#i have so many other thoughts i mean how about that murder folks

[gettownsburnmoney]

so much happened this episode and yet the thought that i'm left with is

i can't believe this was the episode with the butter jellies

[14dayswithyou]

Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!

Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^

✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;

cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour

I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.

His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.

Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao

He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.

If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.

Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj

I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.

Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.

I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol

I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!

He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟

I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee

Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???

Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I have gotten so many messages from folks who see what's happening to Jews right now, how literally any statement from us that isn't straight up "death to Israel!" "tear it down!" "river to the sea!" etc. - no matter how tempered in other ways or critical of the Israeli government it is - anything even mildly supportive of the terrorism victims/their families in their grief and/or Israelis deserving to live is getting dog piled to an absurd degree. And yes, that primarily targets Jews (because we're the ones primarily speaking on it) but it definitely is also hitting anyone not Jewish who says this as well. Immediately, overnight, the left has made any position that respects everyone's human rights and allows Jews room to grieve our murdered and missing family and friends without telling us they deserved to die in terrible ways completely radioactive. Like literally even the most milquetoaste statement attracts numerous hysterical commentators. And because it's so toxic, people are afraid to speak up.

And I've now heard from a lot of gentiles that they had no idea how deep the rot of leftist antisemitism went, how they've been seeing this unfold with horror, and are afraid to speak up.

Here's what I'll say: those messages give me a lot of strength, because they help me remember that I'm not insane, that this is horrendous, and we are seeing in real time exactly who would have helped the Gestapo find us if they were sufficiently convinced that this is "decolonization." That yes, the backlash really *is* that bad. I hear that affirmation and I appreciate it, and I understand your fear, because it was mine too. I myself strongly considered at the beginning not saying anything about this until I could do so without being harassed. (I decided against that because I am physically incapable of shutting up when it pertains to my people, but I understand the sentiment.)

Here's the thing: this is never going to end - those people who take seriously the question "are Jews people?" are going to be the vocal minority unless and until we all speak out. Jews are 2% of the US population and 0.2% of the world's population - there are literally more self-identified Nazis in America than there are Jews. I would honestly be surprised if there weren't more horseshoe theory leftists in the world than Jews also.

That being the case, we really do need our allies to speak up with us. I think if we all spoke up at once, it might be enough to break the silence-taken-as-agreement and shame everyone but the avowed antisemites (rather than the thoughtless and opportunistic ones) back into keeping their antisemitism under wraps. Which does have the effect of bringing the mob under control. Jews have faced a ton of mob violence in the form of pogroms throughout our history and backlash to Jewish victimhood. (Tl;dr - "How dare you make me consider how I might have benefited from or been complicit in hurting Jews? This is actually the fault of the Jews." is a disturbingly common thought process.) (You may also be wondering what I mean by "opportunistic;" I can explain in another post if people are interested.)

I know it's scary. I am well aware that you might lose friends from this. I personally decided that if those "friends" valued Jewish lives so little, they were never my friends to begin with, but it's different for non-Jews. They may genuinely be your friends. I'm not demanding you do this for me or my community, but I am asking you to consider what your line is for your friends. And if you are able to talk to them, to ask them what makes this group different from all other groups in terms of deserving compassion and human rights, it may just help us to quiet the mob.

And, if nothing else, just privately reminding those of us who are speaking about it that we are grounded in reality and compassion helps combat the mass gaslighting going on.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede

Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.

This is my interpretation…

Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.

Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.

At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.

By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.

Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.

So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.

For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.

I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.

But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.

Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.

Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.

[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

i’m genuinely shocked by this:

how can someone miss the point by such a large margin that they end up implying that Rhaenyra’s cause would have had no positive impact on the women of the realm?

how can one’s thought process be so far removed from the actual reality? is this the inconsistent logic one must tangle in to become a green? have these people never sat in a history class before?

jeyne arryn anyone? does she not exist to them? a point actually made in the book (not one twisted by the greens to advance their agenda) was that her rulership of the vale would’ve been seriously endangered and put into question if the greens won. but that is conveniently ignored by these interesting… folks.

i can understand the anger this person has with the horrible dance of the dragons adaptation and its treatment of female characters. and i mean it. especially when i say female characters. because alicent isn’t the female character who’s actually getting the shortest end of the stick. it was rhaenyra and rhaenys who were the most grievously declawed. rhaenyra is queen. her council is supposed to be her council. the war is supposed to be her war for her throne, not for some stupid prophecy that should’ve logically been lost a long time ago. and rhaenys is a baratheon with a temper and a dragon rider who would’ve burnt the greens and melted their bones if she had the chance. but for some reason the show decided to make a whole new character and slap rhaenys name on it.

to be clear: rhaenyra and rhaenys were powerful in their own right. they had dragons and were a part of the royal dynasty with claims to the throne. their power is theirs. it is derived from them.

alicent’s power is derived from the power of the men she is related to. that’s literally what the queen dowager title means. her influence is dependent on if the men in her life and her children listen to her. they don’t have to, and many characters don’t listen to her in the book, which is why i say she wasn’t the most grievously declawed.

it’s also hilarious that this person considers the queen dowager position to be the most powerful position in the greens court. they must have never read a cersei chapter as she faces her loss of power, which showcases the fickle nature of the power women hold in the westerosi patriarchy.

the correct sequence of power in the greens court is: the usurper king. then the hand. then the princes, specifically the usurper kings brothers, and then the queen consort, as they have dragons and claims to the throne. then the lords who can call on armies and fleets and have coffers that run deep. then the queen dowager, who has little influence outside of kings landing and therefore not as much influence in court as others.

the case the screenshotted post tries to make is that non-targ women’s positions aren’t advanced by rhaenyra being queen, which, as i pointed out above, is not true, nor is it what rhaenyra is fighting for. rhaenyra fought for her throne, which she had a legal claim to. that’s all. many houses joined her instead of joining the usurpers because of many different reasons, but, imo, three of the most important reasons for joining the blacks/staying neutral were 1) women’s inheritance rights (and women in general) should be respected 2) the head of the houses heir and the heirs right to inherit should be respected 3) oaths should be respected.

i also want to point out that women, most obviously targaryen women, did lose power after rhaenyra’s death and due to the concessions made to the greens and their ideology by the blacks for peace along with anti-rhaenyra propaganda that set women’s inheritance rights and the general power they could hold back by quite a lot.

and funnily enough, we see this first with jaehaera, who, while was a queen, was most likely murdered by the character who was supposed to be guarding her because no one gave a shit about a targaryen girls status and the potential consequences of killing her because they knew they could get away with it; and her death directly led to alicent’s line ending. the reality is that there were practically no consequences, as it seemed to have been easily covered up as a suicide, because the targaryens lost so much power after the dance, which directly put the targaryen women in the line of fire. if the targaryen women couldn’t be used they’d be discarded. and jaehaera, a simple girl who’s entire family was all dead besides one, and who’s father was greatly disliked by many, was an eyesore to those who wished for more power. so she was killed. brutally.

and the reason the women of house targaryen were so vulnerable? it’s because they had no claim to anything anymore! no one could try to use jaehaera for power so no greedy lords sought her favor nor did any want to protect her! and jaehaera is just the start because afterwards we get the maidens in the vault, then viserys ii is installed over daena, and then everything about naerys and her horrid husband, maekar over daenora, and eventually everything concludes with young princess rhaenys and rhaella over a hundred years later. tragic.

it’s literally downhill after rhaenyra’s death.

[yandere-daze]

This is probably the most niche thing I have ever posted but I just finished playing Tyrion Cuthbert: Attorney of the Arcane ( a game you should totally play btw!!) and I have many horrible thoughts about this man. I´m going to go insane if I don´t put this out into the world sooo... here we go!

I also feel like at some parts it kind of doubles as a character study so take that, I guess?

MAJORS SPOILERS FOR TYRION CUTHBERT: ATTORNY OF THE ARCANE! Please play the game!

3.4k words

gn reader

tw yandere, stalking, manipulation, murder, societal pressure, guilt-tripping, obsession

General Yandere! Aster Headcanons

So Aster himself is a very interesting character in my opinion. He´s very idealistic and sees the corruption of the nobility in the kingdom to be completely unacceptable. He cares a great deal about the commonfolk and because of that, the crown prince is very well-liked by the public, even before he becomes the king

Compared to many other nobles who are haughty, arrogant, or intimidating, Aster gives off the vibes of someone who is very friendly and approachable. Something about him just feels different in comparison.

And it is this friendly and open-minded appearance that would make his darling feel more at ease when approaching him to talk. Talking to Aster just doesn´t feel as scary or annoying as having to speak with other nobles. His positive attitude actually makes conversing with him an enjoyable experience

I think it might actually be more likely for him to fall for a commoner instead of a noble. Nobles in the court are cutthroat and only interested in their own wealth and power and Aster is just sick of that. You being a commoner means that there´s a better chance for you to actually be an honest and hard-working person, something I think he would want in a partner.

If you are a commoner, you might accidentally meet him when Aster is out and visiting the city for once. As we can see in Chapter 3, he would try to hide his identity as the crown prince from you if you don´t recognize him. He much prefers you talking to him as if he was simply any other person as opposed to you bowing down before him and carefully choosing your words if you were to find out who he was. He would instruct the Kingsguard to follow him a bit more discreetly, so as not to catch your eye and to never openly acknowledge his title when in your presence. He´d hate for this casualness with you to be destroyed like that.

You two talk about your daily life and the struggles you face ( him being very careful and vague when talking about his own profession, as he doesn´t want you to find out about his rank). Even though he gives off a cheerful and exciteable impression, he is indeed listening very carefully to what you have to say and makes sure to memorize it all. He needs to know everything there is to know about you, needs to know all of your preferences and opinions.

He listens especially carefully when you mention your frustrations with the nobility, how they wield all the power and money in the world and keep it to themselves while the common folk have to slave away while worrying about if they can afford the roof above their heads this month. His gaze noticeably darkens for a moment as he hears this but it´s quickly gone when he nods his head and agrees with what you´re saying. The nobility is a blight on this land.

It´s very frustrating for Aster to hear this because he knows it´s true. His visits have shown him firsthand how bad daily life for the common folk can be. He has seen with his own eyes how the members of noble houses can get away with absolutely anything. Even the justice system protects them, all their crimes are simply swept under the rug or an innocent civilian is forced to take the fall for them. It´s atrocious and Aster is so frustrated that nothing is done about it. He wants things to change but he´s only the crown prince, he doesn´t yet have the power to change things. He needs to bide his time until he becomes king and then he will rip all these corrupt off their power.

But it´s still quite some time until then so for now, he needs to focus on what he can do while he´s still powerless.

Hearing you speak about wanting to make the world a better place for the common folk in your own way with such conviction really resonates with Aster. All his life, he´s been surrounded by vultures trying to curry favor with him for when he ascends the throne in the future. He has seen countless forced smiles and false promises but he can see in your eyes that you speak with truth and honesty. And he can´t help but really resonate with that. He likes talking with someone like-minded that doesn´t treat him differently, someone that he can be himself around.

Aster can´t help but visit the city more frequently from then on, telling his father that he has important business to attend to there as an excuse. Well, it´s not really a lie, is it? Seeking you out couldn´t be any more important to him.

You´re quite surprised by how often you seem to randomly see Aster nowadays when you hadn´t at all seen him before but maybe he just moved in recently? You don´t know that he secretly orders guards to follow you around daily to then report to him what you did all day. As much as it pains him, he can´t simply go out every single day so hearing about your day is the next best thing. This way, he also gets to learn about the things you do in your day-to-day life or the things you do when you think no one is watching. Oh, how he longs to have been there himself, just watching you! His heart yearns for you and yet his princely duties often leave him way too busy to visit you as often as he would like to. But well, at least he always knows exactly where to find you if he ever finds himself with enough free time <3

But well, there is one very simple but very big problem with this situation, aside from him being the crown prince and you a commoner. He has been in an arranged marriage for years now. Ever since they were little, Aria Steelwind, a noble of one of the four main noble houses has been promised to him. And he has never been more disgruntled by this than now.

Sure, he did respect Aria in some ways. Instead of simply living her cozy noble life, she took her own path as a prosecutor to fight for justice within the corruption that is their justice system. She´s the only prosecutor willing to arrest a noble for their crimes and yet, her actions change so very little. What a naive fool she is to think that working within the system is going to have any sort of lasting impact.

No, Aster knows better. He has seen his father having to make all sorts of compromises to not displease the nobility when introducing changes. What was left were only hollow words and small changes. Small changes would never be enough to truly change this world for the better. Aster knows that if he wants things to change, he will have to take things into his own hands

From there on out, things would go over much like in the game during case 5, which is why this is my last major spoiler warning. Please do not continue reading from here if you don´t want the game spoiled for you as I will discuss the events happening at the end here.

Alright, so. Case 5. Naturally, for the sake of continuing this headcanon post, I´ll have to change up things a bit because otherwise, Aster is a little bit too dead to continue plaguing his darling afterwards. So let´s assume that in this timeline, Aster actually gets away with his crimes for one reason or another.

He used Aria´s affection and love for him and tricked her into signing a blood contract by disguising it as a marriage license. Now, Aster has full control over her mind and body, her soul forever his to use. And he didn´t hesitate for even a moment to use her as a means to further his own goals.

It was way too easy to use the contract to control her body, forcing her to go out and kill several important nobles attending the king´s funeral while he stayed behind, creating an alibi for himself. And truly, after several witnesses saw Aria kill these pesky nobles, who would ever think the new king would have anything to do with it? He wasn´t even close to any of the crime scenes!

And of course, it´s even easier to completely erase Aria´s memories of what took place. And now that he has completely covered his tracks, no one can prove that Aster had anything to do with it.

By doing all of this, Aster has killed two birds with one stone: He has successfully killed two heads of four of the main noble houses and his fianceé is going to prison for what she has done, effectively ending their engagement. Now Aster is the one sitting on the throne with the noble houses significantly weakened without a family head to guide them, making them less of a threat to his power. Now that he has all the power, he will change the kingdom for the better.

Of course, the common folk only learn about the fact that Aster has ascended the throne with the news kindly leaving out the fact that a massacre had taken place. Still, with this new information getting out it´s almost impossible for you not to learn of Aster´s true identity. All this time, the person you had been conversing with so casually was the then-prince, now-king of this kingdom. To say you´re shocked would be an understatement. What are you supposed to do now? Oh, you can´t even begin to think about how many times you must have disrespected him by speaking to him as if he were simply any other person. Surely nobles must have some sort of rules regarding addressing people, no?

Oh, you must have embarrassed yourself thoroughly in front of him! But then again, he was very nice when he was talking to you and even enjoyed joking around. So maybe he was different? You weren´t quite sure but thinking about it that way made things easier for you.

To say you were shocked when King Aster de Wyverngarde stood in front of your door one day would be a grave understatement. You don´t know what to say or what to do, now that you know who he truly was. Are you supposed to bow down in front of him? I mean he´s the king so you probably should, right?

Aster merely sighs disappointedly when you clumsily bow down in front of him.

"There´s no need for such formalities. We´re close, right? You don´t need to bow down in front of me."

"But.. you´re the king, right? I mean, it feels weird to talk to you so normally now."

He´s quite saddened to hear this. He knew this would be how you would react if you found out the truth, it´s the very reason why he went to such lengths to prevent you from finding out.

"Don´t worry, nothing has changed between the both of us. May I take you for a walk?"

He smiles and offers his arm to you, only nodding his head and assuring you that it´s fine when you seem to hesitate. So you go along and let him lead you out of your home and into the bustling center of the city, where the streets are filled with people. Naturally, everyone gathers outside and cheers when they see the new king walking along the streets.

Aster is very well-liked by the common folk for his open and honest demeanor and his willingness to help them. Everyone has high hopes for him, believing that he will be the one to finally make things fairer for them, the one to push back against the corrupt nobles using them for their own gain. And well, in one way or another, they´re certainly right about that. Aster doesn´t hesitate when it comes to removing vultures feeding off of other´s hard work.

After getting over their initial excitement over seeing the beloved king, people begin to notice that you´re holding onto his arm as he walks you around town with a wide smile on his face and people begin whispering amongst themselves. Who are you and why are you with the prince? Judging from your clothes, you are a commoner just like them so how do you know him? And young Aster seems to be holding you awfully close, is something going on there? Everyone has heard that the engagement with Aria Steelwind fell through because she had turned out to be just as corrupt as all the other nobles, breaking Aster´s heart. Were you his new love? It would certainly be something for the king to be in love with a commoner.

You´re beginning to notice the people whispering and you get quite uncomfortable at their staring when Aster suddenly stops and turns around to face you. You almost walk right into his arms at the sudden stop, a sheepish look on your face. Aster simply smiles and takes one of your hands into his, staring right into your eyes.

And then the rug is pulled from right under your feet as Aster gets down on one knee, the crowd quickly bursting into cheers as he pulls out a small little box and presents it to you.

"My love", he begins speaking and you feel your heart plummet into your stomach. You notice that he seems to be talking quite loudly on purpose, as the crown quickly reacts to his words, growing silent as to listen carefully.

" We have known each other for a long time now. We had to hide and share our love in secret. But from this day onward, I want us to show ourselves to the rest of the world, to let them see the love and devotion we have for one another."

You´re just standing there, frozen in shock, almost incapable of processing his words. Our love? Just what was he talking about?!

"As you well know, I have gone through immense heartbreak in the past, I have had my trust and heart broken once before but with you, I want to start over. I trust you completely and vow to be by your side for all eternity if you will have me. I love you more than anything, my love. Will you give me the honor of taking me as your husband?"

The atmosphere is tense, the people around you holding their breath in anticipation but some voices still ring out from inside the crowd.

"I can´t believe it, a king proposing to a commoner! His love for them must be so strong, it´s so romantic!"

"The king is such a kind and benevolent soul, they must be overcome with happiness right now! Look, I think they´re on the verge of tears!"

"It truly is terrible what happened with his past engagement. To be betrayed like that, His Majesty must have been beside himself with grief. He deserves this new chance at love."

You hear voices ringing out all around you, and you feel completely overwhelmed, unsure of what you should do now. Everyone looks at you so expectantly, everyone is practically screaming at you to say yes and yet, that´s not what you want. You´ve never even thought about marrying Aster, to have this sprung on you so suddenly is terrifying. You feel like you´re losing your grip on yourself when you suddenly feel a squeezing feeling on your hand.

With a start, you look down to see Aster holding your hand tightly, enacting almost an excruciating amount of pressure. The look on his face is more akin to a smirk now than the soft and innocent look he had before. He knows that there´s no way you could say no under these circumstances. By dragging you out into a public area he has forced your hand to agree to his proposal.

What foolish commoner would ever reject a king? It would be a blatant show of disrespect and they would surely be shunned by their peers for being so ungrateful. Furthermore, Aster had a great reputation amongst the common folk, no one would show you any sympathy if you tried telling them that he was lying about you being in love. Who would ever believe you over the ruler of this country? If they´re being charitable they would chalk up your protests to being shy about the entire ordeal.

You´d also have to be a real monster to reject King Aster´s heartfelt declaration of love after he had already been betrayed by his past fianceé not very long ago. How could you hurt him after what he went through? Of course, no one knows what really happened with Aria, no one knows how Aster was the one who used and manipulated her. The truth had been conveniently hidden from the public and twisted to serve his own goals. After all, who would want a known murderer sitting on the throne?

And it is through all this pressure that you finally crumble, a solemn expression on your face as you mutter the word Aster had been wanting to hear you say so desperately.

"Yes", you relent.

The dark expression on his face immediately vanishes and he gets up from his kneeing position, wrapping one arm around you while using his other hand to slide the ring on your finger. This is the happiest day in his life and sooner or later, you will see this his way.

Naturally, after what you had just witnessed, the facade is gone and you no longer see Aster as an innocent and kind person only looking out for the best of others. You don´t learn about the true darkness within him and the crimes he has committed in the name of "doing what needs to be done", but you know that he can´t be fully trusted.

Aster is of course saddened by this because he wants you to love him just as much as he loves you but he figures that there´s nothing to be done about it now. You will simply grow to love him in time, there is no other option for you now. Your fate is already sealed, how would you ever get away from the king and more importantly, your fiance? You two are engaged and everyone knows about it, he made sure that the news would be spread fast. A king marrying a commoner is very unorthodox and almost scandalous but if anything, it only makes the common folk trust him even more.

Now that you´re engaged, Aster won´t let you stay at your old home anymore, he sends a carriage to immediately pick you up and take you to the castle where you will be living for the rest of your days. There, he will try to spend as much time with you as possible within his very busy schedule. He believes that sooner or later, you will come around to your new life. He understands that this must be all very shocking for you right now but he´s sure you will get used to it.

In the meantime, he will gift you anything you might ever wish for. Anything to get you accustomed to your new life by his side, anything to win back your favor after the stunt he had pulled when proposing to you.

Rest assured though that he´ll never let you wander away from him too far. You´ll spend most of your time within the castle walls and when he can´t be with you, he will still send guards to trail behind you and keep you safe while also keeping tabs on you.

He tries to be soft with you, trying really hard to gain back your trust. He quite likes holding you close, holding your hand, or kissing your cheek. It feels so romantic. This is the love he had been denied all his life, this is what he always wanted.

Naturally, he won´t let anyone interfere with your relationship. You are his and anyone that thinks differently has to be removed. He has no remorse when it comes to getting rid of any perceived rivals, though he wouldn´t get his hands dirty himself. Anyone that defies him must be removed, it´s the only way that he can build his ideal world, a world in which you are by his side forevermore.

[crazyvaleska]

Listen To Me | Jerome Valeska x GN! Reader

summary: you are jerome's psychiatrist at arkham asylum and after years of treating him he opens up about his childhood trauma

genre: angst

word count: 8479 (it's a long one folks! so get comfortable and grab ur popcorn & blanket! and tissues.)

warnings: cursing, self harm, mention of sexual assault & domestic abuse, mention of death & suicide, just a lot of angst in general. read at your own risk, you've been warned.

a/n: i started writing this back in august 2022 and finished it just now. been adding small paragraphs to this story every now&then. some paragraphs were written days apart while others were written weeks apart. i'm writing this bc i feel like there aren't many angsty stories with jerome. imo jerome isn't evil but broken. also having read his diary added up a lot to his character as it's pretty depressing. perhaps everyone has a different version of a certain character. here's my version of jerome.

also i got a tiny bit inspired by the harleen graphic novel and the joker movie for this !!

the playlist i was listening to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5E2lk49zurRTAaHq3Nz7FQ?si=7TQxYHDsQ0ypPYkIvlLCpw&utm_source=copy-link

jerome's thoughts are written like this btw!

enjoy! (or don't.)

A huge amount of people would say it is impossible to become a psychiatrist at 18. That must mean they've never been to Gotham City. Here anything is possible. Therefore, you had just graduated medical highschool when you were offered a job at Arkham Asylum and you had no choice but to take it. You were aware of the risks of working in a place surrounded by criminally insane lunatics, but you didn't really have another option. You needed a job. Besides, taking risks never ever scared you. Though many viewed Arkham as a spooky place, to you it was interesting. Treating mentally unwell criminals was challenging because you liked helping people, no matter who they were.

What you didn't know was that one of the patients you would have to treat was none other than the infamous Jerome Valeska himself, probably one of the most demented and wicked being Gotham City had ever know.

Yet, you thought his character was rather fascinating. After all, you had known Jerome for years.

Jerome Valeska. How do you even begin to explain Jerome Valeska?

You first met him right after he killed his mother, the first time he was in prison. Before he died. Before he was an infamous murderer. And you had to admit, he did become more intimidating as years passed by.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about him at first, same old story about the son committing matricide. Though, he never told you the entire story. You noticed he was uncomfortable and you didn't want to push, everybody had their boundaries and you respected that.

If you had to describe in one word the way he was acting in his firsts therapy sessions, you would use the word "flirty". Sort of. A mix of charisma and inappropriate jokes.

He told you he didn't plan on killing anyone else, claiming that the murdering of his mother was something personal. For some reason, you chose to believe him. Until Theo Galavan happened. It was like the Jerome you once knew had completely vanished. He was the same and a different person at the same time. You almost felt sorry for him. But then again, you weren't supposed to get attached to your patients. Jerome was charming and all, but he probably didn't feel the same way you did. He was just a kid after all, and so were you. Both 18. The only difference was, you were trying to cure insanity while he was trying to spread it.

A few days later he died. Actually, was murdered. Poor thing, you thought. You wished you had more time to know him. You wished you could've helped him. You knew small parts about him but not his entire story.

You had hoped you would forget him as time flew by, but you didn't. His evil crackle never left your dreams. It was always there. You could hear it all the time, as if he was trying to reach you. It was torturing you. Yet pleasant at the same time. You missed him, truth be told. But you knew he was in a better place now. Or so you thought.

That was until he was resurrected. Being honest, you weren't exactly surprised. This was Gotham City, after all. Everything was possible in Gotham. The actual shock was seeing him faceless and unconscious. You wondered how much strength does one require in order to be able to staple their face without passing out. Jerome's pain tolerance was so high, it concerned you.

By the time the ginger maniac was sent back to the Asylum, his face had been attached back to its place. He was hideously scarred now, wearing a permanent disturbingly bright smile. Although, to you he looked fine. Somehow attractive. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was simply your questionable taste in men. At the same time, he was much more intimidating now, much more grown. And as a result to him dying by being stabbed in the throat, his voice had also changed. It sounded more threatening now.

"It's good to have you back, Jerome!" you said in his first therapy appointment of the year, a warm, kind smile on painted on your lips.

His reply came out natural, "Well, at least someone missed me." but his face was expressionless and emotionless, and his voice numb, as if he had lost his spark.

To most, he was simply just out of his mind, a low-life criminal, but you felt there was more than that. You desperately wanted to know what made him the way he was, what made him turn to a life of crime, because you knew no one was born evil, not even in a city like Gotham (though he wasn't born in Gotham) it was usually the environment that could cause one's insanity. And you could see it in his eyes: he wasn't born bad. He was shaped evil, but not born evil. But then again, anyone could go insane with just one bad day.

Jerome was very charismatic, he could get anyone do whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, he was an amazing liar, you couldn't ever tell when he was speaking the truth and when he wasn't. He didn't seem to care about the way others felt and showed lack of remorse, he was impulsive and manipulative, deceitful and reckless. He was extremely narcissistic and showed lack of empathy towards others, and you had diagnosed him with Psychopathy Cluster B Personality Disorders and Schizophrenia. The ginger was on different medications. Sometimes he didn't take them, other times he did and not only his, but others' as well . You had told him multiple times how that was no good for him, but he never listened.

The thing about Jerome was, you never knew what he would be like in your therapy sessions. Sometimes you felt like you knew Jerome, but did you really? Oftentimes his behavior was passive aggressive, other times he would crack up jokes and you actually enjoyed his company, getting lost into his mesmerizing hazel eyes, as if you two were actually friends. Most of the times he just stayed quiet though, especially if you mentioned his family. Sure, he had no problem talking about killing innocents but once you switched the subject to the murdering of his mom, for example, he would tilt his head and pretend he didn't hear you or just say the same old story about her being mean, but you suspected it wasn't just that, you could see it in his eyes that part of him was still... hurt? His eyes spoke volumes. Although he always tried to hide it by pretending to be a God, deep down he hated himself. But of course he didn't want anyone else to know that, he didn't want to be seen as weak. Not anymore. He knew better than that. You noticed this thing about Jerome, he tried to act unbothered all the time but he always did this head tilting thing whenever he felt uncomfortable. Sure, Jerome was always surrounded by people, mostly his followers, but being around people doesn't mean you actually trust them. And you couldn't blame him for having trust issues considering he was stabbed to death by the only person he ever trusted. You could only imagine the feeling of betrayal he felt. That must have been traumatizing, but he had never ever addressed it.

One rainy Thursday the young Valeska told you he was upset because there wasn't any pudding left at the cafeteria. So the following day, Friday, you came up with an idea that could get you killed, but it was worth a try.

It was getting dark, your shift was over and you were supposed to go home. But instead of heading towards the Asylum's exit you found yourself walking towards its core, towards one certain inmate's cell, inmate E-146's cell: Jerome's cell. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous, because you were. You didn't have anything to defend yourself on you. If anything, you were aware you were walking towards something that could be mean your sudden death.

You did have to pay bribe to the prison wardens that guarded his cell. They warned you about the homicidal redhead, but you liked to believe you weren't scared of him. To you, Jerome wasn't scary-looking. What really scared you was his mind. You had read his criminal record thus you knew what he was capable of. Even though you tried to tell yourself he won't hurt you, truth was you had no idea what he'd do or say, he was unpredictable.

First time you stepped foot in his cell was an experience you weren't going to forget anytime soon. The room was smaller than you though it would be. Not that you were expecting any kind of luxury. But this was worse than anything you had ever imagined. The first thing you noticed was the extremely low temperature, it was bone-chilling. No wonder why Jerome sounded sick all the time. Four gray walls and a dark ceiling that looked like it could collapse over you at any given moment. A bed for one person that was placed next to a prison porthole and near it a small, cheap table with an old chair in front of it. The smell wasn't very welcoming either, you thought rats were the only thing missing from the picture.

Jerome didn't notice you initially, he was busy writing in something that appeared to be a notebook. You cleared your throat loudly, which made him jump. You caught him off guard, quite literally. He looked equally shocked and confused to see you.

"Whatcha doing here, doc?" the redhead asked as he sat up. He placed the pencil down and closed his book, then took small steps closer to you. Only now that you were both standing up at the same time you noticed how tall he actually was. In the therapy room, his arms were always folded together in a shinny white straightjacket that prevented him from harming the doctor before him. You had actually never seen Jerome with his arms free so close to you before. He was wearing his stripped prison uniform instead of that tight straightjacket and you could tell he was way more muscular than you thought, his hands were enormous, he could knock you out in a second. His looks should've alarmed you but for some reason they didn't. Actually, you were happy to see his body looked healthy. Everybody said he looked like a nightmare, but to you he was the opposite. You shook your head quickly trying not to think of that or anything potentially inappropriate.

You hitched your breath nervously as you took a few steps back. "I told you already, you can call me Y/N... Uh, yesterday you said there wasn't any pudding left for you so I thought I would...um ... I... well," you stuttered while searching for something in your bag. The man raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. You reached your hand out, holding a bowl of chocolate pudding, "I-I... I made it myself! And I paid the guards to leave..." you said in a low murmur.

The unsurety in your voice didn't go unnoticed and it made Jerome grin. He walked even closer to you and crossed his arms while nodding, "That's so brave of you, Y/N! But you do realize I could poke your eyeballs out and squash you like a bug right about.... now!" he hissed. The next thing you felt was your chin being lifted up by his gloved hand, holding it in a tight grip, forcing you to face him. You avoided looking directly into his eyes so you just stared at his hand. Unfortunately for you, that seemed to bother him, "My eyes are up here," he used his free hand to point at his eyes.

The fabric of his white glove was soft but his touch was aggressive and harsh, the clutch on your chin was hard, "... I just... I just came here to give you this, nothing more." At first, Jerome was very sceptical, not believing any of it. He even thought the pudding was poisoned and insisted on you having a try before he did. The rest was history.

That happened approximately one year prior. You had spent the last 12 months seeing Jerome 2 times a week: one time during his therapy appointments every Thursday, the other time every Friday night, when most of the Asylum's staff had gone home. You had stolen they keys to his prison cell and no one knew about your late at night meetings with the clown prince.

The first times everything was pretty awkward, Jerome used to search your bag and pockets for any sharp objects that you could potentially use against him. But with time he stopped doing that. Approximately after 6 months.

You mostly brought him food, especially sweets, Jerome loved candies but he wasn't allowed to eat those in prison. Sometimes you even played cards with him and he would win every game, the boy knew how to play the jokers, that's certain. He did make inappropriate jokes from time to time, but nothing that made you too uncomfortable. He never touched you or anything like that. Everything stayed platonic.

One time you attached a colorful self-made bracelet to his wrist. You had a similar one on yours. Jerome pretend he didn't like it, telling you that friendship jewels were a waste, but truth be told, he liked it, he wore it all the time, he liked playing with it beads. Of course, he made sure it stayed hidden underneath his sleeve. He didn't want anyone else to see him like that. He had a reputation to uphold. Thus sometimes he would threaten your life in a playful manner just because he was Jerome Valeska.

You had also noticed the ginger was great at arts and crafts so you brought him crayons. Lots of them. The previous week you even brought him a scissors after he had begged you to for weeks. He promised he wasn't going to hurt other prisoners with it. He was using those to draw and decorate his diary. You knew he had a personal journal that he had never showed you. But you were cool with that. Though you wished he could open up to you, you didn't want to push, you wanted him to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he had to. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to help him get better. You didn't feel that way about other patients. Obviously, you wanted to help them too, but with Jerome it was different. Not that you would ever admit it out loud, but you had grown some sort of crush on the maniac. You knew how wrong that was, but you couldn't help the way he made you feel everytime his eyes met yours or when he smiled at you. You came to the realization that Jerome wasn't half as bad unless he was surrounded by other loonies or by people he despised. He was quite chill aside from his maniacally laughter.

Although Jerome didn't own a watch, he simply knew what time you were supposed to show up. In fact, he had actually grown to like your little visits. At first he found all of this annoying and irritating, but with time he changed his mind. You weren't so bad after all. Actually, he was waiting impatiently each of your visits. You were nice to him. Not a lot of people were nice to him. Nobody, actually. Just you.

Therefore you being late one certain night didn't go unnoticed. Strange, Jerome thought at first. You had never been late before. Was this all? Did you spend all that time with him only to leave him like that? Did you replace him with another patient? Did you get bored of him? Did something bad happen to you, perhaps?

Jerome shook his head. He didn't like to picture you dead. Why was that? He loved everything about death and killing, blood and gore. Why did it bother him now? He promised himself he wouldn't get attached. No, no, Jerome Valeska didn't give a shit about anyone. He was heartless. A monster. Everybody said so, so then it must be true. So what if you died? Who cared? Not him, that's for sure. Yeah.

But then, why had he been walking circles in his small cell for minutes? Why was he breathing heavier and why did he have an awful gut feeling? And now how did he find himself in this position again? Sitting on his bed, facing the wall with teary eyes, clinching his fists anxiously and twiddling his trembling thumbs. There were drops of dark red blood on his already dirty mattress. Drops of blood between the beads of his bracelet. When did that happen? He could vividly remember when he started pressing the scissors down his wrist. It all happened so fast. He didn't even apply much pressure and yet he had managed to draw enough blood to cover his fingertips. How did he end up like this? Like a sobbing mess. Why did you do this to him? Why did you give him hope? He should've known better. Humans are deceitful beings. They lie and they never keep their promises. One day they love you, the next they don't need you anymore. So he really didn't learn anything from trusting Theo Galavan after all. He remembered it as clear as day. He thought he could finally be happy when Theo came along, gave him a proper bed and proper clothes. He was like the father he never had. But then his life flashed before his eyes as he dropped dead by the hand of the one man he thought was trustworthy.

Oh, dear ol' Jerome. Getting attached to the first person to treat him like a normal human being again. So all those times you took care of him were all on act. Of course. Why was he so stupid? Stupid enough to think anyone would ever care about him. Of course it was all a lie. He hated you. This was pathetic. Everyone was pathetic. Crying was pathetic. Crying was for the weak. Jerome wasn't weak. Not anymore. But what if, perhaps, you weren't even real? What if he had been imagining you the whole time? After all, it was all too good to be true. But maybe that's just the way life is: it hits you harder than a train truck, then you feel good for a while because you start doing things that distract you from how you truly feel, killings in his case. But then you realize you weren't ever really happy, just delusional and that makes you depressed again. It's like a never ending loop.

The boy shivered at his own thoughts. So many questions at the same time. His mind was suffocating him. But he liked it, didn't he? Or maybe did he just trick himself into thinking he liked it? He liked being sick, right? Who was he without his sickness? Pills. He needed more pills. The pills were never enough. If only he had enough pills to...

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the very familiar sound of his creaky door being unlocked then opened. Jerome knew this could mean one thing. He quickly wiped his teary eyes with his knuckles then clothed his fingers with his gloves. He cleared his throat, "Where were you?" he asked, his voice harsher than ever. He didn't want you to see him vulnerable. He tried to hide it. He didn't want to admit not even to himself he was somewhat worried. But, in fact, he had grown very fond of you. He wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what he felt towards you. There's a very thin line between love and obsession. All in all, part of him was relieved once he heard your voice.

"I'm sorry, Jerome. I had some things to take care of. Things that involve you, actually," you closed the door behind you and took a few steps forward.

The last sentence got Jerome's attention so naturally he turned his head around to look at you. His stare was so intense it seemed like he was staring directly into your soul. His hazel eyes were so beautiful yet so terrifying, you couldn't stare at them for too long. The dark circles under his eyes were darker than ever and you wondered if he ever slept. It was your job to help him get better but it seemed that he was getting worse everyday, like he was losing himself therefore you were failing. But you had to pull him out of his misery. You had to.

"You threatened Oswald Cobblepot," Jerome couldn't help but snicker proudly at your remark before you could continue your sentence "And you also took his medicine. How many times have I told you that taking meds you don't need only makes things worse?" you paused but the boy didn't reply. He knew it was bad, he just couldn't help himself. You sighed "They want to change your therapist, Jerome. They don't think I'm doing a good job with you."

Jerome's face dropped, "As in you'll be replaced?" he asked and you nodded. No, this wasn't possible. You were lying, you had to be. First you're late, now this. The redhead jumped out of his bed and walked up to you, "You're lying."

"Jerome-" you started but he didn't let you finish.

"Don't you dare to Jerome me. You're an hour late and now you're telling me you wanna get rid of me?" his tone went from numb to mad in a matter of seconds.

"I'm so sorry for the waiting, I'll try my best to keep you. I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die."

That only made Jerome crackle in an ironic manner "Oh please, Y/N. Don't make promises you know you can't keep. Empty promises. You're growing tired of me. It's funny, actually. I think this may be just my luck! Jeremiah promised he wouldn't leave too, but he did anyhow. And now you."

"Who's Jeremiah? I don't know what you're talking abo..." you felt like you couldn't breathe as panick took control over your body, "...why is there blood on your gloves?"

Shit, Jerome thought. "It's paint," he smiled but you knew he was lying the moment he tried to change the subject "Jeremiah's an old acquaintance, if you will."

"I never brought you paint..." you murmured. Then you remembered what you did bring him. The scissors. "You promised you won't hurt anyone with it..." you whispered.

Jerome shrugged, "I promised I wouldn't other inmates. I never promised I wouldn't hurt... myself...!"

Your eyes opened widely at the sudden realization. You covered your mouth with your fingers and your heart was beating impossibly fast while tears were filling your eyes. It was only now that you noticed his slightly puffy eyes too, "I'm so sorry... Jerome... oh God..." you muttered. He didn't look at you until he felt your hand on his.

Jerome hesitated to speak at first, "Oh, y'know... the scissors just slipped. I'm fine, really. No need to worry about me. If anything, I like bleeding out."

You knew that wasn't true. "I'm gonna get the doctor... we need to get it patched up."

"Then they'll know you're here."

"I don't care. I'll probably lose my job anyway. You hurt yourself, Jerome. You could get an infection. Fuck, I was supposed to help you get better but I didn't do shit! Now you're bleeding and it's all because of me-" you were cut off by Jerome's gloved hand covering your mouth.

"Shh. I'm fine, Y/N. It's not that serious. It's just... I don't feel safe when my scars are healed. I need to bleed to calm myself. It's like a part of me. It's my biggest comfort."

You tried to mumble something underneath his hand which made him frown, "I don't need your pity, Y/N. You're trying to weaken me, it won't work," he moved his hand, giving you the chance to speak.

"Please, Jerome. I care about you! I won't let you hurt yourself any longer!" you cried out. It was true. You would've done anything for him and it hurt you knowing he was harming himself. He thought he had it all under control but clearly he didn't. You were scared of what he could do to himself next. You couldn't just watch him destroying himself knowing you could've helped him.

Jerome shook his head repeatedly and covered his ears with his plams while circling around the room, mumbling things to himself. Eventually, his voice got louder and louder, "NO NO NO NO NO! No, you don't, stop saying that! Cut the bullshit, Y/N! You don't care about me, no one does! Jerome has no one, Jerome's all alone! It's how it's always been. It's how it's always gonna be. What the fuck do you want from me? Look at me! I have wanted to die for as long as I can remember. And guess what? When I finally did some jerks thought it'd be funny to bring me back to this shitty life! You think you understand me, but you don't! You can't save me, you can't fix me! What have you done to me? You cracked me! Just leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!!" he yelled as he shed a single tear.

His face turned red from all the rage and you could swear he was gonna kill you at that very moment, but he didn't. Instead, his body collapsed on the ground. He was hugging his knees while staring at the floor, with his back pressed against the cold wall. You had no clue what just happened but he looked defenseless, practically harmless right now. You knew this was risky, but you kneeled next to him then reached out your hand and caressed his shoulders which caused him to look at you. You didn't see a psychopath in his eyes anymore, just a frightened child. That wasn't the ginger maniac everybody feared. That was a poor boy stuck in his traumatic past.

"Let it out, Jerome. This is why I came here, so we could talk like 2 human beings. Help me understand you. I know I can't take your pain away, but you can talk to me," you whispered.

"I'm not a human being. I'm a monster, can't you see? Everybody fears me. I'm the monster parents tell their children about," he muttered quietly. Usually he said that proudly, but now it sounded as if he was ashamed, which was very out of character. What he felt at that very moment was confusion.

"You're not a monster, Jerome. I have this feeling that... you're misunderstood, like no one ever listened to what you had to say. I am here to listen and I promise I won't laugh or judge. But if you hold everything inside you it's only gonna get worse... Let it all out, please." you spoke in a soft murmur.

"I don't even know.... what I am supposed to say," Jerome sobbed.

"Anything that comes to mind, that upsets you, that you wanna get off your chest. What is that one thought that won't let you get rest at night? The things you always wanted to say but nobody ever listened to. The things you always tried to forget because it all hurt too much. I can see the depth and complicity of your character, Jerome. You're not evil. Your past is haunting you, isn't it? I can see it in your face, it was rough. So please, I just want to help you. And I won't tell anyone, you have my word."

The ginger glanced at you with furrowed brows, trying to keep track of his thoughts. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He felt helpless and he didn't know why. He didn't know why he suddenly no longer felt in control. Was it because you were the first person to actually look at his wounds concerned instead of laughing? Because you were willing to actually listen to what he had to say? No one had ever told him that before. Except for you. But he couldn't bring himself to entirely believe anyone could actually care about him. His chest was hurting and his heart was aching. He was tired of hiding.

"... okay, I'll tell you everything," he nodded his head eventually, "but I'll never tell this story again so you better be all ears."

You nodded while caressing his once-so-soft-cheek slowly. Initially he shuddered, then he closed his eyes and leaned in your touch, giving you permission to carry on. Tracing your fingers on his cold pale skin made you feel his every scar, but his scars didn't scare you, they never did. You could tell he wasn't used to this kind of stuff. He wasn't used to people treating him like a normal human being. He wasn't used to being touched unless the touch was meant to harm him. He hadn't even started talking but you just knew something terrible was about to come out of his mouth.

The man took a deep breath. He knew that once he started speaking he wouldn't be able to stop. He had been holding all in for so long, it all came out like word vomit.

"Jeremiah is my twin brother. He was always mother's favorite. Mother. Can I even call her that? No, she was never my mom. Lila Valeska never loved me. She never treated me like her son, not even when I was a baby. She had only one son and that was Jeremiah. I was just... there. Like a nephew she had to take care of or something. But not a son, no. She always said I ruined her life. Yeah, like it's my fault she had unprotected sex. But I could never understand why she praised Jeremiah all the time. What was so special about him? What was he doing so much better than me to get that kind of appreciation from mama when we were just 5 years old? I can only remember he was into maths and puzzles and that kind of shits from a young age. He pissed the hell out of me. But I didn't hate him. I mean, at the end of the day he was still my brother. And sometimes he would hold me while that whore was busy banging clowns the next room, assuring me that everything would be alright and that mother didn't actually hate me, promising me that one day we'll get out of the circus and live our best lives. What a dirty little liar...! And to think I actually used to believe his empty promises... Until he turned his back on me."

Jerome paused. His eyes were now filled with anger, you could tell he didn't like his brother much. Then he continued.

"It happened once we turned 7. Lila had hit me multiple times and I don't even remember what was the reason, but then again, it's not like she ever needed a reason to hurt me. Before this it was usually just slaps, but this time it was a proper beating. The sadness mixed with anger I felt at the time were too much to handle for a little boy. I had to somehow let it out, y'know? So... I started mutilating small animals. Soon I grew an interest in murdering them. And it felt... therapeutic. I know I should feel ashamed of this, but I don't. I never did. Hell, I even pretended they were her because I knew I wasn't strong enough to actually hurt her back. How fucked up I must've been to behave this way at 7, right? But things got complicated when Jeremiah found out. He said," Jerome talked in two different thin voices the next parts:

"... ' I understand your anger, 'Romie! I think it's quite interesting, really! '

I actually believed him and replied happily ' You think so, 'Miah? But please don't tell 'ma, she'll get really mad at me! My cheek still hurts from the last slap she gave me! '

' I would never! She hits me too sometimes, you know. But I don't know why she's so mean to you all the time! '..."

Jerome cleared his throat and went back to his usual tone "Well, he kept his promise, kinda. He didn't tell our mother but he told uncle Zach ―and let me tell you this― he was the WORST. Such cruelness in one man. He used to cook food for the other circus members, but he was an ex prisoner, spent years in jail for robbery and rape. Yeah, that's my fucked up uncle. He was a cook and yet I was always left to starve. Mind you but I used to be underweight 'cause of that.

Anyway ...! Dear ol' Zach thought I had gone psychopathic when little 'Miah showed him the dead animals' corpses, so he made sure he worked me over. And, of course, Lila made sure of that as well. And as if those injuries weren't enough, Jeremiah saw this as a perfect opportunity to leave the circus. He started spreading rumors about me kickin' and punching him, feeding my mom and uncle with funny stories about me threatening his life, when the truth is I never touched a hair of his. For him, those were the stories that were gonna get him out of that damned place we so called home. For me, those were the stories that were gonna ruin my life. Even though I tried to defend myself they never believed me, because after all I was the animal abuser while he was the perfect innocent son, with his little nerdy hamster glasses and fancy books and puzzles. And let's just say, it didn't end well for me when he would randomly bring up something that didn't even happen. He had totally brainwashed them and I was lucky if I could get away with just a slap or two. But they didn't abuse me just physically... verbally as well. The amount of times I heard them planning my murdering were countless. And maybe they should have done it. Maybe they should have murdered me. Instead, they used to remind me every single day that I was such a heartless psycho monster who's gonna cause nothing but disaster. Well, I guess they weren't exactly wrong with that one. I mean, just look at me now..." he narrowed his eyes.

"Nobody ever stood up for me. Nobody cared. Nobody. They always managed to cover it all up, they always told me to smile once they were done. I was known as Haly's Circus little sociopath. And Jeremiah? They'd always make sure he was treated right, that he got the best stuff, while I could be freezing at night and they wouldn't even notice.

On our 9th birthday our uncle decided to take Jeremiah to the city away from me so he could celebrate his birthday properly and left me with my mom and her partner at the time. The got drunk and had sex all day, not caring that I was in the same room, beating the shit out of me afterwards. And when I had finally managed to get out of that hell of a trailer, my father ―I didn't know he was my father back then, but he knew I was his son― didn't even try to comfort me, he simply told me to suck it up because nobody cared. And he was right. This world indeed doesn't care about me or anyone else. But for a child? Damn, that hurt. And I suppose it's even sadder now knowing he was my dad...

Moving on, by the time we were almost 10 his lies got worse and worse, and so were the beatings. According to him I had tried to poison him and to light his bed on fire. One time he injured his knee when he fell on the ground, but later lied about me pushing him down the stairs. But the last straw was when he lied about me holding a cake knife to his throat on our 10th birthday. My uncle almost broke my ribs for that and my mom repeatedly kicked my stomach with her legs. Honestly, I can't really remember that day. All I know is that they decided it would be the best if uncle Zach took Jeremiah away while I was asleep. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pleased when I saw they both left, but little did I know that it was only gonna get worse for me.

Haly's Circus is a nightmare dressed like a daydream. A lot of fucked up things happened there. I hated that place. And with Jeremiah gone, she started drinking more and more, and got more aggressive. She got pissed at every little thing I did and made sure I received punishment. Did I forget to do that dishes? She'd kick me. Forgot to take out the trash? She'd slap me across the face. Didn't feed her snake? She'd punch me. Was breathing too heavily for her liking or my existence simply bothered her? She'd beat me till my vision was blurry or till I coughed in my own blood. I did try to get help from the cops, but guess what! They didn't give 2 shits! Ya see, the system is so corrupt they don't care unless someone's been murdered. They made fun of me and I understood no one could ever save me, I was the only one that could free myself from the pain."

You stood quiet when Jerome removed his gloves. You hadn't seen his hands unclothed in a very, very long time. Last time you saw his bare fingers was before he died. His veins were more noticeable now, among with multiple half healed blueish bruises he had probably given himself. Seeing Jerome without his gloves felt like him breaking a wall between the two of you. Like he trusted you. Like he trusted you enough for you to see him at his lowest. He needed to trust you enough to tell you everything. The scarred man was silent for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to describe the next part of his story that made you feel like throwing up.

"On my 14th birthday one of Lila's hookers...how do I say this... one of her hookers touched me, Y/N. Like, parts he shouldn't have touched... And... she was there, watching. She didn't do anything to stop him, she didn't even try. I was crying and screaming and begging her to make him stop. She just laughed. Her awful witch-like laugh followed by her favorite line: ' shut up! boys don't cry! '. And afterwards she just left with him for the night and before that she told me to smile. Smile. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't feel my body. The only thing I could feel were his hands all over my body... To put it into words, I felt worthless and helpless. Smile," Jerome smiled weakly through the tears as he repeated his mother's words, hugging his own body, "Smile. I was smiling that night. I was smiling when I tried to kill myself. It was all too much, I couldn't handle it. My life was a living Hell I started to believe Hell itself couldn't be that bad. So... I just took a bunch of her pills and I thought that was it, I thought I was finally gonna die. I smiled because I thought everything was finally going to end. Sadly, I survived. After taking the pills I dropped down to my knees and then... I don't know. I can't really remember anything except the fact I woke up with a terrible headache. Did she notice? Nope. Did those pills have had an effect on me? Absolutely.

I didn't have anyone to comfort me anymore. Not that Jeremiah was ever a great comfort, but it was better than nothing. I didn't have any friends, 'cause who would wanna befriend the freak who tried to murder his twin and massacred tons of pets? And if anyone tried to get close to me I would push them away. Literally. Push them. Because what was the point in denying my violent urges? Everybody thought I was the villain already anyway."

Jerome paused to blow his nose into a handkerchief you handed him. You were at loss of words. This was a lot to process and Jerome's voice was now shaky. It was painful to hear his life story, it was painful to look at him now, to stare at the helplessness in his eyes. Tough people always have the most heartbreaking pasts.

"I used to cry myself to sleep every night, but I barely managed to fall asleep knowing that she could strangulate me when her snake in my sleep, and I low-key hoped she would so my suffering could end already. But when I did manage to fall asleep I ended up getting a... What was that called? Oh yeah, sleep paralysis. She was the demon suffocating me. Even now... I can't ever properly fall asleep. I'm always half awake. Actually forget I said that... Stupid! stupid...." he cried while gripping on his ginger hairs, scratching his thin pale skin with his sharp nails.

"Jerome," you whispered and took his hands in yours, "it's not stupid. Your emotions are valid. Please, carry on."

The boy nodded and did as you said, "At some point I just stopped talking because my body was hurting so much. I started isolating myself from everything and everyone. Because you see, people like me, we're put in this world for one thing: to suffer. The only thing that made the pain go away for a while was the thought of torturing her, cutting her open and feeding her snake with her organs then bathing in a pool of her blood and maybe sending her bones to Jeremiah. All I know is that I was so sick and tired of her calling me names and spitting on my face, beating me up till I bled, abusing me, banging my head against the wall, ripping my hairs off, punching me with her cold fists, slapping and pinching my skin, throwing empty alcohol bottles at me and kicking my bones. And when she was done with beating me, she'd always call over one of her sex partners to have some fun. I was tired of having to hear her moans as she was getting railed the next room. But I knew better than disturbing her, because if I did she'd invite her lovers to beat me too... or worse. I just had to keep quiet because if I behaved she'd leave me alone for a day or two.

But in time I got used to it. The beatings and all. It didn't even hurt that much anymore. The psychical wounds healed eventually, but the emotionally ones were always there. She didn't even need to get physical, her words were enough to torture me, they were like poisson. Her words cut deeper than a knife. When she wasn't the one hurting me I was hurting myself. That's so messed up, I know. But what isn't messed up about me or my life? I just couldn't help it. I had grown addicted to watching myself bleed. It's like... that was my only comfort. My sadness, my pain... Bugs. There were bugs on my skin, crawling on it. One second they were there, the next they weren't. I had to peel some of my skin off just to make sure. But I liked it. I think. It looked pretty. Such a pretty shade of red...! I could've stared at it for hours. Don't know if I was high or if I just had lost touch with reality. Or maybe both.

I just wished she would just kill me already and be done with it, 'cause it was better to be dead than to be alive and suffering. I just wished that everything would go quiet once and for all. My mind was like a prison I could not escape. My mind was the darkest place. The negative thoughts, they were always there. The voices telling me to do horrible things to myself. People screaming. A thousand voices howling in my head all the time. Dead people. I saw dead people everywhere. I couldn't control it.

Nobody cared about me, so who would've noticed if one day I just disappeared from this world? If one day I just stopped breathing? Definitely not her. If anything, she'd beat my corpse. I mean, she didn't even notice my first attempt.

That's what I told myself as I tried to slash my veins. But then I heard it," his face suddenly lit up, "That voice. The voice. The only comfort I ever had was that voice in the back of my head. That voice that grew louder as the years passed by. That voice that was giving me hope saying ' your day will come, your revenge will come, you just have to be patient '. And I had done my waiting. All the suffering, all the abuse I was forced to endure were about the end. I wasn't gonna let her win. Little did that whore know her beatings gave me strength and a high pain tolerance. Suddenly, all the fear I ever felt towards her turned into hatred and anger. She was going to pay for everything she had ever made me go through. People call me insane but they don't know my insanity gave me strength to save myself from that Hell I used to call home.

So, by the time I was 16 I had already started planning her murdering. I started working out and made better meals for myself so I'd be sure I was stronger than she was. I wanted to no longer be skinny. I had also made the perfect plan to kill her and get away with it.

So on my 18th birthday, like a birthday gift for myself, if you will, I grabbed an axe and chopped her off, hitting her repeatedly with it, digging it up and down into her skin. The first stab was the hardest one, but once I saw blood drawing out I just couldn't stop. I laughed as I did. Seeing her like that, lifeless and all covered in blood made me shiver in a good way. It was like feeling a brand new emotion. I was...happy? Entertained? I had finally given in that voice, I was finally free! That day I promised myself that I would come after my brother and uncle too, they also needed to pay for the way they'd treated me. And after that I'd be finally free to kill myself... I know how fucked up that sounds, but now that you know what they put me through, I hope you understand why I had to do it. There was no other way. One of us had to go. I killed her because she deserved it, self defense really. You get it, right? Tell me you get it, please."

You nodded while massaging his thumbs. His eyes were red and so were yours. You were both crying. Jerome couldn't believe he just told you all of that. He had never told anyone about any of that before. Did he say too much? Did you not want to be near him anymore?

"Jerome, I don't even know where to begin... you are such a strong person, really. You didn't deserve what happened to you. It wasn't your fault. You were just a child, none of this was your fault. No one ever treated you like a human being. No one ever gave you a chance. It's like you were forced to be evil, you didn't have a choice. They made you evil. They turned you into the villain. Of course you snapped eventually. I can't blame you. I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. No one ever gave you the chance to tell the full story. I wish I could take it away. All the pain, all the suffering... Oh, Jerome... I can't even begin to describe how bad I feel for you. Your heart has endured way too much at a way too young age. It's not you who is the monster. It's them. You had and have every right to kill them, I'll even help you. Jerome... I'm so proud of you for staying alive. Jerome, please remember that you matter. You matter to me. I see you, Jerome. I see you for who you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? You are a very, very handsome boy."

"Even with the scars?"Jerome smiled, his eyes puffy from crying. Not a threatening or disturbing smile. A genuine smile that made you smile too.

"Absolutely. Your scars just show how strong you are. Your scars make you prettier. I myself ain't a strong person but... I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, you've been through enough. And I won't let you hurt yourself either. Because I care. And you can trust me with anything, Jerome. Let me be the one person that makes you feel like home. Please." you got lost in his gaze. Words weren't enough to express what you felt. So you just hugged him. A gentle, loving hug. Jerome wasn't a touchy person in general, but he gave in and hurled himself into your warm embrace. Soon he was holding you so close to him like he was never going to let you go. Then he cried more. And louder. He cried on your shoulder and you patted his back. This was all new to him, he was still confused by the way he was acting. But it just felt right. He felt safe at last. He wondered if you were an angel sent from Heaven to rescue him. You scooped him up in your arms. Yours arms were tight around him, his head on your chest. He needed this. He needed to feel okay. He needed feel loved and accepted. You held each other for so long you could feel each other's breathing, and you weren't going to let go of each other anytime soon.

"Thank you for listening."

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

Hello, I just found your blog and after going through a lot of your posts/asks I completely agree with most of your opinions on HOTD ss2. I also wanted to ask your thoughts on the characterization of Aemond and Aegon this season. With Aemond there were a lot of disappointments for me in how the writer treated his character. I know the two nude scenes caused a lot of mixed opinions, but in my opinion, they were completely unnecessary and didn't contribute much to character building. Like Alicent's 3 sex scenes, I feel like the showrunner is just taking advantage of Olivia/Ewan's popularity. Aemond has very few lines, does not interact with anyone in his family, and we hardly know what he thinks about the events taking place. He is removed from the narrative and we hear about how others think of him rather than knowing what he really thinks. Him becoming a villain left a bad taste in my mouth because of the way the writer stuffed it and forced us to swallow it instead of finding a way to build it up properly. It makes me, an Aemond and Ewan fan, feel sad for effort that Ewan has put in just to receive little screen time and bad writing for the character he cherishes so much. With Aegon, even though I'm not a fan, I found him very interesting right from season 1. And in this part, I think the writer has put in effort to compensate for what is considered to be worsening the character's image. Overall, Aegon in ss2 was received very well and he won the sympathy of the majority of viewers in the fandom. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts, ss2 disappointed me a lot and I have very little hope for the second half of the season, but I still look for reviews in the fandom because it's still a highlight for me after every episode.

Good day/night!

The way Aemond has been treated this season is awful indeed. Of all the Green characters he suffered the most (maybe along with Alicent) from the writers attempts (regrettably, successful ones) to divide TG and deprive them of common purpose and pretty much any affection for each other. The scraps of the latter we got (for example, those between Aegon and Helaena) might have gone unnoticed altogether for the majority of the viewers if not for the actors' interviews (and I doubt that many of GA folks have watched those anyway).

It seems that the writers decided to make Aemond into a "lone wolf", so to say: a person who, due to some kind of mix between arrogance and grievances suffered in the past, feels like he doesn't need anyone in this life because 1) everyone he searched love and compassion from failed him, 2) he is utterly confident in his ability to handle every problem that may arise on his own. I personally don't like the concept of Aemond being isolated from his family - but the main issue here IMO is not even the idea itself but the execution. While I'm not a fan of the brothel part either, I believe that those scenes could have fitted into his arc better - if not for the sloppy and neglectful manner in which this arc has been built. Skipping the important bits of Aemond's story (like reaction of his family members to Luke's death), making him indifferent to the murder of Jaehaerys and depriving him of the scenes that could have connected the different points of his emotional and psychological journey (mainly of the scenes with other Greens) - all of it makes it difficult to perceive the different sides his character is supposed to have.

Ultimately, as I see it, both Aemond and Alicent are treated by the show as tools for presenting the audience with the story of Westerosi feminism: the former - to uphold the image of "cruel men", the latter - to paint the image of a victim (who is also kind of responsible for her own suffering at the hands of men because she chose the wrong side).

As for Aegon, he's been the luckiest out of the Green characters storywise - but it doesn't mean that I'm satisfied with the show version of him. Dumbing him down, using him as a way to show how callous and cruel other Greens (specifically Aemond and Alicent) are - that's not the treatment I wanted for one of my favourite characters. I would even go as far as saying that if the Aegon we have seen in the show so far was the only Aegon I knew (without me having any knowledge of either source material or Tom's interviews or participating in fandom) he wouldn't be one of my favourite characters as I simply would have very little interest in him. Once again, in comparison with other Greens he's doing really well, but I can't help but feel that Aegon - and Tom - are also being used to create a character the audience can pity and to have a good shot at the Emmy campaign. And as soon as HBO guys get what they want (or if they don't get it), Aegon might be thrown under the bus just as easily as it already happened to Aemond after he attracted lots of attention to season 1.

To sum it up, the main issue of HotD is that HBO doesn't care for the characters and for the story: it cares for the hype, viewing numbers, reviews and awards. And with this kind of attitude it's difficult to expect any significant improvements in the quality of the show.

[moss-ridden-owl-creature]

Introduction Post :DD

I don’t know exactly how to do this but I’m doing it anyways!

‼️BEFORE THE INTRO: please do not ask me for donations. I am a minor and cannot donate, and I will not put your posts on my blog. I do feel sympathy but I simply can not donate. Do not send donation asks as hospitals and severe injuries often shown are VERY triggering for me and can send me into panic attacks.‼️

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Name: Call me N, Mike, Percy, Owl or Halskë :) (generally don’t care)

Age: 15+ (I’m a minor)

Gender: Non-binary (pronouns: any except for neos)

Orientation: biromantic & Demisexual :)

Religion: Hellenistic & Nordic pagan (Greek & Norse deities. Probably won’t post often about this stuff but I do reblog things relating to it) (No, I am not interested in converting, don’t try it. Believe me, the Mormons at my school have tried.)

I’ll post my art once in while! Nothing on my blog in terms of interests is set in stone, but you will often see art from fandoms I’m in, or of my ocs/fursonas!

theriotype: Tundra wolf! (Spiritual) hearttype: border collie! (Spiritual)

kintypes: Cryptidkin, dragonkin, crowkin! (These are either spiritual or/and emotional.)

Serial Designation N (MD) & Micheal Afton (FNaF) fictionkin! :D

‼️‼️IMPORTANT‼️‼️ I am overall chill with SD-N doubles! But please know, Micheal doubles (especially if you mention it in a kind of trying to be friends/moots with me sort of way), I AM WARY. I generally don’t wish to interact with Mike doubles as it makes me mildly uncomfortable. I will not engage in DMs, questions, ETC. with you. I’m sorry! (This is specifically for Micheal Afton doubles.)

Some form of relation/connection to the FNaF franchise besides a kintype. Potential hearthome or idk maybe I’m just sad about my family lmao (damn. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say in regards to the Aftons.)

THIS IS NOT A ROLEPLAY BLOG. THIS IS PURELY MY THOUGHTS AND DUMB SHIT. THAT WILL INCLUDE MY FICTIONKIN EXPERIENCES.

Fandoms: Grishaverse, Riordanverse, The MCU, Good Omens, The Folk of The Air, Murder Drones, FNaF, The Dream SMP (yes, I know some of the CCs are bad people, I supported very few of them. Tommy, Ranboo, Tubbo, Phil, and Techno were the only ones I actively watched outside of lore streams. This was a hyperfixation of mine and I am still very willing to talk about it because suddenly it’s been revived on Tumblr and now my page is full of C!Clingy duo. Please talk to be about it, I loved it and still do.) The Lunar Chronicles, The Hunger Games, The Song of Achilles, EPIC: The Musical, Aru Shah, Hamilton (technically), Warriors, Avatar: TLA, Iron Widow, The Furry fandom, and many others! (These are in no specific order)

I’m a batshit insane Kaz Brekker simp lol :)

Other things: I’m a furry (my fursona is named Halskë! I will post about these things.) I am diagnosed with ADHD, Slytherin, Cabin 7 (Apollo), I’m a fan of bones and taxidermy :) I also bow hunt large game such as antelope, deer, elk and big horned sheep :)

C!Technoblade (DSMP) kinnie! (Not a kintype!Just relate to the character:) )

Milo Rossi (Miniminuteman) fan :)

I am a diehard FNaF fan. I will talk about it for HOURS. I love FNaF. Mention it and I will vibrate at a frequency strong enough to shatter glass. So yes, please talk to me about it :)

DNI: Basic haters, trans-homo-or otherwise LGBT-phobic people, pro-Nazis, zoos, racists, or fans of The Human Centipede (Gives me PTSD-like triggers.) Those who are “Nordic Myth” kins of any type. (Marvel kins are not included. Y’all are fine.) & NSFW blogs specifically, I don’t care if you interact with me, but do not bring anything NSFW into my asks, I’m a minor and on the asexual spectrum and it makes me uncomfortable, thanks! :)

also please note, even if you are not in my DNI list, I do block freely, I do not stand for people who are constantly pessimistic. I don’t care if you’re pessimistic in general, myself am a realist, but what I mean by that is if you are more than 80% of the time just a negative being, I will most likely not interact with you. I am endo neutral. Don’t bring discourse to me.

another thing! My content is considerably 13+ (I will not respond to asks if you under 12 years old, as it makes me uncomfortable because tweens scare me.) and if you are older than 25, do not interact with me (EX: asks. The exception for this would be like if I follow you and send you an ask.), as you are between 10-5 years older than me. (The under 12 rule does not apply to those who are regressors, and regressors ARE allowed to interact with my content, but be warned, not all of my content is suitable for littles, be safe!)

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[his-red-right-hand]

What do you think Danny’s childhood was like/took place at? I personally head cannon him as being from PA due to the hunting culture and he seems to gravitate more east coast. It would make sense if his mom was dead/disappeared, but somehow we was able to go through the education system normally.

*slaps Danny on the back* This asshole can fit so much childhood trauma in it. *is visciously stabbed to death*

Moving on, we know that Danny has at least spent some time in Utah as that's where his driving licence is registered. Being a Brit I don't know a huge amount about the individual states beyond stereotypes, but given Danny's utter hatred of "regular everyday folks", Utah makes sense. Being surrounded by that many Mormons will drive anyone to murder.

Our boy has an antisocial personality type, which by itself does not make a murderer. The other two components are Male and Child Abuse.¤ And Danny was raised by a Vietnam War vet with a Mother who was either entirely absent for some reason; or was there but had so little impact or involvement with his life that she is basically a nonentity to him.

We know his father wanted him to join the military, raised him to succeed in it. I already have my issues with military training for adults, but as a way to raise a child? The only surprise we should have in regards to Danny murdering his fagher is that it didn't happen sooner.

I imagine that his father's inability to let go of the military was some sort of attempt at a coping mechanism against PTSD, probably combined with a fair amount of self medication.

I'm certain there would have been hunting trips/"wilderness training" from a young age. How old do you think he was when he made his first kill?

Danny at school, I imagine, would be a loner. He lacked the emotional grounding to be able to make friends, and we know he has explosive temper issues. I can see this turning into a sort of bad boy appeal as he grew older and learnt to charm and manipulate people around him. And like most narcissists, he can be very charming and likeable. If he wants something from you.

Tl;dr: Danny was physically and emotionally abused by his veteran father, who thought it was more important to teach his son to be a Warrior and a "Man" over how not to murder people for drawing a dumb comic making fun of his murdersona.

¤ We don't have enough cases of Female Antisocial Personalities being caught doing crime to do an analysis on them, which either means they do it less or they're good enough to not get caught.

[homosexualbehaviors]

Wenclair kisses headcanons?

Ooo I haven't really thought about that. I shall try my best to see what I may come up with! (Kinda Nsft. Nothing too crazy)

They kiss a lot. And I mean a lot. Like constantly. Though they try to keep it in the privacy of their dorm.

Again, scar kisses!! (I love them so much T~T)

Both of them have a weakness for neck kisses. Even the most innocent of them.

At first Wednesday hated the idea of kissing in public. But somebody (Willa) gets a little jealous when other people try to flirt with their paramour. Eventually she kissed Enid, straight on the mouth - truthfully, a bit aggressively- to prove that Enid was in fact not one to be hit on.

When they are intimate I think Wednesday would be the type to kiss just everywhere. Every inch of skin, to show she believes every inch of Enid is perfect and beautiful. Maybe she lingers and shows a little extra love to the wolf's scars just to further prove even the girls 'imperfections' are perfect to her.

Enid is a big fan of kissing Willa's thighs. (I will not elaborate *-*)

Enid is the type to kiss all over Wednesdays face just cause she can.

In my brain Wednesday like to cuddle up to Enid, most of the time with her face buried in the blondes neck, so she'll randomly leave little kisses there. Most of the time she doesn't even think about doing it, it's just second nature.

Collarbone kisses/bites. (Ahsgksha YES)

Enid likes to kiss Wednesday where she happens to be a bit more sensitive because she likes the way the dark girls breathing picks up or hitches or a little noise will slip past. (Safe to say she likes hearing a reaction out of her girl)

They both are a little too fond of marking eachother up. Enid doesn't mind the marking being visible on herself but Wednesday is a bit too modest, so the marks Enid leaves are for their eyes only.

They do share innocent little kisses throughout the day but refrain from being 'one of those couples' that eat eachothers faces in front of the whole school (though it has happened a few times while intoxicated 🤭 but the only people there were their friends)

Wednesday loves kissing Enid on the palm of her hand.

Wednesday has kissed Enid in front of the other furs at least once to prove a point. She knows she doesn't have to but it feels nice to see the looks on their faces.

Enid kisses Wednesday when jealous as well. She has rubbed it in Xaviers face many times. (Wednesday absolutely LOVES Enids jealous side)

For Enid kissing Ajax was nice but something always felt... off. She figured she felt that way because maybe she got her hopes up a little too high with what kissing him was meant to feel like. Then she realized she felt more looking at Wednesday than she ever did kissing Ajax. (Ensue a lot of confusion, inner turmoil, tears, a break up, a discussion, and finally, getting the girl *Woo, yay Enid! You go girl! So proud of you!*)

Wednesday on the other hand vowed to never kiss anyone again because the last person she kissed almost murdered the person she loved. That is until after break, when she saw Enid again and realized 'oh shit I don't just love her, I'm in love with her' (Ensue inner turmoil, denial, more denial, refusal, then finally acceptance -only after Enid confessed- and would you look at that, she got the girl too! *Woo, yay Willa! You go girl! So proud of you!*)

They smooch.

(Okay, I definitely got carried away there, haha. I really enjoyed answering that one!) (Small side note: I am completely open to answering any Nsft things, though I am not sure how well I'd do!)

Again, thank you for your question, anon! I enjoyed answering! Please fear not to ask more folks🖤

[been-around-seen-things]

CW: discussion of suicide

I’ve been mulling over a number of thoughts after eps 1-3 about Ed’s storyline, and I want to get them down before the new episodes come out, so here goes.

I’ve seen so many folks hard hit by Ed’s suicidality, needing to mind their mental health before rewatching, and—yeah. Folks who know me as a fic writer and who have read A Bug to Remember can glean some idea of where this topic has touched me. My own lowest time was literally two decades ago, so for me it’s not so much about that.

I just keep thinking about the okayness Ed performs in ep 2, which obviously isn’t entirely convincing, but nevertheless covers up that he’s already made his decision.

Which makes me think about someone I mentored and who died by suicide in 2019. Her name was Katie. I’m going to speak her name here because talking about her and thinking about her keeps her present for me.

Katie was deeply complicated, but, well, so is Ed, obviously. Ep 2 reminded me so vividly of her performance of okayness. She was professionally successful, organized, seemed to have it all together. I know others who also loved her have had the very natural “I should have known” reaction, but I don’t necessarily feel that way. For people like me whom she saw as mentors, she very deliberately hid the cracks, the pain, the suffering. Looking back on it now, I can see how our closeness was more about how much she made me feel comfortable sharing myself, while she remained pretty thoroughly walled off.

All of this makes me think about all the lies, the terrible lies our brains tell us. I talked in sort of a jumbled way on Twitter about the stories Ed tells and tries to tell about himself. The stories we tell and believe about ourselves are so fundamental to our very existence, and Ed has so much trouble believing any positive story about himself.

We first see him trapped in the narrative of Blackbeard, in which he is a “ghost.” He imagines himself as Stede Bonnet, but that’s a violent story with an intended murderous end. Jeff the Accountant is a story that’s fun at first, but the fallout just ends up hitting him where he’s most sensitive, his deepest feelings of unworthiness.

The most believable story for him is the Kraken. Clearly he wants something else, but it feels like literally the only option.

He tries to imagine himself as Jeff the Innkeeper, but he can’t keep from being a dick to himself long enough to even fully imagine how that story could play out.

His only positive stories, of course, are with Stede: first, playfully imagining himself as a chef, someone who can do anything. That one ends happily, albeit only temporarily—the brief dream of being co-captains. And then the possibility of running off to China together—but that’s an option that means Ed leaving his whole identity behind. It’s a running away, not an integration of the stories he carries. And then losing the possibility of that story—well, we know what happens.

And so. Here we are. Ed is alive, and he needs a new story that doesn’t cause himself and everyone else around him so much suffering. Ngl I had a real hard time on my first watch with how much pain there was all around. But that’s because, as always, this show is emotionally truthful even as the events are sometimes preposterous. I’m excited to see what other story possibilities are there for Ed. What he can find himself able to believe.

[dephirium]

Dephi's predictions.

Hello. A bunch of people a lot smarter than me have already analyzed aspects of the prologue but I am bored and I want to get my thoughts out. General who I think survives or kills, ideas of what is going to happen, questions set up, directions of character arcs — That kind of stuff. It is just word vomit.

This is going to age like milk fast, I bet (I wrote this after the prologue was released). Also warning I have bad memory so correct me if I got a fact wrong or something, I rewatched the prologue sleep deprived so I am bound to make mistakes.

Spoilers for the prologue and stuff. Duh...

Also beware swearing, unfunny humor and the obligatory ''I am not above biases and personal taste'' warning.

Holy shit this took a while to make.

Miscellaneous hopes / guesses

(Considering the game's heavy ties with religion, here's a small blurb on that) I am not into religion and I have enough religious trauma as is but I think it would be very cool if there was a trial that paralleled the Ark of Noe situation; Someone saving only themselves, who god has deemed worthy, and leaving the sinners to drown is kind of similar to the death game premise. Also a case paralleling the Adam & Eve situation would be a neat but obvious pick considering the game's emphasis on it in their symbolism and themes. Just. The murders having some kind of tie-in with religion itself would be so interesting even if only on subtext.

Wonder why they didn't try to break the windows in the whole ‘Panicking bcs the gas’ bit (I mean yes it is necessary for the narrative for the characters to be put unconscious but it seems weird that nobody even attempted it or addressed it after-the-fact, nonetheless. Specially considering that they specifically addressed how helmet-wearing Jett was knocked out). Though Damon was very quick to fall, so maybe they did try it after he was knocked unconscious. Ah also it is very unlikely they were out for more than a day or two (because there are actually a lot of semantics involved in taking care of someone who is unconscious / unresponsive — and none of them are pretty y'all). Or maybe they did. Who knows with Danganronpa logic /shrug

Also the train was mentioned to be worse for wear than expected. Chekov's gun tells me it wasn't the actual train for Eden's Academy and they just yoinked the cast before the real one could arrive. As to the people Grace saw, it is likely that they were the mastermind group (The paintings depict many animals which could mean a group instead of a individual / the deadass confirmation we get with the tree of ignorance folk), hence why the knocking agent was planted beforehand.

What if Eden's garden is literally just a facade for talent yoinkers to kidnap and make ppl kill each other and who survives gets roped into the group lol. /hj

THE FUCK IS THE LIQUID ON THE BASEMENT??? It is not water, as it appears to be non-conductive, is way too much to seem like oil... Just. That whole sequence in the boiler room was so fucking weird, man. Is it water but doesn't touch any electrical wiring (Despite, I believe, the cables being mentioned as exposed)? is it NOT water? WHY IS THIS RELEVANT. IS THE DEATH GAME BEING HOSTED CLOSE TO WATER?

How fucking long did Damon and Eva take to get to the kitchen lol? Because they saw Akire on the floor (That was Akire, right? I remember the shoes looking like formal-wear...) and bee-lined to the kitchen afterward. Even supposing that canonically Damon checked every basement door to spite Eva (which isn't very long because Damon kind of gets bored after a bit of checking each room / is actually very on character so probably he did thinking about it), that leaves like... 10 minutes, tops. It just reads as weird in my opinion. Wonder if that is going to be mentioned later on.

I saw the walkthrough because my laptop had a aneurysm trying to load the game, but like. The tree of ignorance room has these... Egyptian hieroglyphs (?) Looking things that make me think that that's what going to open after each chapter / death. They look like mall stores what the fuck is this place (also it appears to have a second floor for what I remember ?)

Mara and Cara are very similar names. Wonder if they are related or something (they also both share a motif of guns) lol.

It is very likely that this isn't the first killing game, as per Cara's situation. However, it is very likely that it was a student council situation (meaning a "no trial just kill each other'' kind of deal), which would explain why Cara had a gun (because so far we haven't seen anywhere on the killing game ground that has access to fire weapons) and how the fuck the killer got away with such a simple killing plan.

Also considering the fact that all the cast calls Cara's murderer a man (idk why if gender neutral pronouns exist but ok) and that Tozu exists, it could be likely that he was Cara's murderer, and he won his killing game. or something. This also could explain why Tozu wanted them to solve how the culprit did it and not who the culprit is — He probably already knows who it was.

Considering what I said about Mara and Cara being similar, it kind of fits. That or he's related to a character of the cast. Maybe Wolfgang, considering his sheep-adjacent mask. Or both idk

It is very unlikely there's a mastermind amongst the students (kind of duh considering Tozu's whole ordeal, but still). However that doesn't remove the possibility of a traitor.

Speaking of, the death game grounds seem... Small? Like sure there's the living quarters, the "outside" and the tree of ignorance and they are somewhat big in their own right, but it just feels. Small in the context of official Danganronpa games. It is likely a engine limitation / self-imposed limitation for the devs sanity, probably, because doing a bigger environment would be more troublesome, but nonetheless I'm excited to see how they utilize the space. Maybe the areas that will open up in the tree of ignorance will help freshen things up.

GUESSES I HAVE FOR KILLING THINGS:

The locks in the living grounds are likely to become relevant in a trial (Probably the first), likely locking the cast out while the murderer is still inside? For what I remember the people who woke up on the tree of ignorance are not aware of the locks existence (Living quarters / outsiders are, however - Toshiko used them after all) and that could be weaponizable information in the trial.

I am super sure a death happens in the outside's fancy marble thingy and it will be beautiful and tragic.

Damon Maitsu

The vent connecting the boiler room to the kitchen is SO fucking obviously to be used as a killer's escape route I almost expect it to not be used just to spite us.

Start of prologue: Togami kinnie?

End of prologue: DAMON STOP UNLEASHING YOUR INNER TOGAMI GODDAMMIT

I have seen people speculating that Damon is going to die and there's going to be a Kaede / Shuichi protag switch, but honestly? I don't really see that happening considering the prologue already set up a very interesting character arc for him. BUT, I do see likely that there's a Komaeda chapter 4 situation where there's a POV switch for a bit with either Eva or Akire, most likely Eva because of her status as co-protag and/or sidekick.

Nonetheless, it is obvious that Damon is going to go through a character arc so he stops being such an ass to people. I love the guy but yes he needs to be knocked down that unhealthy mindset of his.

Because of his isolation from his peers it is likely that his motives to kill, if there are any, are family driven (It is also likely the fuck has heavy family issues because he kins togami too hard and that asshole didn't have a good relationship with his parents neither) the killing motives are likely to give us the context as to what nurtured this fuck’s god/inferiority complexes. Also because of this he would have the "protag doesn't have that big an incentive to kill" motive detachment like mister I Pissed The Bed Makoto Naegi.

Also people who are unable to see a nuanced / different take on the protagonist like Damon or Teruko on Despair Time without calling them names or misreading their characters pisses me off SO much, specially with Damon (Teruko is a different can of worms I am not opening today tyvm) because I am able to sympathize with him as someone ND who at some point decided to isolate from others and put this front of being a purely logical zero puny emotions individual because logic was just easier than facing complicated emotions I wasn't taught how to express and / or would be berated for. He's a interesting character a great deviation of the goody-two-shoes protagonist trope. I can't wait to see what they do with him and see him suffer and earn friendships with the cast.

Eva Tsukasa

I could go into detail but I am not that eloquent and other people have talked about it better. Here is a blurb-analysis of Damon in general and here is a analysis of him through the neurodivergent lens. Any opinion I have about the bastard is vocalized better by those two ngl (Eternity's Damon fics are also very good!) . I'll probably do my own separate blog about him if I have the energy, but I feel like I would just repeat points made better by other people.

Start of prologue: Pls don't be Kirigiri

End of prologue: PLS DON'T BE KOKICHI

Eva had a rough beginning because the first impression she gave was Kirigiri kinnie vibes and fun fact i fucking hated kirigiri on dr1 so i wasn't liking where this was going. That changed around 5 dialogues in with her saying she bridal carried Damon, which made me less prone to hate her on pure instinct. She's interesting! I like her a lot. I like the way that she and Damon share their pessimistic pragmatism and are the only two to shut down the whole buddy-buddy prospect; They both are very similar in a lot of ways, almost like character foils (but not quite — That's Akire) in a certain way. I cannot wait to see what they do with her talent, one of the most interesting ones I have seen in any fangan (though I do find it kinda dumb and a bit on the nose in a light hearted way).

Now onto the biased opinions — I think they shoot her shot way too early. While, yes, I found it very interesting that they didn't beat around the bush and didn't do the "ult ???" thing (I kinda find that troupe obnoxious at this point), I do view the fact that Eva's ultimate was revealed this early a very odd writing choice (and the reveal a bit clunky in personal writing taste). A good way to create intrigue and tension since the prologue to get the audience hooked, but I do wonder how do they plan to utilize her and this early reveal. In fact, if anything, this early reveal and her Eve motif - who doomed both her and Adam out of heaven's gates, and is literally implied to be bad since her conception out of Adam's left rib - make me wonder if she's being set up in a Rantaro fashion, and she'll be the reason the game starts (probably victim). I kinda hope not. She's an interesting character even if I believe that the most relevant part of her narrative was given far too early (although I do want to know how tf is Liar an ultimate talent).

Diana Venicia

Start of prologue: animal crossing character core

End of prologue: ... Are you a traitor lol?

She's a sweetheart and I don't trust it. With her sweet persona and her chameleon theming, she just screams killer red flags to me. I am unsure when exactly would she crack, but I think it would be kind of early on, like chapter 1-3 type of early. I think bears mention that everyone and their mom has called out the fact that Kara's dummy is way too realistic and her talent would enable to pull out that feat.

I don't see her being a particularly important blackened on the grand scheme of the narrative (unless she's in kahoots and she's like a traitor or whatever) but it would serve to show everyone the severity of the environment and how even the nicest person can crack against it.

The idea of yassifying a corpse to hide/obfuscate details of the cause of death or whatever is literally so so cool and I want it to happen so bad. But her and Kai's possible blackened situations (spoiler I do view both as killers as it makes the most thematic sense) seem a little too similar so probably if one is a killer the other will not.

Toshiko Kayura

Start of prologue: Hiyoko looking ass

End of prologue: Is your mouth fucked girlie

SIMILARLY, I don't trust the child. I am not sure why. She's good tho! I find her interesting enough for the setting and the prologue has set up enough with her character that I look forward whatever they want to do with her (and her formal way of speech is charming haha). I just hope it isn't a generic ''oh the kid is actually insane lol'' kind of deal as I am honestly tired of the Monaka twist, but I do see her being traitor adjacent at the very least. I don't see her killing (or, well, I hope™ she doesn't kill) but I can see her as a victim, probably in around chapters 3-4. I think the cast would try to be careful with her because she is the youngest of the group and that ends up being, partially, one of the reasons of her death. Everyone will be horrified if she does die.

Drawing it in the sand that her parents hated each other or something (or divorced), one had a meltdown and hurt her for whatever reason, hence why she uses her fan on her mouth. It'll probably become relevant later in her respective trial. Also this is the reason why she's a matchmaker.

Something something the bible story of Abraham being told by god to kill his child Isaac to prove his faith something

Cassy + Wenona

Start of prologue: Communism? / YOU'RE SO PRETTY

End of prologue: Oh so MrBeast then / Step on me!

Putting these two together because 1) I don't have much to say about them and 2) they are probably being used as character foils of one another so because of that my thoughts about them are interconnected. Here's my opinions of them:

Cassidy is... Okay. I like her well enough, she had her witty lines (the ace attorney reference was fun), and she feels cohesive enough for the setting and the other characters to not feel entirely out of place. Nonetheless, she is somewhat... irrelevant? Like, all her cards were played on the prologue itself, and there's no real way I can see her character becoming more relevant on the future or have any interesting development; She is a fun character, but not one I find interesting or relevant for the narrative. More like needing to fill lines because people need to die, probably. Her theming with spiders and that one sprite can prove me wrong, tho. Not saying she will kill, but that probably there's something else I am missing? (Addendum: this has taken me so long to write I had time to sit on my thoughts on Cassidy and I realized I kinda don't like how offhandedly mean she is lol. You know. Calling Damon bargain bin lawyer like that isn't an insult to his entire line of work and personhood and disguising it as a joke and all lmao. Wonder if this will be called out further down the line? Could be an interesting point of development for a otherwise stagnant character)

Wenona is interesting! Her design caught my eye since the train fuckery, and it made me deeply interested in her (also I like women so I am biased probably lol) and what her talent would be. While I kind of don't see how her appearance would convey the “ult entrepreneur” title all too well, I do forgive it because otherwise it is so fucking interesting and I am absolutely obsessed (and it's not fault of the writing and probably just personal taste of mine). Her possible character arc is a lot more obvious than Cassidy's, and ironically mirror Damon's "stop treating people like shit" own (Damon asking what is her deal when they are both assholes about talent and worth is very funny). I hope we get more information about her job and how she got where she is now are revealed because I am genuinely interested in her character trajectory and the parallels to the protagonist. Or maybe she stays in girlboss mode idk I wouldn't mind either way she can step on me regardless

I guess that in around chapter 2-3 Cassidy and Wenona are going to start to clash badly because of their different economic ideals (they probably clash on chapt 1 too but it is after a murder that things get worse as everyone becomes paranoid as hell). My guess is that they either end up killing each other or someone else uses the animosity to frame the kill on one of them.

I see Wenona having more chances of survival because so far Cassidy is kind of a (relatively) flat comedic character and doesn't have that many notes of character development / interesting said pieces. But I wouldn't be against her surviving to be honest. She's fun.

Grace Maddison

Start of prologue: SOYBEAN

End of prologue: You're literally a pacing risk huh

She's... a mixed bag. For one part, I like the fact that she raised a valid point in the trial despite the fact that she has been considered nothing more than the hotheaded, "stupid" vulgar one of the group. It gives her a decent amount of depth so far and makes me interested to see more of her. In the other... She's like disguised-Mukuro in dr1 for me, ngl. She's interesting, I can admit that, but definitely not a character I get too excited about (she's a bit annoying to me). Except I worry about how are they going to deal with her on trials, considering the fact that they had to literally knock her out on the mock trial so it could progress in a decent pacing (Which I kinda called out when I first saw her in the kitchen, but I thought she would've been a mukuro situation, details). Or maybe she dies first, which would be a shame ngl.

Wolfgang Akire

As she stands she seems to me like a pacing-risk character and it makes me worry about how they are going to use her going forward, although the fact that she was literally almost killed will probably chill her the fuck out while on trial. I just hope the writers manage to balance the fact that she's vulgar but not stupid as fuck. Oh and her and Akire's dynamic is very funny I love that

Trailer: Oh you get pegged™

Start of prologue: [Lost my shit laughing when I found he was called Wolfgang lol]

End of prologue: Unhinged bitch!! /pos

I like the parallelism of him and Damon! The attorney and the prosecutor, emotions and logic, the leader of the group (seemingly) and the social pariah. Akire is a character that works because in any other Danganronpa setting, he would be the protagonist. But the thing is this: He is not, here. This allows us to see raw sides of him that otherwise we wouldn't have — or that, in turn, we would have context for.

The mock trial meltdown works because we, as an audience, are seeing him through another person's (probably biased) perspective. The lack of interpersonal context of his thoughts or actions makes the slip of his calm demeanor to yelling—begging, almost—for reasoning of the killer's actions all the more jarring.

Anyhow thesis out of the way here are more thoughts:

This set up could not be achieved without Akire being the role he is, an antagonist for the mere factor that his entire existence is an antithesis of Damon's persona. But unlike the debater, who hides the fact that he cares and craves human connection, the lawyer hides a far uglier underside that he doesn't expose unless he is in familiar territory — His area of expertise, in fact — The courtroom. Quite literally, his territory, his area of expertise, his playground; He is confident in his abilities until he is quite literally denied the closure he craves for a killer's despicable actions against a ultimate.

In more ways than one, he, like Damon, probably has a god complex because of his title / the ultimates. He just demonstrates it... Subtly. He is the textbook example of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Akire ends up killing I am like 70% sure of this. He's too unhinged, and we never had a rival who did commit a murder themselves on DR so it would be interesting? (Kokichi doesn't count). Also the "28 STAB WOUNDS" man committing a murder himself would be a interesting prospect, with the wolf in sheep's clothing themes he has going on; Specially considering that he is most likely going to become one of the surrogate leaders of the class.

Calling him out as the killer would probably generate a Mikan-esque situation (Not like Kai's levels of bad but more born out of respect and lie-ridden logic than pity/empathy hard emotion bait) of nobody believing Damon and it sounds fun. It would be an interesting prospect considering Damon's possible "getting people to trust me after isolating myself and overcome my own biases" character arc. What better way to make a climax for such than to go against the leader of the group and getting people to trust you despite the odds?

Oh also it is very likely a relative of his (probably his dad) killed a important woman in his life (probably his mom. Or like, someone else killed her and was never caught or something idk pick your poison mom dead either way) and that's why he became a lawyer / has such strong sense of justice and the reason why he had that more-or-less breakdown on the mock trial.

Some other stuff I won't go into detail

This is the dump of other things I wanted to mention but I am too low energy to dwell onto and I don't want to procrastinate on this draft more than I already have (ITS BEEN A YEAR SINCE I STARTED THIS)

Anyhow:

I view that Kai would also be a killer, using his charisma in the same way Diana would (in a very Mikan way, as he's used to playing his audience like a fiddle and fishing out emotional responses) but in a more hardcore manner. That and the fact that Kai has latched to Damon from the first second of the prologue, it's probably setting up the fact that Damon will need to bring down Kai for the sake of the truth - and probably the first example of hesitance as Damon will probably grow to be "friends" with the guy, having to fight puny emotions he never had before (not particularly romantic, but like. Damon purposefully isolated from peers, so having friends would be odd to him, especially since I think that Kai is getting close to him for self interest). I deem this happening very late, and probably a chapter before Akire kills, as it would be a decent pacing from progression of severity ("friend" social person using the group -> the literal leader of the class)

Jett and Mark are also being set up as foils to each other (or at least the closest thing to that. A really pronounced character dynamic I guess), and the fact that just like Toshiko's mouth Jett off the suit is not shown in the prologue nor any outside material makes it obvious that it'll be a plot point later down the line (if I recall the most popular theory - or maybe mentioned in the prologue, I don't remember - is that he got burned to hell in a car accident mid race?), which makes me think that Jett is not going to be a survivor for the same manner - specially since those two are in the path of having a character arc together and the tragedy of demise needs to be written. Mark is maaaybe going to survive in his stead. Similar to Cassy, Jett reads to me as a comedy character mostly so he's more expendable in that regard. Without mentioning the fact that Mark had the bitchface(tm) look in the train scene, which implies that something is going on with the guy (either referent to the train/the kidnap group, or Mark knows Damon from somewhere. It'd be funny if they were classmates or someshit and Mark couldn't stand Damon's ass back then please p:eg team it would be so funny)

Jean has so many death flags (WHY ARE YOU SWEARING TO PROTECT THE GROUP YOU ARE THE BIG CHARACTER IN A FANGAN YOU'RE NOT SAFE) and I am literally so fucking sad because I actually really like the guy. Like, I don't have any relevant notes of how he's written or implied of him or anything (although I have personal thoughts of his backstory which I included in the fic I made of Damon and the guy), he's a decent character. I just wanted to scream about the fact that I am 80% sure he doesn't survive and I will forever cry about it. Same with Ingrid.

Ulysses is being set up as relevant as a notekeeper (which is really cool!!!! I haven't seen that in a fangan before I don't think), but I sadly do think that anything relevant from his notes might be discovered post-mortem, either relevant to the killing game as a whole or the case that might have him as a victim. My dude is literally falling asleep standing I am deadass so worried for his safety.

I don't have anything remarkable to say about desmond or swan girl (I forgot her name sorry) besides the fact that swan girl is being kinda set up as the "oh the cinnamon roll killed someone", and "the shy girl is actually very dangerous" which I am not particularly mad about even if I deem a bit cliché at this point. I hope Desmond doesn't die tho he is cool.

That's everything. Sorry for taking forever on this shit I am not the greatest writing consistently

[vids-rdr2-artblog]

Saving Mary-Beth

I wanted to write a little fic where Kieran shows off that he’s not really a coward and saves Mary-Beth after she’s been kidnapped. I might write a second part that’s just pure fluff. 

Pairing: Kieran and Mary-Beth

Trigger Warnings: Violence against women, Murder, Abuse, Time period sexism. 

(Please do not read if you are sensitive on these topics!)

7,203 words

Thank you @glenechoslasher for beta reading for me <3

Read it on AO3

***

Mary-Beth ventured into Rhodes with Mr. Pearson, having volunteered for the task for many different reasons—she loved to check and see if there were new books or authors listed in the newspaper and to simply get away from Miss Grimshaw. There was this relief that prickled the back of her neck when she knew that the woman wasn’t right there, breathing down her neck in the back of the wagon, and there was a sense of freedom seeing the open roads rather than their crowded camp. 

Pearson talked the entire way, so Mary-Beth didn’t bring a book, as much as she’d rather drown herself in words rather than his nonsense. This man probably had his lungs stored in his stomach or had a second pair because Mary swore she never saw him take a breath between his sentences. But she listened to him anyway, glad the trip between Rhodes and Clemens Points wasn’t long. 

“I’m glad you like to listen to me, Miss Mary!” Pearson said, sounding genuinely excited, which did make her feel good in some way, “Sometimes the others don’t like to listen to my stories, but you’re a good girl, Mary-Beth. When people say someone doesn’t have a mean bone in their body, you’re who I think of. I should take you on trips more often!” He laughed.

Mary-Beth became flustered and nodded, not wanting to say anything to bring down the mood of the jovial man, “Of course, Pearson. I think I read something in a book once about a brave navy man who sorta reminds me of you.”

Pearson perked up. “Oh? What book?”

Mary-Beth thought of a quick lie, a finger to her chin, “I don’t remember because it was so long ago, but if I find or remember it, I’ll tell you immediately!”

“Thanks, Mary. I’m not sure if I’d read it or not, but it’s great to see when great men are recognized.”

Pearson’s smile grew as he flicked the reins of the horse a bit more vigorously, and eventually, they reached Rhodes. It was sometime around 1pm, not too early and not too late into the afternoon. Thanks to Arthur being deputized here in Rhodes, she didn’t fear the lawmen as much as she did in Valentine and didn’t worry that they would be watching her every move. The folks here were a lot calmer and some of the women actually waved to her as she passed by. Welcoming, really. But man did she hope that the people of Rhodes didn’t think that she and Pearson were man and wife. A feller could get the wrong idea seeing them arriving on the cart together. She supposed however that if they had to hide their identities that way, then she would have to go through it even if she didn’t like it. Though her inner reader was curious and she had wondered how a romance between a couple with the likeness of them would interact. The girl did have a wild imagination, after all. 

Pearson parked the wagon next to the general store and the two climbed down, meeting at the back of the wagon. It seemed that they came at the right time because the train had just reached the station, its whistle blowing in the air. The man put his hands on his back and stretched his body, Mary hearing a few pops as she did so. He whistled at the store, “I’d love to have one of these puppies sometime. I think it would be exciting to run a shop like this!” he said excitedly before turning toward their empty wagon. He took out pieces of parchment from his pocket and handed one to her but kept the other for himself. “Alright then, I’ll have you get the stuff that we need from the general store and then I’ll go over to the butcher for some real meat. Arthur’s been good at gettin’ money for us, but he ruins a lot of the meat he brings to us, skinnin’ them himself…Plus I want something other than venison once in a while…” He grumbled mostly to himself then resumed, “You got all that?”

Mary-Beth nodded excitedly and held the note to her chest, “I got it, Pearson. When I’m done, I’m going to go find the newspaper boy, OK? I want to see if there’s been any new releases or authors.”

“Sure, sure.” Pearson nodded then took money from his pocket, “Here’s the money from the box. Buy ONLY what’s on the list or else Dutch will have our heads. You shouldn’t have to pay the men to put everything in the wagon, so let me know if they try to trick you.” He pointed a finger. “I’ll meet you back in an hour, Mary-Beth. An hour.”

“An hour, yes. Will do, Pearson.” Mary-Beth smiled and glanced over the list. Most of what he had put was canned vegetables and fruits, bread, and luxuries such as tea, cigarettes, and chewing tobacco. She was surprised to not see ammo on the list but some of the other gang members probably took care of that separately from a simple grocery trip. 

Taking the list to the man behind the counter, “Hello, I have a pretty big order to put in, can I get some men to help load some crates and put them on my wagon?” “Sure can.” The clerk pushed the catalog to her and she pointed out everything she needed and read off the number that was on the list. Reading it to him also gave her the comfort that she wouldn’t be scammed because she was a woman. Most men assumed that women couldn’t read, so she made sure to show that she could. “When do you think you could take it out to the wagon?”

The man answered as he rang her up on the cash register, “Oh, you’ll be able to load it immediately. We’re actually well-staffed, and my young men will be able to help ya. Maybe about fifteen minutes.” He smiled and told her the amount she needed to pay. 

Mary counted the bills and handed them to the man. She double checked the change before pocketing it. There would always be a side of her that believed anyone was capable of scamming her only because she was the type of person to do the scamming herself. She leaned against the counter with her hands, “It’s the wagon parked out next to the store. My companion is over at the butcher’s and he might come back in time to help out too. Do you need me to wait here, or could I go on another quick errand?”

“My boys will start putting your order together now and start loading on yer wagon. They’re fine boys too, I ain’t never had to swat them once. So you can stay and watch or come back when we’re done.”

Mary-Beth smiled and nodded, pushing off the counter, “Thanks sir, I won’t be too long. I just want to grab a newspaper. Do you know where it’s at?”

“Oh, the boy likes to move around town, but I think I spotted him toward the saloon, if you know where that is.”

“Uh huh, I do sir. Thank you!” Mary-Beth pocketed everything and left the general store. After taking a quick glance over to the butcher’s and seeing that Pearson was still busy haggling with the butcher, Mary-Beth headed toward the saloon with a chipper smile on her face, comfortable walking around the town by herself since it didn’t feel dangerous at all. 

As she headed up the road and toward the saloon, she kept her ears open for a newspaper boy, announcing the next paper but heard nothing. Maybe he sold out that day…Damn…Maybe the saloon had a copy that she could borrow for a couple of minutes.

Mary-Beth placed her hand on the door to the building but it didn’t budge. Damnit. Locked. Were they closed or was she just at the wrong entrance?

Making her way along the side of the saloon, she kept her eyes on the windows, trying to spot anyone inside. There wasn’t, and from the little that she saw of the bar, she noticed that even the bartender was out. It was strange to see the saloon closed at such a weird hour of the day, but maybe all towns acted differently than each other, and maybe not everyone here was a stupid drunk. 

Mary-Beth came around the back end of the saloon and just as she did, she heard voices. She instantly hid along the edge of the house. Two Irish-speaking men had a man wearing an apron held against the wall, a gun at his abdomen. Down at their feet was the body of a younger man. Dead. Mary-Beth looked behind her and realized that she had been so busy looking into the windows that she hadn’t noticed the blood trail right under her shoes. She had walked into a murder scene in the making. 

Mary-Beth’s instincts told her to flee. Just seconds after she saw the scene, she turned to leave, her jaw clenched shut. But someone was there now. She met the stale breath and before her stood a man. Then, there was a blinding pain above her left eye, right on her temple, his arm casting a shadow over her. Blood poured out from the gash on her head immediately. She hadn’t been knocked out immediately, but she fell back enough that the men behind the saloon noticed and dropped the man in the apron. She tried to crawl away but there was pressure in her lower back as her attacker pressed his heel and spur there. “What do we have here?” The one who had held a gun to the man in the apron approached, using the butt of his gun to lift Mary-Beth’s chin, causing a searing pain slice through her forehead. He swatted her hand away when she instinctively went to touch it. She could barely think of words to say.

“A witness. I saw her peeking around the corner at the two of you.”

“Tsk. Tsk. I hate to kill such a pretty thing, but I did tell the dead feller over there that there would be no witnesses. I’d be a bad man if I didn’t keep my promises.”

Mary-Beth flinched when his thumb pulled back the hammer of his cattleman, cocking it. 

The third man pulled his shoulder back enough that he stopped the man from shooting Mary-Beth. It took the woman a few seconds to realize that her brains hadn’t been splattered along the ground and that she was alive. 

“Wait a second there, I think I recognized her. I think I saw this woman in that livestock town with that shitty Arthur Morgan once. She might be a part of the Van Der Linde gang.”

Mary-Beth’s blood ran cold. Were these Irishmen O’Driscolls? She was in trouble…

The man with a gun whistled and looked down at Mary-Beth with hungry eyes. “Well, will ya lookie here. A simple armed robbery is turning into a gang heist. I won’t even ask you if you’re a part of the gang. If you are, then they’ll come save you. If you aren’t or if they’re dumb enough to save such an insignificant whore like yourself, then we’ll just kill ya. We won’t be wasting any of our supplies because we won’t feed ya. How does that sound, bitch?” He didn’t wait for an answer, not that she would have answered him in the first place, “Tie her up.”

“No—!” But before Mary-Beth could scream, her attacker kneeled right on her back where her lungs were, knocking the air from them. He shoved a nasty-tasting cloth in her mouth before tying her up with a lasso, pulling her arms behind her back. 

The O’Driscoll, with the gun, holstered it before he kneeled in front of her, sticking his finger into her blood, making the pain in her head significantly worse. She didn’t know what he was using her blood for but he kept pressing his thumb in the same spot before he finished whatever he was doing. “Take her to the horses, use the train to not be seen. And you…” He turned to the man with the apron, pointing his gun at him now, “Not another word of what happened here, yeah? We know where you work and where you live, so even if you blab about what happened here after we’ve left, we’ll come back and kill your family then force feed you their guts. Got that?” 

The man in the apron nodded, quickly disappearing inside, glad that his life had been spared, even if it cost this woman he didn’t know.

The last thing Mary-Beth remembered was being carried by the two men, one at her legs and one at her shoulders. With the throbbing headache she had, she was hardly able to squirm, and unable to scream. They carried her across the train and to their horses hidden on the other side. 

Who would save Mary-Beth?

Pearson returned the wagon and didn’t find Mary-Beth there. It wasn’t strange, considering she said he was going to track down the paperboy. Plus, it hadn’t been an hour exactly. So, he placed the carefully packaged meats and placed them on a crate that had already been loaded by the shop. He saw the boys bringing out a few more crates. 

One greeted him with a smile, “There’s just four more inside, sir.”

“Bring 'em’ out here and leave them on the stairs. I can get the rest of it from here.” Pearson took out two dollars from his own pocket and gave them each one for their hard work. They thanked him before bringing the rest of the gang’s provisions out and setting them at the top of the chairs. Pearson expected Mary-Beth to be back by the time he loaded up the last of the crates and strapped them down, but she wasn’t. 

She’s probably just talking to a local. She’s a good, chatty girl. We can’t go anywhere with the train being there anyway.

And so Pearson waited. And waited. The longer he waited, however, the worse he began to feel, especially when he heard the whistle of the train before it slowly left the station. There wasn’t quite anything right about this. Mary-Beth wouldn’t have told him one thing and then done another. Something must be wrong. 

“Mary-Beth?” he asked and looked down the alleyways around the general store and even the buildings surrounding it. Nothing. Wait, she did talk to the general store man, maybe he knows something. So, Pearson stepped into the building and walked straight up to the man, “Excuse me sir, my womanly…companion came up to you earlier to pay for the stuff that’s in the wagon next to your store. I can’t seem to find her though, did you happen to see where she went?”

The clerk cocked his head. “Oh yes, I did. She was looking for the newspaper, so I pointed her in the direction of the saloon.”

“Okay, thanks, sir.”

“No problem, thank you for your purchase, and have a good day.”

“You too.”

If Mary-Beth went to the saloon for a drink then it would make sense as to why she hadn’t returned yet. If she were a man. Mary-Beth was so…feminine and it didn’t seem to be like her to wander off for a beer or two. If it had been Karen with him instead, then there would be no doubt about it that she went out for drinks, but Mary-Beth didn’t do that sort of thing. Not to his knowledge, at least. 

Pearson made a quick trip to the saloon. He wasn’t sure if it had been busy beforehand but there were a couple men who looked more sober than the bartender themselves, so they must have just gotten there. 

“S’cuse me, you see a woman around here?” Pearson approached the bar and tried to ignore the hungry look in the men’s eyes when he said the word woman. 

The bartender looked drunk and dissociated from his job as he cleaned an already cleaned glass, only smudging it more. There was a nasty bruise on his eye, leading down to his jaw. Pearson wondered what happened to him. He probably shouldn’t have asked in the first place and just searched around the place himself. He only didn’t want to seem like a creep or worse, a thief. 

“Nope. Not around here.” 

“Alright, thank you kindly,” Pearson said without revealing much more to the conversation so the men who were drinking didn’t get any funny ideas. 

Pearson snuck around the side of the saloon before his stomach dropped. There on the ground was a drop of blood, leading to around the back of the saloon, accompanied by larger dried splotches of blood. His immediate thought was of Mary-Beth. Oh god, she’s dead! Mary-Beth is dead and I let her die! However, when he looked closer at the blood, he noticed that it wasn’t fresh and more dried up. He wasn’t an expert at human blood, but after skinning dead animals for as long as he had…He could tell when blood was new and old. It couldn’t have been more than an hour. This wasn’t Mary-Beth’s blood. However, it didn’t mean that there couldn’t be anything waiting for him around the corner. 

Following the blood, he stepped around the corner and found a mutilated body. 

There was a young man. Probably late teens or early twenties. Probably around the same age of the men who helped load his cart. His eyes were gone and lacerations around his body explained the blood that soaked the ground. It already had a decomposing smell of it, tangling with the smell of vomit and alcohol. While he didn’t like murder like this—it was overkill—he was secretly glad that he didn’t encounter the body of Mary-Beth torn to shreds. 

Pearson stepped closer and noticed a piece of wood with a knife in it laid out on the palm of the dead man’s hand. The closer he got, the more he realized that there was blood on the wood too, but it was fresher, drawn out methodically on the wood. He had to kneel to read the blood writings, which sent a chill down his spine. 

AM

DVL

3 DAY

COLM

And then there was a drawn picture of a location with a noose on it. 

There, lying next to the dead man’s hand was a cut lock of Mary-Beth’s hair and a torn piece of cloth that matched the same color and texture of the dress she had been wearing. The blood on the board was Mary-Beth’s. It was fresher compared to the dead male’s, making the man want to vomit.

Pearson’s mouth dried when he concluded what had happened. The O’Driscolls had kidnapped Mary-Beth and left a message for Dutch and Arthur about where to meet them. The O’Drisicolls had them by the balls and were steering them in the direction that they wanted them to go. 

Pearson tore the knife from the board and hid it on his belt, unsure if it was what ended this man’s life or was just left to accentuate their message. After hiding the lock of hair and cloth that would link Mary to this man, he grabbed the wood and rushed away from the scene as fast as possible, not wanting to be caught. Good thing the time meant that most men were working, though he wondered if they had gone at a different time if this would have even happened at all. Mary-Beth would be back at camp with her nose buried in one of her books. 

As much as he wanted to go to the sheriff, he knew he couldn’t. It involved his gang and the O’Driscolls! That wasn’t a good combination. 

Getting back to his wagon as fast as he could, Pearson raced back to his camp, constantly looking over his shoulder, not wanting to be ambushed on the way back, or followed back to camp. At some point along the ride, he considered abandoning the wagon and riding the horse back to camp, but he would still risk being followed and at the additional loss of money and supplies. 

“Who’s there?” Came John’s rough voice when he came close enough.

“It’s Pearson!” Pearson raced on by, doing his best to not tip the wagon by how fast he was rolling into camp. The horses whined the whole way, having been spent racing back to the camp, sweating and desperate for water. When they came to a halt, the young O’Driscoll approached to untether them. Seeing Kieran made Pearson’s blood boil and face turn red, but it hadn’t been Kieran’s fault this happened, just the gang he used to run with so he did his best to not direct his anger toward him.

Pearson rushed directly toward Dutch’s tent, catching everyone’s attention from the fast pace he clearly wasn’t used to doing. Dutch sat in the chair outside his tent, a book in one hand and a cigar in the other. Arthur was thankfully in camp, just in his own tent.

��Dutch! Arthur! We have a BIG issue right now!” 

Arthur perked up upon hearing his name and slowly sauntered his way over to Pearson and Dutch, his hands on his belt, “Oh yeah? What’s that? You eat all our groceries on the way back from Rhodes?”

“Now is not the time for jokes Arthur.” Pearson took the wood out, some of the blood smeared on his fingers but thankfully not enough to make the writing illegible. He also took the knife from his belt loop. Dutch and Arthur stared at the knife, intrigued, Arthur, stood up a bit straighter when he saw how serious Pearson was acting. It was unusual for him. 

“Well, then spit it out already!” Arthur tore the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground. “What the hell happened?”

Since he had stopped running, there was an unsettled feeling in Pearson’s stomach. He felt like he was about to throw up. 

“Dutch…Arthur…Mary-Beth was taken by the O’Driscolls… They left us this note with her blood.” 

The moment O’Driscolls was brought up, Dutch’s face became red. “WHAT?! What did you see, Pearson?!”

“NUTHIN!” Pearson gasped, “She wandered off when I was at the butcher’s and they kidnapped her when she was behind the saloon. There was also a dead body behind there. The bartender had this ugly bruise on his face, so I have a feeling he saw something, but if we try to talk to him, it might link the gang to the O’Driscolls,” he explained, the words flying out of his mouth, “They left this with Colom’s name and a lock of Mary-Beth’s hair. They’ve got her fer sure now….” He handed the wood over. Arthur leaned over Dutch’s shoulder to read what the blood was, his eyebrows furrowing. 

By then the rest of the gang were gathering around, particularly the girls. Tilly held a hand over her mouth, “Mary-Beth…She was taken? Oh, Pearson…” Tears were in her eyes. 

Pearson could hardly look at them all, all their faces that of a grieving person in mourning. He felt a lot of shame for letting this happen to such a vulnerable woman. But Mary-Beth wasn’t dead, or at least he hoped that she wasn’t. He couldn’t live with the thought of getting an innocent woman killed. 

Kieran found himself on the edge of the conversation, but not close enough to hear the conversation. He had been so busy taking the horses off the wagon that he nearly missed it entirely. He brought each horse to the water trough, which they drank greedily before he joined the congregating crowd. What’s going on here? He wanted to ask but kept his mouth shut when the eyes of this gang had fallen on him. Had he done something wrong?

Well, if they were staring at him, then it had something to do with the…

“O’Driscoll, what did you do?!” Karen abruptly snapped at Kieran. Everyone seemed shocked at her outburst, seeing how kindly she treated Kieran at camp. There weren’t any tears in her eyes, but her face was worse than a raging bull’s. 

“W-What do you mean?” Kieran asked, stuttering but not showing any lack of confidence. He kept his composure. “I ain’t done nothin’ other than take care of the damn horses lately,” he added defensively. 

“Your O’Driscolls KIDNAPPED MARY-BETH!”

Usually, Kieran would have fought them on this. Would have yelled that he wasn’t an O’Driscoll! But ‘Mary-Beth’ and ‘kidnapped’ mentioned in the same sentence was something he didn’t like to hear. He couldn’t argue with them this time. 

“They took Mary-Beth…?” he gasped and looked over toward Arthur, “We have to go save her! They’ll do awful things to her.”

Arthur squinted his eyes at the man as if observing them for anything suspicious, and Kieran hated the feeling that it left in his stomach. “You mean you had nothing to do with this?”

“Of course not!” Kieran spat out, flaring at Arthur’s accusatory tone, “I like Mary-Beth and I hate the O’Driscolls. You should know that by now 'cause I tell it to you every day!” He hissed. “We can’t spend time here, just wasting, we have to go and track her…Who knows what they will do to her.”

“Leave that to me,” Charles said, ready to jump on his horse that second.

“Wait just a minute!” Arthur said, holding his hand out, stopping everyone from doing anything stupid, “There’s a date written here, and they’re goin’ to expect us to meet them there at that time, or else. Charles, you can go, but you have to be extra careful. One wrong move on ANY of us is goin’ to end Mary-Beth’s life.” He pointed his finger at everyone as he spoke to them.

From the looks of the entire camp right now, everyone was willing to pick up their guns right now and hunt down their sick rivals. Some like Grimshaw and Lenny already had their guns out and ready. 

“And the note was addressed to only Dutch and me. We’ll have to be the ones to go. If they see more than us, it won’t be pretty for us and Mary-Beth.”

“But you’re gonna be outnumbered by those idiots…” Bill argued, his hands clutching at his sides, not because he particularly liked Mary-Beth but because he hated how the O’Driscolls could easily try to blackmail them. “You never know how many people they’re gonna bring, Arthur. You need more than two men…”

“If they lay a hand on Mary-Beth, I’ll fucking tear their balls off…” Sadie gritted her teeth. Not another woman whose life was on the line thanks to this gang…

“If you should take anyone extra, then it should be me,” Kieran volunteered, stepping forward. “I don’t think they would be intimidated if they saw me.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah! Might be able to trade him for the girl. Take him with ya.” He shoved Kieran forward by his shoulder. 

“Not a bad idea.” Arthur rubbed his chin.

If it came to that, then so be it, Kieran thought to himself. Mary-Beth had been the first one in the gang to be kind to him, to show Kieran the proper respect he deserved as a person by giving him that small glass of water. It had meant so much to him. There was no way in hell he would allow people like the O’Driscolls to hurt someone as gentle as her. If it meant that he had to trade his life for her, then maybe he could do something good and prove himself, even if he didn’t make it out alive.

“Oh, Mary-Beth…Please be okay…” Tilly kept a hand to her mouth, then spoke softly to Kieran, “Please get her back for us.”

Kieran spoke softly to her, “I promise that we’ll get her back, Tilly. Arthur and I ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to her, we promise…”

“You better.”

Mary-Beth tried to imagine herself in a whole new world, completely separate from the reality of hell she was currently facing. She was a princess and her prince charming sat across from her on the blanket, feeding her strawberries and telling her how much he would marry her and care for her. The bitter yet sweet taste in her tongue was imaginary but it was helping her free herself from the flames threatening to engulf her. She dissociated, forgetting anything that the O’Driscoll men did to her the moment they happened. 

She didn’t know when her own gang planned to get her, if they were even coming for her at all. Her hands were tied behind her back, connected to her ankles, making it impossible for her to move unless she twisted her body around, and even then it was far too painful for her to do that. She would be too exhausted before she could break the ropes.

If Mary-Beth had been listening, she would know that she had two days before the O’Driscolls were going to lay her out for bait, two days before she would learn if she lived or died. The gang planned to use her as bait, to lure the two strongest members of the Van Der Linde gang. 

One of the O’Driscolls approached her. She saw his boots right in front of her face and smelled the shit he had stepped in earlier. Her nose wrinkled and she refused to meet his eyes. “Oh, what a squirmin’ bitch ya are,” he laughed and spat on her face, making Mary-Beth flinch and swallowing a whimper climbing its way up her throat. She was surprised that he didn’t kick her before he stormed off, laughing and drinking with his friends—having an early celebration of the fall of the Van Der Linde gang.

Just remember your prince charming. Hell, you’d accept Sean as your prince charming at this point, she spoke mostly to herself, in her head and attempted to put herself back into the world of the last book she had read, imagining herself as the main character and Kieran as her prince charming. 

Wait.

Kieran…?

Why did she think of Kieran?

Sure, the two had been flirty with each other before, but she had never seen him in such a romantic light, or even imagined…kissing him…

But the memory soothed the aching in her heart, so her mind played the same scene over and over again as the days passed.

Kieran and Mary were in the meadows, sitting on a blanket softer than anything she had ever felt before. Wait, was it a cloud? There was a whole buffet of food laid out in front of her, and no matter how many bites she took, it never emptied. Behind them were two horses grazing and snoozing together. And whenever she looked at Kieran’s face, she felt the happiest she had ever been in a long time… 

Sometimes her brain had convinced herself this was reality. She wanted it to be. 

Mary-Beth was half asleep when a man grabbed her arm and cut the bindings, made her legs release, making them cramp, and her muscles scream in pain. Her hands were still tied as he pulled her to her feet, yelling at her as her legs wobbled and she would have buckled had the men not held her up. 

“Where…Where…” she mumbled before she was interrupted. 

“Shut up, you bitch.” 

A cloth was shoved into her mouth, forcing her to be quiet. 

“Put the woman on the back of the horse.”

Mary-Beth’s stomach lurched as she was lifted by her waist. She grunted as she was laid on the back of a chestnut colored horse, her stomach feeling the pressure as she was laid on her stomach. Never in all her life had she been hogtied and put on the back of the horse. She whined but shut up quickly to avoid them yelling at her any further. 

A man climbed on the back of the horse, kicking its sides with sharp spurs that were close to her face. Mary-Beth, with her eyes constantly on the ground, couldn’t tell where they were going. All she could do was count the seconds. It took them approximately seventeen minutes to pull to a full stop, the men whispering around her. 

“Quick, get the girl ready. They could be watching us and pop out at any moment.”

Mary-Beth saw the shoes of one of the O’Driscolls before they lifted her up. Instead of taking her off the horse, they shifted her into the saddle. All she could do was watch in horror as the men threw a rope over the branch of the tree they were under, a noose hanging at the end of it. She began to strain and pull on the restraints on her wrists but someone held her still as another pair of hands grabbed the noose and pulled it over her head. She felt tears as the noose pressed against her throat, tightening enough that it wouldn’t slide off her and only tighten when she fell off the side of the horse. They were going to hang her. Holy shit, they were going to fucking hang her! After that, she fell absolutely still, no matter how badly her body screamed at her to move.

“Two hours…If they’re not here in two hours just slap the horse and let it run.” Mary-Beth couldn’t see them, but an O’Driscoll stood behind her, a hand on the rear of the horse, who luckily remained calm for now. She relied on that calmness. But the woman wondered if the horse would feel her anxiety and become agitated before running off.

“Then leave her body. Maybe they’ll come back later and find her hanging and learn their lesson…We don’t spare the innocent.”

Please, Arthur. Sean. Charles. Kieran. She whispered the names like they were saints, praying they would come to rescue her. 

Time passed, but Mary-Beth wasn’t counting this time. Every second felt like an agonizing hour.

“How long has it been?”

“About an hour…”

And so they waited even longer. Mary-Beth’s thighs were aching from how tight she was squeezing on the horse’s saddle. 

An arrow sliced through the air, hitting the man behind Mary-Beth. The action was so abrupt that there was a moment of stunned silence. The horse shifted but luckily didn’t run off. Mary-Beth looked up, seeing the trees across the horizon, but saw no one in sight. Were her saviors still out there? “They’re he—” Another arrow whizzed through the air, shooting the man in front of her. 

“DAMNIT!” Mary-Beth looked in horror as one of the O’Driscolls raised a gun in the air. No, no, no!  Mary-Beth cried out in her mind, screaming and crying, wishing she could keep the horse in place. 

A gun fired, and then hellfire began. At first, it was arrows, and then it was gunshots.

Mary-Beth stared in terror as the horse’s ears flicked back. It freaked out before running forward, Mary-Beth hardly able to stop the rope from tightening around her neck. Just as the horse ran out from under her legs, arms wrapped around her body, desperately holding her around the waist and legs in a way to keep herself up. 

Even as the gunshots were heavy in the air, Mary-Beth was able to stare down at the person holding her. It was Kieran. KIERAN More tears formed in her eyes as she saw the man struggling to keep her up, to keep her from hanging right there. 

“SHOOT THE ROPE, SHOOT THE ROPE!” Kieran called out. 

Mary-Beth did her best to sit as still as possible, but everything was aching and she could hardly keep herself up as her body was crumbling quickly and she was hardly able to control what limb twitched. A choked cry escaped her throat and tears were impossible to hold back. 

An O’Driscoll stormed up to the two of them, his gun raised, ready to shoot Kieran between the eyes. Right as he pulled the hammer back on his revolver, there was a rifle shot, and blood splattered on Kieran’s face and on Mary-Beth’s dress. Then there was a second shot, and the rope around Mary-Beth’s throat became very loose. Mary-Beth fell on top of Kieran, taking the two of them to the ground. Kieran was on his feet a second later and grabbed Mary-beth by the shoulders. Even though she would have not wanted to be dragged anymore, there was a mutual and silent agreement that safety was more important as Kieran dragged Mary-Beth into the forest and brush, hiding them from the gunfight. Kieran sat back on the ground and pulled Mary-Beth flush against his chest. As quietly as he could, he took the cloth from her mouth and fumbled with his knife, cutting the bindings from her wrists, freeing her completely.

Mary-Beth’s mouth was open, tears in her eyes when she realized it ached more to shut her mouth from how long the cloth was stuck in her mouth. Kieran was about to pull away from the woman, to give her space, but Mary-Beth grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her body—feeling safe and protected like in the dreams she had hidden in the past few days. She closed her eyes and cried silent tears. 

Kieran hesitated but could tell that she just needed to be held for now. He kept her close to his chest as the gunshots thinned and the voices of the small group of O’Driscolls died out completely. They were all dead. But he remained quiet until he knew for sure that it was safe to come out.

“Mary-Beth? Kieran?” Came Arthur’s voice. 

Mary-Beth couldn’t speak. 

“We’re in here—!” Kieran stuttered and pulled himself and Mary-Beth up, taking the two of them out of the brush. 

When Mary-Beth saw Arthur, she practically fell into the arms of the man. “Oh Arthur…! You call came for me!” she sobbed.

Arthur awkwardly wrapped his arms around Mary-Beth. “Course we did. You’re a part of the family. We wouldn’t have left that to ya, all alone.”

“Are they all dead?” she asked, her bottom lip quivering.

Arthur nodded. “Dutch has one of them tied up right now and is talking to them. Otherwise, yeah. They’re all dead. Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled her back, looking her up and down, seeing the bruises and tatters on her. “Oh, Mary-Beth…You need to get back to camp. You think you can take her, Kieran? I’m gonna stay back and help Dutch get information out of this damn maggot.”

“Yes, please, I want to go back now. Is Pearson OK?” Mary-Beth asked.

“Don’t worry, Mary-Beth, he’s alright. Just get her to camp, Kieran.” Arthur walked away.

Kieran nodded and put his hand on Mary-Beth’s elbow, guiding her all the way to Branwen. When they were at the horse, he gently touched her arm. “Mary-Beth, I am SO sorry fer what happened to ya. Are ya okay?”

“I…I think so. I just want to get back to camp.” She approached Branwen from the side and turned her back to the horse, facing Kieran. “Can you help me onto the horse, please?” she asked, her arms slightly raised. “Everything hurts too much.”

“I sure can…” Kieran nodded and put his hands on her waist. He lifted her onto the back of his horse, feeling even more guilty as she winced in pain. The last thing he wanted was to cause her even more pain. After that, he climbed into the saddle in front of her, then raced off back to camp. His heart pounded with the leftover adrenaline from the gunfight, but it soared higher when Mary-Beth wrapped her arms around his waist and she leaned her cheek against his back. She…Wanted comfort from him? Him, of all people? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he was glad that she could trust him.

Kieran knew that there would be a group gathering when they returned to camp, so he made sure to approach quietly and calmly, hitching his horse at one of their posts. He got down and held his arms out naturally to take Mary-Beth off the horse. By the time he turned around, he saw the group gathering—just as he thought. 

“Oh, Mary-Beth!” Tilly cried out and ran before anyone else could. She ran to her best friend and hugged her, keeping her close. Mary-Beth broke down into tears as she hugged Tilly back. Kieran backed off and gave the woman some space, his hand on Branwen’s neck. However, he watched from afar. He watched as Mary-Beth was given new clothes, and how John gave her his tent so she could have privacy for a while. Karen, Grimshaw, and Tilly came in and out of the tent often, checking in on Mary-Beth. Sometimes he heard her crying, and it broke his heart. 

Sometime later in the evening, when it was darker than it was light, Kieran approached the flap of the tent and whispered, “Mary-Beth, is it okay if I came in?” he asked and waited for her answer. 

There was a small sniffle. “Oh, yeah, it’s okay…”

Kieran came in, carrying a tin plate of stew. “Have ya ate yet?” he asked. 

Mary-Beth sat on John’s cot, wearing one of her other outfits. The old clothes had been burned as no one, especially her, would want to attempt to stitch such clothing back together.

“Oh, no…I ain’t…I just haven’t had the appetite for it, but I probably should soon.”

“I got something for ya. Eat what you feel like ya can.” Kieran came in and moved across the tent and sat down next to her with the stew, handing it to her. Mary-Beth smiled fondly and sipped some of the broth. At least her stomach could handle that. 

“Mary-Beth…Yer awfully brave. Most don’t have the confidence when in the presence of an O’Driscoll.”

“Oh Kieran…” she whispered, “It was awful. I thought I was going to die…I thought they were gonna hang me. Had you not caught me, who knows whether I would have suffocated or if the rope would have snapped my neck right away. I wasn’t ready to die.”

“I’m glad I was there, Mary-Beth. I don’t know how you survived that…” Kieran’s hand touched hers, but then he hesitated. She noticed and immediately brought his hand back when he tried to take it away. 

“I just…I just imagined myself inside one of my books. I guess escapin’ into my own head was something that helped me…” Mary-Beth admitted Kieran, squeezing his hand. “It kept me alive until you saved me, Kieran. You’re a real hero. Thank you so much…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held the man, who she sort of related to in some way now. She wasn’t sure if she should tell Kieran that she imagined that he was her imaginary hero. She didn’t have to though—Kieran was her real hero now. 

[strangesmallbard]

while i understand why folks in the yj fandom want more onscreen dialogue about the Cannibalism Rituals, i don’t think the sudden jump to hunting down/slaughtering natalie felt unrealistic or ooc for anyone in the group. i actually thought the sudden, slap-dashed ritual development made sense—both for the show’s narrative structure and the scene’s context.

simply put: they’re hungry. they’ve spent the entire season hungry. they already cannibalized jackie’s corpse and don’t really feel bad about it. starvation completely annihilates a person’s rational brain. “why would they eat nat, one of two hunters in the group?” they’re hungry. “why wouldn’t they cannibalize coach ben, who they don’t trust and who’s visibly wasting away?” he wasn’t there when they decided to draw cards, and they’re hungry.

“if they were so hungry, why didn’t they accept lottie’s sacrifice?” lottie is the only person giving them any semblance of meaning and hope in circumstances defined by brutal, senseless violence. even tai—arguably the biggest nonbeliever of the group—joined the prayer when shauna gave birth, and saw shauna survive placental abruption with her own eyes. everyone has a vested interest in keeping lottie alive. “nat didn’t believe either. why would she join the cannibalism hunting ritual?” she’s hungry. the cards are a practical way to choose who lives and who dies. she’s hungry.

“okay but hunting and killing their friend is still so extreme” yeah it is, but they don’t hunt and kill their friend in 2x08. they allow javi to die right in front of them so they don’t have to kill natalie. we don’t know if shauna could have killed natalie in the cabin beforehand; we also don’t know if the group would have been able to kill nat, had they caught her before javi intervened. we still don’t how the girls will go from here to outright murder. i’m assuming season 3 will cover this shift, if we don’t see it happen in 2x09.

a script has to achieve the same narrative development in 10 pages of dialogue that a book can achieve with 300 pages. in a book, we’d have more time to discuss the rituals and reasons in more depth, let everything simmer. i fully understand why people wanted to see those discussions, and feel their absence acutely. but i don’t think this lack is necessarily a writing flaw, especially when you factor in all visual and audial storytelling elements. other big shifts in yellowjackets were also just as sudden and shocking: shauna killing adam, the jackie bacchanal, and simone finding the dog head come to mind in particular.

here’s what we are explicitly shown and told: they’re hungry. they don’t want to kill people. there’s something nebulously supernatural happening in the woods. many survivors are cobbling together spiritual meaning from scraps, while others are finding fewer and fewer reasons to not believe anymore. in this context, 2x08 worked for me and i’m excited (terrified!) to see what happens next.