#knowing what it’s like to be a poor kid in a poor exploited family

[question-why-not]

Jason’s full song, had Tim not changed its course:

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Eight drug lord heads in a basket~

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Took over the local drug trade

Don’t sell to kids, don’t sell to poor, stick to my rules or die~

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Don’t you dare abuse sex workers~

All the pimps and johns, all the gangs and mobs, better not cross the lines, I laid out

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

No firefights near civs~

Making shelter for kids, the community, I’ve got their back so they’ve got mine

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

All the working girls, my allies

Got a network, vast, got a network, wide, Crime Alley is all mine~

I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Can’t eradicate crime, so control it~

Jason, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it- Dick, whispering: Should we call the exorcist? Tim, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick. Damian, appalled: Call the exorcist.

[mayasaurusss]

Hello, I really liked the way you write about Jinx, can you please write about how femme! the reader and Isha fall into a trap and as a result, while protecting Isha, the reader is injured and Jinx goes into her killer mode (you don’t have to write if you don’t want to) you can just write aftercare if you want

A helping hand

A/N: and here it's finally done! I could have made this oneshot quicker and shorter but then I got chaught up in writing it... and I woke up eight days later with this in my drafts😂. I don't ususally like how I handle stories, but I think that this one turned out pretty good. As mentioned in another post, it's very heavily plot driven and it's a wopping eleven pages worth of writing. My grammar, as always, might not be the top gamma. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Also this was mixed with something someone suggested on ao3!

Contains: female reader, violence, murder, mentions of saliva and vomiting, hurt and comfort, very heavily plot driven, happy ending with a happy family. Lenght: 6k/ 11 pages.

The limited air inside the vent makes you choke on your breath, chemicals and smoke filling your lungs and hollowing your brain. A loud sound echoes inside the metal hull, alerting every one of your senses. "Isha! Be careful!" you whisper-yell at the kid, who's crouching in front of you, placing her hat back on.

She just huffs in response, rolling her eyes before continuing her tour inside Zaun's vents. Isha has not been too fond of you since you entered her life; one reason could be that she thought she had to compete with you for Jinx's attention. The other reason, maybe, is that you were from topside. Piltover, The City of Progress. The city who exploited and hurt the poor citizens of the Undercity. Avid hands commanding from atop marble skyscrapers, grinning smiles sucking away the air of the lanes.

It's no wonder you're not Isha's favorite; Sevika too seemed to have a disdain for you, either because of your privileged position or for the way Jinx was distracted and dreamy when you were near.

To ingratiate yourself into Isha's favours and to make it at least somewhat pleasant for both of you to be near each other, you agreed to follow her in a walk through the lanes.

Jinx had invited you into her own private lair, after much convincing on her part. One day, she just swept you up and brought you down with her, making you walk through fissures, alleys and neon lit streets.

"You should have a tour of The Lanes, y'know, to learn how life's like down here" a flicker of a spark reflecting in her goggles as she made some of her obscure machine-thingies. "So give me one" you said, prompting Jinx to hum in thought. "I am busy today, and Sev' is too. Besides, I don't think you'll enjoy each other's company" she glanced at Isha, who was drawing Stinkmaw on her notebook. "You'll just have to settle for Isha" the kid propped her head up at the mention of her name, already looking with stars in her eyes at Jinx, not aware of your previous conversation. "What do you say Isha? Want to have fun with your new friend? Give her a tour of the Undercity?", Isha sized you from head to toe with a snarl on her lips, eyes moving between you and Jinx while her face became more and more agitated. "Come on, she's not that boring" Jinx moved back to her work, sparks flying and lit up her face, "I should know". Your face grew hot with her words, remembering what happened between you two just weeks prior. Isha gave a disgusted 'ew', before Jinx turned her head to watch the kid, a shadow of anger in her eyes. "No excuses! Come on, just go around a bit, become friends!".

"Jinx I, I don't think this is a wise idea. I mean, Isha is just a kid: what if something happens? I-" Jinx interrupted you, her voice almost lost between the screeching sounds of metal scraps flickering sparks between each other. "You'll both be fine. Isha is a smart kid, she'll get out of any situation. As for you..." she turned to you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "...will you be able to keep up with her?".

'No, not at all' you answer to her mental image, struggling to keep your pace behind Isha. The kid is fast inside these tunnels, and your body is not accustomed to their narrow spaces and to the flow of smoke and waste. The metal feels light and shaky under your weight, giving you the impression that at the slightest of pressure, you will sink beneath and break your ribs into the concrete of just another of Zaun's alleys. You steady on, carefully applying your weight where each border of the metal tubes meet, following the shadow of Isha.

After what feels like ages, you finally spot the end of a tunnel, light shining on the dirty buildings giving it a green hue. Isha crawls towards it, leaving you behind in the dusty tunnels, prompting you to follow her quickly. The kid has already jumped in the street below, adjusting her hat on, turning her back to you while she begins to walk away. You take in a deep breath, calculating the height of your jump, before falling messily on the concrete.

"Ack, shit" Isha gives you a dirty look, "What?". She just rolls her eyes, before continuing on, not waiting for you. The Undercity is just what you expected: crowds of people fill it's street, smoking and squaring you up; sellers shout to lure in buyers, presenting their merch of metal husks, hundreds of different flavours of tobacco and pieces of meat that you'd rather not know from what they came from. At the far corners, gang groups threaten and push against each other, their blades glinting with a malicious look. The streets are lit by bright neon signs, filled with all possible smells and gasses, overcrowded to the point that you're short of breath. Distantly, you can hear the sound of machinery evermoving, of water and air and of shipments departing from shore. The city itself beats and pumps, like a living heart.

Everything is suffocating; too loud, too much. And what's worse is, everyone knows that you don't belong. Their eyes are envious, angry, a dangerous hate barely hidden beneath their scleras. Hell, Isha, the kid who is known to have a kind heart, can barely hide it. For a moment, too caught up in your mind and it's worries, you miss Isha turning around, entering a dark hallway. You follow her blue locks until you're far from people, now only surrounded by high walls and some couples making out in a corner. On one wall there are signs of damage: claws and dents and what looks to be a... strange green goop staining the bricks, along with scraps of metal of an exoskeleton.

You find Isha sitting at the corner where the street opens, back against the wall. You are not too sure what she is doing: after all, she has proved to be rather uninterested in you. What you don't realize, not at first anyway, is that she had run through the crowd into the alley to lure you away from that noisy hell so you'd have time to get used to it. Sliding down next to her, your clothes drag down the dirt and dust of years behind them. Silence feels heavy above your head, the distant sounds of the crowd the only thing keeping you at least a bit sane.

Isha has found a pastime in rolling the hem of her hat on the ground, trying to make a perfect spin with it. The sounds of metal against concrete screech inside the hallway, attracting more than just one pair of eyes. You can feel Isha's reluctance to begin so close to you, probably thinking to herself that it was a mistake waiting for you. When the silence feels too heavy, then you finally speak. "Isha...listen" the hat spinning stops abruptly, it's hem catched between Isha's thumb and index finger. "I know you don't like me" she's surprised that you decided to face the problem right away; it's not something your people are known for. "You've made it all too clear these past days. I know you are wary of me; I know the Undercity is wary of us". The kid's eyes are now on you, studying, squaring you up, detecting any lies that you may hide under your sweet words.

"But... I am not my city. I know what you have been through and I am..." you falter for a moment, thinking that you're starting to sound a little too guilty and invested in this, and that she may recognize this as insincere. "What I meant to say is... I would like to be your friend, if you want to".

Isha doesn't answer you right away, but you see a small smile spread on her lips. You breathe a sigh of relief at successfully bringing down her walls.

She jumps back up, extending her hand to yours, palm open and a curious smile on her face. You take it, careful to not push your weight down on her before you too stand up.

"Come on, let's go home. This is good enough of a tour for me today", you take Isha's hand, ready to walk back to Jinx's, before something clutters inside the hallways, spreading its dull, hollow metal sound everywhere. The sound gets closer and closer, the item of its origin stopping its course at your feet. It's a cylinder shaped, stubby looking object; drawn on its surface are what you recognize to be Jinx's drawings, imitating a grinning gaping mouth of some evil creature. The red light you are so familiar with, the one which with Jinx blows her enemies to bits, is off.

"Well, look what we have here. The runt of that crazed bitch and Piltover's finest trash". From under the fuming tubes, a tall, scruffy looking man shows up. His hair is in a buzz cut style, thin muscles tightly attached to his bones, making him look starved and unkept. Black tattooed run over his forehead and cheeks, giving his sulken eyes even more of a crazed look. His goons all show up after him, exiting from their hidden spots. "What do you want?" you try to sound though, but the wavering of your voice only gives away your fears. Isha hides behind you, clutching tightly at the fabric of your pants.

"Oh we don't want anything from you. But you see..." he reaches to fish something out of his pants. You see it before he shows it: the hem of a knife. He slides the blade out of its sheath, glimmering dangerously in the dark. "...that darling bitch of yours took something from us. Well, to be honest, someone. Someone very dear to our group" you look in between you and Isha, then at the distance between you and the goons, trying to think of an escape.

"What do you mean? How do you know Jin-" he laughs creepily, a little too high for your tastes, echoing between the walls. "How do I know Jinx? Everyone knows Jinx!" he gesticulates with the knife still in his hand, dangerously close to hitting himself in the eye with it. He inspects the blade with something dark inside his thoughts, dulling the colour out of his eyes. With a creepy and disturbing smile on his lips, he runs his finger along the line, blood trickling down its shape. He seems to take a sick kind of pleasure from seeing red staining the metal. "I gotta give it to her though, she really aimed high: fucking someone from Piltover is something none of us would dirty ourselves trying to".

A vein under your skin pumps blood into your brain faster, giving you the prospect of an annoying headache, "Watch that tone-". "Never thought that that small, smart runt would become what she is today. Powder really outdid herself", you don't miss the cruel smirk which paints his lips, enjoying infecting your relationship with Jinx. "Powder?" the name doesn't ring a bell, and you're left with the man's ominous eyes peering into your heart, telling you that 'you don't know anything'.

"Oh look, trust runs so deep between you two that you don't even know her real name! Did you really think a parent could ever name their child 'Jinx'?" the rest of his group laughs and mocks you like their leader is, like a hoard of sheep follows their shepard. "I don't need to know her name. If there is a reason why Po- Jinx is keeping her real name a secret from me, I am not gonna pry it open from her" you can feel your heart pump blood faster into your veins, that small headache becoming stronger and stronger as anger takes hold of your actions. "Mhm? Just like she kept her family's deaths a secret?" those words feel heavy when he speaks them, clearly holding some truth behind them. You try to remain calm but anger and fear are affecting your judgment. "W-What? What the fuck are you talking about?" their ugly laughs fill your ears, only aiding in alimenting the fire at your heart. "After our little...fight, he changed. He started to hang out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things..." slowly, ever so slowly, all of them start to circle around you. One, two, four, six of them, sporting grinning smiles, stalking you like hyenas.

"But he would have been the same has always, even if he had become dumber than he was. He would have been alive too, at this moment, if Vander hadn't intervened". None of what this man is saying makes sense to you. He's talking to you, but his words are meant for others: for his friends, for Isha, for Jinx. You, once again, are reminded that you're not welcome here. In their eyes, hate and hunger swirl, creating a whirlwind that sucks away at your courage, "Just...what do you want from me?!".

"Jinx and that sister of hers took our friend from us. Our boss. Now-" with mastered precision, he makes the blade jump from his hands, now it's tip pointing towards the ground. Something that you can only describe as burning hatred and killing intent paints his features, before he screams a rallying cry, "It's our turn taking everything from her!".

That is enough for the whole lot of them to pounce. One moment, and they are all on you; punching, kicking, twisting your hair in their grasp, snarling and mocking. In the confusion you lose Isha, not being able to distinguish her blue locks in between all that green and grey. For a split second, after they consume their gloves on you, no one is holding you down. You take the occasion to slip away from their grasps, falling backwards into the opening street. You take a second to choose what to do, and as you run towards the crowd once again, following where you assume Isha went, a feeling of anger rises in your stomach. The sound of the busy street echoes, a distant reminder that you have a life to return to, but something tugs at your heart to look at them in the eyes. Blood pumps fast in your veins, alerting every muscle, every bone, every fiber that danger is near, you need to go, but your heart, brain, the pride you take in begin still alive overtakes your judgment. You stop to look at them, the prospect of a challenge in your eyes, of saying 'Look at me!' and incite them to follow 'I am still alive!'.

They look like ravenous beasts, hunched backs and gleaming eyes, angry snarls on their faces, hate coursing through their veins. The leader of the group, the scruffy looking one, fishes something from his back and places it on the bottom of his face: it's a mask, made with grey metal and sprayed with fake golden accents to give it a more classy look. On the side there's a circular opening with a single point in the centre. He takes a syringe and inserts it in the hole, pushing the top down and filling the hollow cavities of the mask with purple gasses. He takes in a deep breath, eyes rolling backwards, before his body goes through a strange change, twitching and moving like he had been shocked. When he looks back at you his eyes are a deep, neon pink, the same shade of colour that paints Jinx's eyes. He moves towards you, pushing and snarling at his friends like a dog with rabies, breaking their bones on the walls, before, with all the air in his lungs, screams, "I'm going to enjoy skinning that piltie's clean skin away from your body!".

You don't make it far before, with an uncanny precision, he throws his blade towards you like a spear, metal sinking inside of your left side, dangerously close to your kidney. A gasp leaves your body before you fall on the floor, blood oozing from the wound. Hundred of needles pierce at your flesh, blood paints the concrete and your mind fuses with the flesh of your brain. Then it all stops; you're back in the alley, cold spreading from the wound throughout your body, followed by a unbearable heat. The blade is snatched from your side, an ear shattering scream erupting from your throat. He is on top of you, already inching the knife to the base of your neck, planning to stab you there, wanting to see the life leaving your body in the most gruesome way possible. "I can't wait to see the look on your girlfriend when I am going to bring her the eyes of her most loved!".

"Bye bye, piltie" you brace yourself for your end; you can almost already feel the knife lodged in your throat, but nothing happens. You hear the sound of a metal hulk resonating in the hallway, before he is knocked down by something thrown with force against his face. You recognize it to be the exoskeleton of the arm you saw before, lying around. The rod which was the building foundation for its making has been thrown on the man's ugly bat-like nose, making him bleed red.

Isha stands behind you, still in launching position, before she runs over to you and tries to help you up. When you do, white behind your eyelids blinds you, pain making your head spin. He gets up again, an animalistic wild look in his eyes. He moves again, muscles hardened with purple veins running along them, drool falling down the space between the mask and his skin. Before he can assault you again, Isha throws something at him: the bomb he himself kicked before, the one Jinx had made, moves through the air, soon to be the second object to hit his ugly face today. He recognizes the object and pales when he sees a red light zipping faster and faster, its grinning mouth inching closer to him.

A colorful light shines on the walls, paint of blue and pink shades falling down like rain; sparks of fire following the natural course of an explosion, fading out of existence a moment later. You run with Isha, hand in hand, away from this horrid place. This time, you don't look back.

A trickle of sweat falls down Jinx's temple while her eyes are focused on connecting two tubes of plastic together. Electricity flows through them, sending sparks flying dangerously close to her skin, before they are connected by the metal snaps on each of their ends. Jinx smiles as her creation takes its first movements, loudly clapping two copper coloured, round, small discs together, before stopping once again. Her fingers twist the key positioned on its back and the mechanic monkey comes to life once again. When her work is finally done, she puts it next to the other one she made hours prior.

The one meant for Isha is coloured with golden accents and decorated with graffitis all over. When turned on, it quickly smashes the plates against each other and plays an off-tune punk song if the button on its right leg is pushed; its eyes are golden, mimicking Isha's own. The one meant for you is far softer than the first: soft shades of pastel mix together with Jinx's characteristic pink, swirling your colours together. Instead of plates, it has a small, roughly knitted red heart in its hands. The left eye shines bright pink, while the other mirror's yours. There are no graffiti on it, except for a small heart on its chest, one near 'your' eye and a 'Jinx' on its left side.

She can't wait to see the look on your eyes when you will see it. She could never quite well express affection like other people do, so giving you gifts was what she did best. Just as she dreams of your face, she hears quick, loud steps coming closer and closer to her. "If you are Caitlyin, I appreciate your obsession with me, but I am in the middle of-" she recognizes Isha's laboured breaths and your pained groans before she can finish the phrase. And when she turns around, her face pales and her blood freezes. Isha has a panicked look to her face, one that she had never seen before; and you? Sweat falls with heavy tears down your face, the shade of your skin so much paler than it usually is, making you look almost dead. Your hand is tightly clutched on your side, where your hand is stained with...blood?

In a fraction of a second, Jinx is on you, hands checking at every curve of your body, focusing on places you might be hurt, while she asks question upon question, filling the air with a sense of urgency. You can only describe the look in her eyes as pure dread. If you didn't groan with pain every few seconds, you'd think Jinx was the one to have gotten hurt. The next few minutes are a whirlpool of movements and colours, making you spill your lunch on the floor. Soft fabric meets your back, suddenly naked with only your bra to cover your chest. Blood oozes faster out of you and you can feel your conscience leaving. Nothing else besides the red on your skin and the blurred shades of blue and brown exists for you.

"...ont worry, I al... got m... sis...er out of ...ble". When after wetting your wound with water, Jinx presses gauze on your body, you are suddenly brought back to life, violently. It feels like someone is crushing with all their might on you, despite Jinx applying the right pressure to the wound. If someone were to walk in right now hearing your screams, they'd think you were begin murdered. After what finally feels like an eternity, you are lying again on her bed, almost lifelessly. You don't have time to answer Jinx's questions, before you fall into a deep slumber.

Half an hour passes by, and the world seems sealed in a bubble of silence. Nothing moves. nothing makes noise, nothing happens. The only thing that does make noise are the voices in Jinx's head, screaming loudly at her for having let you go alone. 'You should have been there', 'See what happens when you let people into your life?', 'She is hurt. She might die. It's your fault'.

Their loud screams are enough to make one go crazy, but despite how confused she is, Jinx finds a will in herself to speak, to silence them. With her hand, she nudges Isha, getting her attention, and mouths "What happened?".

Isha doesn't answer. Her eyes burn holes into the metal of the helix, bottom lip tightly sealed under her teeth, before something in her breaks. She rushes in Jinx's arms, hiding herself into her chest, crying until the tears are gone and her throat is raw. They stay together, tangled into one another, for a while, until their bodies are cold. "Isha, what happened?" Jinx repeats.

Isha gets up, running over Jinx's desk and returns with two different coloured pencils. On the ground she draws a scene: you and her, hand in hand, with frowning faces; behind you six grinning figures, one taller than the rest. Green splattered on the ground and high walls. Jinx recognizes this place immediatley; she's been there just a couple of weeks prior.

Walking to her desk, she grabs her trusted gun and more than a dozen of bullets. A deep, hateful scowl paints her features, eyes shining brighter than usual.

Tonight, the undercity shines and roars with fervor. Its lights shine bright and the shouts of its inhabitants brings it to life, beating strong, like the heart of a dragon. The city seems to sway in tandem with Jinx's white cape, almost bending to her will but also shielding her, hiding her in its crowds. This is home. This is all Jinx has ever known and ever will. She knows it's streets like the palm of her hand: where to leave her mark, the highest places she can reach from which she can put a bullet in between her enemies eyes, which vents and tunnels will take her back home.

She knows exactly where you had been hurt, and if her predictions are correct, they're waiting for her there. And she's gonna give them what they want. The allway is far too serene to be one of the city's main ways out to the perimeter where steel factories and shipments are. It's uncharacteristically quiet, and by Zaun's rules, that means danger.

Jinx steps on the green gooey substance, observing the dripping of your blood leading to the city's main street, and anger boils inside her at that view. The square is empty, except for a series of tubes and a pitfall to its left. Just as she thought, she begins to hear steps coming into her direction. They had been expecting her.

"If you weren't trying, and failing, to ambush me, I'd say you have a crush" the man behind her simply scoffs, his breath coming out ragged and metallic from under his mask.

Jinx turns around to see a tall man, breathing through what she recognizes to be a mask that henchmens of shady organizations wore to enhance their physical abilities. After a moment, she recognizes blood staining the man's pale skin, half of his left hand blown off, rudimental replaced with a metal prosthesis at the last minute. She can ignore that just fine, but the exposed muscle of his left cheek makes her want to puke. "Wow, and you're even more grotesque than I thought" a cruel anger swirls inside her eyes, her lips curling up in a snarl. "What? Were you so anxious to try to kill me that you couldn't even let your wounds heal?" he laughs at her words, men closing in on her much like they did hours prior to you.

"We were waiting for you, Powder" the mention of that name pangs at her heart. Subtly, she touches the top of her gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. "I figured. How do you know my name?" "A man can know much...if he is in the right place, at the right time" he falls silent when Jinx laughs at his words, anger making a vein in his head pop. "Damn. I thought you were pathetic already, but this whole 'supervillain' talk only makes you seem more of an ass than you already are" much like Jinx, he grabs the death of his knife. At the sign, his men form a half circle around the blue haired criminal, directly closing the only way out. "You won't talk all that shit after I sink my blade in your throat" she can't help but feel compassion for these poor bastards. Faintly, she can already feel their blood falling on her skin while putting bullets between their eyes. "I would like to see you try" she changes her body stance, right side facing them while she takes out her gun with her left hand, making a show of placing the bullets in. Unlike what she thought, they do not follow her; instead, the leader seems relaxed as ever. His dark eyes reflect hers and for a second Jinx can see a dangerous, maniacal glint in them and a cruel grin on his lips.

"Oh I did try, and succeeded, with your little piltie bitch-girlfriend" her breathing stops, heart missing a beat, and time seems to stop for a moment, before it all starts to spin again, faster and faster as she gets angrier and angrier. "You should have heard her screams. The sweetest I've ever heard" she imagines you, clutching at your side, tears in your eyes and spit falling off your mouth; begging for him to leave you alone, to let you go. His features are lost under a black veil and painted over with a red open mouthed smile and tight eyes, not unlike the monsters that she has to fight with every night, as he raises the crimson blade and-.

"Don't you fucking dare" her throath feels raw when she speaks, almost as if she's spewing pure black hatred with each word. "Or what? What are you going to do?" 'He thinks he's the shit, huh?', she thinks, loading the storage to the brim and finally raising the barrel of her gun to aim on his forehead. "I am going to enjoy blowing your brains out"

'No one hurts the people I love'.

The next few seconds are a blur of colours and movement. Her body moves before her mind can understand what is going on. She ducks under something coming at her, kicking at the figure and sending them flying a few feet away from her. Someone pulls at her braids and she yelps, momentarily confused; in a fraction of a second, she blows their hand off, crouching and punching in the face a second figure. The blood on the ground, spilling from the screaming man gives everything a shape again and she's back to the alley. Three men are down, two unconscious and one debilitated. The remaining ones look at her up and down, before the leader nudges them, kicking their shins.

One of them takes a metal rod from his side and swings wildly at Jinx, paying no attention to where he hits. She dodges him with no effort and when he stops momentarily to rest his arm, she knocks his weapon from his hands and hits him in the neck with it, white replacing the colour of his eyes. The other, after seeing the bodies of who used to be his companions, runs away, leaving his leader behind; but before he can make it far, a bullet runs fast through his chest and he falls to the floor, lifeless.

He is the last one standing. "Heh, you call yourself a leader, but you couldn't even save your men". His teeth grind harshly against each other, sending jolts of pain through his mouth, "Shut the fuck up".

But Jinx doesn't. No, she's going to enjoy torturing the life out of this fucker like he did to you. "You didn't even lift a finger. I didn't know Zaun could have such a coward walking through its streets".

He finally snaps, spit flowing out of his mouth as he screams, staining the mask inside "I said shut up!". He breathes in the chemical Jinx is so familiar with, huffing purple clouds out of the mask with a metallic sound. Once again, he feels the rush of the substance in his lungs, blood circling small purple bubbles throughout the body, strengthening his muscles and blanking his mind. But this time, his body starts to twitch and shake, slipping out of his control.

The heart beats faster, the lungs lose their air and move erratically, blood flows freely through his body and bones morph, stretching and breaking and strengthening. His muscles cannot be sustained by the bones anymore, and he falls to the floor. The space inside his ribcage feels tighter, his lungs can only provide so much until finally, his body stops changing and he can stand up, much taller than Jinx now.

The blue haired criminal looks incredibly unimpressed with her opponent's new shape, her eyes studying his moments and planning the next few seconds. That grotesque creature lunges, pushing his whole weight on the top of his body, falling messily when Jinx dodges him. She ducks under a clawed swing, rolling through the space between his legs; then, while he is confused and looking for her, aims at his neck.

The bullet lodges itself into the skin, remaining snugly fit between flesh. The scream that leaves him could have woken up the dead. His nails dig into his neck, trying desperately to yank the bullet out, but to no avail. He turns and turns, like a cat chasing its tail, before dizziness gets to him and he falls to the floor, spilling saliva all over the concrete. When he looks around once again, he is face to face with Jinx's gun, staring at the black hole of the barrel. "You made a mistake crossing me, today. Let this be a lesson" she tilts the gun until it's flat against his forehead. He is not capable of forming words anymore, they die at the base of his throath, leaving only emptiness behind. For a moment, she can see in his eyes something that resembled her, many years ago: a scared animal, one that does not understand what their fate will be. But when her mind reminds her of how viciously he attacked you, and how you are lying in her bed, with no assurance that you'll wake up, anger bubbles once again behind her eyes, clouding her thoughts.

"I'm sorry" is all that he hears, before his body falls to the floor, life leaving his eyes.

Her heart feels cold, as well as her body and mind. Jinx, in her own kind of weird way, is already trying to make peace with the fact that, once she comes back home, you might be gone. All too often in her life she had to come to terms with the death of her loved ones, and all too often, she was directly involved with their demise. She can already picture it: you on the bed, blood staining your clothes and the mattress, Isha on her knees, crying her heart out. She, coming home, seeing your dead body lying on what used to be your little shared creek, shielded by the world, falling to her knees and her heart finally giving out to pain, soon to follow you.

From the crack inside the wall, she can spot the helix of her home, the one she'll soon walk over to reach you. She tries to move, but to no avail: her body doesn't let her. Her muscles are reduced to mush, her legs feel like lead and her heart heaves on her rib cage so much that she had to bend down, clutching at her chest to try and ignore that pain. She could stay here forever, stalling time to this single minute, winding it back over and over and over again, all for the purpose of pretending she's still with you, back in your apartment in Piltover, laying naked on the bed with serene smiles on your faces.

But she can't. Even if she could stop time, right here and now, what could she do? Nothing would change. You'd still be dead, she'd still be heartbroken, the bed would still be cold on your side.

She slips inside the crevice, body molding to its shape, before she is face to face with the entrance to her home. She's so lost in her dread and fear that, for a moment, she doesn't hear the sound of laughter from the inside. When her mind recognized the sound, the pitch of the voice she so longed to hear, tears prickled at her eyes and hope filled her heart. She rushes towards the sound, almost tripping down the helix and falling to her death.

There you are. Laying on the bed, laughing weakly as Isha gesticulates and shouts loudly, imitating some sort of monster. Every little light inside her home has been placed near you, probably by Isha, and lifts your figure with a myriad of colorful shades. You look like a living painting to her.

You can't even process seeing her when she's already on you, touching you everywhere, checking your pulse, grabbing onto your legs to assure herself, to make sure that you...

"Are you... really alive?". You could crumble right here and now under those tearful eyes of hers, so soft and beautiful, looking almost powder blue. You stretch your arms to reach down to her, hugging her close to you; "I am, I am". Jinx takes a moment to process your hug and your words; and when she does, when she's certain that you are alive, that you are okay, her walls crumble away.

She pulls you down towards her, wanting to reciprocate the hug, but impatience gets the better of her and instead pulls herself on the bed, halfway reaching you. Her head rests on your belly, tears staining your clothes when she feels your hand on her back. "I thought-! I thought you-" her words die in her throath when she feels your fingers cupping at her cheek, pulling her to rest on her knees and look into your eyes. "I know, I know. I am okay".

Tears fall freely down her cheeks once again, her bottom lip wavering before she takes refuge in your body, hiding her tears on your lap. "I am so glad! I am so glad...".

Once her tears dry, she pushes herself to look at you, eyes puffy and red. "You are okay" she says, and you're about to assure her once again, but something tells you that she's really talking to herself. She climbs on the bed with you, quickly resting her head on your chest. You can't help but smile at her, ready to cuddle together when you realize you've let someone out of the picture. Isha looks at you both with those big eyes of her, pouting. She knows exactly how to push your buttons.

"Come on kid, get in" come Jinx's words, quickly followed by Isha tangling herself in between your bodies and closing her eyes, sleep already overtaking her. "Man, she sure takes a lot of space" you chuckle, placing your hand on Isha's head and stroking her locks between your fingers, hearing a small contented sigh from her. "Yeah, but she deserves it". A heavy silence fills the space, one that you usually pair up with tranquillity, but who you quickly realize is loud for your lover. "Jinx... I am okay" stopping them from screaming in her ears is hard, but when you are with her, they vanish off of existence. Your voice brings her back to reality, as well as reminding her that you have gotten hurt. Letting herself relax after the storm is something she's not used to. "I know" but she can try.

Starting this conversation will be a pain, you think to yourself, but you need to tell her.

"...He told me your real name, Jinx. And, what you did". Quick snapping sounds, mixed with hushed voices and distant screams fill her head in a second, getting louder by the second. She doesn't find in herself the strength to answer, too tired from the day's events; but nevertheless, listens. She leans on the bed, eyes dark and attentive. The scent of your skin fills her nose and she braces herself for your next words. "But...I don't care".

What?

"I don't know what you've been through, but... I don't need to know. You will tell me if you want to". It all stops. Every sound, every shout or whisper, every heartbeat or pulse of electricity. It seems, for a moment, that all becomes white and quiet, before the world starts to spin again. You feel her strong fingers push you more towards her, one cold hand under your clothes, right where your wound is. "Thank you toots, that means a lot".

Less than twenty seconds of silence later, she's already pestering you with her worries again, "Does it hurt? Do I need to give you som-" you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours. Normally, you would be a little annoyed by her continuous train of words, but she needs to be reassured. She needs to hear it from you, how many times it takes. "I am okay. I just need you here with me".

That seems enough to let her finally bear down her worries and she quickly rests on the bed, eyelids heavy and a yawn in her throath. "...I made you a monkey...gift" she slurrs over her words, already slipping in and out of conciousness. "Oh really?". "Yeah...". You too are about to follow her shortly, and before you let sleep overtake you, you reach behind and place a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Jinx" she smiles, catching your lips in a quick peck and pushing her nose in the crevice of your shoulders; "Goodnight toots".

Bonus ----------------

When Sevika came home that night, after her usual gambling and drinking out in Zaun's bar, she certainly did not expect to find the messily tangled body of limbs that were you, Jinx and Isha.

As quietly as she possibly can, she takes the chair Jinx sits on while doing her evil scientist machineries and sits next to your bed. Placing a cigar in between your lips and lights it, blowing the smoke away in the opposite direction. She looks back at the bed, multiple coloured lights shading your peacefully sleeping figures. She stays silent for a moment, before she crouches on her knees and shakes the tip of the cigar, firing crumbling pieces of tobacco down on the floor. "They do look pretty cute".

[yandere-daydreams]

Okok gonna face my fears and send this off anon . . . ♡ I woke up at 6am and have been plagued by the concept of yan!satosugu with idol darling like all morning

Walk with me here okokokokok. So like satoru obviously has like sooo much money. What if just to get a break from focusing on sorcery all the time he became a sponsor or even producer for a very cute girlypop idol group,,, (and yes I do think he would be kinda weird/creepy to idol darling, especially with how he views himself as basically untouchable (I mean he has enough money to pay the right people off) sooo). 

That’s where suguru comes in (I see this as a mostly canon-compliant geto never defected au). Obviously he would want to keep up with what his best friend is up to, so he’s like a day one supporter of said idol group. With how the japanese idol industry seems to have a focus on the youth and purity of female idols, I could definitely see suguru wanting to “protect his oshi’s innocence” . . .

So if (let’s be honest, WHEN) satosugu bring idol darling home, I could totally see suguru just absolutely babying the poor girl to kind of a weird infantilizing degree?? If that makes sense?? Like very much trying to condition darling into relying on them for everything

I would assume that satoru would be a lot more upfront about how much of a gross perv he is (especially since he probably mistreated the group members to some extent)

I think they would expect total compliance from darling, but if darling ever acts up I can’t help but think one of their go-to punishments would be forcing her to perform the groups choreographies with some sort of “handicap” ie vibrator taped to her pussy at the full speed (and yes they would probably reprimand if she messes up - gotta make sure their number one idol isn’t missing practice!!

Speaking of missing practice/group activities, I fully believe it is within satoru’s capabilities to spread the narrative that darling just kinda . . . suddenly “graduated” from the group and left without a trace, so therefore the other members shouldn’t worry about her and should instead just resume group activities!! (I could also see satosugu using this as some kind of mental leverage over idol darling - like “hey, your group is actually way more popular now that you’ve left”)

Sorry gang I fear I let the thoughts simmer for too long . . .

please let me know your thoughts :3

tw - non/con, kidnapping, idol exploitation, long-term stalking, and obsessive behavior.

WAIT may i suggest: suguru and satoru as parasocial ultra-fans of the same idol as kind of an escapism thing from the stress of being some of the world's most powerful sorcerers, with satoru having the fortune to completely devote himself to making him and suguru your #1 fans. you start to recognize them around the fifth time they miraculously appear at the very front of the line for your post-concert meet-and-greet, but since they're a little bit older and they always have a small gaggle of shy, but polite preteens with them, you just assume they're a pair of wealthy fathers eager to fuel their kids' shared fixation. sure, it's a little strange that the white-haired man always seems more excited to shake your hand than his standoffish son, and it does raise a few concerns when the twin girls spend the majority of their time with you gushing about their black-haired father, but you're a very popular idol with a very busy schedule. you don't have a lot of time to think about one strange family out of the hundred or so you'll meet, that night.

you don't have a lot of time to think about them until your group starts getting extravagant, expensive gifts and donations - always paired with the a gushing fan letter and always sent from one of two increasingly familiar names. since you always seem to be the primary focus, you're the one pressured by your producers to film 'thank you' videos that are just a little too intimidate, to post the type of pictures your generous sponsors compliment the most heavily more often than you may like to. it gets to the point where you're being asked how you'd feel about ""private shows"" to ""ensure the support of a select demographic"", but you adamantly refuse every time it's brought up. it's enough to have to deal with satoru's touchiness at your handshake events, suguru's prying gaze from his permanent seat in the front row of your group's concerts. you don't need to be trapped in the same room as them, alone and all-but paid to cooperate, to know that you want as little to do with them as possible.

that is, until your producer slips you a drink that's just a little too bitter during rehearsal and you wake up in a large room decorated entirely with your merch and memorabilia, to satoru's head between your thighs and suguru behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder as he tells you about how excited they are to finally meet their favorite idol in person, how patiently they've been waiting for you to finally retire and take on a more domestic lifestyle. they'll be delighted to find out that, because of how long you've been in the industry and how protective your fans can be, you're still very much a virgin, and you very much need your two biggest fans to show you what you've been missing <3 if you're lucky, they'll even add pictures of your first climax to the shrine they've been building since they day they first discovered you, the shrine they're going to be keeping you inside of from now on. you might be crying, sure, begging to be let go, but that's alright.

in time, you'll realize how lucky you are to have such devoted fans.

[maxdibert]

What are your headcanons on Severus and the Malfoys? Do you think he genuinely considered them friends, or was it part of his cover? Or were they ever really friends at some point?

I have so much to say about this! I actually have two different versions of the story, and I think both of them could be canon. I can never decide between them because both seem plausible, so I’ll share my opinion on each and let everyone decide which one fits best.

Despite being a poor, scruffy, half-blood kid from a working-class background, I think Lucius took Severus under his wing because, after all, Lucius was already a 15-year-old teenager who was likely quite involved in pure-blood extremist circles and had probably heard of Voldemort by then. He was probably trying to make a good impression by recruiting as many people as possible. And despite Severus’ background, treating him with respect was a pretty shrewd move to maintain unity within Slytherin and promote that “us against the world” mentality. This would ultimately foster the cult-like environment that developed during that era. I also think that, after seeing that Severus, beyond his background, had a strong interest and talent for the Dark Arts and was a good student, Lucius probably saw that Severus’ skills could be useful, which is why he kept him under his wing. Lucius Malfoy is often portrayed as a snobbish buffoon, but besides being a shrewd man, he’s part of high society, old money. And even the classist aristocrats know how to make use of the working class and recognize talent because, historically, they’ve maintained their position by exploiting such talent.

I think Lucius and Severus maintained that mentor-pupil relationship for many years, and once Lucius graduated, he intervened to help Severus be accepted and valued within his House while also using him as a sort of personal charity project. Like Cher in Clueless (who’s based on Emma Woodhouse from Jane Austen) taking on an awkward kid from the North without wealth or pedigree and turning him into someone fit for high magical society—a kind of social experiment, if you will. I think this made Severus feel indebted to him, at least before Voldemort killed Lily. I also believe that, during Severus’ school years, his gratitude stemmed not only from this “mentorship” but also from the fact that, for the first time, someone believed in him and motivated him to pursue his ambitions. Lucius was like a father/older brother figure whom he respected and appreciated for seeing him as more than just a poor kid with nothing.

That said, my interpretation of their relationship splits into two possibilities once Severus becomes a double agent.

On one hand, there’s the idea that, after Lily’s death, feeling guilty and determined to actively work for Voldemort’s downfall, Severus emotionally distanced himself from the Malfoys as much as possible. The relationship they developed over the next 18 years would then be solely a means to an end—to gain favor with someone influential within the Ministry and among the most important dark wizards. Deep down, it was all a façade because the Malfoys also represented everything he despised and regretted being a part of, so he decided to cut off any emotional attachment to them. Basically: it was all fake.

The other version, and the one I prefer because it feels more realistic, is that Severus, as the abused and abandoned child he was, would always experience cognitive dissonance toward people who treated him well during his most vulnerable years. It’s something evident in his view of Lily, even though he was joining a group that literally wanted to kill people like her, and I can see it applying to his view of the Malfoys as well. Though they were a family actively working to end people like Lily, and Severus would ultimately have to confront them if it came to it, he’d still struggle to sever his emotional ties with the Malfoys. Just as he couldn’t understand why his friendship with Lily was ending because of his choices, I don’t think he’d be able to emotionally cut off the Malfoys, even if he knew they were terrible or knew he might eventually have to face them in battle. Much like how Lily being the first person to treat him with kindness was enough to make him risk everything to atone for his indirect role in her death and his support of Voldemort, I think Lucius “taking him in” also carved out a streak of loyalty in Severus toward his family. Severus strikes me as someone fiercely loyal to anyone who’s shown him kindness or understanding, even if that loyalty is against his own interests. And despite everything, I think he genuinely cared about the Malfoys. While he no longer admired Lucius, I think he still respected him in a certain way, like a younger brother who knows his older brother is a jerk but still sees him as his older brother.

I also think Narcissa had a kind of “older sister” vibe for him—that when she and Lucius were dating and Severus was still a kid, she saw him as this scruffy little guy, like a cute but poor puppy. And that impression probably stuck with him too. I think he always felt more comfortable with her than with Lucius, since she was associated more with the maternal than with authority. While his favoritism toward Slytherins was partly to maintain appearances and partly due to resentment toward Gryffindors, I believe he genuinely liked Draco. This affection, though, was likely another form of cognitive dissonance because Draco was far more similar to James than Harry ever was (in terms of character, classism, and using his status, family name, and influence to torment others). But just as his hatred of Harry was a reflection of his resentment toward James, his affection for Draco was probably a reflection of his relationship with Lucius and Narcissa.

[blindmagdalena]

If A-Train was able to get a redemption arc, I don’t see why Homie couldn’t get one (I know he won’t). It’s just so annoying to me when people say Homie is irredeemable. I mean of all the villains of the show, he actually has a reason to be one based on what Vought did to him as a child and then as an adult. Like duh. What did they think would happen?? A-Train on the other hand, didn’t really have a reason to be a villain. He grew up with a loving family. He just turned out to be an asshole but gets a redemption arc. I just really want justice for Homie but it’ll never happen in canon. Thank goodness for fanfic and all the wonderful work you do!!!

so, i feel like there's a fundamental misunderstanding of the redemption arc here. the real reason Homelander is "irredeemable" is because he doesn't seek redemption. he has neither the moral capacity nor the desire.

redemption arcs aren't about who has the saddest backstory or who's more "justified" in their villainy. they're about people who feel genuine remorse for their actions and make the choice to do better. to atone.

Homelander doesn't believe he's in the wrong. he fully believes that he is justified in everything he does, and everyone he hurts. unless that CORE truth of his character changes, no, he cannot have a redemption arc.

A-Train, on the other end, is a perfect example of a well-executed redemption arc. he was absolutely NOT an asshole for no reason. sure, he wasn't raised in a lab, but his life was still FULL of abuse and exploitation. from the moment he was born, his parents pumped him full of an experimental drug. his father died when he was still a baby, and his mother worked two jobs while his young brother raised him. kids can't raise kids. his situation was tragic. i mean, for god's sake, his powers developed when he was a three year old (!!!!!!!!!!) because he was running away from the bullets of a deadly shooting towards his home.

so from the age of three, he became the breadwinner for his family. he was trained and likely performed in all kinds of ways. there's no way he didn't with how poor his family was. once he was old enough, he got picked up into Vought's programming and continued to endure god knows what kind of abuse from them. we know for a FACT that every child star of Vought ends up miserable and ruined in some way from the shit they're put through.

remember why he fell in love with Popclaw? "Here's someone who isn't afraid to be happy."

that's heartbreaking. he worked his ass off his entire life and didn't even know how to be happy because of it. even when he went to GodU, Brink commented that he was "the most driven kid he trained." because he had no choice! he was the one supporting his family out of poverty.

i'm not saying A-Train is perfect. i'm not even saying he wasn't an asshole. he was! but to claim he had no reason to turn out the way he did isn't fair. he did a lot of shitty things, he turned to drugs when his powers started to fail him, and he accidentally killed a woman because he was blitzed out of his mind on V... doing a drug run for Homelander. he's then forced by Homelander to kill the woman he loves. he did a cowardly, vile thing, and he has expressed nothing but anguish over it ever since.

but like... in the grand scheme of things, was he really that bad? he spirals and struggles. he gets mocked, he tries desperately to find his identity. the fact his brother shames him for not being connected to a community he was unplugged from because he was shunted into fame and exploitation at a young age sucks.

Reggie, that sweet little boy, was failed in every conceivable way and he became a dysfunctional adult that did shitty stuff because of it. now he's gained perspective and he's working to make different choices. i've been hugely invested in his arc because it's GOOD character work.

so while i appreciate and agree with the sentiment and wanting better for Homelander, redemption comes to those who seek it. so far, we have not seen any indication Homelander ever will. maybe he'll pull a Darth Vader moment at the eleventh hour for Ryan's sake, who knows!

either way, on his own merit, A-Train deserves the chance to be and do better.

[atxxzist]

to hell with you | c.s (prologue)

series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 4k

warning: y/n being a serial liar, manipulator & gaslighter. not 4 the faint hearted. somewhat suggestive

a/n: i already told y'all she's gonna b awful

you've had your fair share of disappointments in life--most of them from your parents, other family members who claim to care for your well-being, and some even from wooyoung.

there's only one person who you can ever really count on to not let you down.

"san," he introduced himself, just fourteen years old at the time and still oblivious to what he was getting himself into.

you admit that though you might not excel academically, never caring to go above and beyond and most of the times just barely passing your classes, you have a talent for reading people.

able to tell whether someone is worth your time from just being with them briefly, and choi san was definitely someone worth all the initial fake smiles and enthusiasm because not only did he keep you company because no one else wanted to, san was also quite gifted in the academic department.

as if cursed the day he was seated next to you, you figured out quickly how much of a star student he was, holding a prowess in almost any subjects that would've made your parents proud if he was their kid--and a fact you selfishly used to your advantage.

if it wasn't something coming up that was preventing you from doing your work, it was that you didn't understand the assignment and it'd just be easier if he did both his and your part.

and if it wasn't that, then you were mostly just copying off of him--another thing he made extremely easy because you also picked up quite early on that san likes you.

unfortunately growing up, you were never been one for romance, trashing the concept and rejecting every boys that has ever asked you out, your cousin was convinced at one point you were asexual.

even san, you didn't feel much different toward besides the very obvious facts he made school much easier for you, and that you had someone else to talk to aside from wooyoung.

still, you stuck with him all through high school and even learned to appreciate some parts of him even if they didn't necessarily benefit you in any ways, given the bigger picture was that he was more useful than useless.

san is the only person who has never said no to you regardless of anything, even if he has a hard time with it in general; you having seen first-hand the few times he'd let someone step all over him or be too afraid to ask for money back that was rightfully owed to him.

you had been the voice of reasons for most of those instances, stepping up in his place when he was too timid to do it himself, offended at the mere thought that someone else believed they could just take advantage of san's kindness.

it's incredibly ironic, you understand, because it isn't someone not paying him back or asking to copy a quick problem that's gonna hurt him in the long run.

it's his 'best friend' knowingly and fully aware of the kind of person he is; that maybe sometimes he doesn't say no not because he's afraid, but because he genuinely wants to do it... whether out of goodness or whatever other reasons he has--and exploiting this quality of him.

because you knew he couldn't say no, especially not to you.

not the first time when you lied about being sick so he would do your homework just because you didn't feel like it, and not the most recent when you lied about being away for some 'family business' when you really just flew out to jeju with your cousin for an entire week of vacation, leaving the bulk of your university assignments for san to figure out.

and the worst thing you've ever done according wooyoung, knowing san definitely wasn't gonna say no--asking him to have sex with you.

even if he wanted to, and even if it was consensual, wooyoung having grown a soft spot for the poor boy you've been stringing along--thought it was a horrible idea. he still does.

told you it could get messy quickly, adding something as intimate as sex into an already complicated enough situation when you planned on the relationship staying the same even after.

but you assured him as you always do, saying everything is gonna be okay because san seemed fine with it, and so were you. didn't stop him from saying the same thing he does every time.

"you're sure he's fine with it, or did you just assumed that?"

a remark that always made you roll your eyes, because you didn't doubt a bit that san was more than fine. he likes you, why wouldn't he wanna sleep with you? plus, the idea came up in the first place because it was a known fact between the two of you that you were both virgins.

"i'm failing to see what's the problem?" you shrug nonchalantly, having confessed the deed just the day after it was done and thinking wooyoung would understand, though you should've seen it coming at this point.

"i mean, isn't it better to lose your virginity to someone you trust?" you add, only to the look of disappointment on your cousin's face; the same one he's given you one too many times by now.

(also the same one he gave you after you fessed up about having lied regarding having no classes so you could take the jeju trip with him)

he shakes his head and let out a short breath.

"i'm not here to judge anyone's sex lives because there's a reason one night stands and friends with benefits are a thing, but it's a horrible idea because of the history between you and san. the feelings you know he has for you... you're kind of taking advantage of that."

but in classic you style, you usually don't wanna listen to wooyoung unless he's agreeing with you; letting out an annoyed sigh and making sure he hears it before crossing your arms.

"whatever," you mumble, though wooyoung hears it--not that you care. he's family, so whether you pisses him off or not doesn't really matter all that much.

he says something under his breath that you pretend to pay no attention to.

"you're literally a sociopath."

so maybe san's friends doesn't like you for a reason--not that you really care about that, too. after all, they're not the ones who's known you for years or getting asked for favors--most of which san does so contently, sometimes even offering it himself.

or maybe they don't like that you're always taking him from them, always catching the pure annoyance and eye rolls when you make the slightest appearance at their library table, knowing damn well the only reason why you're even here at all.

you can appreciate yeosang for keeping his composure and acting like he can stand you, even if you probably irritate him just as much as the other two who usually isn't as friendly and will let you know.

"guess who," you say in your sweet voice the same time you cover san's eyes with your hands from behind, nails perfectly painted and all, ignoring the side eye mingi gave you just a few seconds ago when he caught you heading this way.

"hey," san says, a small giggle accompanying his response, prying your hands from his vision gently and turning to meet the pretty smile on your lips.

"whatchu doing?" you ask, peeking over his shoulder that lifts your heels off the floor and makes your short skirt rise just a little, the fabric barely safe enough to cover parts of you that shouldn't be seen, especially in public, to see that he's currently reading through a textbook.

"just finishing up a chapter," he answers, much to the smirk on your lips that's about to say something, when mingi beats you to it.

"just cut to it. no need to act like you actually care about what we're doing, especially anything concerning school works," the boy says harshly, accustomed to your little routine and just how things work in your world, pretending to care about san and anything that doesn't involve you before it will eventually become all about you.

san opens his mouth to defend you, but you cut him off, also well-accustomed to dealing with people like mingi and yunho.

"of course i care. i mean, who wouldn't want to hear all about..." you pause to read the title of the closed textbook sitting in front of mingi, "the principles of physics," you say sarcastically with a high-pitched voice you know will tick his gears.

mingi's grip clenches, and this time, it's san that cuts him off before things can escalate any further (and they will).

he closes the book he was reading and grabs at his backpack quickly the same time he jumps onto mingi's words mid-sentence.

"okay! well we should probably get going," he says, looking down at you with a tiny smile that you return.

immediately, you latch your arm around his and wave to the group of very irritated boys; san barely managing to say a proper goodbye before you drag him away.

"sorry about that," san says once you're both out the library, his face as apologetic as they come.

"it's fine. you know i don't care," you reply, as if getting snide remarks and insults hurled at you is just something as casual and expected as having to eat or drink water everyday, though san tries his best to separate you from his friends because it's too many times that someone ends up with their feelings hurt; 9/10 times that someone either being yunho or mingi.

san nods it off, something seemingly on his mind.

"i-i didn't know you'd show. if i did, i would've suggested we meet out here, or in the dorms."

"i texted you in the morning. you didn't answer," you tell him, stating the obvious but his reaction is as if this is news.

"right. i apologize. i was going to, but i forgot."

you can't help but to crank an eyebrow at the strangeness of it all, but you don't get to linger on the thoughts because san's quick to break it.

"did you have something you wanted to tell me?" he asks.

"i was gonna ask if you'd be free to help me study this friday." as if you already don't know his answer. as if you care whether or not he has something else going on beside to clear all of his schedules at your beck and call.

but expect the unexpected, because san surprises you. he doesn't instantly nod his head or says yes the way you know him to.

instead, he asks in an unsure, almost disappointed voice, "this friday?"

"yeah. right now we're going through some really boring chapters in fashion class. something about the history of it and textiles fundamentals," you tell him, sounding as disheartened as you can, which is usually code for 'i need you to do the work for me basically'.

it takes him longer than needed to finally respond, as if his mind preoccupied and hesitating--a sight you don't think you've ever seen of san before.

"i might have something that friday, so i'll think about it."

and for the first time in your life ever since you've known him, choi san gives you a 'maybe'. gasp. the audacity.

you immediately cross your arms, looking him up and down as if interrogating, saying it playfully and mischieviously but definitely meaning the words coming out of your mouth, "you have something better that friday or what?"

san cooly plays it off and starts walking away the same time he answers, "i said i'll think about it." causing you to skip frantically behind him to catch up before stopping in front of him, the sudden appearance almost causing the two of you to bump into each other.

a stare-off and a couple seconds of silence ensues before you blurt out, "i'll fuck you if you come this friday."

he laughs, the dimples you hate to admit you love, shows itself along with the shake of his head.

"you'd fuck me either way," he says, to a teasing smile on your lips.

"maybe," you mutter, jumping to his side that second to wrap your arm around his again, this time leaning your head on his shoulder to look up at him through your perfectly curled lashes.

"please?" you say in the sweetest voice possible, a pout accompanying your lips to be even more convincing.

but again, he only chuckles it off, mumbling, "we'll see." leaving a permanent frown on your face the rest of the day, because no matter how much you pester him, he isn't moved the slightest.

you can't believe it.

san was a lot more compliant in high school, like he didn't live for anything else but to carry out orders from you. of course, it made sense because you were his only 'friend'.

then came college, the journey that had began a year ago, and within just the first few months, he was telling you about guys he met in his classes who seemed like they actually wanted to be his friends.

guys who shared all the same nerdy interests as him; nose either always in books or video games tournaments you don't really care too much for, though you tried showing some enthusiam whenever san talked about it.

the same guys who sits in the library with him everyday at 12 in the afternoon, probably whispering things into his ears about you and why he should hate your guts, too.

it's no doubt that could be why he's been acting so weird lately.

not texting you as much the past few days, and even completely scrapping the usual schedule you guys had after classes for an entire week now, telling you he and his friends are prepping for a gaming club of some sort.

and you can deal with a little change of behaviors; even some hesitation as long as he comes back around, but you absolutely cannot deal with san straight up telling you no.

"i can't," he says over the phone, his voice stern but still holding back some fear, afraid of your reaction.

"what!" you yell in disbelief. "san, you cannot be fucking kidding me."

this isn't happening.

"i'm sorry. i-i--"

"you what?" you cut him off, the pink in your room now turning red in your vision. "what other better things do you have to do?"

"i'll make up to you, i promise," he tries to reasoning, tone apologetic, but you're still not having it.

"you know what? whatever. forget about it." then you hang up. just like that. just like whenever things doesn't go your way.

what are you supposed to do now? study for your own classes and do your own assignments? unbelievable.

"yeah that's kind of crazy. having to do the work yourself? damn." wooyoung's sarcastic response fills the speaker of your phone, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"shut the fuck up, woo."

you let out a groan and slam the textbook shut, rolling your back onto the bed to stare up at the chandelier.

"i can't do this any second longer. it's pure fucking torture," you complain.

"it's only been five minutes, y/n," your cousin states the obvious.

"i know, and i hate it. why the hell do we need to learn about this shit when i already know all there is to know about fashion?"

"well if you supposedly already know everything, then shouldn't this be a breeze for you?"

"logically. but it's not. all these questions are too fucking specific."

since san isn't gonna be coming in tomorrow, you figure you needed to start ahead of time just so you'll have enough room to moan and groan, having to actually do the work yourself now.

"so what would keep him so busy on such a friday?" wooyoung asks after a necessary moment of peace and quiet in order for you to finish a paragraph.

"he wouldn't tell me, but it was probably something to do with his friends. they don't like me."

since you can't possibly think of any other bigger importance than you on san's list.

"anywho, either later tonight or tomorrow morning, he will most likely reach out again," you add, because that's how it works. that's how it has always worked.

you getting upset or ticked off when your plans fall in shambles, and san always apologizing even if he beared no faults.

but san is just full of surprises this week, because you wake up expecting his name on the screen of your phone given he didn't get back to you last night, but all there is are meaningless notifications from the few apps you have.

you could reach out first but why would you? that would ruin your entire brand.

so you strut to classes and think about the actual crazy possibility that san isn't gonna apologize; that he's actually ignoring you--all of which is hard to wrap your head around currently.

it's only 10 in the morning and it's already the longest you and san has gone without communicating.

you keep yourself busy between classes thinking back to wooyoung's offer last night and reconsidering it.

"now that he pretty much blew you off, why don't you come with me tomorrow? finish what you can tonight. you still have another week anyway. besides, it's better than rotting in your room alone on a friday."

but you had told him with the surest confidence that san was gonna call or text, and you two would've already made up by the time the party starts, so you were not gonna be able to make it.

you can't stand parties in general; the smell, the people, the noise, and just everything about having a bunch of teens and barely young adults in one place is incredibly tacky.

the first one you went out of curiosity, and the second one was because wooyoung, your cousin who's the life of the party, of course, dragged you to it.

he had wanted you to get to know some of his university friends, only for them to unfortunately not even make the event because something came up.

he said they're showing for sure this time.

you tell wooyoung if san doesn't get back to you by 3, you'll go; and you're currently getting dressed to head out with him because san doesn't fucking get back to you at all.

"fuck him," you curse as you plop down in the passenger seat, the offhanded comment causing a burst of laughter from wooyoung. "no, seriously, what the fuck could he be doing?"

san's pretty much ghosting you. your jaw is on the floor.

"okay but is it really ghosting if you haven't even tried reaching out at all?" wooyoung quips, raising an eyebrow at you, already able to see the disbelief currently painting your expression just from his peripheral vision.

"you're not making me feel any better, woo," you whine, crossing your arms and frowning like a child as you stare at the road ahead.

"i'm just trying to be rational here."

"sure, because it sounds like you're always taking his side."

"i'm not picking sides, and even if i am, i'll always try my best to stand behind who's family."

you scoff and roll your eyes, muttering, "sure."

a short silence fly by before wooyoung speaks again, "but if you really wanna feel better, you made the right choice in coming tonight."

but actually being there just makes you do a double take if this was indeed the right choice, because you currently feel suffocated being dragged through the crowd once again by your cousin as he tries to find an open space.

"think somebody tried to touch my ass," you tell him with disgust, patting your wrinkled skirt.

he opens his mouth to respond, but his attention's quickly taken away by someone else; the young man who just came out of nowhere goes to hug your cousin and the two engages in some bro handshake while you just stare, looking as out of place as one can be.

the stranger doesn't seem to notice you until wooyoung switches his gaze back and actually introduces you.

"right. this is my cousin i've been telling you guys all about," he says, nodding your direction that prompts the man to turn to you with an immediate smile.

"ah," the man churns. "y/n, right? i've heard you got quite the personality."

he holds out a hand and you return the gesture politely. if you actually gave a shit about guys, you'd say this man is actually quite pleasant to the eyes.

"oh, i'm curious about just what kind of things wooyoung's saying behind my back," you reply, a faint smirk already on your lips as you meet wooyoung's gaze behind this man.

"nothing but good things, of course," he cries dramatically, rolling his eyes simultaneously; the sight erupting a chuckle from the man whose name you still don't know.

"seonghwa," he finally says, the answer pulling your eyes back to his.

"seonghwa," you repeat to yourself with a tiny smile. "nice to meet you."

then comes hongjoong after; someone whose entrance is a lot bigger in comparison to seonghwa, something about the way he presents himself earning some respect from you--and you can't say that about many people.

seonghwa's a close second, but you probably like hongjoong the best out of wooyoung's friends.

but it's not even a competition regarding who you like least, because you know it the second you're left alone with him when everyone but you and him decides to sit out a drinking game (huge mistake).

"who do you think is gonna win?"

"that was so stupid, if i was playing, i would never do that."

"oh, i really like this song."

"people likes to tell me i got a talent for singing but i don't really know."

you appreciate him for trying to break the ice, but right now, you'd rather watch paint dry.

"look, i really don't care," you spit out, the first words you've spoken ever since the rest left you guys to be.

and you almost expect him to be offended, but you shouldn't have been surprised when he just gawks at you, seemingly unfazed. judging from his obnoxious personality, it only makes sense he has a higher than usual tolerance for someone like you.

"wow," he says casually. "wooyoung's right. you are mean."

you fake a smile and turn your attention back to the ensuing chaos happening in front, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for jongho to hear, "perfect. i'm glad i got my point across."

"he also said it's best we don't get too close to you even if you're his cousin. but that's okay, i think you're totally hot."

the comment makes you snap your neck to him, a scoff escaping your lips and incredulity crossing your face because you can see his gaze lowering to the end of your skirt.

"seriously, fuck off before i hurt your feelings," you curse at him, rolling your eyes one last time and brushing past his shoulder harshly to get elsewhere, but the boy chases behind you much to your annoyance.

"please! i'm sorry! i didn't mean to!" you can hear him through the shouting music, but you're just dead set on losing him at this point, going everywhere and anywhere; the thoughts of san completely forgotten at the appearance of another problem, when the sudden pierce of a laughter reminds you of it all over again.

one so familiar and close as if you've been hearing it for years, swiftly turning your head to the source, and there he is. choi mother fucking san.

all the reasons and explanations for why he has been acting so strange, and why he blew you off this very night. all so he could come to this party with the very same bitch he told you he didn't care for.

now suddenly sitting across from her and fondly looking at her; a sight that makes your stomach queasy, you don't even care jongho has caught up to you as he bumps right into your back.

in the span of just a few days, san, for the very first time, tells you no and lets you down.

-`♡´-

a/n: i literally cannot use a divider or the post won't show up in the tags 🤡 but there it is, folks. the start of another mess. i'm a liar & for anyone waiting on sweetest lies, i swear i tried so hard to write the final chapter, it literally put me in a writing slump bc i was just not making any progress at all. i just needed to write something and writing this has got me out of the slump temporarily, so for you sweetest lies readers, pls wait just a little more 🙏

taglist: @sorryimananti-romantic @cherrychristie @santineez @barbielibra

[coolbeansnico]

I've caved. Here's my Avatar The Last Airbender uni au and modern/non bender au headcanons.

Here's what I think the main kids uni majors/minors would be:

Aang: wildlife conservation with a minor in political sciences

Katara: medicine, education minor

Sokka: engineering, polisci minor

Toph: geology with a martial arts minor (changed my mind, education minor)

Zuko: forced to do law & politics by his family but switches to history/anthropology, keeping politics as a minor

Azula: law w a psychology minor

Mai: forced to do politics by family but wants to do art, history minor

Ty Lee: training in acrobatics and performance at a performing arts school and works at the circus

Suki: human relations and activism, martial arts minor

Yue: Dance major (same school as Ty Lee, polisci minor

☆

Living situations:

Katara and Sokka flat together and eventually Aang becomes a permanent resident

Toph lives right across from them, she likes her own space and independence but she'd never want to be too far from her friends

Zuko lives with Iroh above his teashop and works there part time

Suki has a sharehouse with the kyoshi warriors (her hockey team)

Ty Lee and Yue get assigned room-mates first year and became pretty quick friends, they continue to live together afterwards

Azula has her own apartment (of course). So does Mai, but she spends so much time at Azulas she basically lives there. Neither of them would admit it but they much prefer it to having whole houses to themselves.

---

General modern au/non bender au hcs:

(Pretty obvious) Ethnicity n nationality hcs:

Sokka and Katara r Inuit and from Alaska

Azula, Zuko and Mai are all Japanese American

Ty Lee is Japanese and Mongolian

Toph is Chinese and Singaporean (born in Singapore)

Aang is Bhutanese (so is Gyatso), but he grew up in Singapore. Him and Toph were childhood friends

Yue is Inuit and Sámi and her family lives in north-east Canada

Suki is mixed Chinese, Filipino and French-Canadian and live in an island off of Quebec

Have not decided where the uni would be but probably BSSU (Ba Sing Se uni) cause I know a lot of ppl use that as the uni name

I don't know a ton about US and Canadian geography so if y'all have ideas for what states or provinces the characters would hail from (especially what state/city Zuko, Azula, Mai and Ty Lee grew up in) I would def appreciate the suggestions

☆

Aang has a Tibetan Mastiff called Appa and Sokka has a Siamese cat called Momo (he found him behind a dumpster looking for food scraps and Sokka knew he'd found a kindred spirit,,, much to Kataras initial dismay)

Aang grew up in a sort of hippie/alternative living foster home that taughtbuddist beliefs, he never knew his real parents but he was okay with that.

I'm a fan of bigcorp ceo Ozai but also political tyrant Ozai works as well so I'm srsly torn on that. Politician Ozai would either have to be a nation ruler or American ambassador because I like to think Zuko and Azula moved around a lot as kids so he couldn't have a job that keeps him in ine place. That's why I like the idea of ceo Ozai. He would still have a lot of political power and it would still mean moving around a lot plus him being super corrupt and exploiting his workers is fun for angst.

Oh and!! Zuko and Azula lived in Singapore for part of highschool and their family visited a lot for holidays. Since Tophs parents and Ozai worked together, Zuko and Azula were around at The Beifongs a lot and entertained themselves by making fun of Toph for hanging out with a "poor tree hugging commoner" like Aang

---

I may add more to this so look out for a part 2

♡♡

I'm currently working on drawing them (and maybe chara profiles with sexualities, pronouns, character aesthetics/how I think they'd dress, interests ect) :] I've done the boys and the (non fire nation) gals are next!!

[manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension]

Can you do a sebastian(pressure), not a reader but a expendable, and Sebastian though at first his same snarky self but now is fatherly to the character, saying things like way to go kid and im proud of you.

This was really fun to do! But I don't know what you meant by "not a reader, but an expendable," so I just decided to make it gender neutral. You're my first ever request, so thank you!! :3

wc: 464

At first, he didn't really think much of it. After all, the blacksite was full of prisoners, and even if twenty of them died in the same hour, they'd be replaced instantly by a new batch of imbeciles who thought they could conquer whatever abominations resided within the facility. Sebastian wasn't one to pity them. I mean, who would? It's a prison, for fuck's sake! Even if Urbanshade had unfair trials, it still housed the world's most wanted criminals - murderers, tattooed from head to toe, cartel members, mafia enthusiasts and other scums that came into his shop, threatened him to try and bag a blacklight for a lower price, and then... well, then they got shot.

But it had been weeks since this whole operation started, and no one managed to snag the crystal. Prisoners that were once cruel and infamous turned into a younger batch who was arrested for graffiti and stealing gum packets from the local supermarket. Some were even students, and Sebastian couldn't help but see himself in them - afraid, alone and hopeless. He'd never admit it, but seeing them drop dead one by one tugged at his heart strings. But the thing that worried him most was a particular expendable who returned to his shop every now and then, seeking shelter. Sebastian and that person had a lot in common, and although he was colder at first, now he'd found himself warming up to this new friend. If a code breacher was 200 data for another prisoner, this expendable would have it for 150. And don't even worry about batteries! They're on the house, of course. There's too many laying around either way (but between us, there weren't - Sebastian could only be glad that his friend wasn't exploiting him, otherwise he'd go bankrupt).

Frankly, he treated them as family. Instead of snarky comments, he'd gently pat their head and tell them he's proud. And he was, really! His eyes would light up when they brought more data or trinkets to gift him. Soon, he had them help to build a shelf for all of the "treasures" he received. It wasn't rare to see Sebastian and the prisoner spend hours on end conversing about common hobbies and interests. If only he still had his electric guitar... but, no matter. It was still fun. For the first time in so many years, he felt like he had a family. Like he was a father, and this poor soul was his child. Taking care of them and occasionally their friends, showing them around the blacksite and teaching them how to avoid monsters were his favorite activities. Even more than that, he liked how the days ended: with his kid wrapped up in his tail as he stroked their head and told them stories.

[madelynhimegami]

Lemres Guide

Tossing this out before leaving for work. I've almost definitely forgotten something

Lemres's general goal is to make those around him happy.

It's why he talks the way he does (especially in Japanese) and why he's so eager to give people sweets and desserts.

While he's very much aware of others being initially suspicious of him, he doesn't seem to realize that it's the aforementioned that does it.

My guess is, he believes people consider him sketchy is because of his outfit's colors.

Fever 2's description of his transformation item says that the robes of certified mages (at least in Primp's world) are enchanted to reflect the magic of the person wearing it.

Lemres's magic, much to his chagrin, is predisposed to dark magic, hence the darker green color.

He comes from am aristocratic family of dark mages. His parents often exploited his skill with magic to boost their reputation. He didn't like this.

It was during this period of his life that he learned how to bake, so he could do something with his hands that wasn't what his parents wanted.

He often snuck out of his house to share what he made with wild animals.

A chance encounter with Prince Salde led to Lemres first transforming him into the fish form he so often uses.

Salde's desire to flee from his home in search of freedom was what led to Lemres ultimately doing the same.

As mentioned, Lemres is a certified sorcerer, which is why he holds the title of Comet Warlock.

That being said, Lemres is still in school. He's high school student-aged (so 16-18), in fact.

He has opted to continue learning at his school, instead of accepting any apprenticeships he's been offered.

Lemres is perfectly capable of crafting his treats with magic, but prefers to continue making it by hand.

When he pulls treats from seemingly nowhere, he's actually summoning them from his (physical?) storage.

Lemres typically powers his spells using his own blood sugar as an energy source. It's easier for him to not perform any dark magic that way.

Either way, he eats the candy and pastries he makes to keep himself healthy.

Otherwise he risks becoming hypoglycemic when he uses too much magic (hence his story in 20th).

The other side of Lemres overall wanting to make people happy, is that he never wants to do anything that will make somebody unhappy. Even if it would mean making a better choice.

Generally, Lemres has pretty good social intelligence, and is able to read situations well.

He's at his best when he's helping others with simple problems. For instance, when Feli was struggling with Swap rules in Tet2, or when he bumped into Carbuncle in Puzzle Pop.

As things get more complex and/or personal, it becomes increasingly clear that Lemres gets awkward and makes poor decisions.

He's quite well aware of just how much Feli and Klug admire/crush on him, but he doesn't feel comfortable asserting his boundaries. He thinks if he flat-out rejects them, it would hurt them. So he feels like he has to just kinda awkwardly deal.

He is highly evasive where it concerns things he's in the know about that are not immediately part of the current story's plot, prefering to just say "It's nothing, don't worry about it" (whether it works, depends on who's paying attention).

He's particularly evasive about anything related to the Tome of Sealing, or about Sig's power, even when one or both are immediately part of the current story's plot.

The first time (since moving to Primp) that Sig started losing control of his power, Lemres tried to suggest to a worrying Amitie that maybe Sig just needed some time to breathe, away from her. Despite knowing full well that was absolutely not the issue.

(Amitie just became terrified that she had been a terrible friend)

Lemres isn't so stuck to his lies that he doesn't know when to fess up when there's no denying the truth, though. He's the one to first say, point-blank, that Sig will die if he can't rein in his power.

Granted, he's still very much still a kid. His poor decisions are also partially the result of just being an awkward teenager.

Example, when he encountered blackout-drunk Klug, he decided to not do anything about it, reasoning that it would pass through his system eventually, right?

He also didn't do so well with trying to convince Ecolo not to resort to murder.

And then there's his aforementioned fanclub, which he especially doesn't know what to do about when they start getting at each other's throats.

He outright admits to Lidelle that he wishes he knew how to get Klug and Feli to stop fighting.

He often consults Accord on serious matters, but as Lemres is not one of her students, it's not exactly clear what sort of relationship they have.

He probably has a similar working relation with Akuma, but we don't see it often because Akuma's isn't shown anymore.

Lemres does not attend Primp Magic School. He goes to an elite school at an as-of-yet-unnamed town located across the desert just outside of Primp Town.

If the fact that he got a sorcerer title while still in high school (and his boss-tier Puyo AI) didn't tip you off, Lemres genuinely is a genius at magic. He's able to figure out what he does about the given story's events because of how quick he is at figuring stuff out.

When engaging with others, Lemres generally tries to be polite, encouraging, and giving others the benefit of the doubt, regardless of personal feelings.

[sunshine-zenith]

Actually yeah I’m jumping back on my bullshit and doing another ramble about small details in Nimona

Specifically the fact that, in the movie, little Ballister already has his eye scar

In the comic, he gets the scar at the same time he loses the arm, but how he loses it in the book and the movie are different — in the comic he’s basically hit by a tiny missile, so it makes sense he would take a lot more damage overall, while in the movie it’s lost in a sword chop, so unless Ambrosius’s impulsive “disarming” also involves additional face stabbing, it wouldn’t make sense in the movie canon for him to give Bal the face scar here. But Ballister bleeds a bit from the head after the Gloradome collapses, and while him walking away with just one face scar instead of several might seem like a stretch, they could’ve played it off. They already had to make a new character model for him with the prosthetic arm, they could’ve also added the face scar to the second model

Instead, they “backdated” the scar all the way to his childhood without giving a backstory for it, and it implies so much about how his life was before he joined the knights

This concept art by Crystal Kung sure doesn’t show a happy and well cared for kid. We know he was homeless/impoverished (the visible patches on clothes, the “street kid/charity case” comments, zero signs of parents when his “commoner” bloodline is emphasized). He could’ve gotten the scar running from someone in the streets, or by getting into a fight since he was a pretty impulsive/bold (see what I did there) kid — jumping a fence and interrupting a knight training session. I can’t help but wonder though…

It’s implied that he’s an orphan, given the fact that all of zero parents are brought up when discussing his “commoner blood,” but it’s never outright stated. ND Stevenson stated that in the comic Ballister’s father gave up custody of his son to pay off his debts, and while the knights are no longer exploited orphans/the Queen doesn’t seem like the type of person to ask for that kind of transaction, it does make me wonder what movie Ballister’s parents were like

Look at those blotches on his face. Sure, they might just be dirt, since it doesn’t look like they bothered to give this poor kid a bath before throwing a media circus in his honor, but compare them to how bruising shows up on his adult self’s face. And if they are bruises, it’s possible that a couple of them are from the whole Tackled By Like Three Fully Grown Adults In Armor thing, but If you look closely, it looks like he already has a blotch before he’s tackled

Granted, his body language doesn’t really change when he sees the knights coming towards him (no flinches or attempts to cover his head, and while he doesn’t move it doesn’t look like he’s freezing) so him being abused might be a stretch, But think about how he holds Ambrosius back from confronting Todd, how he just quietly accepts the verbal harassment and rough treatment. He doesn’t think confronting Todd is worth it — Todd’s bullying was clearly never shut down or addressed over the years, and it’s likely that any attempts at retaliation from Ambrosius or Ballister got them in trouble instead. Bal is just… used to it

Listen. This vulnerable kid was hurt physically by something before he joined the knights. Maybe he had abusive parents, maybe he had an abusive foster family, maybe he was attacked by someone who caught him trying to steal food or something to survive, maybe he was attacked just for being homeless, maybe this wasn’t his first tango with knights. We have no clue. But he got that scar at a very young age and he got it from somewhere

[disgruntled-detectives]

I’ve been gaining a lot of followers lately, so here are a few things about me and what I believe in before you hit that follow button.

1: The Jewish community is my first priority here. They are my people. My community. Therefore, antisemitism of any kind is not welcome here. Am Yisrael Chai, motherfuckers.

And because far too many non-Jews have decided to be dog whistling, This includes the term “anti-Zionism.” If you are not Jewish, or someone I know personally, or I see your comments and see that you are actually educated on what Zionism actually is and what it means, any anti-Zionism comments will get you blocked.

1A: this obviously doesn’t mean you cannot criticize or speak out against the actions of the israeli government. Israel is being monstrous in its treatment of the people of Gaza. It is reprehensible, and I personally want and yearn for a two state solution. I believe that both Jews and Palestinians have a right to safety and self determination in that land. Both groups are indigenous to the land, and both have a right to be there. We can agree or disagree on how this is achieved. I am for civil, productive conversations surrounding this. However, if you are not Jewish, Palestinian, or have family or community ties to either group, then I am giving you a lot of side eye.

1B: However, this does not give you carte blanch to go after random Israeli citizens. Do you go after random Chinese citizens for what the Chinese government is doing to the Uyghurs? Do you go after random US or Canadian citizens for their government’s treatments of their Indigenous population? No. Because that’s asinine. Same goes for Israelis. People are not their government.

1C: Hamas is a terrorist organization. They are not freedom fighters. They are monstrous as well. What they did on October 7th 2023 was the single biggest Jewish massacre since the Holocaust. They need to answer for that. They need to release the hostages. Simple as that. That being said, racism or Islamophobia of any sort will get you blocked.

Okay. That out of the way…

2: Sex work is real, valid, work and it needs to be legalized, regulated and sex workers need and deserve protection and workers rights like any other worker.

3: UBI is one of the best things we can do for people.

4: People need to be creative. And not everything has to be a side hustle. People wouldn’t need a side hustle if they could survive on their wages.

5: We don’t invest nearly enough in the arts and humanities. STEM is necessary too, but humans need art. We’ve been creating since before we had language.

6: best way to end homelessness? Give them homes. The data shows again and again and again that just giving someone a home goes an enormous way to helping them get back on their feet. It helps the economy, it helps the job force and most of all, it helps them.

7: Healthcare should be free for all.

8: Abortion rights are human rights. Abortion is healthcare. Abortion access is vital and necessary.

9: while I think that children are obviously humans and deserve and need more spaces where they are welcomed and catered to, adults need adult only spaces too. Kids do not belong at wineries, bars, concerts (that aren’t geared for kids of course) and breweries.

10: you are not a temporarily embarrassed billionaire. Wealth inequality especially in America is disgusting. The rich only got that way by exploiting the poor and the working class. Your anger shouldn’t be directed at the dentist who makes 200k a year. Your anger should be directed at the billionaire who hoards so much wealth, they or their descendants could never even hope to spend it all. They could snap their fingers and end homelessness, world hunger, etc. Eat them.

11: ANYTHING anti-trans will get you insta blocked. TERFS; go eat a knife.

12: our puritanical views towards sex and sexuality does us all a huge disservice. Everyone involved is a consenting adult? Go for it. Your kink may not be my kink, but sexual freedom and liberation are everyone’s benefit.

13: Everything bagels are the best bagels.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAu - Q&A

As I said! I totally wasn't scheming :3 @spotaus

But i had to wait until you uploaded your drabble about very sneaky Cross to make sure I got more references and a better idea about his character :D

So... here we are :3 Also yes the name of the drabble is a very bad joke but i thought of it and it was too funny.

*------------------------------------------*

Cross just sits there... He is such an idiot!

Getting caught?! As quickly as he did? that must be a record on how incapable he was.

It wasn't as if Cross had an excuse. Dream and Blue warned him! Warned him that the Knights were very skilled and watchful. That he had to leave as soon as he got the information and plans. Do not linger!

That had been the mission!

Instead he was a coward and just. Took too long. He spend too much time trying to form a plan instead of just acting. And then He tried to solve mysteries himself instead of just grabbing and leaving as soon as he could!

But he just... Cross groans.

He hadn't found anything fitting the brief. He hadn't been able to find anything that spoke about hurting people or raising taxes to hurt the poor or anything!

In matter of fact.

All he found was plans to improve the infra structure. To tax the nobels more and lower the taxes on people who earned less. He found information on how the king had contact with farmers to work on more structures and installations to help farmers recover from the change in weather and to fully utilise the land without exhausting it.

Projects on testing mixed crop planting and stricts rotation schedules to make sure the soil itself wasn't exhausted from nutrients or risks infections or fungi growing which would hurt the soil and specific crops.

There was even this whole program about apprentices!! something about orphans and children and teens on the straights and a way to offer them schooling and housing and even training with the people helping them! That the crown would pay these people for helping those who don't have family to count on!

It is still in draft clearly as it had been covered with sidenotes in this very elegant and curve handwriting. notes about how to pay for it. where to start it. which people to ask for posibilities. but also notes about how to check the children. how to make sure the children and teens weren't use or abused or even worse!

And... well... not too shortly after that one of the Knights just... Sat in the chair and spoke casually... Scared the shit out of him at the time.

How was that dude so quiet?! or so strong for that matter?

How could his magic had backfired so badly?

Cross sighs as he turns to his side. He is an IDIOT. How could he have gotten so reckless?

Drema and Blue would have already been happy with him getting anything back from the king's plans... maybe he just couldnt see the danger in them clearly? Hell if he knows what the state in the country is. He knows nothing about this place.

Maybe the things he saw was a bad thing? Maybe there was some... weird way to make them look bad?

Like.

Maybe there was already little nature? Sure Cross saw a lot of it on his way here but hell if he knows? maybe there is little in the cities or soemthing?

Maybe the nobels are already being taxed a lot? maybe this will make the nobels all poor? and euh.... Cross isn't sure how taxing the poor less could be bad but maybe there is some way?

the farming thing... Well... Cross isn't sure... maybe the farmers don't want him to micro manage or soemthing? maybe the king is being too controlling about it? that works...

The children are obvious. those are vulnerable kids and teens! Who are being used and exploited!! Well... he would have to ignore all the sidenotes about the kids wellbeing... and the notes about banning child labor...

Cross groans. Why is it so hard to see the things he is doing as bad?! Dream told him that Nightmare is corrupted and the thing ruling now is evil and terrible and needs to be removed to save his twin!!

Then why are the plans good? Maybe he is faking it? But why? XGaster never bothered to fake anything... He was just rightfully the king and people should respect him.

Cross frowns as he turns on his side. Ignoring the guard standing well guard outside of his cell. He tugs on the magical blocker on his arm. Making him unable to use his magic to summon any weapon or try to take control over someone elses magic again.

Well... Not like he can try that with the guard guarding him again anyway. Seeing as it is Dust guarding him...

Cross tugs on it again and Dust speaks "Don't bother. Those things can't be removed by the wearer."

Cross freezes and looks over. He thought he had been sneaky enough. The one with the panther mask stares back.

Cross frowns as he turns back to the wall.

The Knight goes quiet again.

Cross tugs on the band one more time. Just to be spiteful. Before laying back and staring at the wall.

Fuck... He is going to die here? Isn't he?

Maybe they will just starve him...

Or maybe they will first torture him to figure out who he works for.

Cross is going to have to withstand it until he dies. He can't give up Dream and the fact he is planning a revolution.

He can't ruin another revolution that could save and help so many people.

He will have to be strong. Not give in. Not even an inch.

"I apologise I took so long Dust. Thank you for keeping watch."

Cross freezes at the new but familiar voice. Cross had heard the voice before. He had seen the owner walk around and had been getting information on him.

The king.

The fucking king.

Nightmare himself!

Why was the king here?!

Sure Cross had been spying and stealing information. But was that really such a big deal to get the king himself to interrogate him?!

Then again... Shed's tail had aparently been removed and used for cat toys...

He is so dead.

A click and the door to his cell slowly creaks open.

Cross's pulse is beating so fast.

Footsteps walking closer. before the door creaks closed. and is relocked.

He is so dead.

A few more steps and then silence for a moment as Cross tries to keep his panic at bay. He regrets staring at the wall.

"I know you are awake. Speaking will be a lot easier if we face each other."

Cross keeps laying there. What does he do?! He can't ignore him. Come on Cross. Be brave. You faced down scarier threats!

'But you had magic back then.' his mind whispers 'You had a way to defend yourself.'

Still. Cross sits up and turns around. Making sure he is glaring. He is not going to give in. "What is there to tell?" His voice holds the challange. He isn't afraid. He will not give in. He is not going to give this so-called king anything!

Nightmare tilts his skull slightly. intrigue clearly. Cross doesn't like the fact that he seems just so... unbothered by Cross. Cross is the enemy! He is sitting in the cell after Nightmare's forces found him snooping around, trying to steal information.

So why is this king staring at him with just intrigued! No rage? No disgust?!

Nightmare speaks again. Seemingly taking his time to think about his answers. trying to be actually truthful? or trying to think of an answer that Cross wants to hear? Wait... Is the king already in cross's head and mind? is Cross already being tricked?

Nightmare's voice breaks him out of his spiralled thinking "I think I disagree. there is a lot to talk about."

Cross tilts his skull upwards. stubborn energy in his soul "I won't tell you anything about who send me or why. No matter what!"

Nightmare looks slightly amused "I don't exactly care about who send you or why."

... what?

Nightmare continues, at his aparently obvious confusion, as he explains "I know there are people who wish to know what I am doing. I know people are scheming against me. It is nothing new. Even a spy as yourself is nothing new." he looks amused "The fact they even send you implies they know close to nothign about me, my land or my home. Or, that they don't care about you at all."

That.. that doesn't make any sense?!

Ngihtmare nods "I do apologise you swore your loyalty to those who know nothing of the target they send you to spy on. Otherwise they would have known that I am aware of what goes on in my castle and land." he smiles "they would have known that my Knights are everywhere and good at their jobs." he shoots Cross a look "They would know that i am aware of who is suposed to work where at which moment."

Cross feels his mind lock up as the information filters in... How... how hadn't Dream known this?

Ngihtmare waves a hand casually "You are a rather inexperienced spy. Not that it matters. As there is very little any type of skill could have done against me and those of mine. Either your employers know nothing of me which means they aren't much of a threat quite yet. Or they were willing to throw you away as some sort of test against me or you. Which just makes me unimpressed with them overall."

Cross just stares at the ground.

The Knight speaks softly "Way to ruin his worldview my king."

a moment of silence before "I apologise. I shouldn't have said those things. You did not deserve to hear those or have to worry about which case is true."

Cross snaps "Why am i not dead yet?!" He had heard about the terrible punishment this parasite of a king does. How he hurts people for jsut the hell of it... From Dream... form the guards working here... It makes no sense that Cross is still alive. Unless he wants to torture him of course...

A moment of silence.

Ngihtmare speaks a bit softer but still sure and confident "You meant no harm. You were here for a few days and no one was attacked. Neither myself, my knights, my servants or my people in the city. I do not see why i would punish you with death if you did not do a crime earning such a thing."

Cross glares up "And if i had hurt someone?" So he was just doing this own test?! this is just a test. That Cross can deal with. Cross can deal with someone trying to trick and test him!

The king chuckles and shakes his skull "It is very bold of you to assume you would have been able to hurt anyone. Just because we aren't obvious you were not walking around unnoticed or unwatched. If you had made a single move to hurt someone you would have been stopped and caught right away. I must admit however if you had tried that this conversation would be going very differently."

Cross frowns, wait... "If i moved to hurt someone? Anyone?"

Nightmare nods "Of course. The people who work for me are people who's safety i take very seriously. They are willing to work for me. in trade for their servitude i make sure they have what they need and want and more importantly. That they are safe to live their lifes." He sounds so certain and the answer is instantly.

He didn't even need to think about it.

Cross's mind is swimming as he tries to focus. This makes no sense... Why is he implying that he only punishes those who deserve it? That isn't waht others said. This... this is weird. This is the weirdest interrogation he has ever been part of. But he manages to find his voice again "What do you then even want to know?" It isn't like he knows anything.

Nightmare watches him "I am curious about the Lost Kingdom."

Cross flinches as he looks away. "It isn't called lost..." it isn't lost... it isn't! His... his brother- Nine is trying so hard to fix the mess Cross left behind. the mess Cross helped cause. It may be broken and a bit of a mess but it isn't lost. Lost implies there is nothing that can be saved from it.

A soft hum before he speaks again "I apologise. It is a name i took over from others." a moment of silence "I supose I am just curious what made the most loyal of knights of that land leave the country he was working on protecting."

Cross freezes. huh?

Nightmare waits for a moment but when Cross doens't answer he continues "It doesn't make sense to me. Your every move and motivation was from trying to protect the country you served. Yet here you are. Instead of there."

Cross looks to the side. He... he had tried to protect but he failed everyone. He always failed... He made the most terrible mistake of mistakes... How could he stay? they didn't want him to stay. He didn't deserve to stay after that.

Cross looks to the side and speaks "No one wanted the loyal dog of the tyrant to stay. so i left." there.

a moment of silence. "Seems a bit of a harsh name for someone who was loyal to the country."

Cross glares "I wasn't! I just did what the old tyrant wanted!" Like an idiot who can't think for himself. He just did whatever his father told him. Too blind and too stupid to see that XGaster was hurting others.

Nightmare continues to look at him "And you believed in him to make the right choices for the country. That is the job of a king. Make sure that what is done is done to improve the land. improve the country. improve life for the people. It is not your fault that XGaster didn't honour his rule. That he did not do what he was suposed to. What he was sworn into."

Cross can't hear this. Not form sometone who is suposed to be eveil but seems to know so much. Who seems to know what it means to be king yet who isn't suposed to care. Why is this thing who is possessing an innocent acting as it he cares? How would this thing know what makes a good king?!

Cross asks him as much. "Why do you care!?" it is more of a snap than a question.

Is it... Is it Nightmare? Influencing the thing brainwashing him and controlling him? Fighting back?

Dream would be happy to hear that.

Nightmare still thinks about the question. He looks ahead of himself with a tiny frown. Seemingly thinking.

Cross however can't help that notice how blue the cyan eye is. Clearly unnatural. Toxic even... Yet calm. There is no rage hidden that Dream warned him about. No edge of insanity or madness. Just calm and insightful thoughts. Control over his mind? but that makes no sense if he is brainwashed...

The body is not at all what Cross even expected to once see. Ngihtmare had this imposing presence. The fact his form was covered with a goop that had melted over one of his sockets didn't help. The way those tentacles on his back moved and idled. Seemingly without a single thought- wait... didn't octopusses have like... brains in each tentacle. Did that mean that Nightmare had five brains working and thinking for him?

Still... The corruption is so clearly... strange. Dream had told him that the powers given by the ritual was suposed to make a king and warrior of light. Of good. This form is proof that Nightmare wasn't suposed to gain this power. It is dark and moving and changing... But Cross can't help but think it doesn't look that bad, that the name corruption doesn't quite fit. It doesn't radiate any harm in anyway. Not like that time in the hall... Is... Nightmare able to control the presence it gives off? Why wouldn't he use it now? The slight magic he can still feel is potent and strong and unlike anything Cross ever felt before... But it isn't like other poisonous magics Cross had learned about. That he had trained to recognise. It is strange...

Cross decides to focus on the clothes he is wearing. It is clearly high quality stuff. not to forget the golden accents and actual bands around the tentacles. the clips with apple motifs. the detailing of branches like swirls in the same cyan colour as that eye, just less obvious because the fabric is slightly see through.

It makes for one intimidating image. One that the king carries with confidence and familiarity.

Nightmare speaks "I care because i wish to understand. We learn by understanding others. Even if i don't agree with someone doesn't mean i don't have to understand them. In matter of fact. the only way to truly disagree and be against something is to understand or at least know about the concept. When it is about why people do certain actions it is important to learn their motives and reasons. to understand why they did what they did before casting out judgement."

Cross can't deal with him... how is this suposed evil tyrant so understanding?

He is nothing like XGaster.

Nothing at all.

Cross can see that so clearly and so easily. This is someone who knows what he is talking about and who doesn't just say what you want to hear. Cross thought he knew what he was going into. He thought he would meet a man simular to XGaster.

Someone who manipulates. Someone who lies. Someone who turns every answer into a small insult. Someone who tells you how to think and why you are an idiot for not thinkinf like that from the start. Someone who believes himself to be perfect and not capable of fault.

Cross believed his father to be rightful in being this way and thinking that way for so long. It wasn't until after the revolution Cross finally noticed the cracks in the facade.

Cross thought... he figured he would be able to see through whatever mask Ngihtmare is wearing. Metaphorical of course. But he can't... he is failing. He can't figure this out.

Is... is cross being an idiot again? is Nightmare lying to him and is Cross still just unable to see it?

Or is there no mask to see through? no mask to spot the cracks in?

What does he do?

Nightmare waits and remains quiet until Cross actually focusses on him. When he does Nightmare speaks again "I wish to know what happened there. In your home."

His home...

"It isn't my home..." not anymore...

Nightmare nods and speaks again "Then what happened to the country that you used to serve and protect. What caused the downfall?"

Cross looks to the side "A revolution obviously..."

Ngihtmare nods and waits.

Cross glares "I was an idiot and could not pick a side. I couldn't fight my brother who lead the revolution but i could also not betray my lord. I ended up trying to help both yet messed everything up." he glares at the king "I made everything worse." all because he just couldn't pick.

Ngihtmare tilts his skull "Rather extreme. Thinking just one person can make or break a revolution."

Cross blinks.

Nightmare nods calmly "I am not saying that you couldn't have made it go better. That is always an option. However. A revolution... a rebellion. It is the same thing, and it is messy. it is dangerous. One person can not make things go perfect. that is impossible."

Dust coughs lightly into his hand. The king shoots him a look but nothing else happens.

The king turns back to him "You are not responsible for everything that happened. could you have helped? Yes. But... the choice that you made also enabled you to do the few things you could. the little bits you did to help your brother. If you had picked to defend the old tyrant. You would have had to hurt others."

Cross glares down "I know i should have helped."

Ngihtmare shakes his skull "That isn't what i am saying. the point i am trying to make is. You never know what you would have done in the other two situations. You could have joined your brother. but then you would have had to fight the very people you trained and fought beside before. The same people who know you through and through. who know how you fight and move." and he looks at him. "You helping them. either side of the conflict. would have meant you would have been at a different position at any given point. The things that happened wouldn't and couldn't have happened because your actions in this... neutral choice also had consequences and effect. It meant that XGaster stationed you as a guard. if you hadn't been available he would maybe have used two others to gain the same protection you gave him. You didn't stop the revolution when they got to you. instead there would have been two guards guarding the door." And nightmare give shim a moment to let that information sink in.

Cross stops... he... hadn't thought about... all he could think about is how he could have made things different. Thinking about how his skills could have helped specific moments... he hadn't considered that... him helping them from the start would have chanced everything...

and the moment where he could have helped... may never have even happened.

Cross shakes his skull "Things would have been better if i had picked a side."

The king considers it "Maybe it would have. Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe by not picking a side you were able to do enough damage control for both sides that enabled it to even be successful. Maybe not picking a side made it last longer. You can not know which choice would ahve been better as you never saw the options."

Cross isn't sure what is even going on anymore. He had believed... He had been sure that him not making a choice just made everythign worse. Everyone agreed. Everyone must have agreed or else they wouldn't have made sure to remind him about his mistake each moment they could...

right?

Nightmare nods before getting up. Cross only now notices that Nightmare had been using his own tentacles as a chair "But I think I have pushed you too far already with my questions. You need rest and time to process and calm down. Food will be brought to you later." he turns towards the cell door and exits.

The king nods to the guard and starts to walk away.

Wait...

Wait!

Cross jumps up and rushes to the bars "Wait!"

The king stops and turns back to him "yes?" and he waits.

Cross pants "You said... Way before... at the start... There had been others like me. other spies. Where are they now?" Dream said others had been send before right? Or maybe even other forces. That Nightmare killed them?

Nightmare tilts his skull "My knights or I myself spoke to them. Much like I am doing wiht you. Those who meant no harm and held no wish to hurt those here... They were offered a change of scenery. They mentioned they couldn't and didn't want to return a failure to their old leaders. There is always room and a need for people willing to work and help."

Cross frowns "And those who did wish to return home?"

Nightmare looks unbothered "After making sure they were no threat they were released at the border. With a warning to not return. Once is an happening after all, one people can learn from. However if it turns out they lied or wished to return to do harm after all they were punished for their crimes."

Cross looks down as his mind spins "Oh..."

Nightmare waits for a moment longer before nodding "Rest up. I will come back either tomorrow or the day after to continue our conversation." he turns and leaves.

Cross slowly lets go of the bars and goes back to the bed in the cell... He can't help but notice that it is actually rather comfortable here.

Sure there are bars and he is locked in and unable to use magic...

But there is fresh air. Some natural sunlight comes in through the barred windows. It isn't cold or wet. There are warm blankets and soft places to sit...

Even if it is a jailcell. It is comfortable at least.

Cross rolls back up on the bed and thinks.

His mind going over the past conversation and thinking about what he learned. For it having been suposed to be a way for the king to learn about Cross it was just Cross learning about Nightmare.

What had the king even wanted to learn? All Cross told him was how he thought about things and experienced it. Not even how the revolution happened or what events took place.

If Nightmare had wished to know those it would make sense. Then it would gain Nightmare insight to how the revolution managed to be successfull and what to defend against.

And yet...

and yet...

He didn't. All Nightmare wished to know was what Cross did.

It doesn't make sense.

None of it does.

It doesn't take long but eventually a maid comes along. a human and she bows in respect to the Knight before turning towards Cross with a smile "Hello there. I brought you some food. It are roasted potatoes and a salad." she puts it on the little opening to push it into his cell "Once you are done please place it back in this same area. Makes us able to clean it up which will leave your area a bit cleaner!" she smiles happily before nodding once she sees Cross paying her attention.

After that she turns away, bows to the Knight again,before leaving.

Cross makes his way to the food slowly but the Knight standing guard doesn't make a single move to take or mess with it.

Cross grabs his food and takes a seat on his bed again. He eats it slowly and feels his hand shake once he realises it is actually good.

It is taste and warm and filled with nutrients.

Why are they treating him so nicely?

Cross just... doesn't get it...

Maybe he can ask the next time Nightmare comes to him to talk?

Maybe he can get some answers after all...

*------------------------*

In case you guys don't get the title name. It is a joke. Because Cross is being interrogated but it is more a mutual Q&A...

I will leave now.

[th3d0nutl0rd]

I've finally found someone else who likes Devereaux from Renegade Nell 😭😭 I adored your headcanons for him, please don't let that be all 🙏🙏🙏

Oh my gosh my prayers have been answered, I have been having a lot of thoughts about him recently 🙏🙏

What if his engagement to Eularia was not of his own volition- what if his father's gambling landed them in a tough spot financially, which resulted in him marrying his son to a wealthy older woman like Eularia against his will 🥲 it's sad to think about but would make sense in the given context

Alternatively, maybe he really is just the sober Jack Sparrow type- he'll flirt with anyone if it can get him out of a bad situation. So if the first one was a bit too depressing for you, you can always think of it this way too.

Early in the show he mentions the growing industries in the Americas (as we know now many of these would end up being Plantations) but he did mention hemp. If you haven't looked into it before, the hemp industry in America from the mid 1600s-1700s is really interesting, and it's funny to think of him as someone who wants to potentially oversee it (I believe it was popular amongst British mariners and had several different uses less common to us now than at the time)

Imagine him, based in America, exploiting British mariners with hemp... Amazing...

Also I'm British, and study history at college so I can tell you that if you were to insert yourself into this universe it's entirely plausible that y/n would be able to grow up alongside Devereux even as a pauper, let me explain why-

In the 1700s, many poor children or ones who came from lower middle class families (who had titles, but not money) would be educated by local families who were rich, and would pay off their student debt by working in that family's trade

For example if that family were blacksmithing business you might spend a summer in their forge- if they were fishermen you might spend time on their boats. Meaning Charles could've been educated alongside you! Whoo! Perfect setup for a childhood friends type storyline.

Magic tricks! We got to see him do some during the show, and I think it would be so cute to have him show you his favourite tricks, maybe sat huddled in a room at night whispering to each other like giddy teenagers while he shows you some new trick he learned

Leading into this, I also love his general giddiness and excitement as a character. He loves an adventure. He's always got a smile on his face. He's good with kids- we saw it with George. What a sweet guy 😭❤️

OH MY GOD AND THE DANCING!!! LET'S NOT FORGET THE DANCING!!! I have so many thoughts about his dancing I'm probably gonna make a separate post about it so please tell me if that's something you'd like to see

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

One thing I don't understand is why they took time to build up Aemond in part 1, with its complexity and ambition. And then ss2 turned him into a villain so quickly? And why did they choose Aegon to be the one who suffered cruel treatment from family members to gain viewers' sympathy, while they turned him into a rapist in ss1? The sudden change in the approach of the two characters in ss2 left me scratching my head.

Good day/night!

IMO the reasons for it are the same ones I mentioned in this post (I hope you don't mind if I quote it, here and below):

"... IMO we need to take into account two things: 1) HotD writers apparently have received a commission to create a show with a clear as day feminist agenda to regain the audience's favor lost after Daenerys business in S8 of GoT; 2) the most important - they are fucking incompetent, and so they could ruin the characters they "love" just as effortlessly as they do with those they "hate" (sometimes they even fail with the latter - because they are kind of supposed to ruin them but, once again, are incompetent)".

On the one hand, the goal there was to make the show as popular and as appealing to the audience (including general audience, of course) as possible; on the other hand, it was supposed to be done in a certain way.

On no account was a TG character (i.e. the one from anti-feminist side), and a male one at that, supposed to become (or to end up, at least) as an absolute fan favourite. It is not a secret that after season 1 Aemond's popularity reached nearly cosmic levels (according to some surveys, he was the third among the best-liked characters, after Rhaenyra and Daemon - and not that far from them) after the little screen time he had. Imagine what could have been if Aemond got proper development and was presented as a complex, well written character with amount of screen time that he was due as one of the main characters of season 2. There would be a risk of him overshadowing Daemon or even the one true heroine - Rhaenyra. The HotD team couldn't have that - so they reduced Aemond's screen time to bare minimum. As for him becoming a villain, here I go back to the post mentioned above:

"... I really don't know whether Condal and the rest of HotD team are ruining Aemond on purpose - or are just trying to legit create a compelling arc for him by presenting him as a bullied kid with a fuckton of issues who one day just snapped and fully went into a psycho killer mode. Both options are possible - and actually both of them might be true because (and here goes yet another HotD problem) it really feels like the writers who work on the show have trouble communicating and coordinating their ideas. One pushes for one thing, another - for another, and as a result we have characters who act like they get a personality/brain transplant every episode (Daemon and Alicent in S1 are the prime examples of that)".

As for Aegon, the way writers go about his development is (or has turned out to be) quite messy as well. In season 1, he was made a canonical rapist (and the writers just had to know that such a character won't be received well by the audience) - yet Sara Hess tried to explain how it was because Aegon just never knew what consent was. In season 2 he is being presented as a dumb, reckless boy - but one deeply unhappy and in constant suffering. It's like the audience is supposed to roll their eyes at his poor decisions but also to pity him. And it seems to work exactly like that! Why did they do it? My guess is that HBO people want to improve their chances at the Emmys - and characters like Aegon are just the right material for it. Exploitation? Absolutely. But thanks to that, at least Tom was given a chance to actually demonstrate his talent. And at the same time, once again, a Green character can't be better that the Blacks in everything, right? So show!Aegon is being dumbed down and forced to make some questionable decisions (but still manages to have the most consistent character arc out of all the Greens - which says something about the writing level for this season).

P.S. A little off topic: the thing is that the sympathies towards Aegon from the audience might prove stronger than the writers predicted (actually, from what I've seen for the past week, the same goes for Aemond - he is not hated nearly as much as could have been expected, at least for now). And I think the actors are to thank for that: Tom has been absolutely smashing it this season (his Aegon really is a livewire) and Ewan manages to save every second of screen time he gets to remind the audience via his microexpressions and scene presence why so many people were enchanted by Aemond in the first place. Legends.

[juminhandfs]

June's route season 1 spoilers under the cut!

I just remembered when Jumin was making fun of Zen claiming he had an imaginary friend as an adult, and then he said "I used to have an imaginary friend, when I was 7"

Now, in June's route it is revealed that Jumin's mother had June out of wedlock when Jumin was only 4, so Jumin and June are only 3 years apart.

Coincidentally the whole thing exploited when Jumin was 7 years old so if we take Jumin's words for truth and not just a joke, we have 2 possibilities:

1) One is that Jumin really had an imaginary friend, maybe as a way of coping with his mother's affair and learning he had a hidden brother (without mention all the time he spent locked in the basement)

2) And the other more fucked up is that Carolyn had Jumin and June meet frequently because she was too busy meeting her lover (who had to bring June along because he is dirty poor) and regarding June's existence to Jumin as a product of his imagination (and fucking up his psych more in the process). Like maybe Jumin saw June one of those times when he escaped from the basement, or maybe Carolyn was shameless enough to bring Jumin to her lover's house and Jumin saw June there. Maybe Jumin mentioned the boy he saw at dinner and Carolyn insisted he was an imaginary friend in front of the Chairman...

(damn! Maybe Jumin was the reason why the Chairman discovered Carolyn's affair! We learn that the blow of discovering Carolyn's affair was so big to the Chairman they abandoned the house where they lived with her. In one phone call Jumin mentions children going against their mother as something bad, so maybe there's something guilt from Jumin towards his mother there (totally misplaced I know, but kids tend to blame themselves for their parents splitting up, sadly it is very common).

And... We actually have a photo from both Jumin and June with Carolyn when Jumin was 7

At first I thought the Chairman left Carolyn after discovering what she did to Jumin (and Jumin's guilt coming from there) but it's revealed the reason for the divorce was indeed Carolyn's affair (and June). In the dlc it seemed the only measure Chairman took was to diminish Carolyn's influence on Jumin, send both to therapy (Jumin to the island too) and to treat Jumin more like a kid and less as a little businessman. His incursion on toys for kids seems to come from here, as well as the story Jumin tells about Christmas where the Chairman tried to maintain the fantasy of the existence of Santa Claus. You can see this change of approach in how to raise Jumin in his wardrobe:

What is missing between these photos (Jumin age 5 and Jumin age 7) is Jumin being sent to the island at 6 for a whole year! (A time Jumin remembers fondly) So I'm guessing it's between these pictures that the Chairman discovered something bad was going on with Jumin, and that his mother was the cause of it (thought how far he went in his finding is a mystery, the only clue we have is Jumin's doctor opinion of her)

Which... Btw the good doctor was replaced with Dr. Malpractice's father... So maybe the Chairman didn't want to keep listening... Maybe... Carolyn was behind the replacement (as she is a friend of this family) maybe...

Luckily he remains as Jumin's physician but Carolyn wants to replace him with Dr. Malpractice too...so...

[misterbitches]

There are footnotes and links in this post that I think are valuable. All of these things are extremely worth reading. This is long.

Forgive me (sike idc) for injecting my ancommie art brain but: I don’t know who needs to hear it but castigating Jack as some monster instead of a kid from the fucking slums who is “stuck” in some sort of (supposed nebulous referent-less) cycle that cannot be solved as opposed to purposefully kept there by imperial colonial [racial] capitalist exploitation⁰ with some pretty difficult but clear¹ possibilities for struggle and understood solutions is a limit on our imagining of a future and want for change as well as just sullying this story (outside of critiquing the work itself) for you. I don't know why we are glossing over the fact that you have to pay to live and also global determinants of health.

Why do the poor the world over have such low quality of health and life and therefore die first? Why are they overwhelmingly black and the darker peoples of the world? The colonized or subjugated? When did we move from the right to life and health to the right to coverage or being able to afford it?²

Is it not interesting that Joke's father is a doctor and his livelihood is linked with this system? Do you think that, maybe, how the father is and his job show a congruency? Why do individuals have to go above a system and yet are still invested in this system? And since Joke was a part of this nuclear family then ousted when he dared to transgress its rule—the unit based off of generating labor and necessary for one's survival since it is the only safe financial place to land and rely on—is it not significant that he isn't acknowledged by that father over things that could save someone? I'm super tired so I'm not making as much sense as I'd like. To quote from this comprehensive piece³ on Health Communism: A Surplus Manifesto by Beatrice Adler-Bolton and Artie Vierkant:

“Illness—you point out—is the only possible form of life in capitalism. In fact, the psychiatrist, who is wage dependent, is a sick person like each of us. The ruling classes merely give him the power to “cure” or to hospitalize. Cure—this is self-evident—can’t be understood in our system to mean the elimination of illness: it serves exclusively as the maintenance of the ability to go to work where one stays sick.” (Turn Illness into a Weapon: A Polemic Call to Action by the SPK, 1972)³

Joke comes from a family with money. They aren't super rich but they have what Jack (and now Joke!) doesn't. His father is in a position where he could throw rules out the window to help his son's friend even if that has consequences. Ostensibly had Joke not done what he did, Joke would always have access to decent healthcare or money. Or he would have gotten a job that would allow him to have it or afford it. He also would lead a life where his health is most likely going to be optimal. (A bit of a stretch since we are still in a pandemic and the globe is dying and they live in a place where people are affected by MAN MADE CAPITALIST climate disaster and racist ecocide that is going to primarily affect those in rural areas and people are fucking sick but I digressss) What kind of air are these people breathing? What's in these pills? Why is there no sustained contact with health professionals (that don't suck—also a thing)? Why are we so okay with elderly alienation and their death? Poor death?

This captures several major themes of the book, namely, the impossibility of health under capitalism; the potential of solidarity between physicians and patients, despite the power dynamics that otherwise separate them; and the need to turn illness into a weapon to dismantle capitalism itself. Adler-Bolton and Vierkant write: “Health under capitalism is an impossibility. Under capitalism, to attain health you must work, you must be productive and normative, and only then are you entitled to the health you can buy. This fantasy of individual health under the political-economic conditions of capitalism only ever exists as a state one cannot be, to which one must always strive. [SPK] called this cultural imaginary of health a “biological, fascist fantasy” because it obscures the true and violent architecture of economic systems of extraction underneath the shadow of a capitalist-realist depiction of the perfect worker.” (pp. 10-11) ³ (x)

So with all this known why the fuck are people so goddamn angry at Jack? And for Tattoo too. I didn't really touch on this in all this text but my main point is that it's interesting that we don't know what we're mad at beyond a betrayal when for the both of these men they "betrayed" the rich boy. In Save's case he betrayed the poor ones, his comrades, the ones who are suffering like him. My anger towards him is much greater but I still get it. (To be clear: I am angry at him and it is even worse because it isn't directed at anyone but the poor. His friend's grandmother. And it's a tale as old as time. If he wasn't such a little bitch he would be able to withstand it but he isn't. If I think even harder I wonder if this signal's the closer one is to these types of people, the more they suture themselves to capital out of survival, the more they believe they will be protected by heinous acts but I am tired lol.)

They're all poor boys from the fucking slums but our main concern is Joke, the rich-ish boy—who is right btw cos we love robbing the rich yet still his old class position and upbringing very clearly influences how we view him and his agency. It is done to him like with Arun and the necklace—a gay boy with an abusive father—and Rosé—a woman with an abusive father(?)—and her life. They are entitled to these sympathies first!

The formatting bugs me so I'm gonna reblog the rest.

Footnotes:

⁰This is "H.L.T. Quan on Cedric Robinson, Racial Capitalism, Black Internationalism, & Cultures of Resistance" on Millenials are Killing Capitalism. "Cedric’s point is that Marx and Engels missed the significance of revolt in the rest of the world, specifically by non-Western peoples who made up the vast majority of the world’s unfree and nonindustrial labor force." (Essay from Robin D.G. Kelley's foreword to the third updated edition of Cedric Robinson's Black Marxism.) I haven't read BM yet BTW but I know a lot about it and it has influenced black anarcho-communism (black anarchism), our traditions, what revolt should require, INTERNATIONAL RADICAL SOLIDARITY, and our development. Robinson was also, like many radical intellectuals, an artist and art critic! I think it's important to put here particularly because Thailand wasn't colonized so the conception of the nation is different though not out of step with colonized history at all. Obviously. Which is answered to here and elucidated here as it seems Bangkok acts as an imperial core. It’s too easy to take them out of that history is what I’m garnering from this. I don't know how much of this is enough and I can only go by the knowledge I have gained in reading and being in these spaces because to get information on radical left in Thailand (or many parts of asia) is fucking hard and even the man I'm referencing doesn't support armed struggle currently apparently! I'll continue to research. But we have been so cut off from each other and radical thought esp from an American standpoint it's fucking pathetic. This is why I say understanding art and being critical is important. In a better world this would be an OBVIOUS articulation and revealing where people wouldn't get upset over someone like Jack just because he isn't fucking a boy on our timeline. ¹ “1968 and the “Thai Seventies" – 14th October 1973 uprising, 6 October 1976 bloodbath and after” by Giles Ji Ungpakorn who also wrote "Down with Thai Capitalism! The People Against the Military Dictatorship!" in Spectre as a response to Thiti Jamkajornkeiat ²"SPHC matched the general shift in high level development planning to technical solutions and privatisation of public services, and from the comprehensive vision of Health for All to survival rates. The health care reform that was then promoted by the evolving global health governance structure, as a subset of conservative neoliberal economic policies, gave rise to the privatisation and commercialisation of health care—from Health for All to health care that people could aford. There was a concomitant reduction in government health spending in many low-and middle-income countries with increasing dependence on multiple international donors and the reduced ability of countries to determine their own health agendas." Conclusion from Health Policies and Health Care in the Context of Neoliberal Globalisation. ³Health Communism — All Care For All People (Part 1) also read alongside this "review by Evan Sedgwick-Jell for Asylum magazine and this Q&A of Beatrice Adler-Bolton and Artie Vierkant by the New Republic." You can find the HC book online (pirateflagemoji) and/or buy it.