head ducked. 

They leave the smoke, dodging and weaving between any cover they can get to. Lucky's luck keeps bullets away, but they still have to be on their toes. Soap fires back some of his own. Lucky looks to their destination, a truck idling.

A bullet whizzes by her and smacks into the truck just as they get in arm's reach of it. Soap pulls the door open and all but throws Lucky in before jumping in himself, shutting the door as the driver peels out.

Lucky looks up at the incredibly large man, larger than Soap even, from her sprawled out, partially pinned state. Even his side profile is intimidating. This must be Casper. Soap turns around to keep shooting behind them, at the Shadows trying to stop their getaway, and Lucky tries to scramble out from under him, only to hiss in pain. She glances down to see a bloody hole in her side only partially hidden by her large unzipped jacket. 

“Fuck!”

[sergle]

yall are about to piss me off by not having any PASSING basic knowledge of the way the u.s. military manipulates its recruits into joining by typing up one of your uninformed, unresearched, unempathetic, individualistic, unbelievably annoying posts about how 100% of the people in the military ended up there because they just Love America So Damn Much! they're extremely mature and informed at time of recruitment, they can totally leave anytime they want, they totally had tons of other avenues in life they could've taken, there was no rush at all to get income as fast as possible, and everyone in the military also totally is part of the combat divisions and personally enjoys being IN the military very much, big believers of violence. everyone in the military is shooting guns all day, that's how that works. they LOVE BLOODSHED. also I love the "amewicans haha" twang to this type of shit because you're actually TOTALLY stealing our Thing, which is turning systemic issues into Individual Issues. Instead of talking about the powers that be, it's so Personal Choice up in here. It's, "well you shouldn't have done it then. I totally wouldn't because I know better." you don't wanna talk about the military industrial complex as a whole, and you don't want to talk about recruiters, you just want to pin the blame on Specific Individual People one-by-one, as if they're responsible for the system that they're being ground up in. someone was in the military? bad person, no matter what. it's easier to believe that, I guess, than to acknowledge that Normal People (with high school educations) are manipulated and incentivized into joining a system that is Bad. at like age 18. but yeah no that 18 year old should have just been smarter lol haha anyway here are some screenshots for no particular reason

side note this reply of someone going "umm just get loans and go into a high paying field it's easy XD" as a direct response to someone trying to explain how most americans joining the military are being funneled in that direction out of a need for money.

and another person who Decided that americans join the military just CLENCHING their teeth thinking of other people, and not thinking completely selfishly about their own selves and their own income/housing/healthcare.

[crystalclear97]

... I'll hold on to your last words @aruanimess and do it despite not being tagged hahaha 🫠

So I did three versions of myself but I could've done lot more just because of how many times I've changed my hair lmao.

Anyways, this would be early high school, basic ugly NPC lmao. Depression and anxiety growing silently inside of me mainly because of bullying, until it wasn't so silently. Shy, nerdy, a bit "I'm not like the other girls" phase. Teenager, basically. I started my first relationship looking like this. Oh I also watched snk and shipped aruani for the first time looking like this 👀

Late high school + early design school. I started dying my hair red, still hardly wore makeup, my wardrobe became even more black, my earrings bigger, started therapy (or maybe I started before idk). Ended that first relationship because I wasn't in love anymore just to enter a terrible toxic one 💀 happily my red hair lasted longer that it lmao. Started wearing my classic huge eyeliner after some time. Started having body focused repetitive behaviours (tricho being the worst).

Last one!! I started my current loving relationship with my red hair but after a year or so, just in time to graduate, I entered my pink era (which has been changing some times but overall, still in that era heheh). College was a bit traumatic. Designers and artists are so competitive and mean, ugh. My mental health became so bad that I started with meds but thanks to that I'm "better" haha. Currently employed and living with my bf, dog and cat. I wish I didn't hate life so much so I could enjoy the wonderful things I have tbh (job not being one of them cough cough I need money to live but working is a prision couggh**). But we're still hereee! I'm very lucky despite feeling so miserable, I know.

That's it, venting done for today :P

I’ve seen on tiktok that it’s trending again to show yourself through the years with picrews…since I’m back in my picrew obsession i HAD to hop on

Should i make this a thread? Or it’s too time consuming? Anyway

First year of high school, was so lame and forgettable, not a care in the world

Second year of high school, in my ‘I hate my life’ phase. Drastically cut my butt length blonde virgin hair. Still regret it to this day.

Lockdown was over, something happened: existential crisis? Who knows. One day I woke up and I decided that I was over being lame.

Fourth year of high school and moved to the us. I was a senior there tho. Anyway all that edgy look was too much so I decided that I just had to be cool.

Came back from the us, moved to london for the summer and then came back to Italy. Fifth year of highschool and my ed was RAGING. At least looks were fire. At some point I had to drop out cause my body was not able to go anymore. Still an icon.

Going back to school and repeating fifth year. Doing much better physically but not mentally BUT I was in my first serious relationship and I absorbed pretty much his whole style. Ad I looked so legend as a ginger.

Now. Somehow alive. Pretty much living in hell. But we thrive. Found out that tumblr is pretty cool and getting many tattoos. Dare i say that I’m in my coolest era.

OK BYEEEE

If you want to do this here’s the link

Do it reblogging this!

Tagging some people just to see if it’s doable :3 absolutely no pressure

@annawayne @moonspirit @dudewhy3 @aruanimess @darcycrow @skyedahelf @sweetlokum @snksznn @itsnathateasy @lucaaazd and whoever who wants to do it :3

[necrotic-nephilim]

@sasheneskywalker i love when you enable me to ramble about things because oh my god do i have thoughts.

so recently, i made a post discussing the phenomena of DC x DP and DC x MLB crossovers and why they exist and part of that post was discussing how largely speaking, at least half, if not more of the Batfamily fandom doesn't read the comics. if they interact with canon DC material, it's adaptations that are their own sequestered universes and oftentimes not remotely comic accurate or seeking to be. the most obvious example is the Young Justice cartoon. i'm adding a cut to this post because it just got so long i'm so sorry.

a lot of times, when people are discussing the "why" of this oversaturation of fanon-only fandom, they blame Wayne Family Adventures. and i think, to a point, i agree WFA is responsible for a boom in this fandom. but as someone who's been in the fandom long before we had WFA, to me it's the other way around. WFA was DC's way of meeting the demand for this easy-to-get-into, easy-to-consume content about the Batfamily that predicates itself on the comics just enough to be vaguely the same characters, but has a more sitcom, slice-of-life sort of vibe so DC could profit off of this section of the fanbase that otherwise wasn't consuming its primary material. and well, it's definitely worked. not only that, but i have a weird theory that the decline in the MCU also led to the rise in the Batfamily fandom. when you consider the fan content that made the MCU popular within fandom, it's that 2012 "they all live in Avengers Tower and Thor is eating poptarts and Clint is in the vents and there are movie nights every Friday" sort of vibe. those were the fics that were a hallmark of the fandom. and as the MCU has strayed from well... quality content in general, but specifically well-thought-out crossover content where characters can have their own arcs but also exist in a wider story where they clearly care about each other, that fandom was sort of homeless. so where do you go, if you like a superhero found family where you can have villains for angst but also stick them all in one big family-like home for silly crack and have a plethora of options for gay ships? well. you go to the Batfamily. if you write a crack/fluff Batfamily genfic with silly vibes and low stakes instead of say, a fic about a very specific comic issue even if it's a popular comic, you're *going* to get more traction for the former. because the fanbase largely just isn't reading the comics.

and i feel... complicated about this. because on one hand, Don't Like Don't Read has been a tenet of my fandom experience. i'm very pro-fandom and that includes fandom content i don't like. and to an extent, i do think this sort of should apply to Batfamily fanon. i enjoy having my moments with other comic purists, giggling over exceptionally painful OOC headcanons or even facepalming in pain over some content but it is on me to not interact with that content. you don't make fandom a better place by being hostile to fans who engage with canon in ways you don't approve of. and frankly? we as comic readers are not going to get non-comic fans to read the comics by being asshats to them. no one is going to want to pick up any comic if we get a superiority complex about it. and also, i feel like we're all lying to ourselves a little bit insisting comics are so, so easy to get into. they're not. we can just all agree, they're really not. i've been single-handedly helping my sister get into comics, specifically Wonder Woman and no matter how simple i make it, i watch her get frustrated trying to understand what pre-Crisis and post-Crisis and New-52 and Flashpoint and all these things mean and what a retcon vs a reboot is and what a Crisis Event is and what the hell Diana's current backstory even *is*. sure, you can give someone a beginner list of comics to start with and slowly dip their toes in the water but sooner or later, *something* is going to confuse them. comics as a medium straight up aren't going to be everyone's cup of tea. and if someone *just* wants to read silly fluffy fanfiction about the Batfamily, i can't entirely begrudge them for not wanting to take the hours and hours out of their day to understand this medium. it's not an accessible medium to get into. "read this and this, but this run is out of print and this run wasn't collected in trades at all but also make sure you read that event in order and this is a good comic but the backstory in it is retconned and you *have* to read this it's so important but it's also really bad because the author kind of sucks" sounds. ridiculous for someone who like. just wants to read some stuff about Nightwing. sometimes, we all make reading comics sort of sound like a chore, not a hobby.

so my point is, i do extend some grace to Batfamily fanon for existing. i think my biggest gripe is, as i said in my other post, misuse of tags (if you're not creating content about comics, maybe you don't need the comics fandom tag on Ao3, just the all media types umbrella tag) and my far bigger gripe: when panels are taken out of context to support fanon only headcanons. if i could impart *anything* onto the Batfamily fandom as a comic fan it'd be this: if you haven't *read* the comic, don't spread the panel. if you don't even know what comic it's *from*, don't spread the panel. it's fine to use comic panels to discuss your headcanons, but so often i see someone spreading a comic panel from a comic they haven't read, and when asked where it's from, they can't source it. a silly example that comes to mind is a post going around, taking a panel where Dick, in his internal monologue goes "here comes the sun. do do do do." and the post is claiming it's from him getting buried alive. when that panel comes from Nightwing (1996) #140, and he gets buried alive in Nightwing (1996) #127, two completely different moments frankensteined together. if you're going to not read the comics, that's completely fine, but unless you're sure of the source and the context, panels shouldn't be spread around. i'm sick of this specifically happening to Red Robin (2009), with ppl claiming Tim has totally killed people because he blew up some of Ra's' bases, when those panels within context, make it clear he gave everyone time to escape. and in a later arc in that very comic, Tim grapples with the idea of murdering Captain Boomerang, and *specifically chooses not to*, because he doesn't agree with murder, even against the person who has hurt him the most. if you'd like to write fanfiction where Tim is pro-murder and has done some sketch things, i'm totally on board and would probably like to read it. but there's no need to pretend it's canon from a few panels you saw out of context.

beyond that, i think it's not *entirely* correct to say that fanon is harmless. whenever i see very WFA-positive posts, they often default to the argument that WFA is fun and silly, and comic fans are killjoys for not liking it. which. i think is complicated because the issue is, WFA and fanon don't exist in a vacuum. if you like WFA power to you, i don't think it's the worst thing ever, but i do think it's degrading to these characters because honestly? they feel incompetent in the webtoon. it's one thing if WFA was solely a slice-of-life sort of deal, just having silly episodes where Bruce is taking on a PTA mom or they're all fighting for the last cookie. but when WFA attempts to take on more serious plots with these characters, it *fundamentally* falls flat in understanding them. i get it, Bruce comforting Jason having a panic attack because a noise reminded him of the crowbar felt cute in a microcosm, but i'm so serious when i say that storyline destroyed how like. half of this fandom understands Jason Todd's relationship to his trauma. it doesn't understand how he reacts when he's triggered, what coping mechanisms he seeks out, and how he would handle Bruce comforting him. even if i can believe for a brief moment Jason *would* be triggered by something like that, him running and trying to hide and then getting a hug from Bruce to make it okay is just. painful. WFA needs everything to be wrapped up in a nice, neat little bow. so even when it starts to tackle interesting concepts, it makes them fall flat with its need to be soft, low stakes, hurt/comfort. there was a two-parter episode that dealt with the complicated mutual hatred/jealousy between Tim and Damian that *almost* really interested me because for once, it felt like the webtoon wanted to explore canon messy dynamics. but of course, it had to be fixed with one conversation and a hug. you don't mend the *years* of issues these characters have like that. WFA isn't in character because these characters are hyperbole cartoonified versions of themselves to fit within the medium and be a cute happy family.

because that right there, is the crux of it. the Batfamily fanon seeks to simplify the Batfamily and force them into a nuclear family. there are so many fantastic posts on here discussing how the nuclear family-ification of the Batfam is eroding decades worth of complex histories so i won't go too far into that. but what i will say is that there's this need, in the Batfamily fandom, for the Batfamily to exist as a unit. they are a *family*. (honestly i think calling it the Batfamily is a misnomer and has been for years but we're in too deep now.) they exist to each other first, and any teams or friends they have come secondary to this family unit. you can *specifically* see this demonstrated in what headcanons are becoming popular these days. i have an entire lengthy meta in my drafts about how i *loathe* the "the Batfamily meets the Justice League" genre of fanfic because it makes no *sense*. in order to have this genre of fic exist, you must operate under the assumption that no one in the League, or adjacent to the League, knows the Batfamily exists and are thus utterly shocked to discover Batman has kids. and to make *that* work, you have to strip *every single Batfamily member* of such important dynamics and friendships so you can lock them all in Gotham for their whole lives. Dick can't have the Titans, Tim can't have Young Justice, Duke & Cass can't have the Outsiders, Jason can't have the Outlaws, Damian can't have the Supersons, Babs can't have the Birds of Prey, and so on. because if they had these relationships, they would be known to the League. the Batfamily fandom doesn't care about this, it's just "silly fanfiction", it's not trying to be serious. but how can you say you like Dick Grayson as a character if you don't understand the Titans *are* his family? at some points of his life, moreso than the Batfamily even is. it is constantly repeated to us in most comics with Dick how much the Titans mean to him. he *needs* them to be who he is. the same extends to every other Batfamily member, most of which have been full League members at this point. but in fanon, that doesn't matter. the Batfamily are a sequestered unit first, and all of those side relationships are secondary and easy to toss away, if it makes your fanfic work better.

and because they have to be a unit first, you have these forced relationships that dump years of actual canon material for the sake of making them get along. the Batfamily fandom has its favorites and well. it's no secret it's usually the boys. Jason and Tim by *far* stand out as fandom faves so, their dynamic is a heavily explored one. it does matter that in canon they don't tend to get along and especially don't see each other as family. what matters is that you can push dynamics onto them. and so fanon gets all twisted up about which Robin Tim actually idolized as a kid (Dick) and what member of the Batfamily is pro-murder but still an older sibling figure to him and looks out for him (Helena, or if you want the dynamic of once tried to harm Tim but they've reconciled, Jean-Paul) in favor of who's the most popular. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are always going to be the standouts for popularity, but it's specifically Jason and Tim who are getting fanonized the most. and that's because really, we don't have much canon content of Tim that *isn't* the comics. for Dick you've got Young Justice (tv), for Damian you've got the DCAMU, for Jason you've sort of got the Under The Red Hood movie, but Tim sort of lingers in this limbo. (yes, he's in Young Justce (tv) and Titans (live action) but in neither is he the main character nor given much depth) so, he gets a *lot* projected onto him and has become fanonized. and even with Jason's animated movies, you don't see him interact with Tim, so people build it from the ground up how they want to see it, disregarding of canon comics. i think it's what makes him so popular in the first place- he's malleable into whatever you want or need him to be.

and of course, the fanon ignores other characters in the Batfamily it doesn't know about. i feel like you could create a tier list of Batfamily characters by their popularity, going from the fandom main characters: Tim, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Damian. to the underrated: Steph, Duke, Babs, Cass. to the forgotten about unless they're convenient for a story: Kate, the Foxes, Helena Wayne, Carrie, Selina, Harper Row, Maps, Minhkhoa Khan. to the absolutely unknown: Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Onyx Adams, the Clovers, Julia Pennyworth. it's not lost on me that the ignored characters tend to be women and people of color. which is both a canon and fanon problem, DC will continue adding interesting characters to the Batfamily, play with them for a few years, then drop them to default to the "Batboys" again. and it's a vicious cycle of the fandom only caring about the "Batboys", and thus people entering the fandom via fanon osmosis won't have content about the other characters, therefore, they won't be interested in those characters enough to create it, and it's just this ouroboros consuming itself, no matter how much canon content we have of these other characters. and it's ridiculous just how large the Batfamily is becoming because of this, which is why i'm a pre-Flashpoint fan, because then the Batfamily was contained enough to actually feel like a family with every character having nuances relationships with each other, but i digress because those thoughts could be their own post.

and the thing about fanon is it doesn't exist in a vacuum. DC has started turning the comics to accommodate for what fans are asking for, because fans will beg and beg for content they're not going to consume. Tim Drake: Robin had Tim as a coffee drinker because that's the fanon accepted headcanon. and the resolution of the recent Gotham War arc was for Bruce to buy this new manor for everyone to move in and call him. nevermind that most of these characters have their own homes and have zero reason to be moving in with Bruce. Tim had his marina in Tim Drake: Robin, Dick has Bludhaven, Cass and Steph have their little side of town in Batgirls (2022), and so on. these characters are being forced together as a unit, as one big happy family living together, to appease what non-comic fans want and it's damaging comic relationships. Robin: Knight Terrors saw Jason and Tim team up and working together, which i've seen varying opinions on but i personally despised. their interactions made zero sense for any of their canon history, but it appeases them being this close sibling relationship that fanon acts like they are. also the fears they faced in their respective knight terrors didn't make sense for either character and *only* worked as a moment of bringing them together so they could reassure each other and have this weird dreamscape bonding moment. the canon is bending itself to the will of fanon rather than building on the pre-existing complex relationships. Tim barely even gets along with his most important team in Dark Crisis: Young Justice because it seems the only important relationships the Batfamily can have is with each other. and when we do see them outside of the Batfamily, it only seems to be to relive the glory days like with World's Finest: Teen Titans, instead of developing them as they currently exist. this isn't recent in the comics, it feels like you can trace it back to the New-52, but it does feel a *lot* worse over the recent years. WFA is fine when it exists in its own bubble, but the simple truth is, DC content never exists on its own. the adaptations will reflect back onto the comics. (the damage the Young Justice cartoon has done to some characters should honestly be studied) and so it does frustrate me a bit when fanon-only or adaptation-only fans act like we're being nothing but killjoys for being frustrated with this. since they don't read the comics, they don't see how the comics are suffering as a result of this.

people argue about what's out of character for the comics they don't even read. i'm sorry, but "bad dad Bruce" is consistently canon. that man is just kind of shitty. when you take someone who has the drive he has, who has this need for the Mission first, who needs a teenager in spandex next to him to keep him off the ledge, that guy is sort of going to be a shitty father figure. he just is. not on purpose or with malice, but when you compare him to any other dad in a big DC family, he sure takes the cake. it's why characters like Oliver Queen tend to *really* fucking hate Bruce for how he treats his kids. Bruce loves fiercely, but he doesn't do well with putting that love first. and his love is a controlling one, he is very particular about controlling how others in the Batfamily are "allowed" to operate. it's what drives the wedge between him and Dick, it's why Steph is never a true daughter to him. (besides the reason of her needing to be a love interest to Tim first, anyway-) i've never understood the massive outcry of people reacting to Bruce kinda being shitty in comics they're not reading. there are some moments that get ridiculously OOC with how cartoonishly evil he is (the whole Gotham War arc and that... complicated mess with Jason) but largely if you want sitcom loving nuclear father Bruce, you have to accept that is a fanon thing, not a canon one. the Batfamily being a nuclear family in *general* is fanon. most of the "Batkids" don't actually see Bruce in a particularly fatherly light and begging for moments where he calls them his kids or they call him dad outside of incredibly specific circumstances is just OOC.

it's getting harder and harder to exist peacefully in this fandom it feels like, if you don't comply to the standard fanon has set. i'm happy people are having fun with their blorbos, even if in ways i dislike, but that "harmless fandom fun" does ripple it's way back to canon, eventually. so i end up pretty tangled with my feelings because are fans at fault for DC making these poor decisions? probably not, but it certainly feels like an unfortunate cause-and-effect situation whether at the end of the day, nobody is happy. and of course, i know some fanon-only fans are striving to be more canon accurate and care about canon dynamics more than others, but for them it's always going to be an uphill battle with the above-mentioned out-of-context panels thrown around and ever-pervasive fanon overtaking anything that's truly seeking to be canon compliant. so really, it sometimes feels like we're all losing.

[polydamnory]

Oh it's gonna be BAD.

TW for obsessive, unhealthy and controlling relationships, stockholm syndrome, power abuse, mental/verbal abuse, all that fun stuff

Let's ignore everything in Cataclysm for now (minus Angel being dead RIP)

Damien is pulling everything he did with Angel and more with Freelancer and Vin, especially Vin. And by more I mean worse. He's keeping him and Freelancer close by, and probably has their magic muted pretty much around the clock. Definitely has Huxley guarding/keeping an eye on them, even if that's the last thing he wants to be doing (at least at first). He's not letting what happened with his last consort happen again. Of the two of them only Freelancer is allowed the "freedom" to leave, but only if they're with Lasko, and even that's rare because of how distracted he gets at work with them near. It can't be known to the public that the King Imperial has allowed a demon to live, let alone share his bed. Huxley and Lasko have more freedom because basically their whole lives have been dedicated to the Imperium, they have nothing to prove.

Lasko is weird about Damien in a similar way he is to Freelancer, but to a lesser degree. His mother was human born and that's not nothing to him, but him being the King of the giant cult that he views as basically saving his life definitely helps. I'm flip flopping on whether or not he would basically worship Damien for it or if they'd have a sort of rivalry dynamic due to them both being in positions of power, even if Damien outranks him. Maybe both. He probably still doesn't hold the highest opinion of Huxley though. Based on the established dynamic he has with him, I think the most I can see for those two is like they love each other but they also really hate each other. Lasko probably treats him in a very condescending manner, thinking his supposed stupidity and lack of power over him in anything other than physical strength is cute in a weird way, and belittles him in a very saccharine manner. Huxley knows this and it infuriates him, but what can he do? He's nothing but an Enforcer, and as much as he hates him, he can't stay away from him, even outside the context of his job. The moments when he is being kind to him, even when they are mocking, always seem to outweigh the times where he isn't, when he's talking down to him and making their power imbalance clear in the most hurtful ways possible. We already know how he feels about FL, and I think it's through his weird obsession with them that he starts to "like" Vin. Maybe he realized isolating them wasn't working and figured the best way to keep their relationship from progressing while also getting closer to FL was through personally supervised visits. Spending more time with both of them made him grow to tolerate him, then more. That being said he has a very similar viewpoint of him that he does of Huxley - he likes having power over him which has in turn endeared him to him, but it's still not healthy. In some big ways it's actually worse than with Huxley on account of Vin being a demon, and at that an incubus. But I don't have the mind to totally delve into that dumpster fire right now.

Vin and Freelancer are the last of the group to "come around", and only do so because of stockholm syndrome. It was bad enough when Lasko was just creepy towards FL, but now he's weird towards both of them and they can no longer get any alone time. They had plans of trying to escape, but somehow they've caught the attention of both an Enforcer and the King Imperium?! Worst yet, said King has now taken them into his home and hardly ever lets them interact with anyone other than himself and eventually Lasko and Huxley, sometimes even separating the two of them too when they act out too much. And Huxley, despite initially being cruel and rude to them (albeit he is no longer allowed to physically hurt them like before) even as their guard, has also seemed to come around to them in his own twisted way. There's no chance of escape now. So their brains do the only thing it thinks can make this better - trick them into thinking they're okay with this. That these people holding them hostage genuinely love and care about them, and that they love and care about them back. Better than rotting away in misery.

"poly damn this, poly damn that"

poly IMP damn

how would that work yall

[deus-and-the-machina]

I think an underlooked part of what shaped jin’s mindset was how even back in Torna, he was considered “property”. He and Lora spent their whole lives avoiding the authorities of Torna because they believed would straight up execute Lora to get Jin back, and no one ever denies it. and this has seemingly been a fear since Lora was a child. Jin had to hide his face everywhere he went. Maybe Torna wouldn’t have been cruel enough to execute a child, especially since the king seemed decent(?) enough, if not a bit distant. But the fact it was even a fear at all for Lora since she was so young is just awful to think about. 

According to his past self’s journals, Jin and his old driver fought in a war of independence for Torna, perhaps what made him a hero to begin with. and because he’s a war hero for deeds he doesn’t even remember, the kingdom considers him owned by them. Which is on the nose in two different ways ngl. Both in how the Blades are seen and a wider metaphor of soldiers/state. idk it’s just very sad to think about