#it takes us a while to “live on our own” because

[wrotebymii]

MAYBE ITS ME? … | Date Everything x gn!reader

Summary: After leaving your house because you can’t handle being hated in your very own home, Sam talks with you while your house becomes quiet…

This is a part two to this: PART ONE

Warning: minimal angst, honestly it’s a little fluffy with you and Sam. The objects are miserable now. There will be a part three!!

Sam has been the most understanding friend what felt like your only friend she tries her hardest to bring you out of your slump and rationalize while simultaneously making fun of you as to why your relationships within your home have a burning hate for you.

She’s pointing fun yet logical, allowing you to rant about what you did and where you possibly went wrong with each. She sat across from you, leaned forward with her elbows on her knees in full concentration. You were sat back practically melting into the furniture that didn’t despise you, moving a hand around to exaggerate your speech with the other stuffing your face with food like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Lowkey, you haven’t.

“When I talked to Hoove, being nice and supportive while telling him not to work too hard—I thought I was being sweet ya’know—“ You stuff your face and swallow.

“—but apparently NOT?? He got angry with me, when I tried backtracking and apologize which crazy by the way he said he HATED ME?!” You shout, you can feel your face heat in anger at the thought before tears well up.

“Or how I tried to speak with Daisuke—“

“Who’s that one?”

“Oh my tableware, he’s like tall about yay-high with black hair a portion of it in a bun with like dishware themed robes…I heard from others in rhe kitchen that he’s into taking things seriously” You explain with a wave of the hand.

“I actually…heh I thought that we’d get along, he likes taking care of the dishes and even tries to fix them if they crack due to me but that’s not the point I too like fixing things, I want to fix things…but I guess unlike him or fake it till you make it like Tony…I just make it worse…”

“I…I just wanted to be friends or the I don’t know? Date? The whole reason of the damn glasses.” You mutter, you push the snacks away and use a napkin to clean yourself.

Dating them, any of them wasn’t the main goal. Sure it’s interesting but realizing the things around your home have their own lives in the house was so cool!

Being a hermit, a homebody it felt like a this was a way to help you as well, to get better with being social and maybe let you learn that the outside wasn’t so scary and not everything was out to get you.

But, you messed it up—perhaps you tried too hard, pushed too much, didn’t push enough, didn’t flirt when needed to, too flirty for some, or didn’t have enough specs for the correct dialogue and it came out lame. Now, you’re both miserable in the house and out of it.

Sam was trying, really was. As you spoke she’d occasionally glance around her apartment as if the ranting was making her paranoid about her house. Sighing she runs her hand down her face. She should’ve said something about the weird black stuff in that bathroom, maybe it was the fumes getting to you, but she shook her head.

“What else happened?…”

“The breaking point?”

“Yeah, what made you take off the glasses?”She asks, you groan, slumping back and wiping away a few stray tears as you remembered.

“I was going to the Breaker Box Club, ‘cause Eddie and Volt were still nice-ish from our previous conversations—I hadn’t talked to them in a bit by then cause I was trying to salvage whatever was going on between Harper the hamper and Dirk dirty clothes. I wanted to catch up and help Eddie with some of his work like last time.” You shift in your seat uncomfortably.

“When I entered it was packed, I was happy for them that their business was getting bigger but I knew it was gonna be a lot to take on so I went to find one of them to offer help…”

“…you try and help a lot…”

“I do, it’s…the only thing I can give to them—“ you stop yourself, continuing the story of the night prior.

“But, I knew I wasn’t welcomed. Everyone avoided me, whispering around like I was back in school. Again, Volt saw me. I remember waving at him as he walked over way too quickly. We talked as he pushed me along the way I came from, when I noticed I was confused and…worried I lost another person again…” You take in a deep breath.

“I did…the gossip around the club didn’t go unnoticed by the owners he wanted to get rid of me so it didn’t disturb the customers. I tried talking to him saying that I wasn’t a bad…person…” You don’t sound convinced yourself by that statement.

“He wasn’t having it, his…skin almost turned this light blue? His hand gripped my arm to drag my away from the prying eyes, it hurt…not to make him anymore mad I let him, throw me out…” Voice trailing off, Sam looks stunned, like this was the most juiciest soap opera ever.

“You got kicked out of your own break box—“

“YES, I GOT KICK OUT” you yelled but not at Sam, yelling at the absurd thought of being thrown out of your own break box.

“Crazy…” She elongates the ‘zy’ in the word, unsure how to handle the rest of this.

“Do you think there’s a way to start over with them? All of them I mean?”

The sun was setting, making the silence seem light and comforting. You’re tired, and don’t know where to tread next, so many ideas run in your mind that you—wait…

There might be a very dubious way to get your life back to normal. The thought felt terrible, too personal and guilty, but you don’t seem to have any other option. At least not right now. So, you’ll pin the idea with Keith in the back of your mind. And let it fester or wilt as you and Sam brainstorm together.

Back at the house.

The ones that cheered for your leave are quiet, basking in the dullness of the house. Sure they can talk to one another but…that’s uneventful. The house is missing apart of itself the part of you. The human part. The fragile, unpredictable, unproductive, and lonely ways of you has gone missed.

But everyone refuses to say it out loud. They’re all still bitter and angry with how you treated them—wait…why exactly are they all mad? Some can’t remember but feel justified, although, looking back they just remember you trying. No.

No. You hurt them. They think…

…

…

Okay—well they aren’t sure…not anymore.

The lights are off because there’s no need to see, the sinks and baths don’t run because there’s no one to draw it for, the wall creaks and settles sadly, coffee pot remains unused along with the beauty products, television, books, sofa, stove—all of it. All of them are…completely bored?

Maybe, making your life inconvenienced and almost down right harassed in your day to day life after you stopped interacting with them wasn’t the right way to express their anger. A day turned to four then a week then two weeks.

Dorian can feel the worry in every room about when you’ll return, he huffs. Bedroom Dorian stands still, looking up at the ceiling then down to the floor, watching Florence quickly scramble around her time book with all the new complaints and meetings for Celia.

He reluctantly…steps forward. Away from his position to stand right in front of the poor woman. He rather be doing his job, the thing he thinks so highly of. However, he too is miserable more miserable than laundry room closet Dorian because what is his purpose now that the one who he open and closes for…is gone?

But he’s convinced himself that speaking with Celia will help.

Or so he hopes.

Taglist:

@hhhhthththrd

@diablosinners

@4rt3m1y

@stargazer0x0

@apearlyheart

@airyravenmaid

@writing-munchies

@suck-me-sideways-blog

@trixie541

@redjeanjacket

@xxxshadowl0rd420xxx

@animeweeb99

[roxasconan]

Community oversight (was?) is real and it was amazing. Hell, one time I fell off my bike on the way back from elementary school (which was easily nearly a half hour walk but that was fine because, ya know, community) and my mum knew about before I got home 'cause a neighbor saw and called. Even if we weren't friends/acquaintances with all our neighbors, we at least knew of them, ya know? And they knew of us in return. Basically all the parents in the area knew that that kid lived in that house, and if we see something is wrong/an emergency happens to take them back to where they live, or hell to take them back to our own houses but leave some kinda note at their house! Mind, this was before cellphones got REALLY popular (I'm only 29 shut up) so quick contact with parents was between notes and calls left on answering machines. So local Parent A keeping the child of another local Parent B in their house while during an emergency of some sort, while A tried to get in contact with B, was surprisingly normal. Or maybe it was more normal for me since my mum was a nurse? I dunno.

This is a legitimate and damaging cultural shift for all involved parties and it needs to be addressed.

[queenendless]

YOU FOUND ME

A/n: THNX U ALL FOR GETTING THIS SIDE BLOG TO OVER 800 FOLLOWERS! ♥︎

Credit to @livviespixels for these graphics. I need banners, art, fanart, fanfics, and MORE for our beloved Shadow Lord PRONTO PEOPLE!

I adore this man. So damn much. But I've been all over the place. GlimmerFics but imma take a break from writing there especially cause I get emotionally crying over Jinwoo for weeks now, moody over ZZZ gacha troubles and now that's P5X. So sorry for being gone for over a month and if this fic ain't that good for my Shadowlord's greatness.

CW: Self awareness AU brief/implied. Personal issues I've dealt with this past month like emotional depression, gut pains, etc. Tickle fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort.

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGARIZE, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR USE FOR AI. Rather reblog, like and follow thnx u very much.

Another insomnia fueled night.

Grinding through the newest hit game that everyone has been raving about.

On your laptop, resting on the kitchen chair, as you lay on your family living room couch, earphones plugged in as you toiled away the dead of night while the rest of your relatives sleep.

Despite having made many friends and some hateful choices along the way, your selfish bias had you pining for one character in particular.

Whether as a horned skulled creature composed of human and animal bones and shadows or as a emo human twink with a passion for the role, you adore this entity. This cool dork. Your beloved Shadow Lord; Skips Shadley.

Besides, the voice sold you on the character. That particular range, richness, versatility, whether gruff and theatrical or gentle and soothing.

Unbeknownst to you, the metas this game has pulled is about to take another big leap. So you thought it was all just a dream, believing you had conked out on the couch in the midst of playing.

Betty was used to your night owl habits so she still missed you sleeping at night with her like the old days. But she appreciated it when you return to her as you sleep through the day.

You could have sought out Farya; the first aid expert might be able to treat your flared up nerve damaged limbs that could involve improving your circulation. But you doubted it, your own personal ailments being incurable.

Gaia was understanding of how you kept coming to the corner of the house most of all to see the evident shadow beneath her stand, but is appreciative of you eventually befriending her, even more because she in a sense kept watch over your favorite house dweller.

Despite the Dateviators technically being on to allow you to be able to interact with these dateable objects and concepts, you didn't feel anything on your face as you were endearingly wrapped up in the familiar cozy darkness. The sight of your chosen lover appears out of the endless dark of his domain, making himself quite visible.

"Welcome back, my dear —!" He cut himself off as he looked at you like he's seeing you for the first time. His charcoal pupils lost in a daze. His glowing yellow blush dusting his face. "You ... you're here."

That's when he noticed the emotional distress on your face as your hands press to your chest and belly, pain evident, snapping him out of it. "Penumbra? What's wrong? What happened?!"

His panic and concern layered with tenderness as he hurries over makes your heart flutter, his misty back length hair sentient as he curtains both sides of you, his moonlight glowing hands carefully raking over your form to find any sorts of physical injuries on you.

"My chest, my stomach, my gut - especially my gut - dull flares of pain! I've been emotionally overwhelmed for weeks now. Am I eating too much? Been drinking coffee a lot too. They say bad sleep can cause gut issues. Or is it just that I'm getting older now? I don't fucking know anymore!" Your blubbering puffy self, wallowing in misery, crumbled apart in Skips' startled, anxious grasp.

"Please don't cry. Pretty please?" Your sniffles smother his chest, his smoky gray scarf he uses to dab your face with, not minding it getting soiled, easily able to clean them out since his attire is composed out of darkness itself. He pat and rubbed your back in gentle circular motions, letting you get out all those pent up emotions, nuzzling his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. "There there, angel~ I've got you."

"I'd rather be a shadow at this rate!" The sudden mood shift created from your moody words had Skips looking downtrodden, his eyes hidden underneath his wispy hair, reminding him of his failed ritual in reconfiguring you. You're the one panicked now. "I'm sorry beloved. I didn't mean to — !"

"Oh really now?" That ominous tone he took gave you goosebumps; that mischievous gleam in his eyes peeking out between his wisps. "Such a particular choice of words there, my dark ally~"

His shadows envelop you as he laid you down on plush comfy padding on his floor. He morphs into his alternate monster form. His towering frame envelops your sensitive teary-eyed self, his gruff rough voice seeped with mischief. "Hmm, perhaps I can remedy this dastardly situation."

The gentle yet thorough examination his giant clawed hands gives your vulnerable body leaves you feeling giddy as you giggle and squirm in his hold. "Nohoho stahahahp~! I'm so ticklihihish~!"

"That's the whole point, love. My punishment for your choice of words is most merciful, most bountiful, and most enjoyable~! Fwa hah haha!" His gravelly, wicked cackling only adds to his tickling more.

Pinned in between his arms, he keeps you caged between the puffy floor and his boney shadow form. Squeezing and pinching your hips, kneading and rubbing both sides of your folded belly, wiggling his lone curled claw along your neck and underneath your chin.

His careful tender touch leaves your heart quaking and your nerves firing. Your upper body quakes and your legs kick out underneath him as your laughs raise a pitch higher.

“That's it, my cute penumbra. Let all your unbridled energies spill out. Become untethered and enter the void~!" His spooky drawl got a watery chortle out of you amidst your squeamish state as his boney snout nuzzles your flushed smiling face.

Despite the predicament you're currently in, you hadn't remembered the last time you laughed. Days came and went in depressing sobbing episodes. It felt so long since you last felt elated. Could that be why he's doing this?

"To bare witness to the sight of you in the flesh ... your adorable real self~ I'm honored." His deep voice rumbles richly, his crinkled eyes sockets bore into your squeezed shut eyelids, his curling grin with boney teeth grows to match your own.

His words are nearly lost on you through the tingling, overwhelming high. All of him gets to you. His attention, his touch, both sides to him, you thrived off it all.

He releases you after a bit longer, letting you breathe, ghostly tickles still racking your curled up form as tired giggles slip out of you. His form reverted back to his human coil, brushing your hair away from your face, cradling your bright warm cheek, doting pecks on the tip of your nose, in between your brows, your forehead.

"I enjoy tickling your heart quite fiercely, my dear human. Especially if it helps you smile again." His shadows returned, this time however, to massage and caress your abdomen, your hips, your chest. Working out the stiff kinks. "To think this is how I'm actually seeing you for the first time."

You finally had your head clear from the ticklish overlay, finally able to ask about it between your pleased sighs and thankful hums. "What are you talking about?"

"I've always seen you on the other side of the screen whenever you play the game. So how ... how are you are here? Then again, lots of weirder shit goes on in this house so this shouldn't be so surprising. But even so," His yellow blushed paired with his lovesick smile made your toes curl and your heart race. "I'm actually meeting you face to face. And you're lovely."

You flush bashfully as he cradles you in his arms now, having you draped over his lap as you play with his scarf and his long shadowy hairlocks tickle your face when you decide to get it all off your chest.

"I'm so tired, Skips. Of feeling all this pain. Of being alone. Of not having anything worth living for back home. I don't want this to be a dream. I don't want to go back either. I want to stay here. I want you. If I have to Realize you to make you human so we can be together, I'll do it." Your rambled words seep with worry, anxiety, hope and need.

"I'm all too familiar with the negative nosedives." His own face nuzzles yours, his arms embrace you, holding onto you, both of you serving as each other's anchor. "You've accepted my true self. You chose me ... all of me. How could I not accept all of you in return?"

His whole being envelop you, submerging you in that tingly cozy warmth that soothes away the cramps, the dull aches within, and the emotional weight that pooled in your mind and your heart. "I'd be honored if you do Realize me. Being human with you, seeing this world for ourselves, or even just staying here in this house together, I want to be with you too, more than anything."

His shadows formed pillows and comfy bedding, laying you down with him joining you, facing you, but keeping you in his arms still. "Until then, you can sleep during the day and I'll watch over you until we can hang out at night. I'll make sure the silverfish don't bother you when you're sleeping."

Your eyes ripple up at him, swelling with hope. "Really?"

He blushed harder, smile dopey like, as his nose brushes yours. "You're a denizen of my realm now. And the Shadow Lord treats his darling penumbra with the most endearment."

You melt in his grasp, taking in his scent, relishing being in his grasp. "Thank you." His darkness made you feel so safe, easing down your sleep anxieties, nuzzling his chest in response to that. "I'll think of you always throughout my days." When you sleep through the daytime, dreaming of seeing him again.

"And I of you, through and beyond my nights." He followed you up, repeating your love lines to each other, humming deeply at how perfect. "Is it alright if I call you by your real name too?" Your sweet nod, your gentle whispering close to his face, made it all the more sweeter when he spoke your name at last with his cute smile. "Y/n L/n. You've made me the happiest I've been in a long time."

"And so have you." Your arms hugged his slim waist, your knees brush his peeking through his ripped tight pants, and your feet brushed his black boots. You just can't get enough of him. He is really truly yours.

"I love you, my beloved dummy."

"I love you too, my angelic dork."

And you're his. You're the Shadow Lord's now. Sharing a kiss or two ... or many pecks and hips and smooches as his shadows keep you both comfy as you two curled up together, intimacy setting the mood.

You'd take his loving darkness over the lonely light, always.

[t4kalcvr]

THE YOUNGEST HUNTER

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑/𝐗 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 requested by : @lelewright1234 genre :: urban fantasy, && found family. content contains :: black! reader, kind of an oc request!

Ი︵𐑼

TEAM DYNAMIC ::

𖦹 you’re the baby of the group — and they won’t let you forget it.

𖦹 rumi calls you “shorty,” zoey calls you “lil mama,” and mira tries to keep it professional but ends up saying “sweetpea” when she’s stressed.

𖦹 even though you’re small, you’re fierce, with the flexibility and agility of someone who can flip over demons like it’s choreography.

𖦹 everyone lowkey agrees you’re the most well-rounded: hand-to-hand combat, tracking, weapons knowledge, performance, fashion — you do it all, and without the ego.

𖦹 but they’d fight God himself before they admit that to your face.

RUMI ::

𖦹 loud, chaotic big sister energy who swears she’s the best — but secretly brags about you when you’re not around.

𖦹 always touching your hair, calling your curls “magical,” and begging you to teach her how to wrap hers the way you do your silk scarf at night.

𖦹 when you fight, she watches like it’s a show. cheering you on with: “ayeee! tear his demon ass UP!”

𖦹 randomly blurts out, “y’all ever realize our baby could probably take all of us in a fight?” and everyone goes silent.

MIRA ::

𖦹 protective, strategic, and the one who always checks in on you even when she pretends she’s not worried.

𖦹 has a strict “don’t engage unless I say so” policy with you… which you routinely ignore.

𖦹 scolds you like a mom but covers for you like a sister. “you broke protocol, y/n. again. …are you hurt? no? good.”

𖦹 insists on being the one to pair with you during dangerous missions because she “trusts herself more than anyone” to have your back.

𖦹 she softens when she hears you humming calypso or soca music while cleaning your blades — it reminds her you’re still a kid at heart, even after everything you’ve seen.

ZOEY ::

𖦹 absolute chaos gremlin bestie who lives to get you in trouble (and also out of it).

𖦹 has so many videos of you doing dangerous flips and tricks to reggae instrumentals and posts them with “our littlest menace 😍”

𖦹 always hypes up your curves: “short stack supremacy!!”

𖦹 helps you design some of your stage outfits with caribbean flare — flowy silhouettes, bold prints, gold accents — because she thinks your culture should shine through everything.

𖦹 once fought a demon twice her size after he made a rude comment about your height.

YOU ::

𖦹 you’re a whole problem on the battlefield. small, fast, and precise — you move like smoke and strike like lightning.

𖦹 your voice has a warm caribbean lilt that can go from soft and melodic to sharp and commanding real fast.

𖦹 you grew up with a mix of cultural traditions, music, and a family that taught you to always defend what matters — and that’s what fuels your passion in the group.

𖦹 you’re the glue between rumi’s fire, mira’s ice, and zoey’s storm.

𖦹 you make your own teas from scratch, hum old tunes when healing wounds, and always wear a protection charm around your neck that your grandma blessed — even during performances.

BONUS .ᐟ.ᐟ ::

𖦹 demons underestimate you constantly. and that’s their biggest mistake.

𖦹 they think you’re “the cute one.” until you slide between them and drive a glowing blade through their ribs.

𖦹 the other girls love watching the surprise twist in your victims’ faces — it never gets old.

copyright © t4kalcvr 2025 all rights reserved

💬, so here’s my first request!! i have two more!! one from the same person and then yalls request for a part two on my baby saja fic lol 😝😝 enjoyyyy !!! and yes my requests are still open !! please pile them up :3

ko-fi 🎧

look here for your next read 📚

permanent 🔖 : @sukunasrealgf @sinamew @valentique

[gingerteawrites]

HEADCANONS: JJK MEN WITH A SUPER SMART PARTNER

A/N: Had this thought while watching a random Youtube video so let's all dive down my silly little thoughts. I don't write in this kind of format often, so do let me know if you like it.

Content: Nanami x reader, Gojo x reader, Geto x reader, headcannons, gender neutral.

NANAMI KENTO

I know there's a lot of Nanami x bimbo-ish reader content out there. And while it definitely makes for some delicious delulu fuel, I am so convinced that Kento would prefer to be with someone who at least somewhat challenges him intellectually.

I can just picture it: The first time he heard you passionately go on about a deeply philosophical concept, or that one time you broke down a really hard topic you're super knowledgeable about, he felt his heart skip a beat.

If your area of expertise is not something he's familiar with, he'll find himself researching bits and pieces during his work breaks and then bring them up to you in conversation.

Of course, this absolutely delights you, and he can't decide if he prefers the twinkle in your eyes when you get lost in conversation, or the curve of your lips when they're pulled into a serious frown while you ponder his words.

Nanami, in my opinion, is also a huge "my partner" kind of guy, but in an amazing way. All of his co-workers that know him a bit know two things.

One, he's in a committed relationship. And two, his partner is super smart.

He doesn't even try to bring you up to people, the words just slip out and he finds himself making a comment along the lines of:

"My partner studied this in university, they're so knowledgeable about the field." or "I do not understand much of the topic, but I can ask my partner and get back to you later."

He cherishes your intelligence as in integral part of who you are, and is always rooting for you throughout all of your intellectual endeavors.

GOJO SATORU

Nothing anyone tells me will change my mind. At his core, Satoru is just a happy idiot that's kind of surprised he managed to bag you.

I know it might seem suprising, given that he practically has the confidence of a bigoted white man who thinks he's smart because he makes controversial political opinions (even though we all know our blue-eyed king would never be a bigot).

But trust me, sometimes he sees you locked in your own little world, musing on about some profound topics and he wonders how you even found him interesting at all.

All that to say he thinks you being smart is the best thing ever, and has 100% made comments about your sexy brain before.

As a natural consequence of this, Gojo uses you as his living encyclopedia, even if the questions he has are wildly out of your domain of expertise.

"Say, ____, exactly how much straw would it take to break a camel's back?"

"How much sugar can I eat before risking going into a coma?"

You might think that he's really just trying to mess with you, but no. Satoru genuinely thinks you're the smartest cookie on the planet and you know the answer to everything.

"I mean, shouldn't you be happy I'm asking you instead of that AI bullshit?" he says once, his head buried in your lap while you were reading a book. And you kind of have to concede. Maybe he was right.

I guess you just have to become the world's top expert in every field possible to become your boyfriend's very own AI assistant.

GETO SUGURU

In my opinion, Suguru is one of the smartest characters in the JJK verse. He's an expert in manipulation and has spent a lot of time diving into different philosophical thoughts and things like anthropology and sociology.

So of course, he would be delighted to have a partner who has a high intellect and with whom he can have deep conversations and theorize about life. He's probably huge on Eastern philosophy so after the first conversation you guys have about Buddhism and Shintoism, he's almost ready to go down on one knee.

On the other hand, I feel like if he had a partner who excelled in a more STEM aspect of things, he would be so very eager to listen to you and learn about your interests.

Whether it's sitting down and acting as an audience for when you practice presentations (and actually asking pretty thought-provoking questions), or inquiring about a concept that he knows you understand very well. Suguru will always try to match your energy with the things that you like.

I also feel like he'd be so into study dates, and generally be an amazing study buddy. The kind that brings all the good snacks to the session and keeps side conversations to only when both of your brains are starting to need a break. He would be the type of person you could sit in silence with for hours and both do your own thing, and then go get chocolate treats later because you read somewhere that it improves memory.

All to say he's completely enamored with you and you'd make one killer of an academic duo.

And that's all I have for you today, folks

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[cuprohastes]

Aging is when the telomers (?) on your DNA shorten. They are like a fuse: once they burn down that’s it no more cell .

The reason that they do this is because if you have immortal cells… Well they just keep replicating and don’t die off and eventually just eat/replace everything else in sight. Or as we tend to refer to it, cancer.

This is not a designed system. Nobody sat there and planned this, this is the result of random mutation that didn’t kill our ancestors, or at least didn’t kill them before they had kids and passed this on to their offspring.

Whilst we would prefer that there was some specific single thing that we could hack by taking a couple of pills that would fix everything and let us live longer and longer, there are severe downsides to it.

Culturally does anybody want Elon Musk to be able to live 1000 years and just inhale everybody’s money while making stupider and stupider decisions until he’s literally destroyed everything?

Or would you really want to live a life where you have to go to a grindingly Terrible job for centuries on end? If you’re immortal, there is no retirement, and you keep getting fired so that somebody can hire somebody else with less experience who can be paid less money.

Biologically, if the only way to remove part of the population is to wait for them to accidentally fall into a wood chipper, then population pressure would either cause massive problems, or the birth rate would drop precipitously and we would be in a situation where eventually you would have communities where everybody was too old to have children, leaving only non-breeding adults who are slowly succumbing to wood chippers, with no replacement.

It is not in our best interest to have massively expanded lifespans.

Which is lucky because we can’t.

There are no existing treatments that can extend peoples life past their natural lifespan which turns out to be a maximum of about 114 years old.

A number that was partially derived from just looking at how old people have historically been able to reach. Which is complicated by the fact that almost all of them either lied about their age or predated documented births, and actually don’t know how old they are but have a guess.

But if you want to maximise your chances of hitting your own personal genetic oldest age, then definitely sunscreen.

Also look into clothes that block the Sun: UPF 50 rated cloth.

Make sure you hydrate, don’t eat so much refined sugar (it dehydrate your tissues and causes other problems with your teeth, pancreas and so on), get some mild exercise so your heart stays healthy, and do some yoga so that you keep your balance skills up-to-date to prevent yourself falling over when you’re older, and also to keep your ligaments nice and supple so that your movement isn’t impeded.

Other than that, there is almost literally nothing that will expand your lifespan.

scrunching my face real hard rn

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

 The universe weeps. In another life, you were head of the GDA. In another life, you were almost friends.

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

This gets really fucked up. Take care of yourselves. Past SA mention. 

[Part one] [Ao3] [25] [Chapter Index]

26 * Cougar [12k]

"I'd give them STD's and infect their lives with creepy crawlies."

Watch As I Perform My Own Tracheotomy - Talkshow Boy

         On the screen, the Emperor was severe. All sharp edges, from his regalia to his mohawk.

        "Been a while." He said to the camera, a floating white ball that ascended from the floor when he told Kregg he was ready, the playback feed on the data pad Kregg held. You stood beside him, the rest of the council on his other side. "I've been busy these last few months with our research teams trying to eliminate the threat of black holes from eating away at the planets under my Empire's protection. Antimatter is hard to predict and contain, it's still a work in progress." It was a bullshit story the council came up with to explain his absence, you were unsure if anyone would buy it, or if it would even matter. "But you're not listening to hear about that. You're listening to this message because you rebelled while I was gone."

        "I hear the promises of The Coalition. They say that they can feed you, they can help you rebuild and repopulate, that they can liberate you, but they can not. They do not have what the Empire has. You were given one chance to have those luxuries. You ruined your chance by siding with those who do not stand for universal equilibrium. We were blind to progress and allowed unworthy beings under our united wing."

        The camera pulled away from Mark's bust, zooming out as he went on. "I know the Empire has taken from the universe, maybe the Empire has taken your family, a friend, a partner. I know you want to fight back because you don't understand our ways, and some of you have. To the rebels, your families are already dead, not at our hands but yours." Face after face entered the frame, identical to his own. "We are coming. We expect resistance." He stood in the center of the Marks, all uncharacteristically stiff and hard-faced- except Gray who looked like that all the time. In each of their hands there was a mangled head. Smashed, skinned, pierced, it didn't matter, the Coalition would identify their heads as planetary leaders from one of their newest solar system wide alliances. "We will grant no mercy, even if you lay down your arms and surrender. You've already shown us your allegiances."

        He didn't sound like himself. Talking with all those big words, staring hard at the camera like he was looking a rebel leader in the face. It sent chills down your spine how put together Mark could really be. How well he'd hidden what he was in the desert, how laissez-faire he acted there, but behind that smile and teasing instance for blowjobs, was the Emperor of the Viltrumite Empire. 

        Kregg pressed a button on his datapad, stopping the recording.

        "Good." He said. 

        Mark's shoulders drooped. He hated looking like such a stick-up-the-ass prick, but it was good optics. The speech the council prepared for him was way dryer and more long winded than what he thought was necessary, so he went off track. Shortened it but still kept the prose. Thula didn't look too sour, so he'd done a good enough job. 

        Scars didn't listen as the Emperor and Kregg talked over the script for the next recording, to be sent out to loyalist planets. He'd done what they asked, stood there, stared at the camera as a solider and not as the Emperor. They all had the blood of Argall and yet he and the others were treated like lackeys. It made him want to puke, made him replay the worst of what he'd done on that planet hours ago. He could still taste the alien blood in the back of his throat, almost citrusy. The memory wasn't enough to contain his anger so he let his eyes wander to the next best thing.

        You were right there, standing only yards away with no one personally guarding you. He hadn't seen you in days. Lensless had rubbed it in his face that he'd seen you hanging out with that weakling they almost killed. He wanted to grab you, fly to the lab, take his own empire with you under his heel. Except he was sure someone would catch him, Angstrom wasn't ready, wouldn't be for a long time even with Viltrum's tech. 

         You were subdued compared to the last time he saw you, yelling at the Emperor and storming out of the room. Now you just stood there. Staring at nothing. You'd spoke when spoken to, moved when you had to, but the rest of the time you were stiff. Then there was that loose sweater you were wearing. He thought you'd switched over to Viltrum clothes so why were you wearing a date night casual turtleneck? Had Mark taken to dressing you up just to dangle you in front of him? Was he trying to make him lunge?

        He wouldn't. Not yet. Not here with so many witnesses. But it was hard when you were dressed in nicer clothes because you looked so much like her. She would have never worn those pants- not without a delicate accent piece of jewelry and a pair of expensive shoes. She wouldn't be standing around such an important place without a purpose. She would never have taken her eyes off of the biggest threat in the room- him. She had fought him to the end in her own way, had never averted her gaze when any other human would have. You were here instead, looking like you'd given up, like something had broken you down and it hadn't even been him. Maybe you were weaker than he thought. If you were, you couldn't handle him, would give up the way she did if he got to you. How disappointing.

        You caught his longing stare then. The impassive mask you wore cracked with a curl of the lip. You pulled a hand from your trouser pocket and gave him the finger, just barely, a flash before the hand was back in your pocket. 

        A smile almost forced itself onto his lips. He choked it down, kept his expression hard as the camera started rolling again. He saw a sharp flash in your eye, that of a cornered dog and he knew. You wouldn't kill yourself, not before you killed everyone in this room. You couldn't do it, but you'd try, he could feel it. 

        ***

        You were nothing but a face in the control room. He couldn't remember the first time you met, supposed you'd always been there, you spoke up more often than the other nobodies in the control room, but he paid you no mind. He was invited to the GDA, freshly seventeen and experienced enough in Cecil Stedman's eyes to be let in on state secrets. He'd appreciated the gesture, but kept the GDA at arms length the same way his dad did. Stepping in when he had to, never lowering himself to join something as stupidly named as Teen Team. 

        That's all it was for a long time. You didn't exist to him, one of the many humans who scurried around like bugs trying to prevent things they had no control over. He thought little of the heroes employed by the GDA, and even less of people like you. Then Dad told him what they were to do at Guardians HQ, kill them all to start to preparation of the planet for the Empire. He'd been clued in on the truth since he was a child. It had been good for his ego, knowing he was better than the other kids at that vapid school Mom made him attend until she wasn't around to make him go.        

         Killing The Guardians was brutal work. Dad got hurt, much worse than Mark had. Mark who was thousands of years younger, who should have been so much weaker than the man who preached the importance of strength for Mark's entire life. Showed him that strength long before he had his powers to defend his child self with. He didn't look very strong when his head rolled to the floor, when his blood mixed with the Guardians'. 

        Cecil took a real interest in Mark then. He'd been keeping an eye on the kid since before they knew he had a bad habit of not bringing criminals to prison, of not actually saving intended victims. They knew him and his father killed The Guardians, but had no real idea why. Cecil assumed the worst, but Donald evened him out. Suggesting maybe Nolan dragged him along, that Mark had been unwilling for years and only finally put an end to the terror. They'd known Nolan some years, he was a real bastard, was no doubt he was a terror to his son. Especially after what Mark did to Debbie.

        Maybe Mark would be done with killing. Nolan was gone, there was no more need to take his teenage angst out on robbers and little old ladies. But they couldn't know that until they got him under their thumb. They offered him protection and a position at the GDA once again. He agreed, and a surveillance team was set up in the house across the street from the Grayson's, millions of dollars poured into watched a teenager in a lonely house.

        Three years rolled by. 

        The Empire hadn't come yet. Dad never got the chance to contact them to finalize the invasion and Mark didn't know how. Instead he upheld the charade his Father had for decades, waiting for a ship that would never come. He let the animals of the planet talk to him like they were on the same level. Dad said they had to act, had to roll with the piggies in the shit so they wouldn't suspect anything. He worked with fools like Rex Splode and Atom Eve. Their smiles felt sharp, their laughter somehow always pointed at him. 

      He told the GDA they needed to get into contact with Viltrum. He didn't care if they spent billions, he needed someone, something these Earthlings couldn't give him. He fed Cecil a bullshit story and Cecil? Lied that he'd make contact somehow. In reality he didn't put a single cent toward intergalactic communication. Viltrum wasn't his charge, Earth was. He hadn't given two shits that Viltrum could cure cancer. It was glaringly obvious, Viltrum was bad news and contacting them would be a death sentence. That didn't stop him from pretending to keep Mark placated. The surveillance team had seen more than their fair share of concerning behavior, they couldn't risk upsetting him.

        Mark may have overreacted when he found out all those impressive machines Cecil showed him were dummies. Dad was weak, worthless but at least he understood what they were, what had to be done. He'd never be able to contact Viltrum after he turned Cecil into a pulp. Donald hadn't stood a chance. He tried to cover it up. He'd been working with the GDA a long time, he knew who to threaten to keep the security tapes secret. It had barely worked, he knew the GDA would never trust him again even without the direct evidence. He had considered crushing the world under his heel and flying randomly into deep space, taking his chances. But he knew he'd get nowhere. He needed to know where he was going, would have preferred to be picked up and taken from this rotten planet where nobody had ever understood him. 

        Not even when he was a powerless child, forced into school by his mother. The children somehow knew he was different and avoided him. He tried acting like they did, sweetly stupid, but it was never right, the mask was never natural, never fit. Nothing he did was right. Not with other children, not with Dad. Mark didn't know what he wanted. Just that there was a gaping lonely hole inside of him Viltrum could fix, because Dad said they fixed everything else. Mark left America after killing Cecil, looking for other governments to terrorize into doing his bidding.

        You were supposed to be the test, not the final product. The chamber was designed for Cecil, you just had to make sure it was safe- that when you stepped out twenty years older and you didn't liquify or develop every kind of cancer known to man.

        The hyperbolic time chamber had been a tricky build. You helped build the thing and still didn't entirely understand how the warping of senescence worked, you just built the tech, let the biologists deal with warping cells. You'd been proud, so sure it'd work on a person, but someone had to test it. Someone had to live inside the thing, the size of a house, for six months. Six months alone that would feel like twenty years. 

         It was way longer than Cecil would ever need it for, but the GDA liked to play it extra safe with Stedman's safety, wanted to know the limits. Six months was the edge of what your team hypothetically considered safe, so of course that's what the higher ups were offering. You did it because the work on the time chamber was the best work you'd ever done. You wanted to learn more about it, to become a better engineer by the time you walked out. The lost time would be worth it. The time wouldn't really be lost- you lived through them as you would've naturally. Except it wasn't natural and you were alone while time warped around you.  

        The chamber was meant to be a temporary shelter when shit hit the fan like Cecil expected. A few hours in the chamber brought days of time to think, regroup, or train if needed. You needed something to do for twenty years so they gave you twenty years of homework- meant for Cecil Stedman in a doomsday scenario. When he reemerged he needed to be prepared for anything so that meant you needed to be prepare for anything. 

        Twenty years was too long, you finished the work and internalized it long before your time was up. You were prepared for a payout to work on your dissertation when you emerged, but you'd already began work on it while you waited for your time to be up. When you emerged you were ready for a lab, for a team of students and premier housing they'd promised after your sacrifice. You weren't expecting the mess that became your life. But who else could the staff at the GDA turn to? The head before Cecil was dead, the higher ups under Cecil were dead, the people under them were dead. You'd been given a twenty-year crash course on running the GDA, so it made sense to people in Earth's greatest time of need- to just put you at the helm. 

       At that point, world leaders had been killed for their refusal or lack of resources to get Mark where he wanted to be. Governments were collapsing from lack of leadership. No one could reign Mark in, a loose superpowered bull in a china shop. 

        It was a hail Mary, the message sent to every screen on the planet just for him to see. The camera tapes of Cecil's murder hadn't been entirely erased and in the fallout, the team he threatened caved and handed them over. Mark was going to kill them all one way or the other. 

        It was barely leverage, but all you asked for was a meeting. You thought he would kill you or not show up. He'd ravaged the planet looking for purpose in a world that could give him none. He came. The yellow of his supersuit soaked brown with old blood. 

        Truthfully, Mark had been planning to kill you. Who did you, some old human cunt, think you were to boss him around? He flew at you, fist posited to spear through your brains. Then he paused, because he recognized you and it didn't make sense. He didn't remember faces of people he didn't give a shit about but- you'd done something years ago that set you apart from the other ants. You spoke up against Cecil in the control room, corrected him bluntly, said he, "Should spend more time with the lab guys if he wanted to know what he was talking about." You hadn't been trying to be rude, but Cecil's eye twitched. Mark liked that you made Cecil look stupid, didn't hurt that you were cute. He never saw much of you after that.

        But whenever Cecil was giving him a verbal dressing down he'd remember you, Cecil's curt, "I understand it plenty," when he clearly hadn't, and felt a bit better.

        You could've been your own mother or twin but that wasn't it. You were that same lab rat, somehow in your early forties when he swore you were just over twenty, just barely older than him. You explained, he mostly didn't listen. The gist was, "We can warp time, Mark. We can get you in contact with Viltrum. Just stop killing people and work with me."

        There were problems working with Mark after he murdered Cecil. A good chunk of the GDA staff, multiple world leaders, etcetera, didn't want to work with you or the GDA for working with a homicidal maniac. You had expected it, Mark had expected it. No one had ever wanted to be around him, not even his own mother, but you were insistent. If the world was to survive they had to work with him- find a way to process his indestructible DNA and somehow make a device that could locate the nearest DNA sequence in the universe. Then somehow get in contact across galaxies- complicated stuff. 

        Mark didn't know shit, but you had all the answers. Pooled the GDA funding into his pet project, let the world get worse just so you could try to save it. You fended off heroes trying to kill him, threatening their families if they ever tried to hurt Mark again- because when Mark felt threatened he bit back ten times as hard. The first time a hero came for him, you let it happen, that was how half of Virginia was lost.

        The remaining heroes didn't doubt your call, because you'd done it before. Had a firing squad kill Rex Splode for trying. The things you had to do to kill Atom Eve would have made God weep. It was all for a bigger cause. No one could jump in the way or else he'd end the world. Couldn't they just wait for revenge a little longer? You had waited twenty years for a future that would never happen, they could all suffer through a few more years of Mark.

        Mark didn't have friends after Dad told him what he was. Hammered that lesson home. Humans weren't worth his time- but there you were, making yourself useful. Ruining your world to get him to his. Always hanging around him or talking in his ear, sending him into deep space for materials or to kill a kaiju so it wouldn't flatten the GDA labs. Whenever he came into a room people made excuses to leave soon as possible. You never did, trying to protect them by focusing his attention on you, with talk of how the machines were going.

        As the months ticked by he paid less attention to the tech and more to you. Always wearing business casual, clean, and put together despite how the world was crumbling around you. He admired that resolve to stay professionally presentable. Knew it was something you clung onto to feel human when you'd suddenly become such a monster- all because of him. He wanted your control or wanted to break it, and he had never felt in control, even now, you called the shots to get him what he wanted. So he wanted to see you ruined. Bloody or on his dick or both, he didn't care.

        Mark had never spent this much time alone with anyone. Never counted down the minutes till he could see another person again. Never had someone seek him out. He swung back and forth, disgusted by your humanity then lustily trying to get you to fuck him, like a high speed metronome.

        You'd never called yourself a friend to him in the time you worked together. You stayed professionally cold, even when he fucked you over your desk for the first time. His hand cinched around the back of your neck, pressing so hard there were bruises for weeks and the blood vessels in your eyes burst. You'd done it to keep him close, lead him on, keep him away from the labs a little while longer.

         You thought it'd make him listen more, but it didn't. He only pulled the same shit saying over your earpiece, "If you aren't waiting on your knees for me, I'm killing everyone in the building." When last month it was, "If I have to go to another meeting, I'm killing everyone in the building."

        You pushed back with a practiced sigh, "Mark, we're not doing this." You'd kept him at arms length so far and he'd still stuck to you like glue. You knew now sleeping with him was a mistake you couldn't walk back. Still, you tried to reason with him, because despite everything he could listen- if you made him think it benefited him.

        "How do you know I won't?" He was joking, but not really. Once you contacted Viltrum for him, he was fucking the planet instead of leaving it be. You had to have known he would, but you never brought it up. You never told him a lot of things, but you were still the closest he'd ever been to another person. 

        "I'm replaceable to the GDA, but not to you, Mark." He'd laughed and threatened to kill you, but his voice was soft in that way it only was with you. No one died that day, and you knew this would have to go on until one of you killed the other. 

        Two years, that was how long you led him on. Convincingly too. Fucked him when you had to to keep him happy. Filled his head with science jargon that sounded right. He knew you might betray him at some point; you'd betrayed your home planet, the whole world, he'd be a fool to not think he was next.         

        Still. Around you, Mark's brain went soft and stupid. He'd started demanding dates, time to be with you. A first he told himself it was to see how you'd react, the more it went on the less he could convince himself it was true. He knew you hated him, scourge of the planet, but he couldn't help liking you so much. He was going to take you to Viltrum with him. Keep you as a trophy pet. Because even if you were in charge of the planet, even if you were smarter than him, you were still just a human. Lesser.

        In the end, you were a liar just like Cecil. Most of the machines you'd showed him were real enough, but you'd lied about what the DNA you'd extracted from him was being used for. Not a Viltrumite locating device- but the parts to make a bomb designed to break him specifically. Secretly constructed under the rest of Virginia after what he did during his initial reign of terror.

        You'd sent him out on a nothing mission to get something from Venus. He was content, just having his dick sucked clean, a promise of more when he came back. You'd told him the locator was almost done, he just had to get one last thing. He was about to delve into Venus's gas-thick atmosphere when he heard it. A strange rumbling whistle in the quiet vacuum of space. He turned and was met with what the lab boys named the Long Shot. 

        It was almost on him, faster than any man-made tech he'd ever seen. It was a feat, really, amazingly impossible, but you'd done it. You'd made something that almost snuck up on him. Was faster than fast. Was sure to blow him to nothing but particles.

        He'd been so stupid to think maybe you were starting to soften on him the way he had with you. You'd been fucking him and taking him out so much recently, without him asking. Something no one had ever done for him before. The idea you'd started to actually like him despite the fear seemed like the truth until he was faced with reality.  

        He thought you were too scared to bite back, that you liked him too much, but there you were. Finally showing him your real face. Not the cold professional one, but the traitorous murderous cunt he knew you were. Inside he felt a piece of himself sink into the blackness. He wasn't diluted, you hated him but he thought you had something, even if it was the tiniest scrap, it was something. That you didn't entirely want him gone like everyone else, you'd fought for him, gone to war with multiple other countries for him. You couldn't have done all that and felt nothing for him. 

        When the bomb hit- he was laughing so hard he was crying or maybe it was the other way around. 

        You watched the explosion on the massive control room screen. The room was dead quiet as the quantum bomb debris spread through space. Most of it pulling into Venus's atmosphere. One minute passed with no activity from inside the impact site. Two. At three minutes people started cheering. Clapping. Crying. It was over. The world was hell, nearly impossible to put back together, it'd rotten work, but you'd do it. 

        Right as your assistant was grabbing a bottle of champagne she'd hidden under her desk, he flew out of the debris field. The room went quiet only interrupted by the sound of a single bullet firing. One of the grunts who was stationed to guard the door had killed himself because he knew what was coming from watching this room twelve hours a day. There was no way to contact Viltrum. There was no hope. Mark would know it was all a farce. You were all dead meat. The room erupted into chaos. 

        At first you'd actually tried building the DNA locator, but it physically wasn't possible with anything made on Earth. The Martians wouldn't help even with begging, offerings, and threats. The Empire was too big a scourge to call to the Milky Way. So you'd made the theoretical, radical. Distracted Mark while the biggest, nastiest bomb all of humanity could scrap together because that's all you could do. It'd take Europe off the fucking map, but not Mark Grayson. 

        You and a few others stayed behind to send out worldwide alerts. Frantic, pleading for people to get into bomb shelters if they could. You held yourself together even as your sensors told you he was entering the atmosphere, hurdling for the pentagon like a bullet. Kept the messages rolling until the building shuddered from impact. The concrete foundations hadn't even finished shaking when he burst through the wall. Bloody with whoever was unlucky enough to be in the halls. 

        Your team was dead in an instant. You were alone, just like he was. 

        He dripped onto the floor. When he'd help up an arm to slow down the bomb, it'd blasted the skin off his whole left side including his face, the muscles liquefied and sloughing off parts of bone. Yet he still stood. Defiant. 

        You should've cried. Broken down, begged forgiveness, sucked him off for the chance to survive. You did none of the above, just met his bloodied gaze and said evenly, "It didn't work. Pity." 

        He grabbed you hard by the throat, pressed into your veins instead of crushing your esophagus. Wondering if he should just crush your neck or your head or make it slower. It was hard to think when parts of his brain were leaking out of his skull, dripping down his face. 

        His grip wasn't hard enough to shut you up, desperation finally edging into your voice, "Please Mark, please don't."  

        You didn't show much emotion, even during sex, but the way you were looking at him when everything came crashing down- made him pause. You were scared, beyond scared. Before you stepped out of that chamber you were a normal person, he saw then that the whole Cecil act you'd been putting up was a carefully constructed lie. You had been good at wearing a mask unlike him and deep down you were just like everyone else. 

        "Gonna keep your promise?" His voice was shredded, wet and nearly indecipherable with half of his jaw hanging off his face. 

        You did, and the fear in your eyes the whole time made Mark realize he wanted you to hurt the way he did. And once he started hurting you, he couldn't stop.

        Turned out someone could only act so nonchalant when witnessing countries of people being slaughtered first hand. You told him, your voice shaking, that it looked different from the control room cameras. You found ways to placate him. Let him have his fun in front of so many people. He said he'd spare them if you let it happen, but he never did. You tried everytime. Some freakish cross between fetish and fear, Mark lied to himself. Because after everything he still wanted you to enjoy this. Finally, the world that hated you, made you go gray, was burning. Maybe you took some catharsis in it. You never told him, talked less and less the longer he had you. 

        Constantly, he pulled at his healing skin. Picked at it, reopened it, let it get infected and puss-pocked. He wanted it to scar. Wanted everytime you looked at him to be a reminder of your failure to protect humanity. That everything awful you'd done was for nothing. That he chose to let you hurt him, that the scar and the world burning at his hands was your fault.  

        Despite his efforts most of it healed, he was being too broad, general. He stuck to a strip of his face. Let his teeth show, dug his fingertips into the ruined flesh an ruined it some more until his Viltrumite cells gave up and decided he was healed.

        He told himself breaking you down was healing him, but he was just as empty as before. Supposed he did what he had set out to do. Ruined you so thoroughly there was nothing left, you were just as empty as he was. Maybe that's why you picked up that piece of broken glass while he was mid-thrust. A small town of people watching, sobbing, hoping they'd let him live knowing he wouldn't. He grunts out, "'S fuckin' close," freshly scarred skin gleaming in the light of a distant fire, when you pushed the glass into your own neck. He felt his balls tighten when your blood hit his face. He opened his eyes. Watched you spasm and jerk, blood gurgling out your throat onto the concrete. 

        Holding your neck together wasn't enough. There were no hospital left standing. No one in the crowd was a doctor or willing to help. He killed them all when they tried to run after he'd gone still for twenty minutes. Just sitting there, holding your cooling body. Disbelieving. Feeling the hole become a chasm.

        Guess you weren't just a human after all.

        It turned out Dad hadn't contacted Viltrum for so long they sent someone to check on him, and when they saw the destruction Mark had wrought, they sent for a ship to begin colonization. When he felt the shadow of the warship fall over him, he'd nearly chewed you down to the bone. 

        ***

        You were just so... different. Younger, livelier, meaner, not smarter than him. You were her, that was important, but you were a version of her he could mold. 

        Then there were your powers. He hadn't expected them, but it wasn't an unwelcome surprise. Your powers had melded you into a vastly different person. You weren't wound so tightly, you wore your heart on your sleeve, you didn't give a shit how many people died. He'd never be able to fully wear you down because you could always fight back. He wanted you stronger, meaner, more like himself, because a you who understood him better was better. But you could never be as strong as him, he'd always keep you weaker. Always keep you below him because you were just- 

        You shifted foot to foot, idly pinching your sleeve between your fingers, rolling it in your boredom. She'd done the same thing. He thought it was cute. His friend-  no. She wasn't a friend. She couldn't face the reality of what she'd doomed humanity to by making him angry, she knew what would happen. She was weak. Mark didn't have friends, not then, not now and not when Viltrum came for him.

        Viltrum hadn't been what he expected. Everything was so clinical and cold. He thought it'd make him whole, but it only made him emptier, the loneliness compounded. He was on the same level at last, but it came without companionship or understanding. It came with work and few words. Things were less icy here. There were the other versions of himself, twisted and burned by you like he'd been. There was a quiet company in that.

        You were at the center of it for all of them. Thrashing and fighting all the way, trying to escape only binding yourself tighter. He couldn't help but enjoy your attempts. So adorably helpless with just enough teeth to keep them all coming back. 

     He'd lied to you when you first met, about not coming for you. Lied because he couldn't really admit to himself that he'd do something so drastic, after he'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted, for a human. Thought he came to expand the empire, but knew he just wanted to have more people to kill, to throw into the void inside, trying to fill it. But the more spent he time around this younger bitchy version of you, the more he felt pangs of wanting for you and you alone.

        He didn't give a fuck about expanding the empire, not really, not until he knew he was heir to the throne. He wanted the power and you and no one else to hog your attention. Wanted you to have enough hope to fight and kick and scream but not enough to never beg. Enough hope that you'd never kill yourself again, to decide for him when he was done using you.

        Snap, snap!

        Fingers in his face. Another snap.

         "Hey." The Emperor sneered. "You, I'm talking to you- ah fuck, what do I even call you-" Mark looked to you, "Scars?" He raised a brow for confirmation. You nodded. 

        "No." Scars was a name shared between you and him, nobody else. "My name is Mark."

        "Okay, well, my name is also Mark, dipshit, and so is his, his, and his. We can't all be Mark." Mohawk's finger ticked as he pointed down the line of men watching him. All tense because he and you were in the same room. He'd spaced out, staring right at you. You'd shuffled from the spot but he was so far gone his eyes didn't track your movement. "It's either dipshit or you, take your pick."

        Scars didn't hide his distaste. "My name is-"

       "Sebastian," Mark snapped, "There, that's it. Always forget about our stupid ass middle name."

        "Not everyone's." Lesnless said only to be ignored.

        "No-" Sebastian had been his maternal human grandfather, a pointless human formality Dad had let Debbie have. 

        Mark leaned closer, smiling too stiff, "Your name is Sebastian now. Okay?"

        What could he do about it? Hit the Emperor? Join that asshole in prison? Never get a chance to run into you and make you squirm?

        Sebastian forced a smile like he had hundreds of times, "Whatever you say, Emperor Mark." 

        The filming was said and done. Dread spread across the universe. People fled their homes in hopes of being protected by the Coalition on other planets. People geared up for the incoming, unwinnable battle. People drugged their families, let them fall asleep before putting a ray gun to the back of their sweetly sleeping heads and pulling the trigger- before turning the gun on themselves.

        The Marks disbursed onto their next to-do. They'd been given eight hours of sleep after the slaughter, the only reward they got before work resumed. Markus passed you by, giving you a near imperceptible smile before he disappeared down the hall with Kregg and Gray in tow. Lensless hovered, giving you a disappointed puppy-pout because you hadn't given him a fat, wet kiss on the cheek when you saw him. He hadn't been accessible, it wasn't like you could have run on the stage and done it. So as he was leaving he came down from his float and leaned his cheek toward you expectantly. You kissed his cheek as fast as you could with as little people as possible looking. He was disappointed but not surprised. You were worried what people would think if they saw- it was cute. Lucan followed him out, pretending he didn't see that.

        Phantom saw. Knew right away you hadn't done it of your own free will. He said nothing of it, knew you were doing what you could to survive. Especially after Mark had collared you. He knew, heard the scream and had noticed the collar was gone from the lab, then right after you wore high necked tops. You had to be more subdued. He knew it was a good thing so you couldn't act out and get hurt, but he didn't like the burst-blood vessel agony in your eyes. For now, he had brain chips to develop, he hoped they would be enough protection now that you were powerless.  

        Seb lingered around, felt creeped out by all the eyes that passed you. "Uh. My meal block's in fifteen." It was an offering. 

        You looked to Mark who glared down at Seb. He hadn't been able to get you alone long enough to interrogate you about your vitals yesterday. About what you fantasized about with two or three fingers stretching out your cunt. "She has work to-"

        "Emperor Mark, if I may," a deceptively balmy voice. Sebastian hadn't left. Stayed behind, hovered beside Mark even as he talked with Thula about the next scheduled council meeting. "I have something to ask." He said cordially, too cordially.

        Mark could send him away but the way Sebastian kept glancing at you, told him there'd be adverse effects if he did. He glared at Seb but relented, "Just bring her back to my rooms when you're done eating." 

        You and Seb didn't wait around. Scurrying out of the room just to be away from Sebastian faster. Over lunch, he didn't want to talk about the mission. Was overall bummed about being such a murderous stickler.

        You on the other hand were glowing, it was subtle but he noticed, had been watching you waste away for days with no idea how to help.  "What's up with you? You seem pretty happy about the genocide of like, an entire solar system."

        You nodded towards the camera set in the corner. Gave him a look. "Oh? Wha- Ohhhh! Wait someone-" He humped the air, very subtle "After that?" You nodded but gestured at him to keep his voice down. 

        The camera observation crew wasn't large, but they had sixteen eyes dotting every angle of their bulbous heads. Mostly they had nothing but empty hallways to watch, nothing but humming electronics to listen to. It had been boring work, until you and the other Marks came along. Now there was always something to watch. There was a bunch of gossip they hadn't been able to stop talking about in their alien language, burbling about what clearly happened between you and Markus last night. But they didn't tell the Emperor. Oh no. 

        Emperor Mark was good to them. Spared their species, gave them a place to stay and food to eat but sometimes? Mark had a temper. Even if nothing observed was directly their fault, he'd get angry at the very fact it happened. He'd killed more than one observation team member over less. So they kept it to themselves. Not everything- if they told him nothing at all he'd kill them all replace the whole team but sometimes, when it was easy to excuse or explain away, they didn't tell him. It was never easy to select what not to tell him, he had access to the cameras and microphones set into the arm of his uniform. Whenever he watched the cameras, he was always set on you. Luckily for them, not having told the Emperor of your obvious dalliance last night, he was too busy talking to Sebastian to check. All the while you gave Seb a downright disgusting rundown of what Markus did to you. They all leaned into the handful of screens watching the mess hall, open holes for ears pointed toward the speaker.

        "Dude." Seb's trepidation melted away, now morphed into joking grins. "I can't believe he did that after like, murdering a whole planet. Like, yeah get yer steam out or whatever but I couldn't beat my meat after that if I tried. Wow. Man."

        It'd been a long, long time since you'd had a friend so openly casual to talk about sex with. You felt like a teenager again, bumping him in the side with your elbow, casually dropping the bombshell, "This part's probably going to blow your mind, he's uncircumcised."

        "What! But!" He pointed down to his own lap. "I'm- What!?"

        On one of the other screens, Sebastian and Mark stood in the great hall alone. Only a few of the observation crew watched, more interested in the drama over sex. Sebastian wanted his promised alone time with you and wanted it soon or else it'd be a very heavily implied problem. Mark didn't agree right away. He bartered back and forth. Knowing he had to give you up, but not wanting you to be alone with Sebastian very long. As much security as he had, he couldn't predict the other man. He could kill you but he was an asset to the Empire and though he talked a big game, wouldn't be coming to ask for quality time with you if he planned on killing you. He could've done it a hundred times over by now. 

        In the end, Mark relented. The time was set for later that day. The observation crew counted down the seconds until you two would collide. You unknowingly chattered on, finger boxing the air while Seb nodded like it was the most important lesson in the world.

        ***

        "So did you?" The Emperor asked.

        "Hit him again." You said.

        He grinned and pistoned his fist down into Mark's bleeding head. "Jeez babe, didn't think bringing up jerkin' it would make ya so mad."

        You were actually glad he thought you masturbated. If he find out, he'd be angry or grossly congratulatory to Markus. You leaned toward angry. Fucking you on his bed and promising your escape, probably wasn't something he was cool with, but apparently fucking Gray had been fine. Still, you didn't tell him. Had seen them fight over you once, you didn't want it to happen again.

        In Mark's head this was a game of back n' forth. Fine, you were mad about the collar. He'd make it up to you by taking you down to Mark, the asshole Mark, and beating the ever loving shit out of him. Once that was done, you'd still be mad but a little less mad and finally tell him your ultimate sexual fantasies.  

        But for now, he watched as Mark slumped forward, held up only by the cuffs. Dripping blood onto the cold metal ground. He coughed and a splatter of black mucus slapped onto the ground, onto your shoes. The Emperor hit him again just for daring to accidentally bleed on you. "Stupid fuck."

       Mark's head bobbed down, he tried to lift his head but it fell all the same. Eye whites gone red, lip split, clumps of his hair matted together. Utterly forsaken. Trapped without luck of escaping for days, worried sick about Eve. He knew he should play along, be pathetic and sorry like you must have wanted him to be. He had felt bad, really, he did, but you were also letting this happen to him because... why? He broke up with you forever ago? It was ridiculous. 

        He looked up at you with the Emperor's fist tight in his hair. "How does this fix what happened?" 

        "It doesn't." You said. But you weren't here thinking about that. You were thinking about Mohawk in those shackles instead. They had the same face after all. 

        "Then why-" Another punch to the lips shut him up, knocked two teeth out. 

        "I didn't say you could talk to her, dumbass."

        "Oh? Are you dictating who I can and can't talk to now?" Panic set in soon as you said it.

        You expected a shock but Mohawk just laughed, "There you are, babe. Missed ya." 

        Mark has no idea what was passing between you but he could feel the tension. You were stiff. Stood far away from Mohawk, as far as you could be in the cramped cell. Kept your arms crossed, eyes on Mark, never Mohawk. Anytime he reached out to you or grossly flirted you either didn't reply or were curt. 

       Mark heaved, broken ribs burning in his chest, "What is this really about, huh?" You both turned on him. "Our relationship was barely over a year. You should be over this by now."

        "Shut up." Mohawk's knee jabbed into his sternum. He was left with little air in his lungs, gasping for breath and hoping nothing inside him has popped. 

        "You think this is about our breakup? You threw me in prison, Mark."

        "Yeah? Well, so did you." Mark should listened to Mohawk but he'd never been a good listener. Not with Dad, not with you, not with Cecil.

        Your stomach went sour. "I got to leave but you're gonna fucking die down here."

         Mark defied Mohawk's grip, turned his head toward you, pierced you with those red eyes and spat another loose tooth onto the floor. "You're an evil person, (Y/n), I dodged a bullet with you." 

        You surged forward. Grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face down into the tall back of the cuffs that engulfed his arms. Mohawk actually did the slamming, no human could push a Viltrumite around like that, not even while weakened. Still, you took the catharsis where you could, puppeteering Mohawk to slam Mark's head into the metal over and over. 

        When it was done, all Mark's teeth were on the floor or crushed backwards into his fractured jaw. You were quiet when you realized you felt no better. The thing he said swirling in your mind, you were evil. Everyone had been surprised by you, by parts of you you had thought were intrinsic. You were angry and spiteful and a killer and none of them had expected it. Mark had evil versions of himself, that was easy to swallow and understand. But the fact that you were the evil (Y/n) was harder. Mohawk tried rubbing your back, "Don't you feel better, babe?"

        You jerked away from him, jolted from your thoughts by his touch. "No." 

        He frowned at you. "No?" He didn't get it. By all accounts, violence should've made you calmer, the way it did for him. The way he swore it did for you too.

        You could see the comparison on his face, confused because you were like him. Evil and angry and fucked up, and he was right.

        "She wouldn't want this." You didn't need to say who, he already knew. You gestured to Mark, barely holding onto consciousness. "I'm-" You couldn't say you weren't okay with this because you were. Seeing Mark hurt felt so good but what he said felt so bad. He would've been better off with Mohawk's version of you but instead he got you and threw you away. 

        "Oh baby, don't let that asshole get to you. I miss her, I do, but that bitch betrayed me. I dodged a bullet with her and I'm so happy for that. You're not like her- you get me." Because you were the evil one. He reached out for you but you leaned away. "Is this about the collar? I already told you, it'll come off once you calm down."

        You didn't meet his eye. "Of course it's about the fucking collar." You waited for a shock but it didn't come. Ah, right, he liked it when you were mean, but not mean enough to emasculate him. What a fine line. 

        "So you are still mad."

        "You think bringing me down here fixes shit? You took my powers away."

        He laughed, hands on hips. "I didn't take your powers away. I just had a lab team analyze the sound waves of your voice and isolate the- whatever, the science doesn't matter. They're not gone, you can be mad at me about it. That's fine, but you can't shut me out forever."

        Your eyes narrow on him. "Wanna bet?"

        "Please. You missed me so much while I was away you fucked yourself on my bed." 

        Technically, "I didn't!" You spluttered, looked down at Mark who you couldn't tell was conscious or not. You really should not be having this conversation here. 

        He poked the collar, "That monitors a lotta shit goin' on in your body. Even your oxytocin levels, which were high as fuck. You can admit to masturbating there's no shame in it."

        "I-" It'd probably be better if he didn't know about Markus. "Don't try to change the subject!"

        "Oh, you sooo jerked off thinking about me." His smug smile made you want to hit him. You kneed Mark in the temple instead. "See? The punching bag is helping us communicate, get a little sexual tension going, bond a little. You get it."                                                                       

        "I don't wanna fuck you!"

        He looked unconvinced, "Uh-huh."

        "I don't." It came out a growl. 

        "I believe you." He obviously didn't.

        He wasn't taking you serious. Grinning at you like taking away your autonomy was a game. "I only came down here to pretend he's you. Kinda helps that he is."

        The playful expression slid off his face. "You've got it so fuckin' good and you don't even know."

        "Do I really? Cuz I'm pretty sure I'm being held prisoner."

        "He's being held prisoner." Mohawk tapped the restraints with his boot. "You are bein' wined and dined and complaining about it. Do you know how many people I killed yesterday? I don't. Kregg estimated two million. I've got so much political shit to do you can't even begin to comprehend, but I'm down here, spending my insanely valuable time, with you. Trying to fix us because I give a shit and you? Well, you just can't be bothered."

        It'd be smart to back down, to play the good pet, speed up the removal but you can't hold the anger back. "There was no us the second you put this ugly thing on me."

        "You don't get a say in if there's an us or not." He was smiling but there was no joy in it.

         You gave him the same look in turn, "Just like she didn't, huh? How'd that work out for you?" 

        His fingers twitched with the temptation to hit the remote shock. The asshole's body shuddered as he coughed more blood onto the floor. The sound broke something between you two. No, Mark thought, shocking you now would only make things worse.

         You turned to the door but couldn't leave without him. "I'm done."

        He let you out.

        ***

        There was a sick sort of satisfaction Mark got from parting ways with you. Him to the council room with Gray and Markus already waiting, to mull over what planets to hit next and when. You to meandered in the halls looking for Seb. You wouldn't find him, wouldn't find anybody because he had that whole section of the ship practically evacuated. Sebastian had been proving to be quite the staff killer. Useful or not he'd kill anyone over anything. Walking into his line of sight was a big enough offense to end multiple lives. It was no skin off Mark's back. The staff was replaceable but still- he preferred not to lose a big chunk of them if things went wrong. He had almost regretted setting up the meeting earlier in the day, but now he was glad it would happen.

        Thula would ensure he didn't kill you but Mark was clear, Sebastian could hurt you. Not terribly, but you could use a few bruises. It'd do wonders for that attitude of yours. You'd be a lot more grateful for Mark and all his mercies once big bad Sebastian cornered you alone- what a surprise. 

        You turned away from the door, dejected. Looked like Seb was busy. You turned down the hall to check some of his usual stations. At the hall's distant end you saw him. Could tell who it was by his darker gray uniform and longer hair peaking past his shoulders. You turned the other way, scurried for the stairs, as quietly as you could. Hoping he hadn't seen you.

        He had. Could hear your heart rate spike from here. 

        He sped toward you right as you looked over your shoulder, checking to make sure he wasn't following. He was. You bumped right into him, already standing in front of you. Smiling at you with all his teeth, scar stretching wide, exposing more of his gums, "Hello, Honey." 

        You stumbled back, trying to recover, to stand up straight like you weren't scared out of your mind. "I don't wan-"

        He had you against the wall. Hand hard on your throat over that thick turtle neck you were wearing. Your resolve couldn't stop the sharp gasp at the feeling, the fabric couldn't stop his fingers from shutting you up. He remembered well how the last time you talked to him went. The humiliation. The pain of setting his jaw back in place. No human should ever make him feel that way, but you had a habit of doing so. Back then and now. 

        "Can't make me dislocate my jaw like this, can you?" It was a low whisper, the last time he had been this close to you he was trying to kill you. 

        Your eyes bulged, your heart a thundering mess of panic. Your hands flew to his, trying to worm your fingers under his palm but it was like a concrete vice. You kicked at him, wriggled your body but it did nothing but make him smirk.

        You couldn't see her, but Thula stayed in her spot at the end of the hall. Watching. Listening to her earpiece for Emperor Mark to tell her when to step in. He didn't say a thing. Watching on his own monitor during Kregg's run through of potential targets. Markus and Gray listened fine enough for him. He needed to see you learn your lesson, you needed him to protect you.

        "Got nothing to say?" Sebastian cooed, leaning in further. His hand kept you pinned to the wall but his body caged you in now. You only thrashed harder against him, just like old times. "No apology? No 'hi, how are you?' So rude."

        Your head throbbed, felt like it was filling with hot air. There was nothing you could do. 

        You'd been in a situation like this before. A rival organization figured out your powers, gagged you, were going to kill you. You had to become a good mime quick to make them untie you and kill themselves. It was instinct at this point, the collar under the thick fabric forgotten. You held up an an open palmed hand, a clear sign for him to stop, power pulsing through your panicked veins.

        He did. You felt the connection snap into place. His fingers slowly going soft enough for you to breathe, but not enough to escape. No matter how much you thrashed and how deep your hold was, the command only went so far. Hand gestures were always a little hit or miss but at least you still had them, no shock accompanying your panic.

        The connection only lasted so long before it broke and the hand around your throat tightened. "You tricky bitch."

        You moved to make the gesture again. Your hands were captured in a blur and forced down, pressed together infront of your hips. "Same move twice in a row?" His fingers pulsed, making your vision blur, "You're dumber than I remember." He liked that. There were no bomb plans tinkering around in your head, no sirree. 

        You were the same in how you thrashed with your airways held shut. It made him nostalgic. He wondered if he could barter for more time to hang around you. Become a constant fear and maybe a fri- not friend, never friend. Pet. You were just a pet. One he could do whatever he wanted to- except when the Emperor said so. God, he hated this place. 

       Hated how your neck felt under his palm. There was weird chunky inline to the fabric getting in his way. When he choked someone he liked to feel the blood trying to pump through the skin, stopped by his hold. His fingers shifted to tear the neckline away.

        He shot back. A wall of air slapped by him. Yanked you away from the wall and set you down a few feet away. Coughing and spluttering, held upright by Lensless who shouldn't have even be in this part of the ship. Mark said he'd get you both alone.

        "Why are you here?" Sebastian snarled at Lensless's hands on you, gentle and supporting. 

        "I got all my stuff done super fast so I could see (Y/n)." That was partially true, but he also got a feeling when Mark added surprise work to his load that something was up involving you. It was luck that he went to check the rooms first. "Like you're doing, silly."

        "I'm not here to see (Y/n)." Sebastian said while prowling forward, eyes set on you. Lensless was faster, if he thought Sebastian was going to lunge he'd be out of reach by the time he got to you. Sebastian had to be strategic. Needed to get his hands back on you. Without you under them, he felt somehow less real. He didn't know what that meant. Just that he wanted you back, bad.

        Lensless laughed but didn't back up. "Then what were you doing just now?"

        "Choking her. Obviously."

        Lensless sighed as if exasperated. "Look bro. All that desert stuff was fun n' all but stuff's like, different here. We can't be doin' that, plus I don't think she liked it that much anyway. Check it, I changed up strategy and look how close we are." Lensless half turned his head toward you, pulled you closer by tapping on his cheek. Right. The obligatory greeting. 

        You didn't want to. Not with Sebastian's beady eyes on you but if you didn't, Lensless just might expose the collar. He had already saved you from exposure, things would be so much worse if he changed his mind. You leaned into him, pressed your lips to his cheek and just as quickly pulled away. Lensless's grin was nothing but shit eating.

        Sebastian lunged. Lensless yanked you backward out of the way, cackling. "That's the same approach as last time, bro!"

        "Shut up!" 

        They ping-ponged through the hall. Lensless holding you to his chest, dragging you backward in a whirlwind. Letting Sebastian get close enough to almost catch you by the ankles before pulling back. He couldn't help it, scaring you was just so fun. He intended to stop, not let Sebastian get hold of you, but just wanted a few more moments of you pressed tightly to him, scared and pliant. 

        Mark put his fingers to his earpiece, grumbling. "Mind stopping them from damaging the ship?"

        Before Lensless could call for timeout, Thula was between the two. Holding both of the men by the throat, stopping them dead in their tracks.

        "No roughhousing outside of the training arena." She said flatly before her hands flew open and she hovered backward to her original far removed position.

        You only saw her for a second, didn't understand how one person could make the two walking wrecking balls stop but they did. She'd had them both in her grip for a mere moment but they felt it then- her strength. Together they could beat her but alone, not a chance. They had to remember there were rules in a place like this. Rules that if they kept breaking would mean the privilege of seeing you would be taken away. Their leashes tightened. 

        They landed, uneasy, tension taught between them. "Fun while it lasted." Lensless said, stretched his arms up and over his head. You stumbled away from him. 

        It was a small opening but one Sebastian took. Lunging on you, not knowing what he wanted other than to feel your skin under his but there was too many clothing. The neck of your sweater was gone in an instant, ripped down your chest. He lifted his hand to give you necklace but there was already one there.

       Sebastian paused. "What's this?" 

        Lensless made a face. "Ah shit, really dropped the ball there. My bad, (Y/n)."

        You pulled the ripped neckline up, covering the collar,  "None of your business, is what it is."

        Sebastian easily tugged your hand down. Eyed the thing. Black with a silver heart sticking out the middle. Not quite a dog collar, but pretty close. The old you would've never worn it. Such a clunky claim of ownership that didn't belong on your skin. All you needed was his hand print in purple around your neck.

        "It's ugly. Take it off." He didn't wait for a reply before he started pulling hard at it. Too hard. Tripped the sensors and set it off. Your muscles gave out with the shock. The only thing holding you up was his grip on the collar's front.

        Sebastian couldn't process what he was seeing. You relying on him to keep you upright, you suddenly crying and gasping. Hands clawing at the collar. 

        He blinked, pulled you upright and let the collar go. As soon as he did that awful snap of electricity stopped. You went slack, occasionally jerking as you gasped for air. 

        "Wow. That's a lot worse than I thought it was." Lensless circled around to your front. Lifted your head up by your chin and tilted your head back and forth, liked how your eyes were dazed and you leaned into his touch.

        "Aww, you look so sad." He liked it, but he was supposed to be trying to a new angle to get you to like him. "Poor thing."

        "What is that?" Sebastian asked though he knew what it was. 

        "A shock collar, dummy." Lensless said while you were busy trying not to pass out. "Won't let her use her powers." His hands went over his mouth, "Oops! I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

        Where was the fight in that? Without your powers you were as defenseless as she was. Weak and easy to cave to despair. He wanted you to fight, to have hope against him so you'd never leave him like that again. The idea of you powerless made him afraid, terribly afraid. What if he lost himself? What if the others did? You were so fragile and such a cunt. You wouldn't last a week like this.

        "Who put this thing on you?" But he already knew. "I'll kill him." He looked up, trying to find the cameras hidden in the walls. "I'll fucking you kill you!"

        Thula laughed meanly from her station. He turned on her, practically foaming at the mouth. Sure, seeing you pathetic and crying made his cock twitch- but this wasn't the right kind of pathetic. It was the easy way out to forcing submission. Knowing himself, he'd come around to it, tolerate it awhile, have his fun, but for now, he was angry. It was a crossed line, a stake of ownership when you were obviously meant to be Sebastian's.

        "Go ahead and try, boy." Thula said, "I saw how you looked coming out of that desert." 

       He wouldn't win. Even with Lensless supporting, which he doubted the little fucker would right now, looking a little too content with the situation. He needed to kill something. The ship was still stationed at the solar system's edge. There were bound to be survivors. He left in a whirlwind that nearly knocked you off your feet if it weren't for Lensless. Thula's speed nearly knocked Lensless off his feet. You were alone. He'd managed to loose Lucan some minutes ago and knew you didn't have much time alone.

        "You know," Lensless said, "That went a lot better than I thought it would." You glared at him, yanked yourself out of his hold and stumbled into a wall to stay upright. "Ugh, I knooooow that was crazy but I promise he's a lot of fun. He didn't know it would hurt you."

        "He just choked me out." Your voice was a raspy whisper.

        "Okay, but like, that's classic him! He thought you'd use your powers. He likes to act all tough but he loooves your powers. It's all we'd talk about in the desert. So nice actually seeing you use them again." He said lowly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the big guy if you don't. Our secret. You'll owe me though."

        You put your finger to your lips and felt your power slip around his mind, he was blissfully quiet. Shaking with excitement because you finally used your powers on him after so long. The connection didn't last long in your weakness but when it was gone he grinned big, "God, I love that."

        You coudln't stand him looking at you like that- annoying endearing as it was. You held up your finger and did a flicking u-turn motion, trying to get him to turn around. In Lensless's mind you wanted him to twirl around so he did. When he stopped, he was smiling even bigger. "Oh, you like my outfit?"

        "I'm trying to get you to turn around." You grunted. Hand signals were a good thing to have as a last resort, but they weren't very strong or precise. "Let's go." You picked a direction and start walking on wobbily feet.

        "We're hanging out? Ooh, what're we gonna do? What do you wanna do to me?"

        You groaned but don't make him leave. After Sebstian almost popped your head off and shocked the shit out of you, you'd prefer to have someone around to keep you alive. Even if it was this asshole.

        Mark had watched you struggle, a fly in a web. He half listened the Kregg. Making mental note to visit the lab later and kill whatever technician left a loophole in the power detection systems. Then he'd assign the work to Phantom- if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself, as the saying goes. 

         Phantom been adapting well enough to Viltrum tech. Threw himself hard into the work ever since he was assigned. The lab boys told Mark there was nothing suspicious going on yet- Phantom understood the tech on a base level, there was no way he could hide something from them. Mark and the tech team didn't account for Phantom ever helping Cecil Stedman deconstruct the uniform his father came to Earth in. Laced with Viltrumite technology he helped decode early in his superheroing career. He'd already begun to keep secrets. Sttarting ripping the code from the bio-engineers systems. Slowly because he couldn't get caught, making his own remote. It wouldn't be done for some time but somebody had to save you. Not right away, he had to wait for the perfect time, get the most impact. Let you know it was him who freed you because he cared. But that was far in the future. For now, he watched you from an access panel he modified on his prosthetic as he worked away at the brain chips. You'd be safe soon.

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about little orphan Loona

What came over Loona in this newest Helluva Boss short? And why did the reaction of a mortal fluster her the way it did? You know the drill, let’s get into it with another Fizziepop take:

Ok, so we all know Loona as a generally angry, hurt them before they hurt you type of girl; the type who does her best to make sure she doesn’t get too attached because she views needing people as a sort of weakness on her part…. But as the show has gone on, we’ve slowly but surely gotten to see Loona evolve. Are the changes dramatic? Aside from the changes that came directly following the events of the episode “Mastermind”, no, they aren’t, but if you look at the reality of human nature, changes like the ones we see in Loona tend to be small and slow, and given the way the demon world Vivzie has created mirrors real world themes, that makes sense… But in this Loona-centric short, why was this the way that she was portrayed?

I wanna start by first looking at the way Loona was portrayed in the beginning of the series. In the beginning, Loona was mostly a background character that seemed to be just the hot, take-no-shit adult daughter of our protagonist Blitz; she was sarcastic, strong-willed, and deeply protective of herself against any outside affection. We eventually learn through Blitz’s flashbacks while helping Stolas deal with his own daughter running off with no explanation,that Loona’s guarded behavior was the result of likely being in and out of a broken foster/adoption system for roughly the first 18 years of her life, and more than likely being abused verbally and physically by not only the staff in the Pound meant to protect her, but the other hellhounds in her same situation, and we get confirmation of Loona being returned to the pound on at least one occasion during her interaction with a hellhound she apparently lived with before her final adoption when she’s at Queen Bee’s party. Given the fragmented story of her life BB (Before Blitz), Loona’s guarded and aggressive behavior makes sense as an adult; after years living her life in survival mode, that switch wouldn’t just flip off when she’s in a safe situation because years of “safe” situations becoming unsafe or unstable quicker than she could process would’ve taught her that there is no other way to live but to be in survival mode constantly, that she had to stay ready for things to uproot of for people she was comfortable with to turn on her so she didn’t have to scramble to get ready when it happened… So even after Blitz took her in, fed her, clothed her, gave her a safe space with him, and gave her a job so she was able to take care of herself in adulthood, we still get that angry, hurt them first type of mentality from her when we’re introduced to her in the show.

Now, the Loona we’re introduced to in the beginning isn’t the Loona we’re stuck with, and we get to see her tough exterior crack every once and a while throughout the show, with her biggest change coming in the episode “Mastermind” when her adoptive father is set to be executed in front of her. At this point in the show, I believe Loona has been said to have been with Blitz roughly 5 or so years, which is why we get to see those small shifts in her demeanor through the series, but I don’t think Loona ever really sees him as a father figure despite seeing him and acknowledging his place as her father. Why? Because I think Loona sees Blitz the way a lot of us in the fandom see Blitz: as a big kid.

While Blitz is said to be in his 30s, his free spirit, fun loving attitude, inability to maintain most adult interactions, and deep-seeded unresolved trauma give Blitz the vibe of someone closer to mid to late teens, or the “still a kid” version of early 20s. Does the man try to be a good father to her? Absolutely. Does he know how? Not really. Blitz, still recovering from his own fucked up childhood, doesn’t entirely know what a parent (more specifically a dad) should be, he just has a vague understanding of what he doesn’t want to be based off of how his own father was with him, and while I think he did a pretty kickass job considering what he was working with, it’s likely that Loona still sees him as too immature to really be a dad despite knowing that he by technicality is her dad… Which bring us to the newest short in the series, “Mission: Orphan Time”.

In “Mission: Orphan Time”, Blitz brings his daughter into the field to assassinate a children’s entertainer by the name of  Mr. Wrigglers who happen to be doing children's entertainment at a charity for dying orphans and injured puppies… While Blitz brought Loona out with him for this because he had planned for there to be a day of bonding, Loona couldn’t bring herself to actually go through with the job because the man they had been hired to off seemed like a genuinely nice, caring man, and although she would probably never admit to it, I think the man she saw was reminiscent of what she wanted in a parent growing up; especially after seeing the man say goodbye to all of his children… All of his adopted children….. His adopted children who were apparently kids that were labeled too troubled or too hard to adopt out…. His troubled, adopted children who he seems to love unconditionally…… and that is all that I think Loona really ever wanted.

Loona, a child of adoption who had been given up on by the system in her home ring of Hell, looked at this man and his soft, gentle parent demeanor and the way he requested to say goodbye to every last one of his children, and how each kid seemed to have the relationship with him that meant losing him seemed like a shot to the heart, and saw the type of parent she had always dreamed of; a parent who would love, accept, and support her unconditionally and without a second thought. I know a lot of you will read this and think I’m full of shit, because “Fizzie, Loona already has a parent who loves, accepts, and supports her unconditionally: Blitz”, and everyone saying that would be right, but I think one of the things that drew Loona to this mortal man was that not only does he have those loving qualities, but he has the maturity and stability that Blitz has never quite shown her with his antics over the years.

I think that this short, though less than 6 minutes, was a peek into Loona subconsciously realizing that she wanted something and someone like this; someone steady and dependable and soft. As much as Loona has changed over the course of the show, and as much as she loves her adoptive father, I think that she hasn’t quite gotten to see the changes she’s needed to see from Blitz for her to fully recognize him as a fully safe place, and I don’t think Blitz really understands why that softness and security  is so important to her, or how he can become what she needs…. Will the pair ever get to that point? Will Loona ever not feel that sort of insecurity with Blitz? How will a single mortal's reaction to the real her impact Loona's mental health now?

We may never fully know, but regardless, I’m excited for Vivzie to keep taking us on this ride to find out.

[concretejunglefm]

hiya your writing is so awesome, I read your fics every day! I'm pretty sad and in my feels so I'd like to make a request, but feel free to ignore if it's too mushy - since noah's become so buff and healthier and even fixed his teeth, reader feels insecure (small body, very out of shape, crooked teeth, the works) and feels like she/they can't keep up with him

Firstly, I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, but you’re beautiful no matter what, bb. Always remember that. Secondly, I hope you like this little blurb 💕

Noah is changing, not in a bad way, he seems healthier, happier. You’re seeing changes in him you could have never imagined years ago, from his looks to his overall confidence. It’s as if he’s evolved into a new person, someone who has finally found himself amidst the chaos and uncertainty he’s lived in for so long, even longer than you’ve known him, and while you certainly benefit from the change—his brighter energy, his new habits, you can’t help the worry that creps in. As if, one day, you won’t be enough in his eyes anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asks, catching you huffing into the mirror one day as you tug at your clothes.

There’s nothing wrong with them, not really, but they don’t feel right. They don’t sit the way you want them to, and lately, you’ve been scrutinizing the way you look a little too much.

“Nothing,” you mumble, turning to face him. He’s standing there, sweaty from another workout, and your brow raises slightly.

You shift on the spot, arms crossing over your chest. “You keep this up, I might need to start going to the gym just to keep up with you.” You try to keep your voice level, forcing a bit of humor into it.

“Oh yeah?” Noah teases, the corners of his mouth pulling into a faint grin as he steps toward you. “You wanna come work out with me?”

That wasn’t what you’d meant. Not really. You twist your lips, biting the corner before shrugging. “Do you think I need to go?”

A loaded question. One he could easily get wrong.

Noah seems to catch the gravity of it. He pauses, hands settling gently at your hips as he leans back just enough to look at you, head tilting, eyes filled with something soft—a mix of adoration and concern, like he’s trying to read your thoughts before you speak them.

“I don’t think you need to do anything,” he says carefully. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He tries to coax you closer, but you stay leaning back slightly, so he settles for holding your hips, leaning in instead.

“I just…” You sigh, your gaze dropping to his chest, forehead resting against the sweat-soaked fabric of his t-shirt.

“I just feel like maybe I’m not gonna be good enough. Like you’re outgrowing me.”

Your hand moves to pick at the hem of his shirt while he looks down at you, brow furrowed, quietly taking in your words.

“Because I’m working out?” he asks softly.

“Because you’re doing things to better yourself. And what if one day you decide another way to do that is…”

“Without you?” he finishes for you.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a soft “yeah” slipping between your lips.

“Baby,” he breathes, and his hands move up to cradle your face, tilting your head so you’re fully looking at him. “I’m doing this because I want to be better for you.” His thumbs brush gently along your cheeks.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? How amazing? I’ve spent so much time trying to keep up with you. Wanting to be someone good enough—for you, but also for me. And when I look at you, I see someone who loved me at my worst. Who stayed when I was the worst version of myself—at least in my own eyes.” He exhales, voice thick with emotion. “And now… now I feel like I can give you more. Be more. So I’m not outgrowing you. I’m not leaving you behind. I’m doing all of this for us. For our future together. Okay?”

He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, brushing the softest kiss to your lips.

You mumble an “okay” against his mouth, body sinking into his, arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he holds you close, hands still cradling your face like you’re something precious, because to him, you are.

[writerjayne]

Wymack owns apartments au

This was inspired by my friend and their wacky ass neighbors in their Apartment complex (including one who is apparently wanted by the police??) We were talking about said neighbors and I went: what if the Foxes lived in the same apartment? But Exy wasn't a thing because being a team gives them a common interest (using that word very loosely), and just being neighbors would not. So without further ado, have this AU that I'll probably never write a full fic of:

So, keeping Wymack in character: he owns an apartment complex focused on renting to people who would be rejected/denied housing by other companies. He inherited it from his parents who were awful to thier tennatns and borderline slumlords. Wymack poured everything he had into the apartments, renovating and modernizing them, determined to make something better than his parents could ever dream of. Wymack lives on the premises and every opportunity he has to do the opposite of what his parents would do, he does. 

Dan's a stripper and can only pay cash? She has an awful credit score, but hey, rent's getting paid, why would Wymack care? (Eventually, he rents some units to her stage sisters too) Matt eventually moves in with Dan, and Wymack doesn't bat an eye. 

Nicky showed up as a 19 year old with two 15 year olds who he has custody of? Wymack knocked a wall down between two units so they had 3 rooms (even if they stayed in each other's rooms half the time Wymack understood the twins may need space and privacy as they get older), and he gave them a discounted rate until Nicky got a solid job.

Kevin escapes his abusive adoptive family and runs to the only other person he knows outside of that circle. If he has no money/prospects? Wymack knew Kevin's mother, of course, he'll take the kid in, set him up with an assistant manager job, and get him enrolled in classes so he can get a certification while also helping Kevin with the legal side of things. Kevin sleeps on Wymack's couch for a month before he's comfortable having his own apartment.

Renee, needing to start over far away from her old gang? Her mother called Wymack and he had a unit free. She quickly befriends other tenants and suggests a community garden to Wymack who is happy to oblige. (Andrew often gardens with her and everyone thinks the friendship is weird) She and Andrew bond per canon and Renee becomes the heart of the complex and as much of a unifying force as she can be given the circumstances.

Allison, disowned and cut off from family money, with no job? Wymack sets her up with a unit and helps her apply for jobs, telling her she won't pay rent until she has a job, as long as she keeps applying. She finds a job within the month and Wymack holds off on charging her rent anyway.

Seth can't hold a job and has multiple evictions on his record? Wymack still gives him a chance. Second and third ones too when rent's not paid. Or when cops show up looking for him. Or when he starts fights with his neighbors. Wymack can see the scared kid who just needs someone to believe in him. 

So when Neil shows up, clearly trouble and too young to be on his own, desperately trying to come across as normal, Neil, who flinches when Wymack moves too fast, but offers enough cash to cover first and last months' rent plus double Wymack's normal deposit request? Wymack asks no questions and simply sets him up in the unit across from Nicky and the twins. 

It would be easy for them to be the kind of neighbors who never interact, but enough of our Foxes are friendly/nosey that I think they would all eventually become friends. So here's how I think some of that would happen:

Allison and Seth do date but it would be a lot more volatile than cannon (though never abusive) with lots of fighting that everyone else in the building just get used to. (Dan and Renee always check on Allison and Matt eventually becomes friends with and starts checking in with Seth too) 

Renee is everyone's friend and often bakes (just seems like her vibe) she unintentionally scares the crap out of Neil his first night by dropping off some chocolate chip cookies to welcome him to the building. (Much later, she's very apologetic about it, and Neil is able to acknowledge that it wasn't anyone's fault. Besides, he had never been upset with her over it, just cautious)

Nicky is the nosiest neighbor but not to the point of invading people's privacy. Anytime there's movement outside, he's peeking out the windows and has been known to crack the window open to listen to loud conversations/arguments outside. He does know everything about everyone even though he hasn't been here the longest.

Aaron is still going to med school, Andrew and Nicky are supporting him.

Andrew often goes up to the roof to smoke (boy likes to be tall) and this is how he and Neil actually meet face to face. (Andrew was aware that there was a new tenant but hadn't seen him) Neil sits up there to burn cigarettes and stargaze, kinda. Andrew immediately is like 'this kid is weird, let's figure out all his secrets,' and Neil is basically along for the ride.

Neil would still be on the run but maybe from just his dad, Mary did still die so Neil was desperate for a slice of normal and took a chance with Wymacks apartments. I haven't expanded this to much further than what I've shared here so I don't have all the answers or even a plot really but I think Neil would pull everyone together like canon.

Layout-wise (if you're curious), I'm picturing we have Building 1:

First floor- Dan and Matt in A1, Allison in A2, Renee in A3 and Seth in A4

Second floor- Nicky and the twins in unit A5 and A6. Across from them is Neil in A7 and Kevin in A8 

Basement has washers and dryers as well as storage units for each apartment. 

Building 2 has Wymack's double unit (B1 and B2), Kevin still crashes here sometimes but Wymacks door is always open to anyone who needs to talk. Abby also has a unit in building 2, B5, and she also helps out where she can. 

Building 3 has an assortment of different tenants, some of Dan's stage sisters, a couple small families and a couple single person units. 

[paesagex]

Kpop Demon Hunters: when a great movie fails at the last moment

SPOILER ALERT under the cut

Let me start with this, artistically speaking this movie was incredible, and up until the ending I thought it was doing something really cool.

While it was going on I was imagining how touching it must have been for people going through challenging times right now, literally fighting their demons. The story was offering an awakening through music and art, and that was amazing.

Until…

Until Jinu died. As did his friends.

And the girls kept slaughtering demons until the very end.

Of course demons that we were not given a reason to care about, even though us viewers and the Huntrix at this point all know that… demons are people. Sometimes, even innocent people, who just fell prey to their insecurities.

The whole point was that… we are our own demons. And from the start of the movie, the message that was being built was that the only way to truly fight them is self acceptance and understanding.

Wasn’t the whole deal with the new Honmoon barrier to start a new era? One where the Hunters would have done things differently?

Even Zoey and Mira themselves, heroes, almost got possessed by Gwi-Ma. This proves them no better than the demons they killed. And kept killing.

The only difference between them is that in their case nobody saved them.

However, the Huntrix failed at understanding that they’re the same as all the demons, and failed at changing things for real.

Not only that, but the final resolution that allows for the end of our Heroes’ journey is partially incomplete.

It handled perfectly Rumi’s arc, gave her the courage to face who she really is and open up to the world. To those living a similar situation as her, she can be a great role model now.

There are many in the world who never did anything wrong and suffer from discrimination for no reason. Who grow demons inside their heads that they don’t deserve. And all of them need a Rumi to give them hope.

But…. what about the people who made mistakes? What about people who are more like Jinu? Those who broke down in a situation of difficulty? Who couldn’t be an unbreakable pop star?

What do they get?

Let me be clear. Of course Rumi and Jinu were not on the same level. Jinu was a coward and caused his family’s likely death because of his own greediness.

However, I don’t think death was a proper conclusion for his arc.

When a real person makes a horrible mistake, they don’t get a great sacrifice to redeem themselves. Most of the time, they can just go on and keep going with that weight in their chest, and the only thing they can do when the mistake is unresolvable is trying to be a better person next time.

This story was trying to tell us something about accepting yourself and opening up to others.

But such a message can’t exclude finding a resolution through guilt, even if deserved.

Exactly because our own nature is unchangeable and we must accept ourselves as we are, we must accept that we’re imperfect creatures. We’re not always strong, we can’t always live up to our ideals.

Moments of failure, even with hurtful consequences, are inevitable.

For everyone.

Pretending this isn’t a part of accepting yourself is not an option, and killing off Jinu despite the fact he showed he was ready to take responsibility for his mistake and grow is doing exactly that.

It’s as if a story about facing the fear of death ended with the finding of eternal life.

That’s not something that has ever been written because that is not a viable solution to people who fear death. The only thing as humans that we can do is accept it.

If a story finished with eternal life and considered it a happy ending, the reader would be left with nothing.

This is why the Huntrix couldn’t just kill Gwi-Ma, because humans will always have to fight with their inner demons.

But I feel like the “correct” ending would have been for the Honmoon to be gone, not restored. And for the boys and the girls to cooperate into helping other demons heal.

Healing by either accepting things about themselves that are unchangeable, or something they did that can be never forgiven, or even both, and grow up from it to be better.

I guess since the Honmoon didn’t turn gold that at least the demons aren’t completely locked out, so maybe this isn’t the end, but as for now…

The way it ended only offers forgiveness and growth from the inner voices that are “easier” to fight. Those that exist only in your head. But what about when the consequences of our actions are what haunts us, uh?

What do we do then? We die?

What a let down.

[1tbls]

(NOTE: unfinished post that is probably going to remain so, but i liked the thoughts here so i wanted to publish this from my drafts finally. not gonna edit or polish, haven't touched this in half a year, enjoy ♥️)

some thoughts about jean vs. kim as narrative contrasts, through their self-comparisons to harry.... and what their approaches to harry tell us about their class consciousness.

this post is 9 paragraphs long. please clap.

So. Jean compares himself to Harry, and he doesn't seem to understand why neither he nor Harry can get better. While Harry is the focus of his ire, he draws a comparison between them by calling them both garbage. He calls his own 7-year depression a medical anomaly, despite the fact that depression isn't really something you can cure, and not exactly a mystery given their socioeconomic circumstances. If he's dismissive of his own 7 years of suffering, of course he's derisive about Harry's disability and mental illness. He sees Harry fail over and over, and he frames it as deliberate. As though Harry just isn't trying hard enough, just doesn't want to be a healthy, functioning member of society. If Jean's inability to get better is a personal failing, Harry's inability is that 100 times. Any time Harry is sick or relapses or struggles, it's just another personal failing Jean sees reflected that he should deride him for.... How else will he change? Why can't he just overcome himself?

I think there's this fear/hatred of their similarities because Jean doesn't want that to be his inescapable future, doesn't want to think he could be crushed under capitalism the same way (one) (two). So he refuses to look at their issues within that context, and instead frames them as perplexing anomalies. "Why can't Harry and I get better despite the fact we live in poverty and are addicted to drugs just to function in our job that sees us brutalizing other human beings daily? A mystery! I am going to ascribe this as an inherent failure in both our persons and fuel my hatred of us both." He sneers at Trant even suggesting that Harry's (/their) struggles are reinforced by the system they are trapped within.

When Jean expresses views like "no one gets married in Revachol" or being frustrated with sensitivity training... He's clearly bitter about the state of society, but his comments seem more targeted towards personal, moral degradation, rather than injustice or inequality under the Moralintern. I think Jean being 10 years younger might contribute to this. He's only ever lived in a world run by the MI, and perhaps he can't imagine anything besides their benevolence. It's the RCM and the MI who brought the about the wealth and stability of the '30s, after all. It's not the same anymore. It's too late for us. He's garbage, Harry's garbage, everyone's garbage.

Kim compares himself to Harry, sees Harry's struggles, and... He isn't perfect at first either! Initially, he almost refuses to acknowledge Harry's amnesia and withdrawal, but he does try to meet Harry with understanding. In your very first conversation with Kim, you can tell him that you're not really a cop, and his response is to tell you that he feels that way sometimes, too (but there's still a job to do, officer). Perhaps Kim is understanding to a fault, at times. He understands why other cops take bribes, to survive. When you find speed in Klaasje's bathroom, he's curious about it, to the point of considering using it himself. Kim understands why people do these things, because it's a fucking hard life out there.

Now, something that sets Kim apart from Jean, is that Kim is intimately familiar with the fact that his circumstances go beyond him as individual. He is constantly faced with the context of anti-Seolite racism, and how it colors others' view of him. He started from one of the harshest beginnings, with both parents dead and growing up an impoverished, bullied orphan. I think this is where so much of his kindness comes from, empathy gained from his own obstacles he has had to struggle through.

Yet, Kim still thinks that if he can prove himself as an individual, that will somehow exempt him. He's desperate to be such a good cop and Vacholiere that it eclipses that fact that he is Seolite, a binoclard, a poor little orphan, the many things that have isolated him. Like Jean, there's this fallacial logic on individual versus system, but here seems to be more learned helplessness rather than reactionary self-hatred (though Kim has that too, with the internalized racism). Kim doesn't like to have opinions on "facts" like the MI, so perhaps his logic is something like "You can't change 'facts' (the overwhelming power of the system), but you can change yourself." Fixing the system seems insurmountable, like asking the laws of physics themselves to change. All he believes in is the RCM, where he can bring his little grain of sand to the anthill every day, where it's swept over by a boot heel every evening.

Kim is at a point of consciousness where he is empathetic of the actions others take to survive in their flawed system, but paralyzed to take that logic any farther. Now, others have written excellent analysis about how partnering with and loving Harry is going to radicalize Kim. He looks between himself and Harry, and if this white, Double-Yefreitor, fucking detective god can be thrown to the gutter.... Will Kim and his hard work ever actually matter to the RCM or to Revachol? Honestly, I can imagine Kim going through a period of depression and apathy after this disillusionment with the RCM, because if changing yourself/individual action doesn't help, and changing the system is impossible, what can you even do?

And that comes to Kim's other obstacle towards radicalization... Being deeply lonely and isolated. He's always been cast as the outsider, and he's created this guarded and curated persona in reaction. The man has no class consciousness/solidarity for exactly the same reason. He's had so few allies in his life, how can he imagine power in solidarity? How can he imagine it when it has not been offered to him? Of course he can only turn to individual action, which will always be meager and demoralizing before the weight of the world's problems.

Despite Jean and Kim's differing approaches towards Harry and society at large, I think they make the same fundamental mistake... Focus on individual actions or failings invariably loops back into hatred, for others and yourself. I think Harry's friendship and respect is a step towards healing this for Kim, but I'm not sure it's the salve for the part of him that will still think "Ah, he sees beyond the fact that I'm a bino Seolite!" I don't think Kim can truly believe in opposing the MI and capitalism, until he stops thinking of himself as something to be overcome.

Bibliography of posts linked here, as well as posts that influenced this one <3 Thank u for your beautiful thoughts, mwah mwah:

Linked:

@renmorris (one) (two)

@convoloutedinjoke (one)

me <3

Inspiration:

@lastwave (one) (two)

@smokedgastropod (one)

@kryaaas (one)

[aurieeeeeenyx]

while it's still pride month, here are my thoughts on a potential queer interpretation of kpop demon hunters in no particular order

before anyone starts getting mad, i just want to remind you that this is all in good fun and if you disagree, that's totally fine. however, as a queer person, i see a lot of parallels in this movie that resonate with my own experiences and those that i've seen from others in the queer community.

first of all, kpdh and rumi's character arc in particular focus a lot on resisting expectations in order to be authentically yourself. while this is not an exclusively queer experience, and is in fact one that real life idols must contend with, i think any queer person can relate to hiding your true self in order to conform to the "image" other people hold you to.

the song "Golden" really feels like a queer anthem in this sense; while i definitely relate to the bicultural experience zoey alludes to in her lines, "i lived two lives / tried to play both sides / but i couldn't find my own place", i think it also is a feeling many closeted people know well, especially bi, aro/ace, and nonbinary people. mira's follow-up line, "called a problem child / 'cause i got too wild" can be interpreted as a reference to the scorn and ostracization many queer people face when they are too "loud" about their own identity. and rumi's quiet, "waited so long to break these walls down / to wake up, and feel like me" ? ohhh man...especially considering she was looking at herself in the mirror. trans vibe, anyone?

the pre-chorus through post-chorus of "Golden" feel so freeing after all that, as the unapologetic authenticity shines through. i think "What It Sounds Like" also reflects this theme, so i'm not going to dissect it because it'd be more of the same, but my thoughts on it essentially boil down to that song feeling like a coming out.

on the flip side, we have the shame that seems to power the demons (or at least gwi-ma) in this world. it's quite easy to say that the demons represent internal demons as well as physical ones (see the lyrics of "Free" and "What It Sounds Like"), but in the context of a queer interpretation this tie to shame specifically—rather than rage, jealousy, etc.—struck me as rather fitting. many queer people experience shame, self-loathing, and so on for being queer in a world that refuses to accept us. in the movie, the huntrix girls initially follow the age-old formula of "our faults and fears must never be seen," which also contributed to the shame that split them apart and let gwi-ma take advantage of mira and zoey. rumi herself is told over and over by celine—her own pseudo-mother—that she must shed her own identity in order to be accepted, and nearly convinces jinu of the same. internalized homophobia, who?

but again, the movie insists that shame must be overcome (i.e., the old honmoon being destroyed and replaced with a new one when "What It Sounds Like" plays, rumi showing her patterns proudly at the end of the movie, etc.) so that one can really shine. yup, the coming out vibes are strong in these scenes.

as a random side note, i thought that moment when the saja boys transform back into their demon forms after returning to the demon realm and a demon happily tells their friend, "they're just like us," was an interesting nod to the desire for representation.

now: moving on to the fact that this movie is built around kpop. while i would consider myself at most a casual kpop enjoyer, i think the reaches of kpop's "queerification" extends even beyond kpop fandom. if you're reading this post, chances are you've at least heard of the kpop fandoms on ao3, youtube, twitter, tiktok, etc. and the ships that dominate them, but even if you haven't, queer fanservice has become ever more present in the kpop sphere. plus, many fans of kpop are queer, and find community with those like them who also have the same interests. coincidence or not, the fact that kpdh is about kpop idols definitely leaves space for queerness to permeate its themes of expressing oneself freely and connecting to others with your genuine, raw self rather than a carefully constructed version of yourself.

and finally, the most important piece of evidence for this whole interpretation:

rumi's bisexual eyeliner. what an icon.

[markrex]

ok FINALLY getting around to asking you questions i’ve been so busy im gonna cry

Ok erm. Interview time twin!

these go for both pinko AND finn

favorite food?

worst fear?

favorite thing to do in their free time?

favorite outfit/accesory?

favorite media (show/movie/book)?

any extra lore you want to tell?

okay so i’m going to answer this like this:

PINKO:

pinkos favorite food would be literally anything that debbie makes for dinner, he doesn’t have a favorite because debbie’s cooking is the best to them💜💜

pinkos worst fear is being left alone because the majority of her life she was left alone since her parents shipped her off to earth because they were not like “everybody else” on her planet (to be far, pinko was literally a toddler when his parents were like “oh yeah let’s abandon our kid on earth!!!!!” so fuck them)

pinko actually enjoys reading because they enjoy learning about random shit, like she’d wake mark up in the middle of the night with the latest space fact and mark is like “oh…. that’s nice honey…” /ref LMFAOOO

pinko LOVESSSSSSS his collar and while many others think it’s dehumanizing it makes pinko feel like she has their own identity and isn’t just that creature that not many others like (fuck cecil by the way what a bitch) 

pinko is a simple creature and likes whatever mark likes 😛😛

in terms of extra lore; pinkos race (haven’t came up with a name yet) is a very intelligent species and that’s one of the things they pride themselves on and so when pinko was “falling behind” in terms of intelligence their parents had no choice but to ship them off and try again (fuck pinkos race btw they suck)

FINN:

finn’s favorite food is rice and beans (omg no way me too) because it gives him a sense of comfort since his mom use to make it all the time for either breakfast, lunch, or dinner

finn’s worst fear is not being able to live up to the expectations his father has set for him and not being able to make a difference in the world, something his mom had asked him to do before she passed

finn loves listening to music in his free time, he’s into any type of music, most of it is late or early 2000’d music or rap are his favorite

FINN LOVES HIS WOLF SHIRTS!!!!!!!!!!! he doesn’t go anywhere without them and ppl might call him cringe but at least he’s free 🐎🐎

breaking bad, he loves breaking bad for some reason he thinks it’s peak fiction, also he’s really into sonic for whatever reason (also his favorite movie is how to train your dragon because it’s PEAK and has dragons)

okay so finn’s family is interesting because his dad is like, just a demon sent from where? no one knows but his mom is fully human and similar to when debbie and nolan first met, they met after his father saved his mom and they really hit it off afterwards but then his mom got pregnant and his dad was like LMFAOOO BYE and left because he couldn’t handle that responsibility BUT he does send finn’s mom money for finn ((so she doesn’t have to take finn’s dad to court because he doesn’t want to get into that what so ever)) but after finn’s mom passed away his dad saw him once said “either you go out there and make something of yourself or stay on the streets” ((he said this to like 12 year old finn btw)) he had no choice to accept so from then on his dad has set very high expectations for him ((okay i’m done yapping))

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Hello, certified ralsei-niac! What a title, lol.

Ralsei's hat has always felt like a representation of his isolation. He wore it all through chapter 1, and at the end when he tried to tell Kris and Susie how he felt, ended up hiding in it and making himself hard to hear- he's used to being all on his own, and that made it hard for him to be open with his friends. That is, until Susie called him out on it.

He doesn't wear the hat in subsequent chapters, but it is still brought up- first, the hat rack tells him it will be there when he needs it again, but when we return to castle town in chapter 4, it's missing. It's like the part of Ralsei that was bracing itself for the time when he's inevitably abandoned again, is no longer in the forefront of his mind.

Of course, I'm sure there will come a point where he has to confront his insecurities and whatever the prophecy entails. When that happens I wonder if the hat will make another appearance. What do you think?

Well, given my terminal Ralsei fixation, you can't say it's not accurate XD

Ralsei's hat is so interesting to me, anon. It serves so many character and story functions - it's a way to disguise his appearance from Kris and Susie, it's a visual shorthand for his social anxiety... and I also believe it was designed to promote debate amongst fans. Debate about which Ralsei is "better", or perhaps even which is "truer" to his character - as if they are two entirely separate beings. That's so interesting, isn't it?

Before Chapter 3 and 4, the case could be made that Ralsei's "Boss Monster" appearance was just another layer to his disguise, a way to ingratiate himself with Kris and Susie better, while his hatted form, being more visually unique and distinct, was actually closer to his "true" form as a being of darkness. This was a really interesting line on inquiry to go down, and I do think there's still some merit to it... but the revelation that Ralsei actually likes and prefers his current appearance, going so far as to identify it as "his" face, completely turns it all on its head.

Because who should get to decide what Ralsei's "true" form is, except for Ralsei himself?

The coat-rack darkner losing Ralsei's hat in Chapter 4 feels significant, particularly as Ralsei comes to question and assert his nascent identity more and more. Like a maladaptive coping mechanism, his hat once served a function, allowing him to interact with Kris and Susie while keeping himself somewhat "protected" in case things went awry. But that same protection was also a barrier, preventing him from being fully known by them - as you point out, he mumbles into it, making him hard to hear. And it isn't until Susie prompts him that he eventually takes it all the way off.

That isn't to say, of course, that the hat may not make a comeback in a future chapter. But people's joy at seeing his behatted sprites again might be short-lived as they realise it symbolises a regression of character and confidence, more than it does a simple palette swap. Which, when considered in this light, makes the case for a "toggle" between hatted and unhatted Ralsei somewhat cruel and counter to his development as his own person.

My opinion is now that Ralsei's appearance is tied to how he himself wishes to look, and that fact alone imparts truth to it. It will be the face he chooses to wear when it comes time to take a proper stand against the forces trying to control him and his friends. That doesn't make Hatsei less valid as an aspect of his identity - as I mentioned, that hat served an important purpose for him when he needed it to, and may yet serve it again. But that's his decision to make - not ours.

[celestenoelani-blog]

Yesity yes yes. I drove a huge 18mpg SUV that I actually hated driving because public transportation isn't actually accessible to me, even after the light rail came within a mile of our house. I have a very short window of ability and lots of appointments all over the city, and public transit isn't always feasible. I also have two Autistic kids with their own appointments, and they heavily rely on predictability. I am basically am their transit service. We have two rescue dogs we take to very specific private off leash areas because they aren't great socializers. Driving is ass a lot of the time but it does give us our life.

I recently had the privilege of switching to an EV that I mostly charge when our solar panels (another HUGE privilege) are making the most energy. There are still so many problems with all of this but we are trying to do the best we can with what we have. And, as you can see, we have a LOT. A lot, lot, going for us.

I want robust and adeauqtely funded public transit that makes driving less of a go-to, even for people who like to drive just fine. I also want safe roads for drivers who are just trying to live their lives. I want, and I know we can have, truly the best of all worlds that let people get around while not ruining the environment. I want walkable cities with green spaces and quaint little towns where people can still access services. We can do all of this but paying for it all is choice, and some people really think that the choice is yes / no, instead of yes, and.

“We need better public transit and more passenger railways” — fuck yeah I’m all about this~

“… and we need to actively discourage people from owning and driving cars and it should be illegal actually” — FUCK NO.

I don’t know why pro-public transit people have to be so obnoxious about this and ostracize people who would otherwise support their cause. I also find it amusing that they’re more than willing to be massive dicks to me for not hating on cars, until I mention I’m disabled and immune compromised and a lot of times not being able to go DIRECTLY from point A to point B (and limit my exposure to other people’s germs) will stop me from being able to do things and go places. At which point they usually stop engaging with me because I don’t fit the stereotype of disabled and unable to drive.

Overall, a lot of causes shoot themselves in both feet by saying that in order to do X thing (which most people would agree is positive) they need to take Y away from you (for no good reason).