#killer said it's fine

[hannahbarberra162]

Opposites of Attraction, Chapter 2

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapter

Thank you to @nocturnalrorobin and @limitlesstildil for beta-ing this work!!

Your POV

“ - and so this Squirt is comin’ on board. Any problems and I’ll dump her overboard,” Kid yelled out to the assembled crew. He’d finally released you from his arm and demagnetized your lips now that the ship was sailing on the open water.

“No you won’t,” you said with disinterest, looking around at the ship past the assembled crew. You were familiar with some of them from wanted posters - Wire, Heat, Quincy, Emma, as well as some others you thought you recognized but weren’t sure. 

“Heh, don’t tell me what I will or won’t do. I’m the Captain here -”

“You gave yourself the nickname ‘Captain,’ doesn’t make you one,” you said dryly, now walking away from Kid and towards the mast for further inspection. Kid went red up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s not a nickname you fuckin’ bitch! This is my ship-”

“Then why’s it in quotes on your wanted posters and no one else's? Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid?” you smirked at him, making air quotes. You weren’t looking at him anymore though, you were more interested with the metal on the ship. You reached out to touch the steel-plated mast. Shitty quality , you thought to yourself. Now Kid’s chest was red too. You wondered if you could turn him red from the top of his ears down to his feet. Maybe he’d run out of blood before then and die - it was a theory you’d like to test.

“Besides, you can’t throw me overboard. I would fuck your shit up before you got the chance,” you said, now touching the shitty iron. Damn, what did they pry this off of? A kid's sandbox?

“Yeah, and how? I control -” 

“You control magnets but I control the metal,” you said with a grin, flipping him off with one hand. Still touching the metal on the mast, you added significantly more (and better quality) steel to what was already there. You used your power and a little creativity to shape it into a giant sized hand giving Kid the middle finger.

“Good likeness,” Killer said, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks Killer! I’m okay with sculptures, but -”

“You like it so much, you can fuckin’ stay there!” Kid yelled, probably annoyed he was already forgotten due to your awesome statue. Without warning you were jerked backward so the entirety of your body was stuck against the mast. You hit the mast hard, the air pushed out of your lungs with the unexpected movement. Kid stormed off to another area of the ship, boots stomping all the way. You rolled your eyes and molded the steel you’d added back around the mast, giving yourself a metal chair to be magnetized to. You couldn’t leave the mast but you could make it nicer for yourself. The crew broke apart to go back to work but a few came up to you as you stayed put. You watched Quincy stand up from the crate she was sitting on and hold onto it for a few moments while bent over before she righted herself. You’d always liked the looks of her from her posters but unfortunately, she left and the Commanders came over.

“You’re Wire, right?” you asked, looking the tall man up and down as he came to introduce himself.

“You know that’s right. You heard about me, Babe?” he said, leaning over you onto his forearm and giving you a wink. Did that actually work on anyone?

“Smallest dick on the seas, that’s what they say,” you deadpanned as the Commander’s face soured. Killer and another Commander laughed heartily as Wire gave you a scowl and stomped away, much like his Captain. You weren’t sure how they’d made it this long with such fragile egos - you’d make it your personal mission to deflate them.

“I’m Heat, nice to meet you,” the blue-haired man said to you, extending his hand.

“Nice to make your acquaintance but your fuckface of a Captain magnetized my hands to the mast so I can’t shake your hand,” you said with an overly saccharine tone. 

“Ah, right. Well, I’ll see you around I guess?” Heat said, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’ll be here until he gets the stick out of his ass, which seems like it may never happen. Feel free to stop by,” you replied. You hoped Kid remembered to give you water to drink otherwise you’d die on his stupid ass fish ship. 

Kid’s POV

Kid was burning off steam in his workshop, welding tiny pieces of metal together to make a metal hawk. He'd felt the iron you created - it was better than almost all of the stuff on board. Creating was a great way to relieve Kid’s stress - after he’d already used the axe-throwing room and decimated the wooden target board. Kid wasn’t one to doubt his decisions but you were already a huge pain in his ass. You hadn’t been on the ship for 12 hours and he wanted to throttle you. Who the fuck did you think you were, flipping him off with his own ship? Talkin’ to him like he was some street rat in front of his crew? He didn’t like your attitude and the more he thought about your interactions, the angrier he became. He was the Captain, you worked for him, that’s all there was to it. You thought you were some tough, hot shit mercenary but Kid knew better. He’d break you and you’d regret ever fucking with him.

Killer popped his head in the workshop, the only person who could do so and keep it attached to their body.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, hiking his thumb backward to indicate the galley. Kid put down his welding equipment, ready to destroy some food. The delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen told him it was spaghetti and meatballs, Killer’s favorite dish. A passing thought came to him as he stood up from his workbench.

“Make a plate for our guest,” he ordered, his painted mouth splitting his face wide. 

A few minutes later, after Killer prepared and gave the Captain what he asked for, Kid sauntered up to the main deck. Of course, you were exactly where he’d left you, though you’d molded yourself some kind of chair to sit on. Clever. Kid felt a raindrop on his skin - looked like a cloudy night.

“Did you finally remember humans need food and water to survive?” you mouthed off to him. Even with your high and mighty attitude, you were exactly where he left you, unable to move. Really you should be thanking him for his mercy in allowing you to open your mouth and eyelids.

“Tch. You'll survive. Humans need water every what? 4 days?”

“Oh my fucking gods. No, humans die before then. Are you - who's the doctor on the ship?” You asked, trying to look around. Kid's eye twitched with your continued sass.

“You want this food or not?” Kid grunted, holding up the plate of spaghetti while ignoring your question. You narrowed your eyes at the food but your stomach gave off a loud grumble.

“I could eat,” you said offhandedly. Kid laughed.

“Then beg me for it,” Kid sneered. Your mouth set in a way that told him your answer before you said it.

“I'd rather eat shit, Eustass,” the venom in your tone was belied by the continued growling of your stomach.

“Ah well, that's too bad,” Kid said with false sincerity. He pulled the plate back and used the fork to twirl a large amount of spaghetti onto it. Your mouth dropped open as Kid shoved it all into his own. He felt a few more raindrops on his skin but paid it no mind.

“If you feel like eating, or yanno, leaving the mast again slurp , you know what to do,” Kid said with an exaggerated shrug, already turned away with the food in his hands. You didn’t say anything but he did smile as he repulsed a wave of iron coming at him back to you. 

Your POV

It was a bitterly cold night at sea, something you were well used to. One of the many perks of being a Logia fruit user was that you didn’t feel differences in temperature as you could always turn into your iron form. Sure, it was less comfortable to stay as a solid piece of iron than laying in a bed but the benefit of being able to sleep literally anywhere outweighed a night spent with a fluffy pillow. You hadn’t lost a wink of sleep since the day you’d eaten your fruit.

Except when you were completely wet.  

And you were right now due to the raging rainstorm outside. You weren’t able to use your powers anymore and you felt like complete shit but lucky for you whatever intrinsic nature your devil fruit had given you left you still magnetized to the mast. So you were freezing to death and couldn’t make yourself immune to the cold, but also couldn’t move from where Fuckstass had left you. Your teeth were chattering together and you had lost sensation in your toes and fingers as the rain pounded you relentlessly.

The clothes you wore weren’t waterproof or meant for the cold - you had long stopped buying clothes and made your own out of finely woven iron mesh. From afar it was indistinguishable from other textiles but had the additional benefit of providing some protection against attacks. It was not, however, meant to get wet and cold and stick to your freezing body like a second skin. You were hungry, tired, wet, losing the will to live, and freezing.

If the Captain was trying to kill you, he was doing a passable job. If the rainstorm kept up and you caught a severe enough cold, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that you could die. It figured, you led a life as an infamous mercenary and what would take you out was being left out in the rain. You closed your eyes, trying to gather up the scraps of your will that remained. You had come to terms with the fact that water took away your power and ability to swim but the loss of will to live always upset you the most. Shivering as the wind whipped your hair into your face, you tried to steel yourself for the rest of the night. Morning would eventually come and hopefully, the rain would abate soon.

Kid POV

Kid was feeling a little better now that he’d tormented you over dinner. He wasn’t planning on starving you to death, he wanted your abilities for his own gain. He had touched the kind of iron you made for yourself and it was higher quality even than the steel he used for his arm. So luckily for you, he’d give you food and water or whatever after you dropped your bratty attitude. He was absorbed in making the feathers for the hawk when he felt Killer’s gaze at his back. 

“What,” Kid said, not breaking eye contact with his project.

“ ‘S raining hard out there. Coupla hours now,” Killer said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, buckets. Cold as shit too. No big storm though. Need me on deck?” Kid was unsure where Killer was going with this but Killer never interrupted without reason.

“Squirt’s still stuck to the mast,” Killer said with a shrug.

“Fuckin’ dammit, ” Kid yelled, slamming down his blow torch onto the table. He picked up what Killer was saying - you wouldn’t be able to turn into iron and avoid the cold with all the water but also couldn’t leave where he’d put you. Killer moved out of the way as Kid stomped back up to the deck, his coat billowing behind him. 

Of course, you were right where he left you. You were huddled up as much as you could, shaking uncontrollably. You were wet and shivering and your skin looked blue - Kid almost felt bad for you. You deserved it for pissing him off too much but it was probably not good, he ultimately decided. Grunting, he demagnetized you and removed his red coat as he moved onto the deck. Walking into the rain made him feel shitty in seconds, you probably felt worse.

Kid stormed up to you, wrapped you in his coat and picked you up off the deck, carrying you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest or even say anything back to him, just hung off his shoulder like a sack of grain as water fell off you in rivulets. Killer was watching from the doorway as Kid brought you inside the ship.

“Needs a warm bath, she got too cold,” Killer supplied. Kid growled and gnashed his teeth but stomped his way over to his quarters. There was hot water in the shared bathroom but someone was already in there and you needed the bath now. Easier and faster to just get it done in his own room. He set you down on the floor, his coat now just as wet as you were. Another fucking annoyance he’d have to deal with later. After turning on the spigots in his bathroom, Kid faced you. You weren’t magnetized or anything but you weren’t moving either.

“Strip,” Kid commanded, already reaching to remove his coat from your body.

“Hh- nn-no?” you answered, your tone making it seem more like a question. You were really out of it, Kid thought. He didn’t bother asking again, just started ripping off your clothes. Normally clothes shredded without him even trying but these had a little more strength to them. Holding up one of your socks, he realized it was made of steel so fine it looked like gossamer.

“The fuck…is this chainmail?” Kid grumbled as he tore the steel. He set your clothes aside, he wanted to smelt them down later. Maybe you were worth the trouble, this was good shit.

“ ‘S not chainmail, just mesh,” you mumbled, kicking off your pants. Kid was secretly pleased you weren’t protesting him taking off your clothes. He wasn’t shy about being naked and preferred when others weren’t either. His crew had seen each other naked so many times it was almost surprising when all of them were clothed. Between the two of you, you were naked in a matter of seconds. Kid picked you up around the middle with his flesh hand, noting how light you were when you weren’t being a brat and turning yourself to metal. Kid did try to not stare at your naked body but it was challenging. Your tits were just the right size and he wanted to sink his teeth into your thighs. Kid dumped you into the bath and you hissed at the sensation, recoiling from the water. Kid rolled his eyes but didn’t remark on your pain.

“Get warm then come out,” Kid grunted, leaving his towel on top of the counter for you. Your teeth were still chattering and your body was wracked with chills as he turned to leave the bathroom. You started to lean over towards the side of the tub and Kid had to move quickly to right you again. Water overload maybe - you’d been in the rain and now the bath. Too much water wouldn’t kill you but it wouldn’t feel great either. Killer would be mad if Kid left you in the bath alone since it was maybe Kid’s fault you were in this position to begin with.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Kid huffed as he used his hands to pour the tepid water over your back and head. You still weren’t talking and your eyes kept sliding shut. After a few moments, your head dropped down to your chest as you nodded out. 

“Alright, s’enough of that,” Kid said, picking you up. Getting you warm from the bath didn’t seem to be helping, you were ragdolling as he wrapped you in his oversized towel and carried you to the bed.

“You really couldn’t be more fuckin’ irritating,” Kid said while setting you on the bed. He dried you off roughly, ignoring the way the moving towel had your tits jiggling under his hand. Drying you off quickly, he grabbed one of his shirts off the floor. It was clean enough, it wasn’t like you had open wounds or anything and would mind the oil. 

“Put this on Squirt,” Kid ordered, throwing it at you. You blinked but caught it with a hand, starting to dress yourself robotically. Kid frowned, what the fuck was wrong with you? He’d given you a bath and dried you off, weren’t you better now?

“Can make my clothes,” you muttered, lifting up your hand. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Do that shit tomorrow. Put my shirt on pipsqueak,” Kid yelled at you. You looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

“You still cold?” Kid asked, hanging up his soaking jacket on the coat rack.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging your knees with a yawn. “When the rain goes away I’ll go back outside,” you mumbled into your legs. A soft knock at the door told Kid Killer had stopped by. Opening the door, Kid saw Killer with a steaming mug of tea and a warm plate of food left over from dinner. 

“For Squirt,” Killer said pointedly. Kid rolled his eyes. He ate Mosh’s food once like a year ago and Killer never let him forget it. 

“Gave ‘er a bath. She’s being weird,” Kid huffed to Killer.

“Hypothermia, dummy. ‘S makin’ me tired and groggy and can’t kick your ass right now,” Kid heard you grouse from the bed. 

“Looks like she’s doing better,” Killer said, nodding along with your assessment. “She’s gonna crash soon. Needs a warm place and lotsa blankets to sleep under. Want me to take her to the ladies?” Killer offered, handing the food and mug over to Kid. When the ship was first built, the whole crew lived together in the bunks below deck but Emma and Quincy quickly demanded their own space. They said the men were gross, smelly, and snored too loud which wasn’t far from the truth. So Kid repurposed a stock room into the women’s quarters and they’d made the place much nicer than the men’s. Looking over, he saw you’d curled up in his bed and were already asleep under his heavy blanket. 

“Lemme know,” Killer offered before he sauntered away like the instigator he was. Kid huffed and set the food down on his nightstand. 

“Drink the tea, brat,” Kid said, shaking you with his metal arm. You groaned and rolled over, wrapping yourself up further in his blankets. You looked kind of…pathetic. Kid was sure that come the morning your sass would be back and you’d be spewing all kinds of nonsense but even he wasn’t completely heartless. Shoving you over to the side of his bed, Kid kicked off his boots and laid down next to you on the bed.

“Don’t get used to it Squirt. Tomorrow you’re back in the dog house,” Kid groused at your sleeping form. You exhaled sharply through your nose, annoyed with him even in your sleep. The feeling was mutual, Kid thought as he detached his metal arm and set it on the floor by his bed. He could sleep with it on but it wasn’t very comfortable and his stump appreciated the relief. 

He yanked some covers away from you but not that much. Kid ran warm all the time and even though it was freezing outside, tonight was no exception. He leaned back against his pillows, shoving his hand behind his head. He was pondering what the fuck he was going to do with you when he felt you roll into his side. 

“Oi, Squirt. What’re you up to?” Kid said quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep. Even though you were annoying as fuck, he didn’t like seeing you so out of it. He wanted you to be back to your bratty, sassy, irritating self so if you needed sleep, he’d let you have it. 

“Warm,” was all you said as you buried your cold nose into his side and frozen feet on his legs.

“Oi! Warn me before you do that again, what’re you made of ice?” 

“Not gonna happen yawn again. Just tonight. You tried to kill me s’os it’s ok,” you said into his side. You were wrapping yourself around him and it didn’t escape Kid’s notice that your unbound tits were pressed against him. He reacted as anyone else would - he got hard. 

“Didn’t try to kill you,” Kid muttered. 

“Did,” you replied, your arms wrapping around him. Kid was about to retort again but you sighed in contentment as you heated your body with his own. Whatever. Having a sexy (but pesky) woman cuddling up to him wasn’t the worst way he’d gone to bed, he thought as he fell asleep, willing his cock to do the same.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[hexgleph]

what funny guys i sure hope nothing terrible happens (my city will burn by the dawn)

Killer - Rahafwabas

Ash - @itsxroxannex

Horror - Sour-Apple-Studios

Dust - Ask-DustTale

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[triglycercule]

can the mtt commit more crimes that just murder please i know theyre the MURDER time trio but ppppleasse,,,, please,,,,,,

they'd be terrible to be next to on the highway. horror's going 160 mph amd has long past gone over the speed limit. dust's out for BLOOD and by blood i mean your tires. he's somehow sniping those round rubber wheels from the high moving vehicle with the precision of a master fruit ninja player. if your car explodes or flips over in the process that's not his fault. and then to make matters worse for everyone on the highway killer's in the backseat scratching up the doors and windows of your car with a knife everytime horror gets close to another car and oops he accidentally just disfigured your face also did i mention theyre all drunk during this

ok so theyve all got the classic face WHY DONT THEY ABUSE IT!!!! horror gets to do a little paper mache to cover up his head hole and then wearing glasses. killer i dont know what the FUCK he can do to get rid of his perpetual tears but let's just pretend that theyre conveniently gone for now. and then all dust has to do is put down his hood! anyways identity theft is cool. imagine how much they could totally fuck up classic's reputation with this. set up fake tinder profiles and then scam people for their credit card info/free dates (while ordering every expensive thing) and stealing wallets. walking into various grillby's's around the multiverse and telling terrible jokes. like ACTUALLY bad jokes. and then of course just being a huge piece of shit at the bar. god theres so many things they could do pretending to be classic. which one of us is hikaru looking ahh except the only difference between the three is the color of the stains on their clothes (either gray (dust) black (killer) or red. well faded red (horror))

ROBBERY!!!! ROBBERIES PLURAL!!!??? train robbery gas station robbery bank robbery GOVERNMENT robbery (what would you rob the government for?? documents??? idk) anyways. mtt robbing a train except its just a really shitty plan and they dont know jackshit about what theyre doing. killer's taken over the conductor's cabin and now he is booking it. how fast are trains allowed to go idk but the maximum. anyways meanwhile horror's on the tracks fucking up the rails with his strength or whatever (listen i know he's weak but picking and choosing what hcs i believe in is my art) and dust is there to teleport him away before the train crashes into him and turns him into a trolley problem victim. and then of course that shit doesnt fucking work and the train just ends up flipping over and catching on fire or something (killer survives because of course he does he's killer). and then in the end dust just has to flip the entire train over and they just stroll into the part that actually HAS the money

and then they go out and get ice cream. sometimes the murderers need to take a break from murdering and just do NORMAL crime yk???

[ropebunnykant]

i say this very gently and with love but can we please stop acting like actors improvising their nc/intimate scenes is a good thing. i understand it fuels shipping and all (it honestly shouldn’t, though, if an actor is improvising it means they’re in character and means nothing for the actor themselves!) and that it’s impressive for actors to be able to do that sort of thing especially with intimate scenes and make it look natural but like. it’s sooo so dangerous when directors just completely let actors do whatever they want for intimate scenes with no guidance. especially in the case of the heart killers with the kantbison scenes and the bdsm they are actively playing out. we don’t yet have confirmation regardless of how much guidance they did have but it really just rubs me the wrong way when people celebrate the idea of those scenes being improvised. they should not be. that is how actors get traumatized. we should not encourage actors being left to “go with the flow” in a scene where the characters are having sex. actually, we should be calling out directors for doing that.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

realizing i have a lot of funny random mtt(poly) headcanons that i never organize/write down. should i start to compile them or what lmao

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

May... may we get info on the super au? 👉👈

"Monsters", in local dialect, can refer to any being that wields magic and/or is made of magic

SOULs are a culmination of magic, not self

tw/cw (trigger warnings/content warnings)

long post

medical system neglect/trauma

eating disorder (kind of)

food difficulties

knives

violence/murder/death (all implied/mentioned)

body horror, sort of

Killer

first to join the gang

hand arthritis because you're not allowed to enjoy your remaining arm (but you get an arthritis glove so)

mask

transhumeral (above elbow)

knee disarticulation

only character who gets a prosthetic

weird soul shape is the power

very stable

very unstable

Cross

second to join the gang

hood

mask

hasn't lost any limbs (yet)

knife summoning

"scarf"

saw Dream ACCIDENTALLY crush a metal beam with one hand and now screams at the top of his lungs anytime Dream gets close to grabbing him

Dust

third to join the gang

motorcycle-esc helmet

and they were roommates

literally

the economy is in shambles

Doctor: well actually we can't give you prosthetics unless we do a procedure to ensure you're actually missing your arms

Dust: ...but i was born without arms

Doctor: the procedure costs over a thousand dollars and i don't have the authority to diagnose you if you don't do the procedure

Dust: what

Doctor: im sorry

when the medical system is useless you have to improvise

bad for teeth probably

adjustable length grabber tool

whoopee cushion probably

villain outfit

scarf

ankle length

got blue to cut off the arms of a morphsuit and sew the holes up

GASTER BLASTER

Random Civilian: WTF

glowy eye

has a lot of magic to burn

Horror

fourth to join the gang

villain outfit fits him when he grows to a specific height

hasn't lost any limbs

motorcycle-esc helmet

least scared of Dream (because he can run away fast enough)

sharp teefers

Dream

was originally meant to be a manipulative government-working hero who's fake personality reflected canon Dream's while the real personality reflected canon Nightmare's

psychologically broken from spending 500 years in a statue

the constant hunger pains don't help

huge lidless eyes and permasmile tend to disconcert people (uncanny valley)

head is always slightly tilted to alleviate neck pain (making it worse in the long run)

little-no fine motor control

anything in his hands will be held with every ounce of strength he has (which is a lot)

Swap

was sweet and relatively innocent when he started working as a hero (and was a bit squeamish about even hitting villains a bit too hard)

naturally black hair, dyes it constantly to match outfit

prone to trembling violently when angry

blurred for violence

Karen: <- interrupting Blue while he's trying to do his job

originally tried to replace screams with laughter to trick his brain into not panicking during high-stress moments and now ends up laughing hysterically when startled/scared

Villain 42: boo

Past Blue: hahaa! you missed!

Villain 42: boo

Current Blue: AHAHAHA

Villain 42: hey man wtf

Current Blue: i don't know why i did that

Villain 42: it's ok

sledgehammer

mental stability is stretched thin from constantly supervising a murderous human-eating being with the psychological state of a severely traumatised child and a paint-eating psychopath with severe memory issues

Ink

travels the aus where he's human and technically doesn't actually belong to the super au

dislikes water (makes him start dissolving)

likes this au because he doesn't have to hide his supernatural abilities

Ink: wh.. where are my vials

keeps mixing up the definitions of hero and vigilante because it's different from au to au

supposed to have a tragic backstory but he's always forgetting it

legally diagnosed with traumatic brain injury and ASPD despite never taking the tests

[firelise]

they need to start putting warnings up for when dancing is about to occur these shows cant keep getting away with this

[hwsforeignrelations]

RANT

[soullessjack]

I truly cannot stress enough that jack hated himself for Kelly’s death and blamed it on himself and his own existence and his inherently evil nature and that in Byzantium when he got to meet her he was looking into her eyes with so much love and sorrow and she cradled his face and he buried it in her shoulder to hug her and this was the woman he thought he had murdered by simply existing and being what he was. And she loved him and she always made sure he knew it and because he knew she loved him he wanted so badly to be worth that love. He wanted his life to be worth her death. I cannot stress it. He wanted his life to be worth her death and to amend for destroying her. I really can’t.

[sysig]

Stop celebrating so loud, you’ll wake everyone up! (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[Panel 1] Hater: *sigh* What a waste of my precious time. [SFX: beep boop!]

[Panel 2] Peepers: ...

[Panel 5] Peepers: YEAAAA

[Panel 6] Hater: QUIET OUT THERE!

[Panel 7] Peepers: Sorry sir! Hater: Hmph!

[nejackdaw]

Thinking about Celann and his ever present grief at the life he could have had, he and his wife and (he always hoped) their daughter. A life where he was a father--he'd hardly ever wanted anything more than that. So full of love he was ready to burst and needed somewhere to put it, wanted a life with his favorite girls.

Thinking about how the ever present desire haunts him no matter how deep he buried it. It keeps coming back, relentlessly, this anguish that he threw it all away. He could have had exactly what he wanted and he was stupid enough to abandon it all, and for what? Because he was upset? But then he always remembers how hollow he felt after the incident, like if you rapped him with a knuckle you'd hear he was just a shell. He forgives himself, then, remembers how wrong everything felt, and he thinks about all the time he spent desperately trying to make everything feel right again.

Remembers when he realized he was the problem, what needed to be fixed. Removed.

He abandoned the life he had and every dream he'd ever held close because he wasn't him anymore. Celann would never have killed anyone, would never have done... that. He was some other Celann, different, trying to make himself fit in the life of a man that no longer existed. And so he left.

And he has no right to ache so badly at the thought of what he gave up, no right to ache at the loss of a family (of two families, but he starts thinking that and breaks every time, so he's gotten good at simply skipping over the thought) when he was a killer--an adept one, a practiced one--that could mangle and maul and kill and do it again and again. What right does he have to still want that happy little dream?

But the dream is a ghost and it haunts him, is there every time he's out on a supply run and sees kids playing around the marketplace, sees women cradling infants and fathers carrying sons on their shoulders. (He reminds himself of the blood on his hands, is scared he might stain them with it if he reaches out to touch them.) It's there when he has a bag and his axe hanging from his hips and finds a girl crying for her mother, lost and separated, jostled by the crowd.

It's there as he calms her, kneeling on wet and gritty stone, hovering between her and the flow of the crowd so they give her space. He lifts her and holds her against his side with one arm and something in him weeps, feels something soft in him as her tiny weight settles and she starts chattering at him about the groceries she and her mother came to buy.

They weave their way through the marketplace as they help each other--she tells him where he can find what he needs, and he silently curses the nords and their height as he tries to peer over shoulders to catch a glimpse of the woman she described--and that cold weight that's usually settled in his chest, his grief and remorse, lightens with every step. She's warm through his sweater and splutters indignantly every time the ever changing wind blows her brown hair into her mouth and he laughs, quiet and warm.

They check places she's already been, in case her mother doubled back looking for her, and take detours so Celann can fumble to place newly acquired groceries in the bag beneath her, unwilling to hold her over the side with his axe and equally unwilling to put her down, awkwardly shifting her weight as she laughs at him. He's silly for buying such expensive things, she tells him, and he light heartedly tells her Skyrim is silly for not having the things he used to use in High Rock. The revelation he hasn't always lived in Skyrim excites her to no end, and the rest of the trip is a Q&A of the sort only a small child can provide.

He feels warm inside, in his chest, where usually he feels vaguely cold at best, and for a moment he's reluctant to relinquish her when they finally find her mother, guided by the sounds of panicked calls of her name. There's a fond sadness as he sets her down on the stones again, and the woman looks at him oddly for a moment before the look turns knowing, though he's sure the conclusion she reached is slightly off.

She quietly asks if her daughter reminds him of her. He stands there silently for a moment, looking down at the little girl as she rifles through the things her mother's found.

He tells her yes.

[geometricalien]

It's 3 am. I can't sleep. And I'm still a little drunk so I'm going to word vomit into the void about Last Night in Soho.

I absolutely adore this movie. The acting, the directing, the cinematography, the themes- it's all fantastic! ... except for the character John. And this has nothing to do with the actor portraying him but John's place in the narrative as friend/romantic interest to Ellie while being a foil to Sandie's own "Johns".

Ellie's John is everything Sandie's aren't: kind (apologizing for taking her coke and offering to give it back, saving a seat for her in class, checking up on her through the semester), respectful (of her boundaries and her passion and personhood), supportive (showing up for her exhibition), and helpful (offering to look for Sandie in missing person cases and moving her out of her apartment at the end of the movie). Even Sandie - the character who hated men most - pardons him and absolves him of any perceived wrong doing, "Save the boy downstairs"; although just minutes ago she stabbed him in the gut and left him for dead.

Unfortunately, it reads alot like "Not all men!! ☝️"

For a movie to be so focused on the relationship between two women and one of them understanding the other as if she was herself, the crux of the film, the resolution of it is Sandie saying "You can't save me, it's too late for me. Save yourself. Save the boy downstairs." And it's only then that Ellie goes to safety, she saved herself to save a man.

It's frustrating.

It's also frustrating that any other girl around Ellie's age is vapid and facetious "So brave ❤️" or an insecure bully dragging people down. Of course, this serves to make Ellie's attachment to Sandie stronger but writing John as a woman without romantic connotations would not stop her from being starstruck by Sandie. It would only highlight the sisterhood theme.

Sandie saying, "Save the girl downstairs" would make way way more sense for her character, Ellie's character, and the themes.

You can still have Ellie bring home someone near Halloween and still have his name be John and still have him respect her boundaries when the vision bleeds into reality.

Gotta keep in mind that this would edge itself closer into the black best friend being a prop/support for the main white character without being afforded their own personhood cliché, but that could be easily circumvented with decent writing.

Overall, it would tighten the film's message of sisterhood, women supporting women, and advocating for each other. This film is at its best when Ellie is showing kindness to Sandie by pulling the blanket over her feet. Her being protective over Sandie by shouting, "She said no!" Trying to hug her and show her she isn't alone. Her hugging Alexandra and seeing Sandie. Her refusing the Johns' their revenge. By taking Sandie's side time and time again. And Alexandra asking Ellie after the dance when her John left, "Did he hurt you?" As if she would hobble down the street that very second with a knife to track him down.

Another girl must not suffer in that room. Not under that roof. Not in the whole damn world. Not if Sandie or Ellie or I have anything to say about it.

[triglycercule]

yapper triglycercule is sooooo back guys. now if only it was about my own ideas instead of my comments on other people's stuff 🙂🙂🙂🙂💀🙂🙂🙂

[www-ghost-com]

doing my yearly marble hornets rewatch is dangerous. i feel myself slipping back into uncharted territory (the creepypasta fandom)

[doolallymagpie]

Trying to prime 1:12 Thalia

Hopefully the stickiness is just that the paint is still a bit wet