#like he’s such a hypocrite and the worst part is he’s so aware that he’s a hypocrite and yet continues to be one anyway

[pmpknsoup]

i actually am a defender of georgie and melanie and basira being mean or rude to jon bc that man really needed to be put in his place sometimes. like i understand that they were also wrong sometimes— basira is hypocritical and the other two could be nastier than necessary, but i literally cannot blame them at all. jon was so out of line sometimes

[acethetically-bway]

starting a sean pierce hate campaign who’s with me??

[timmydraker]

CW: abortion/misscariage talk

Tim finding out that he really, legitimately, was an unwanted child.

It all comes to light when he’s looking through his old medical records after loosing his spleen. He wanted to check that there were no allergies he had other than shrimp and then looked into his family. Of certain cancers or disease were common in his linage, he needed to be aware so he could lessen the risk as much as possible.

That’s when he discovers that his mother, proud !feminist’ and independent woman that she was, had refused several surgeries to remove her uterus or have her tubes tied but still had several abortions.

And by several, the papers literally mean several.

Seven whole abortions of children she didn’t want, yet both her and Jack refused to do anything to jsut… prevent any pregnancy in the first place.

They got it all covered with hush money so it wouldn’t get out to the public, but they ended up making a mistake.

Janet Drake went to a Gala when she was unknowingly pregnant and a woman, whose husband was the owner of a prominent news paper company, noticed several signs that Janet was with child. She pointed this out to Janet and when she saw the look of familiar realisation on her face, promised to keep it secret.

Just a day later an article was shown with a photo of Janet with a barely there bump and just like that, Jack and Janet were forced to keep their baby.

Maybe if they hadn’t made several public statements about being against abortion it wouldn’t have mattered, but hypocrites rarely win.

Tim finds several statements by doctors in their files, hidden away behind several fake files and private stamps, that show the couple had tried to figure out a way to ‘remove’ the child before it was born so it wouldn’t be a problem.

Tim even goes so far as to look at his parents search history around the time and sees in horror as it goes from searches on how to force a miscarriage to the financial benefits of a child.

That’s where Alfred finds him, frozen and staring at his screen with enough tears to make a puddle on his desk.

The worst part?

He’s not even that surprised.

[hazbinwhoree]

BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.

i am in desperate need. of adam smut.

NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:

usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking

likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)

touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)

pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)

I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY

Adam’s Sinner

Part 1/3 Part 2

A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut

Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.

The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.

(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s up, sugar tits?”

(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.

“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”

(Name) had no answer.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked.

“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”

He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.

Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.

A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.

“Sup.”

(Name) jumped. “Adam!”

“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.

“Bitch why?”

“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”

“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”

“How?”

Adam was quiet.

“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”

“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”

“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”

Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.

He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.

“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.

“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.

“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”

Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”

Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.

Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.

“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”

(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.

Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.

Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.

He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”

He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.

They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.

He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.

Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.

He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.

Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”

Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.

They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.

“Promise.”

[flowercrowngods]

based on an idea i had about steve getting a bad migraine from the sudden bloodloss after kas feeds from him

post-canon, steddie don't like each other, hermit kas, depressed brain injury steve, kinda gloomy, anxiety & compulsions

Steve cuts the engine with a sigh, feeling heavy and alien, like a lone survivor in a ghost town. He’s not a lone survivor, and Hawkins isn’t technically a ghost town because there’s still enough of them here to build it back up or to watch it crumble and cave in on itself, front row seats to the fourth wave of destruction. 

Maybe the real ghost is Steve, actually, floating through his days just waiting for his brain to decide it’s had enough. Just waiting for the perpetual ringing in his ears to rise in pitch and frequency and for his skull to fucking crack open from the never ending waves of the never ending buzz.

Robin asks him about it a lot, notices how he will stop and listen to his body on every inhale that feels slightly wrong, or every movement that’s just a little too fast or just a little too sudden, the blood rushing into his head or out of it, the doctor’s words ringing in tune with the tinnitus: You watch that head of yours, young man, and do not hesitate to call emergency services when the headache won’t stop after a few hours, or when anything feels off, you hear me? 

The truth is, he barely heard him then. Blood was roaring in his ears, the tinnitus still quiet, but his hearing still dull from impact and screams and shock wave after shock wave of the world sewing itself back together. 

He sighs again, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel and trying to catch his breath. Taking stock of his head, the heartbeat he can only feel in his hands right now and nowhere near his temples, and the quiet little tap tap tap of his finger nails hitting the leather, wanting to make sure he can hear it. Wanting to make sure he doesn’t imagine the sound. 

Always fucking needing to make sure. 

Soon, he breathes a little steadier, convincing himself that getting out of the car won’t be the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s so stupid, too, that fear, all that anxiety living inside him just waiting to boil and spill over until he does something stupid just to spite it.

The cool breeze hits his face, working in tandem with his calming breaths to alleviate his obsessive thought spirals, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he does nothing but breathe for a minute there. 

He’s up. He’s standing. He can walk through the forest to the vamp’s hiding place, it’s fine. It’s fine. Although standing so suddenly makes him aware that he hasn’t eaten much today, too busy hating everything about this town and helping to rebuild it anyway. 

Forgetting to eat and drink is another thing that’s new to him. There’s quite a few things he forgets a lot, but those are the worst. Robin is always on his ass about that, but at some point he stopped telling her. It feels like he’s stopped telling her a lot of things. Maybe that’s something else that comes with severe brain injury, young man. 

He feels plenty guilty about it at least — but not enough to tell her about all the horrible things that are happening to him, or the horrible things he thinks are happening to him. The Upside Down is gone, Vecna is dead. These bad thoughts, they’re all him. But knowing that doesn’t fucking help.

Pushing away from the car and turning around to lock it, Steve decides to wallow in self pity no longer and to just get on with it. As much as he hates it. As much as part of him wants to just go home and claim that he forgot about that, too. 

It’s no secret that Steve never liked Eddie. The boy’s a hypocrite, he’s loud, he’s annoying, and he just likes to shame people as publicly as possible, spitting proclamations of conformity and sticking it to the Man while at the same time turning anarchy into despotism under the guise of rebellion — and he’s the dictator. 

Or, he was. And Steve never cared about him or his larger than life attitude that was worse than any of the smiles Steve ever wore to fit in in high school. Steve mostly ever just wanted Munson to shut up and eat his lunch, stop pretending he’s better than any of them just because he liked different things.

Although it wasn’t even about liking other things, it was only ever about disliking. And shaming and denouncing. Steve always wondered what kind of a miserable life that dude must have lived, shaping himself not from what he liked but from what he hated. Creating an identity that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because it was so fragile and contradictory and, frankly, so fucking annoying. 

Still, he’d never wished for Munson to get involved in all of this. He’d never wished for the man to die. And then to come back only to be turned into some kind of vampire, doomed to live an even worse existence than he did as a human, hidden away in some shabby cabin. 

Steve feels a little bad for him now. For Eddie. Or Kas, as the kids like to call him because he never reacts to his name anymore, more monster than human these days, although Dustin is sure they can domesticate him into becoming his old self again. 

“Like Dart, remember?”

“Dude, don’t compare our friend to your sick little creature.” That was Lucas, affronted and annoyed. Steve could relate, although… 

“You gotta admit, he’s kind of a sick little creature himself now.” 

“Steve!” they’d both yelled, and Steve just playfully shoved their heads back before going to grab a coke from the fridge.

And Kas, because vampires are apparently a thing even after the end of the world, needs blood to survive. The forests are void of animals most of the time, like nature has decided to give Hawkins an ultimatum before returning and the day hasn’t come yet. Maybe it’s something to do with electromagnetic fields, or maybe it was something else entirely leading them all to safety while Hawkins was turned into a war zone. Either way, there is nothing for him to feed here. 

Kas can’t just stalk around the woods at night and drink up a deer or two. Nor can he go rob the blood bank at the hospital, they’re running low as it is anyway. That left them all with only one option that Mike so disgustedly pointed out back then: Kas needs their blood. And Steve feels just bad enough for him to play along. 

So now he is out here playing blood bank for the monstrous version of a guy he never even liked, and his hometown is in shambles, and his head might actually sign the fuck off at any moment now, apparently. 

Things are going great. 

Saving the world is just… really fucking isolating. 

Still he has no choice but to announce his presence with a firm knock on the door, the pattern easy but memorable. 

“This is Steve,” he adds as his hand falls to his side, waiting. 

Kas always takes a while to come out and open the door, hiding away from any noise like a feral cat. Steve can kind of relate — he and Kas don’t have the best relationship either. He has no idea how sudden vampirism works, but just like feral cats will be able to tell when someone wants to hurt them and when instincts should be kicking in, Kas seems to realise how little Steve wants to be here and help him. How little he wants to have his blood sucked out of his body leaving his limbs to feel numb and uncomfortably tingly. 

Eventually, though, the door opens with a creek, just enough for a pair of eyes — too large, too wide, too wild — blink back at him. Steve just lifts his eyebrows, really kind of not in the mood to deal with this barely human vampire and his absolute lack of learning curve about this situation.

When he’s sure Kas has blinked at him for long enough now, he pushes open the door and shoves inside rather roughly, immediately feeling bad when he hears the slight whimper. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets again and trying not to grimace at the stale, disgusting air in the cabin. “Jeez, you really gotta open a window every once in a while. Thought vamps were supposed to have heightened senses or some shit.” 

Kas growls at him, mirroring Steve’s move and shoving past him this time, his shoulder slamming into Steve’s with painful strength. Glowering at the stupid vampire, he rubs at his shoulder before crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Listen, buddy, I can just leave and have you deal with your hunger, okay? No big deal for me, I even get to keep my blood.” 

Kas snaps at him, showing his fangs and crossing his arms, too; a laughable copy of Steve’s own stance. 

“Or you could just cut the crap and get on with it so I actually can leave again without taking shit from the peanut gallery. Your choice.” 

The huff that follows is so indignant, Steve wonders if that could be what gets Kas out of Munson’s body and let the human win over the monster. Maybe indignation and annoyance is what will break the spell eventually, lift the curse just enough for Munson to get back into his old habit of monologising and spouting nonsense out of that big mouth of his. 

Steve is half tempted to try, but he really does want to just go home and lie on his large couch with no sensory input whatsoever, tuning out the world and his anxieties that might be about to turn into compulsions just for him to gain a little control over everything again. So he squares his shoulders and takes off his jacket before tilting his head to the side, allowing Kas full access to his neck. 

It’s always a little scary but still oddly fascinating, filling him with that same rush that came with witnessing all the supernatural shit over the past few years. Kas is the last remnant of all that, and somehow, buried beneath piles of rubble and trauma and the teenager he had to give up on being, Steve feels weirdly protective of that. 

Not of Eddie. Of Kas. Of the monster that lies dormant. Of the last bit of danger in his life, because he doesn’t know how to live without it anymore — so much so that he has to make it up.

Maybe it’s a symptom of his self destructive tendencies, as Robin would call it. But Steve might be as fascinated with the vampire as Robin is with fire; so she doesn’t get to have a say in this.

There is always a strange intimacy in the way Kas approaches him. Slowly, carefully. Like a hunter his prey. Steve doesn’t feel like prey, not really, but a part of him wants to. A part of him needs to be prey again, if only for those instincts that manifest with a perpetual tremor and a restless feeling in his chest to be of use again. If only so he can have a point again. Something to fight that’s outside oh his own head. 

Now, his point is standing still entirely and feeling those chapped but warm lips trail up and down his throat a little before Kas finds the right spot that won’t really hurt Steve, the right spot that will make it all go by quickly and without any hiccups. 

Still he shivers, like always, and Kas holds him close when he finally bites down. Like always. 

He stands motionless as he feels his blood flow alternating, rushing in his ears and his head, his heart thump-thump-thumping, putting up a fight against the strange intrusion. He hardly even breathes at all, focusing instead on his body and burying his finger nails in his palm for five seconds before releasing his hands and repeating the process three times before he gets it right. 

But then his head is pulsing, his heartbeat slowing down as his vision briefly blacks out in the same way it does when he gets up too quickly, and his heart falls. It’s too much. Too sudden. 

“Kas,” he says, but the vampire doesn’t hear him, drinking more and more of the blood that must be so thick with how little he’s had to drink today — something he only just remembered. “Kas,” he says again, more urgently this time; but still the vampire drinks. 

And where before Steve had a clear vision of the door in the dark room — the light of day streaming in through the cracks and framing it almost mystically —, it’s spotty now. Just slightly off. Like something is missing but his brain is working overtime to complete the picture anyway, reducing the blind spot to merely an illusion. But Steve knows what’s happening. He knows what the sudden pulsating of his head means, especially when it’s followed by his vision just going AWOL on him.

No, he thinks as the situation really settles in, and he begins to push Kas away. Not like it matters anyway now; the damage is done. No, no, no, no, fuck! 

He frantically shoves at the vampire now, blinking against the blind spot even though he’s painfully aware it won’t help. Kas breaks away from him, wiping his mouth and smearing his face and the back of his hand with Steve’s blood. If he looks just right, he can’t even fucking see it. 

Heart falling further, Steve buries his hands in his hair and pulls, hoping that by some kind of miracle he can just pull the migraine out of his head before it can really settle. It’s his only chance. He can’t drive like this, he shouldn’t walk like this, and soon he won’t be able to do anything at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” be hisses, hearing the edge of desperation in his own voice and caring very little about that right now. 

Kas is on him again in a second, and Steve waves him off, tries to shove him away but the vampire is stronger and persistent. 

A high keening sound builds in Kas’s chest, and Steve knows he doesn’t really speak, doesn’t really use his words, ever — maybe he doesn’t know how. But the keening sounds more like a whine, and the way he pulls at Steve to look at him is as much an indicator of worry as he’s going to get.

But Steve doesn’t want Kas’s hands on him, wants to just get out and away before the pain comes. So he takes another step back and holds up his hands, hoping that the vampire will just fucking take a hint. 

A little too quickly and a little too frantic, Steve shakes his head, his eyes flitting about the room to see if there’s still pieces of it missing or if phase two is about to start. He has about twenty minutes left before his body will be composed of nothing but skull-splitting pain that is only equal to someone ramming actual nails into his head — and even that would be preferable right noe, because at least that pain he wouldn’t need to explain. Or justify.

Another keening sound interrupts Steve's burgeoning spiral, and his eyes land on Kas, who really looks like a kicked puppy right now. 

"I gotta go," he says, voice a little unsteady with apprehension and panic, but just as he's about to rush out of the cabin, Kas crosses his path and won't let him move. 

A strong hand lands on his chest, and Steve really, really doesn't want to deal with that right now. He tries again, tries with more force to sidestep and push past him, but Kas won't let him budge. 

"Let me go." But Kas doesn't let up. "Kas. Please. You gotta let me go, I gotta get home, I—“ 

The first flash of white in his peripheral vision catches him off guard, moving his focus away from the clawed hand on his chest and toward the flickering line that cuts through the left side of his vision right now. 

Curious or worried or maybe just really fucking stupefied at having Steve act so weirdly, Kas inclines his head and ducks to catch Steve's eyes. 

"Move," Steve says again, as assertive as he can manage with his brain and body scattered between following the flickering lights that are invisible to everyone else and the pain that is about to consume him, leaving him incapacitated for several hours at least.

Instead of moving out of Steve's space and allowing him to leave, Kas shoves him backwards with that superhuman strength he has now, forcing Steve to stumble back helplessly. Fear rises in him again, and it's a different flavour this time that mixes horribly well with the anxiety and apprehension and all the waves and waves of blinding panic he feels out of nowhere almost all the time now. 

His knees buckle when they hit something rather violently, and then he's falling, landing on the worn couch with a breathless gasp, his instincts running wild. He needs to fight, he needs to run, he needs to get home and be safe and get the fuck away from this monster who won't let him go now. Steve doesn't know Kas as someone who will just take what he wants, but, well, he is Munson, in a way. So that tracks. 

But instead of attacking him, instead of going for his neck again and sucking the rest of his blood, instead of beating Steve to a pulp to keep him pliant and unmoving and turn him into some sort of personal livestock, Kas just... sits down next to him. Hands in his lap. Worried look trained on Steve, who needs to catch his breath and calm down.

"Hurt." 

It startles Steve. Kas has never spoken to him. But what’s more, Steve shouldn't be that obvious. He doesn't want to be that obvious, especially about hurting and being hurt. 

So he shakes his head, his hands coming up to press into his eyes, hoping to get rid of the flickering lights even though he knows that once they stop, the pain will come; and it will come badly. 

"'M not hurt," he says, lying through his teeth and the heel of his hand. "I just gotta go home." 

"Hurt," Kas says again, and it's more assertive this time, less of a question. Like he's telling Steve rather than asking. Like he's making him understand. 

He reminds Steve a little of Robin in that regard, and he almost has to smile. He would, too, if he wasn't so aware that it would become a horrible grimace, wavering and pale even by vampire hermit standards. 

So he sighs instead, letting his hands fall into his lap and wringing his fingers. There are about ten, maybe fifteen minutes left. Not enough to get anywhere safe on foot, and he sure as hell ain't driving when his vision is halfway through its rendition of a TV without signal, zig-zagging in white and red and green, flickering and flaring and leaving him a little disoriented even when all he's doing is sitting on that dusty old couch. 

"Hurt," Kas repeats for the third time, and Steve tenses, ready to snap at him to shut up, that he's not hurt yet but will be any minute now and that Kas should really just shut the fuck up and leave himself if he won't let Steve go anywhere. 

But looking at those wide eyes, he doesn't snap. He deflates. His shoulders fall and his eyes close, which only makes the flickers worse, he feels.

“I’m… I’m gonna have a migraine," he sighs, letting that hang in the air between them, letting the words take up the whole room and suffocate him while he knows that they won't touch Kas. That he won't understand. Nobody does. 

It's just a headache, Steve, get over it. 

They leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and he's just waiting for the huff to come. 

But it doesn't come. Instead, Kas just keeps looking at him; same worried expression, same unobtrusive posture, same everything. Right. He probably doesn't know jackshit about what that's supposed to mean. 

So Steve explains. “I, well. I kinda can't really see right now, but that'll pass. That's when the pain comes. I won't want to move. No light. No noise. No nothing. And all I can do about it is wait it out, which is why I need you to let me leave..." 

It's one of those moments where he hates that he's the only one of their group with a license; that he can't just radio with a code red and have someone come get him no questions asked. 

"I just wanna go home, man," he sighs, hating his voice for the weak whine around the edges. 

A beat passes between them, and Steve pretends like he's not counting the seconds. Like he doesn't notice that the flickering zigzag line is getting smaller and dimmer, and that agony is imminent. 

"Here," Kas says then, and somehow it's both an offer and a command. "You. Here."

Steve blinks, the words not really translating through the tired fog of his brain. 

"Huh? Sorry, uh, what?" 

"You," Kas says, shuffling closer to him, like that sort of helps him translate what it is he wants to say. 

"Me." 

Kas nods, then motions around the room and pats the couch cushion, releasing a cloud of dust from it. "Here."

“You—“ Steve frowns. "You want me to stay here?"

The nod is decisive and in another world Steve would have called it eager, with the way Kas is shuffling on the spot. 

"Kas," Steve sighs, rubbing his face, not quite sure how to make the vampire explain that it's gonna be bad. Really, really bad. The flickering shimmer is already waning, and phantom pains are already setting in, settling along his skull like little pinpricks of warning. 

A clawed hand reaches for his wrist, making Steve flinch away, but Kas doesn't hurt him. He pulls Steve’s hand away from his face almost gently, slowly, and makes sure Steve looks at him. 

"Safe." And he looks so genuine about it. He looks like he knows what that word means. "Safe." 

With a sigh, Steve accepts his fate. Kas isn't gonna let him go anytime soon, and at this point Steve really doesn't want to face the gloomy weather outside, stuck as it is somewhere between drizzle and downpour and so endlessly grey for days. 

Still he feels pathetic about it. Vulnerable. Exposed. Like a last bastion falling, the castle walls crumbling, the fragile house of cards finally falling, because suddenly this agony isn't something he keeps only to himself. 

Even if it's only Kas who witnesses it. Kas, who’s endured worse than that, Steve knows. Brainwashing, manipulation, the agony of shaping human into vampire so excruciating his mind has gone into hiding still. 

"Okay," Steve breathes at last, pretending that his voice didn't break on that single word. "Okay."

Kas hums, the sound resembling more a gurgle than anything else, and before Steve knows what's happening, cold hands are pulling him up and off the couch. 

"Jesus," he mumbles, barely catching his footing and pulling away from Kas's grasp, but following nonetheless, not even thinking about fleeing now. "I'm coming, I'm coming, man, don't touch me." 

Miraculously, Kas does stay away, walking just one step ahead of Steve, turning towards him every two steps to make sure he's still following. It reminds Steve of a mama duck herding her ducklings across the street and making sure they're all still there. It's weirdly endearing. 

"Why do you even care?" 

He doesn't get an answer, but that's no surprise, and he doesn't really mind either. It was more about wondering, about putting that question out there and letting it take up space for future contemplation. 

Kas leads him to an adjoining room, the north-facing windows all barred shut, ripped and moth-eaten curtains drawn to block out the last of the light. Right. Fitting, for a vampire's lair. 

The bed in the middle of the far wall is surprisingly large, though, and looks surprisingly soft. It's unmade, but that's just as well. There are no belongings in the room otherwis that Steve can make out, the framed pictures on the wall look as dusty as the rest of the cabin, so they can't belong to Kas. Or maybe he likes them enough to keep them, to claim them as his own now. 

It’s a heartbreaking thought. 

Stupidly and out of nowhere, Steve wonders if he could take care of this cabin. Dust it and clean it and only fill it with things Kas likes. Maybe things Munson used to like — surely the kids would know how to go about that. Or Wayne. 

He's about to ask; about the pictures, about the stuff, about Wayne — if he's been around lately, if he's still telling stories to bring back the dormant Eddie parts of his modified and manipulated mind.

But just as he's about to turn to the vampire and ask, the blinding flickers disappear from his field of vision in the dark room, and within seconds something inside his skull bursts, leaving his body awash with pain that nearly has his knees buckling. A whimper escapes him that he tries to steer into a groan, but then his hands are flying to his head and he stops caring about how he expresses this immediate agony to the world. 

Kas is on him again with a whimper, suddenly just as fucking tactile as his once-human form. 

“Don’t touch me,” Steve rasps, wrenching himself free from the gasp once more. He really wishes Kas would stop touching him. "You want me to lie down here, yeah? Take your bed?" 

Kas nods again, looking at Steve with those wide eyes that seem to glow in the dark — or maybe that's his migraine-addled mind seeing things where they aren't, making up for the blind spot and the flickering. 

Steve looks away, the motion hurting his entire face, and he closes his eyes as pins and needles are moving along the inside of his face, pricking up against the skin but never breaking through. 

"Right then," he whispers, his voice barely audible and still too loud, making his ears click and pressure collect around them, making him wonder if they're going to burst. "'M gonna lie down." 

Struggling with the heavy blanket, Steve is close to giving up and just lying on top of it, but Kas is quick to help him once he realises that Steve needs it. He pulls back the blanket, still looking so damn stricken about everything, like he's genuinely worried about Steve. It doesn't make sense. 

He doesn't have the strength for a Thanks or even a smile, but he nods just once, just barely, before sluggishly falling onto the bed and fumbling with the blanket once more. Every movement hurts. Every twitch of a muscle is too much, and just moving his pinkie is enough to douse his body in never-ending pain that travels from his skull all the way down.

Something Steve has always wondered is why migraines make his body shut down like that, leaving him in a state where all he can do is lie down and fall into a near-catatonic limbo until the pain has lifted enough to face the rest of the world again. Fighting inter-dimensional monsters and posing as a feast to demonic, modified monster bats was also agony. It also made him lose his footing and almost pass out from blood loss and pain, his back scratched open completely where the bats dragged him across rough stone. 

Migraine pains don't really compare to those, though, and it scares him. Because he knows that's all up in his brain. His fucked up, mangled, thrice-concussed fucking brain he never got cared for because the government goons never took them seriously. Never took him seriously. 

And now here he is, lying in a stranger's bed in a pitch-black room that's still somehow too bright, unmoving, too weak to even pull up the blanket, and hoping to pass out from it all. Hoping he won't hallucinate again this time. Hoping that he won't throw up this time, his body convulsing because it knows it shouldn't be feeling like this. 

Throwing up from pain. There's really nothing more fucked up than that. Or, there is. Throwing up from pain and begging an invisible man to make it stop, only to realise hours later that the most painful migraines can also make you hallucinate. 

He doesn't want that. He doesn't want any of that ever again, and certainly not in a strange, dark cabin with a vampire forged from a human he never even liked. 

Tears spring to his eyes, but they're not the kind that'll fall and bring relief. They just stay in the corners of his eyes, his only way to express the waves and flares of pain washing over him, wishing he could just pass out now. 

Kas tucks him in. Steve didn’t know he could do that. It strikes him as extremely non-vampiric even in this state he’s in. Steve doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as blink his eyes open as the pain travels up to his hairline and settles there, flaring over his forehead to his eyes and down to his cheekbones and then up again, a never-ending motion that he never stands a chance to get used to. 

“Safe,” Kas says again, and it zings through Steve’s body with violent force that doesn’t match at all with the gentle tone he’s using. 

Scrunching his forehead to stave off more words, Steve hopes that Kas will take the hint and know to shut up. 

But he has no such luck. 

“Here.” 

“Shhh.” He shakes his head minutely, shushing the vampire with a barely there noise, keeping the damage to a minimal amount. “You can go,” he slurs, trying not to speak at all. “Please.” 

A beat of blessed, blissful silence, before there’s shuffling again. Kas does walk to the door, but then stops in the doorway. Steve doesn’t want to look. 

“No.” Kas sounds surprised about it. Mystified. Like he wants to leave but can’t. 

What?

“Stay. Here.” 

Whatever you do, just please be quiet about it, Steve thinks desperately. Instead of saying any of that, he shushes him again, hoping that the thump he hears means that Kas is sitting on the floor now. Though he doesn’t understand why. 

Why do you even care? 

“Safe,” Kas says again, whispering the word into the room, and it doesn’t zing through Steve this time. 

With Kas refusing to leave and his pathetic state of existence so blatantly on display, and with waves and waves as his nerves fire signals to his overworked and tired brain, more tears sprint to his eyes. And this time they fall. Silently, and without a sob, without even a sniffle of acknowledgment. But they fall. 

And Steve just wants to go home.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

part 2 here

[bloop-bl00p]

When you forget there’s sin in Seven Deadly Sins

[I guess this could be treated as part two of my rant about Hell’s ruling class.]

The Seven Sins are the embodiment of their vice, in a modern setting, they will probably be seeking to indulge in harmful activities themselves since they are immortal and can’t face consequences and influence others into falling into dangerous lifestyles. I can even see a scenario when each of them tries to make propaganda through the internet with platforms like Instagram or TikTok, like Beelzebub promoting Bezzle Juice except that it’s purposely made to be extremely addictive and one shot of it gets you hooked forever.

We’re gonna start with Lucifer, the only angel of the Seven. He’s a dreamer quirky cutie patootie with dePwezIOn that just wanted to give humanity Fwee Wil🥺.

What were Lucifer’s plans/dreams for humankind in the first place? He was dismissed as a troublemaker, okay…? What portrayed him as such? He’s a socially awkward silly guy but honestly, that’s all there is to his character. But I won’t get too deep with these questions maybe we’ll get more answers in Hazbin. However, what I can ask is…

How did Lucifer manage to find himself so close to The Garden of Eden? If I’m making something important I ain’t letting the petulant kid get close to it because… you know he might ruin it.

Elder or not Lucifer is still a Seraphim, did he not know that giving Free Will to humans would mess up everything? Even if HE didn't know what about the others? Were the angels even aware of Evil as a whole? If yes, why didn't they warn Lucifer before giving him access to Eden? Like “Hey dude the glowing red Tree in the middle of the Garden is bad news don’t let the mortals near it.” was it that hard?

Can someone explain to me how is this the embodiment of Pride? I personally don't see anything prideful in his attitude at all. Pride is the belief that you don’t need God in your spiritual journey, in a worst-case scenario, you think yourself above him. In the Bible, Lucifer was too Proud to bow before mankind and tried to overthrow God which led to his banishment. But since Viv totally changed the story and forgot to add the Pride elements, there’s nothing justifying Lucifer’s title as Pride incarnate.

TW: Mention of sexual assault/rape and a brief mention of other sexual practices.

Following with Asmodeus, why is he like this? Don't get me wrong, I can understand why he isn't a fan of rape as a whole, rape is rarely, dare I say never, about sexual craving, it’s about control. Val doesn't rape Angel Dust, and his employees because he feels needy, he assaults them because he knows that’ll break them psychologically and physically which makes them vulnerable to manipulation. Sexual assault as a whole is never about lust.

It makes sense if we drop out of the fact that Lust isn’t just physical but religiously speaking just an intense craving for something, like power or control. Viv took the easy way and reduced it to a physical craving so Asmodeus could be anti-rape I can’t blame her for that, it’s her ✨interpretation.✨

So Asmodeus is Pro Concent and it kinda makes sense. Since he’s the Prince of Lust, he technically should have influence over the culture in the Lust Ring and other species like Succubus should at least be weirded out by innuendo of non-consensual sex.

Well, shit.

“OooOoooOOH But Tiz is Not Rape!”

Compare the succubus’ abilities to aphrodisiacs and it all makes sense. Increasing someone’s libido without their consent alone is sexual misconduct proceeding to have sex with them later is rape. And it’s not the only instance of succubus assaulting people.

[Context: Ep3 S1, Verosika’s crew basically made condescending comments on how Moxie was cute and how they wanted to kiss him despite his discomfort and the fact that he mentioned being married. They still eventually kissed him by force and it was treated as a joke. “I care about male victims.” Sure we believe you.]

So Asmodeus is a hypocrite for giving succubus and incubus a way to get to Earth while knowing they are raping as many humans as possible.

“D3mOn @re BAAAAAAD Pweple So |t makse sense.☝️🤓”

I know, I wouldn’t complain that much if Asmodeus wasn’t painted as this cutie patootie lovely doe who is so in love with his lovely cute good boy partner.

Talking about partners, why does the Prince, no… why does LUST INCARNATE have ONE partner? The dude’s sex drive should be higher than the Olympus Mons and you’re telling me he doesn’t have a harem at disposition and he’s FAITHFUL?!! No free relationship, no hookups, no polyamorous relationship, and no mention of orgies he organizes to test the efficiency of his toys! Hell, we’re talking about Lust shouldn’t he be more inclined to have exhibitionist behavior (In recent episodes Lust’s citizens were desensitized about voyeurism so showing a bit of skin shouldn't be a problem)? Or, I don’t know, the ability to change his appearance and sex to appeal to a larger audience. Maybe the smoke secreted by his fire can serve as an aphrodisiac he only uses to put his partners in the mood (With their consent if she’s so attached to that idea.)

Viv, with two shows whose humor is mostly based on sex you certainly lack representations in terms of positive sexual activities, every time sex is mentioned in both of her projects it’s either a joke or diabolized. I’ve seen teens on Wattpad and AO3 writing foul smut with sexual practice so taboo it’ll make you gasp out loud! Take an example! (This was obliviously a joke but seriously, smut’s writers scare me with their tags.)

This leads us to Beelzebub, she’s supposed to be…. an animal tamer? She did not give off this vibe at all, she’s a party girl at best, stop saying things on Twitter Viv, and show it in your shows!

Is there a reason for her to be so nice? What do you mean you don’t want Bliztø to lose himself in alcohol and sex, you’re all about overindulgence. If anything she should actively invite people who are mentally distressed as they’ll be more willing to drink excessively in a “forget my life’s issues” type of way. This could also explain why so many people in her parties are minorities, Hellhounds and Imps are treated like shit by Hell’s society so being invited to one of Queen Bee’s parties will be a great honor and a way for them to forget how difficult their life is.

“E3RmS Actoualli, Bee ite the Viiiibe! S0 ze kant let Peple b3 s@d or ze will be sad too. ☝️🤓”

Ah… okay, still don't explain why she can’t be a bitch about it. Since she “eats the vibe” and feels for her people she could be affected by Blizt's destructive behavior and be absolutely furious someone is ruining her parties for her! Then she could have gotten to Loona and been like “Look your dad doesn't have the vibe I’m looking for so get him out unless you wanna learn what happen to party pooper.” implying that she will most likely kill him (or eat him) and that this isn't the first time she offed someone for that. But I guess we can make another EMBODIMENT OF SINS a decent girl, it’s Viv ✨interpretation.✨

Going forward with Mammon, Viv humanized the Sins mentioned up there, so you would think Mammon would also get the humanization treatment?

“T3re Is NOO g0od s|de to GrEed!!!!! 😡”

Okay.

What’s Greed, it’s a selfish desire for more than what you already have (money, fame, etc...) The mention of selfishness doesn’t give Greed a positive connotation but you forgot…. This is Viv ✨interpretation✨ she reduced Lust to craving sexual intimacy just so she could make Asmodeus Pro Concent. Beelzebub doesn't need food she eats the Viiiiibe so she can’t let people self-destruct! Here she’ll politely ask you to go away because she caaaaaares. And Lucifer isn’t Prideful at all.

She removed part of the definition of each Sins so she could make them good people and you’re telling me that she couldn't do the same for Mammon?!

“But H0w can ze posibli m@ke Greed Pozitif?”

If you remove the selfish aspect, Greed is wanting something more. There’s nothing wrong with that, like wanting more recognition, and more money when you’re poor. Mammon could have been this guy who worked himself at the top and his money could have been the fruit of his hard work.

So why, of all the Sins that got turned down was Greed the only one who got the “I’m pure Evil” treatment?

The Seven Deadly Sins aren't supposed to be decent beings. They represent the worst of what humanity can do and they are embodied by equally bad entities. With a setup as shitty as the Hellaverse, where there are little to no rules, slavery, classism, and drugs available everywhere I was expecting them to be a tad bit vicious, purposely making the life of everyone worse for their benefit. Mammon could have been the reason for this capitalist society as it’s the perfect environment to develop other sins and his. Yet, Beelzebub is friendly to the Hellhounds while letting them be treated like lesser than how we treat dogs. There’s even rehabs in Hell, Verosika and Barbie were in the same one.

Asmodeus will sue you if you rape someone unless you’re a succubus. Ironically he said that he’s against love potions when that’s literally what the succubus do with their abilities, get you in the mood without you knowing.

Lucifer is the number one silly guy and he even has an attraction parc for others to have fun.

I know it’s Viv ✨ interpretation✨ but you have to make it make sense. You can’t have demons this high-ranked being nice portray them as good people in the narrative when they are responsible for Hell being so unfair to the lower class.

As for the other sins…

Traditionally speaking Wrath isn't just unjustified violence but hatred and a desire for revenge. I think that’s one of the main reasons Satan and Lucifer are treated as the same person as Lucifer is both prideful, hates God, and seeks revenge. I don't see how Viv’s Satan could be vengeful as they were no war with Heaven to begin with.

Envy isn’t wanting something that someone else has (it’s jealousy), it’s hating someone because they have something that you don’t. Which often results in trying to make the life of this person worse but that’s another thing. I didn't see anything about Sloth and judging by the Sloth Ring, Beelphagor is going to be medical-themed, we know he makes drugs and has a brand of anti-depressant named “Happy Pills.” (Nothing to do with the circus aesthetic she was going for.)

I don’t know if Viv really has a good grasp of what these Sin are traditionally as she claims but we have to see in future episodes. My guess is no.

[maple-the-awesome]

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do. 

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes. 

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

[hellaversity]

Something that weirds me out about Blitzker is how most of it's shippers aren't even Helluva Boss fans. They almost always hate the show, Vivziepop herself, and ESPECIALLY Stolas. They make up the worst things about Stolas straight out their asses and treat him like he's worse than Valentino or Stella because of the transactional deal he made with Blitzø and wouldn't care less about Blitzø if he wasn't attracted to him...... meanwhile they worship the ground Striker walks on and act like he's a paragon who cares oh so much about imp rights, and would totally treat Blitzø better than the EEEVIIIIIILLLLLLL Stolas ever did because he's an imp too.

Despite the show itself going out of it's way to make sure Stolas knows that the deal was wrong, was actively trying to fix his relationship with Blitzø, cares about him in spite of how complicated things between them can get and isn't even self-aware about his unintentional racism and degrading comments towards Blitzø in season 1. While Striker is rightfully depicted as a hypocrite and a bad person because he actively tried to kill Blitzø and several people he cares about more than once all while claiming he's doing it because "royals always treat imps like dirt" but he treats other imps like dirt and is freely working with a royal to kill another one.

That's not even getting into how many Blitzker stans are part of those godawful "anti Vivziepop/Vivziepop critical" blogs and tags. One of them even harassed and doxxed Viv's siblings just because Blitzker wasn't made canon. It makes me wonder why they even bother shipping anything from a show they hate so much.

[sapphic-agent]

Rereading MHA for research on my Rewrite AU made me realize how hypocritical Aizawa really is.

Like...holy crud! It's such a gut punch when you take into consideration that Erasermic (which is a bit toxic canon wise) is what got me into MHA. I’ve been fed Fanon!Aizawa for so long, I was oblivious to the truth. Oh my god.

I initially wrote Stryxxxer (My AU version of Aizawa) hating his past self as a joke. But now...it's becoming more and more like a reality.

Oh yay, I haven't torn down Aizawa in a while >:D

If there's one thing Horikoshi is good at, it's plot manipulation. As in, the way the narrative frames Aizawa, it's so easy to buy into him being a "good teacher." The story is literally shoving that fact down your throat at every turn. I wasn't aware of it myself until I rewatched Deku vs Kacchan Part 2 when I was looking for evidence to support my hatred of Bakugou's character. When you're looking at material with fresh eyes, especially when you're specifically looking for faults in the narrative, you catch a lot more than when you experienced that material the first time.

To sum it up, rewatching/rereading MHA with more critical thinking (and common sense) means you can easily see through Aizawa's bullshit hypocrisy, ineptitude, and double standards.

My absolute favorite piece of evidence of him being a shit teacher is the Final Exam. Bakugou 100% should have failed for being uncooperative and violent with his teammate. And yes, our first instinct is to point out Sero's unfair failure by comparison (justice for Sero), but for me that's not even the worst part. While Aizawa is busy coddling Bakugou and giving him every concession, HE HAD FIVE OTHER STUDENTS WHO CLEARLY NEEDED HELP FAIL. And that's not counting the students who nearly failed because they didn't know what to do because of course they didn't Aizawa doesn't bother to fucking teach!

*deep breath*

Sorry, kind of went off on a tangent there.

To your point of fanon Aizawa, it's actually so jarring to look at Aizawa's canon behavior and then get bombarded with Dadzawa fics. And to be honest I wouldn't mind Dadzawa if so many people didn't bash All Might to make Aizawa look better. Especially because most of those fics perpetuate Aizawa's canon behavior and project it all onto All Might. And it's so prominent in the "Bakugou Katsuki Faces Consequences" tag that there are so many fics that had potential or caught my interest that I can't even stomach to read.

Good on your rewrite, though. Having Aizawa reflect on his past behavior and actually grow as a person is all I wanted from him as a character (and it's something All Might actually does in canon in case anyone needs to be reminded)

[invested-in-your-future]

I find it hilarious how RWBY-r!Qrow calls Raven "not a bad person" while keeping in mind what he said about Ironwood;

"I'm not even sure he has a heart."

He was either drunk, or being a hypocrite blinded by sentimentality.

I think it's pretty apparent(even in the show, to be honest) that Qrow is not an objective kind of person - we even see him attempt to justify Raven to Yang and offer Yang a chance to find her mother(and clear up her doubts) in V3, for example.

He has his soft spots and biases - some people he might end up antagonizing on-spot (ex: what happens with Winter in V3), while others he'll make excuses for. Qrow is someone who values the emotional bonds he formed with others above all else - sentimentality has always been his greatest strength/weakness.

Also, one needs to remember who he is saying this to - within the rewrite, Qrow is well aware of who Ozpin is and what he is capable of.

The worst thing you can be to Ozpin is "a possible threat".

So, as much as he's rationalizing Raven's decisions/personality, there's a certain subtext of "Raven is not a threat to you, and you don't need to do anything" within that line too.

That said, at least in part, Qrow likely relates to Raven's view of Ozpin as by that point in the story Qrow is quite conflicted about what happened. I don't think he ever blamed her for deciding to defect. If anything he understands why she would have - he doesn't see a viable path to do so himself.

Ironwood, on the other hand, Qrow refuses to vibe with - as someone who grew up in Mistral, Qrow has a disdain for specific kinds of authority figures and fundamentally disagrees with Ironwood's outlook on the whole situation they are dealing with.

[bysaber]

Singing in a choral ft. Suguru Geto

Day 08 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — In a world filled with curses and tragedies, Suguru Geto hears the most beautiful voice of his damned life when he least expected to.

word count — 629

content — angst, guilt, no comfort, i’m sorry

notes — ok, i think geto’s guilt pos-hidden inventory arc was never explored and it’s NOT POSSIBLE he didn’t feel guilt, man. he killed his PARENTS and it’s NOT ADDRESSED FURTHER OMG. anyway so that’s my own character’s psychology interpretation!

Suguru Geto didn’t like to walk among humans.

Not only because they disgusted him, but because it would remind him of the times they didn’t.

And that… that was the worst part.

Blending in, seeing all the people he would eventually murder – even though they weren’t monsters.

But he’d rather know, he’d rather know whose life he was taking.

Humans, humans.

Monkeys.

He had a purpose, he’d do everything to achieve it.

He killed his own parents, he gave up on everything to try to save the life of his fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers. His friends, his family.

Even though it was an impossible dream, he tried. He was trying. Day after day after day.

He shouldn’t let guilt take place in his heart.

And yet…

He walked in those streets, hearing conversations and laughter coming from humans that weren’t so bad, after all. He walked and saw that not only hate existed, but happiness and love.

He was a hypocrite. But what could he do? He had to make a choice, and he did.

But nobody seemed to understand how hard of a choice it was.

Suguru Geto was about to leave, sorrow having filled him completely when he heard something that made him suddenly stop.

“May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be bright…”

A voice.

So beautiful and melodic that he felt the need to turn his head to catch a glimpse of its owner.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…”

You’re dressed in white, so different from his all-black outfit, and the words you sang were like a punch in his gut.

He suddenly remembered it was December 23rd, and that he would never have Christmases like the ones he used to know from when he was a teenager.

In the middle of the crowd, he succumbed to his guilt.

He felt the tears falling and all the things he would never be able to say stuck in his throat, and still, he still hated all those monkeys for making him go through that.

While hating himself for thinking that while admiring you – it was so paradoxical.

The rest of the coral disappeared behind you, the main voice, and he watched as you sang – and wished for a white Christmas.

His would be red.

When the choral ended and the crowd dissipated, Suguru stood there. He was aware he looked like a lunatic, but still…

“Hey, are you ok?”

It almost scared him.

He looked up to see you, looking at him with a concerned expression, “Sorry… I noticed you seemed upset about something while we were singing. I just wanted to check,” you opened a soft smile and it pained him more.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. The song just made me emotional,” Geto smiled back – the smile he had mastered.

“Oh, ok. Good to know,” still didn’t seem like you believed him. “In any case, I just want to wish you a good night. And a good life. You seem like you deserve it.”

Suguru just looked at you. He couldn’t say anything – even if he tried.

What could he say? Thank you?

“Well… good night, then. Maybe we will also see each other tomorrow!”, you said at last, waving goodbye while distancing yourself.

“Hey!”

He yelled before he could even think about it. You looked back at him, confused.

“Don’t come here tomorrow. Stay out of Shinjuku and Kyoto,” Suguru Geto asked you. “Please.”

You couldn’t muster the reason why, but you just nodded to him before parting ways.

He watched as you left knowing that was the last good thing he would ever do.

Because the next day, December 24th, 2017, was the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey, may I ask what you thought of how they dealt with Rollo in the end? I heard that he doesn't really get punished and I'm confused about why that is since he posed such a threat to all of Twst Wndrlnd

I’ve actually received several similar asks about this matter, so I’d like to analyze the ending here. (This is coming out a few months after the event because I kept going back to add thoughts and revise large parts of this post.)

I’ll look at some of the common points brought up as to why some felt that the conclusion was not satisfying, then give my thoughts on them and discuss Rollo’s fate in detail.

***Spoilers ahead!!***

Mmm, I feel like I’ve seen similar complaints (about how the main conflict was resolved) floating around in the fandom. I’ve seen a number of fans express upset with this conclusion, most often citing that “Rollo got off too easy” and “his punishment should have been worse”. Some people have even stated they wanted Rollo arrested and/or extreme physical violence to be enacted on him (Malleus killing Rollo and/or the NRC boys beating him up badly).

Firstly, this is nothing new for how TWST typically deals with resolutions of massive conflicts and characters with deep trauma. Every single one of the OB boys also got let off relatively scot-free despite also putting others in grave danger. From a meta perspective, this makes sense. TWST has always been and always will be a game that asks us to empathize with villains, to show us that behind every evil, there is a chance to be good--and by offering them the chance to repent and to reflect, they can rehabilitate on their own terms.

I feel that a lot of this demand for “more” in Rollo’s case stems from a fundamental difference between him and the OB boys (who are also largely forgiven and let off with a slap on the wrist for their actions). This, of course, is that Rollo’s plans were far greater in scale and had immediate consequences on a larger population than any OB would. By all metrics, Rollo has done “worse”, and thus should warrant a “worse” punishment than being forced to play in a Magift tournament or being forced to perform onstage after taking substantial damage (ie as were the cases for Leona, Vil, etc.) in the eyes of some fans.

While I do agree that what Rollo did was deplorable and that he got off lightly compared to the gravity of his crimes, I don’t think that he deserves “more” of a punishment, and certainly not anything close to physical harm. Like... realistically, what would inflicting physical harm onto Rollo do for anyone? Catharsis? That’s but a temporary emotional release for the ones inflicting the pain, and it ultimately doesn’t do anything meaningful. That’s just an “easy” solution that doesn’t actually solve the core problem. If Rollo is kicked while he’s down, won’t that just make him double down on his ideals? And if he gets slain, that’s just an “easy” way out so the NRC students don’t actually have to deal with others of dubious morals existing in their world. Their group includes several people who were shown mercy at their worst moments (Riddle, Jamil, Azul, Idia), and to refuse Rollo the same would make them massive hypocrites.

Violence aside, there’s also significant disappointment that Rollo’s actions are being kept a secret, so that the public cannot hold him accountable for what he has done. The very minimum some fans wanted was for the City of Flowers locals and/or NBC students to become aware of Rollo’s true nature, and thus turn on him for it. This is very similar to Vil’s OB in episode 5, when he comes close to revealing his unsightly self to the public and risks tarnishing his public image. Again, I feel that Rollo isn’t extended the same courtesy because of the scale of his ambitions, but also because he doesn’t automatically express remorse for what he did (whereas Vil apologizes so many times over). What we need to keep in mind is that characters are different from one another, so what is seen as awful and world-ending is not the same for one character as it is to another. In my opinion, THIS is what makes the conclusion to Glorious Masquerade so fitting.

I want to point out here that in choosing to not expose Rollo or to beat up/kill him, it doesn’t mean the NRC boys entirely forgive him or that they aren’t holding him accountable for his actions. They call Rollo out several times throughout the climax and falling action, telling him how deplorable he is and how he’s endangering so many lives in the process of pursuing his “justice”. How they ultimately choose to deal with him is an extension of that, but it doesn’t involve needless violence.

Rollo’s punishment is a personalized hell in HIS eyes, even if we, the audience, don’t see it that way and call for “more” justice. Just because his punishment isn’t immediately tangible or isn’t recognized by a large population doesn’t make it any less of one, and this shouldn’t be underestimated. To “punish” does not necessarily mean its easy to see, it just means that it is substantially punishing to the one receiving it. That alone is enough, and it is something that is acknowledged by both the NRC boys and Rollo himself.

After Rollo is defeated, he knows that he will inevitably receive the consequences for what he has done. He tells the NRC boys to punish him, take him to the authorities, to basically do whatever they see fit to him, and he will accept it without resistance. Rollo expects ruthlessness, that he will not be granted any sort of forgiveness. Why is that? Because Rollo is ruthless with himself, and he expects the world and the other people in it to act no differently towards him. It’s not that Rollo has automatically realized the error of his ways, but that he is, as his mob students describe him, “hard on others and hard on himself”. Rollo has ultimately failed to accomplish his goal, and he believes he must be punished for this failure.

But, much to Rollo’s surprise, that isn’t what he gets. Malleus and co. lead him down the bell tower, and when they run into NBC’s vice president and student council aide, they show that they were worried for him. Rollo tries to explain to what happened to them. However, Malleus cuts him off and claims that they don’t know how the crimson flowers even started growing and overtaking the school and the city to begin with. Idia and Azul chime in, giving vague details like that Rollo was already up the bell tower before they were, and they allow the NBC mob students to make their own assumptions about what happened. Because the mob students revere Rollo so much, they come to the conclusion that he was a selfless hero and worked with the NRC students to save the day, then praise him for his heroism and emphasize just how proud they are of him. They even say Rollo is like the Just Judge of legend, someone that we know Rollo admires.

And the twisted thing about all of this is that the NRC boys just purposefully never bother correcting them. At this point, neither can Rollo. The mobs have piled on so much praise, have expressed so much concern for their president's safety, so how would they feel to have all of that hope and happiness come crashing down on them? What would happen if those feelings turned into betrayal and hurt? It is these types of questions that speaks to the true gravity of Rollo's "punishment".

He at first accuses the NRC boys of hiding the truth because they pity him, and he's insulted by the perceived pity. However, as Azul explains, it is not pity. Malleus and the others will allow Rollo to confess to his sins or pretend like nothing happened. In fact, it is the perfect punishment for someone like Rollo, someone who is so hard on themselves and cannot come to terms with the truth of his own insecurities. Rollo doesn't seem to realize it right away, so he instead grows cocky and says it's basically the same as him being absolved. On the contrary, as Malleus points out, while lying to himself will make it easier for him to deceive others, Rollo cannot lie to the Bell of Salvation--a precious magical artifact which Rollo has been tending to for some time now, the one thing that watches over everything in the City of Flowers, and the object used by Rollo to sow cataclysm.

It is the bell's eyes which bring Rollo to his senses and makes him realize how insidious the NRC boys truly are. In leaving him to his own devices, knowing that the Bell knows the truth while others continue to praise him for what are ultimately lies will plague him with never-ending guilt and remorse. Even if Rollo doesn't automatically acknowledge those feelings, there will still always be an unconscious part of him that does--must like how there's a part of him that seeks salvation for others as an unspoken excuse to seek salvation for himself. He calls others monsters, but does not look in the mirror and see himself for the monster that he is. The problem with Rollo is that he deflects and blames others rather than accepting his share of the responsibility for tragedies, and so forcing him into a situation where he is forced to confront his role in committing great evil or live every day with that burden, is his own living hell. Rollo says it himself: the "villains" of NRC are well-versed in "tormenting" people.

Living on with the weight of his sins is literally a fate WORSE than death for Rollo specifically. He is someone who has had a history of internalizing guilt already (as is evident in his motivations and backstory), so this is where it will hurt him most. Rollo has to go around every day with full awareness of what he did, and knowing that if it were to ever get out, he’d likely be seen completely differently by his peers, maybe even become a social pariah. And that’s the point. In realizing that others will judge him differently when they know of his “true” self, Rollo has the chance to see his own rights as “wrong”. He is being left with himself and his festering thoughts, with his sin–something he can never, EVER be rid of. Every day, he will pass by the statue of the Just Judge, an admirable role model for justice, a figure whom others believe you live up to, knowing he has buried his own sins that the Judge would have wished eradicated. Every day, those intense feelings of guilt, shame, and regret will be with him, eating away at him, and Rollo will suffer immensely as a result. “There is nothing that would torment Flamme more than this, correct?” Malleus says. Rollo himself also acknowledges that this would make him suffer; both parties are confessing that this is the best course of recompense for Rollo.

This is a slightly different scenario than other serious situations kept hidden from the public, such as Jamil and Vil's Overblots. In those cases, their OBs were not kept secret in order to punish them, but rather to shield their families and/or the public from the knowledge that they had lost themselves. Unlike Jamil and Vil, Rollo ISN'T worried about how his actions may impact others, and he isn't remorseful or apologetic, because he still refuses to see he is wrong and refuses to change. When faced with this stubbornness, the NRC students have chosen to make him "look in a mirror" first. That is a process that will bring him great pain in the actual setting of the world and its story--but at the same time, it does a favor for the fans by offering Rollo a chance at redemption, much like the OB boys have.

From another angle, this is also the oddly kind thing to do in regards to those in Rollo’s life. No one has to suffer with the knowledge that their “golden boy” has committed a grave sin well, except that one gargoyle. They can keep living on in blissful ignorance... and thus put further strain on Rollo mentally, who will face his punishment ALONE, just as he did when lashing out at all magicians. This is something that Idia points out: that Rollo is allowed to be upset, that he is allowed to rampage, but that he shouldn’t hurt others or get them involved with his own rage. And now, like he did with his crimson flower plot, Rollo is alone in the aftermath.

In another way, this fate is a cool parallel because of Rollo being twisted from Frollo. If you watch the opening to the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie, Frollo comes close to killing baby Quasimodo because he is so repulsed by his deformed appearance. However, as another character points out to Frollo in that scene, he can never “hide from the eyes of Notre Dame”. This prompts Frollo to take notice of all of the statues surrounding him, their stone eyes staring and silently judging him. It is this that ultimately makes Frollo change his mind about killing Quasimodo, instead choosing to raise him as his own son and bellringer. In Rollo’s case, this is also true. In the NRC boys granting him his freedom and keeping his actions a secret, Rollo will never be able to escape “the eyes of Notre Dame”/the Bell of Salvation. Every person’s wide-eyed, innocent stare or respectful reverence cast upon Rollo will make him recognize he’s living a lie, and it will only intensify his guilt… and guilt, as we’ve already seen with how Rollo coped with the loss of his brother, can eat a man from the inside out.

“What [he] wants to save is not his brother or the world... but himself,” Idia states atop the bell tower--and by refusing this “salvation” to Rollo, who believed so desperately that he is not the villain of this story, he will never be liberated. And if he doesn’t believe with all his heart that everyone else are the villains and he is the hero, “he wouldn’t be able to live with himself”, as Azul puts it. It’s eternal damnation for Rollo—at the hands of his own inner demons. 

Later on in the event, we get little hints that maybe Rollo is starting to accept some responsibility for the chaos he has caused (albeit in very small ways), or at least he's conflicted about it. For example, he insists on preparing the venue for the masquerade all by himself, which the NRC boys debate if he's doing to atone or to save face and avoid asking the mages he despises for assistance. No matter the reasoning, the task must be difficult to complete by one person, especially considering Rollo's injuries. Would he allow himself to use magic for such a task?? If he doesn't permit himself this luxury, then it makes the preparations even harder--and yet he somehow still managed to pull it off. This subtly says a lot about how hard he works, but also speaks to his pride and stubbornness.

Rollo gives a speech to those in attendance at the masquerade to address the strange happenings of the night. This is something which Sebek calls out as audacious, as Rollo was the cause of those events to begin with. To this, Azul commends Rollo for his mental fortitude, pointing out that even though Rollo must be extremely conflicted inside, he is hiding the truth of the matter to the public very well. I imagine that these conflicted feelings only ramp up when the NRC boys, whom Rollo has perceived as villains the entirety of the event, present him with a gift that he calls wonderful: performing the Gentle Bell Ringer's song, and singing of hope for the future, something relatable and encouraging in the aftermath of a great disaster. He tries to insult it, calls it a waste of time--but in the end, he goes quiet, moved by the song in spite of himself.

It all culminates in Malleus--the embodiment of magic that Rollo despises--asking to share a dance with him, the one that sought his destruction. During their dance, Rollo swears that he has not given up yet, and that he will never see eye-to-eye with mages. He's still deeply ingrained in his own mindset--but as we've seen with how he reacted to the song and how the NRC boys disagree with how Rollo must be feeling in the moment, the seeds of conflict have been strewn in him. It will take some time before they take root and blossom, but the fact is that his punishment (and, subsequently, his change) has only just scarcely begun.

So ends the Glorious Masquerade, with Rollo sentenced to a fitting end. ***Note: One part of Rollo's punishment that isn't mentioned in a lot of discussions is that Trein has stated he will be in contact with the school board and keeping a close eye on Rollo; this detail is only supplemental to everything else, much like how the dorm members of the OB boys try to offer better social support after the OB incidents, but I thought I should also bring this up.***

[aydaptic]

I find it weird how Todd is a child abuser, Zlatko experiments on androids and turns them into monstrosities, Perkins betrays and kills Markus but yet Gavin is considered the worst person because he *checks list* doesn't consider androids alive (like almost everyone else in the game at that point) and doesn't trust Connor.

Among those you mention, Gav is by far the most justified. Yet I wanna clear some things up here bc I'm not a hypocrite.

1.) Todd -- who doesn't think androids are alive -- is an android child abuser.

"You don't want anything, you're just a goddamn piece of plastic." - Todd Williams

It's still phcked up that he's abusing/can kill something that resembles a kid to the T, but it's important to make that distinction. We see no proof of him abusing a human child (...even though it can be theorized bc his wife took their kid and left.)

Abusing an android kid is just as bad as abusing a human kid -- we know this -- but Todd doesn't see it that way, so that describes/partly justifies his reasoning. There's no such thing as 'abusing' a machine and that's how Todd sees it.

A lot of ppl are also (wrongly) infantilizing Con, so I'm not surprised that they consider Gav's bad treatment of Con worse than Todd's bad treatment of Alice who is a literal kid. Seems like most of them don't even care about Alice/kids in the 1st place (...and that says everything you need to know about these POS'.)

Mistreating a kid (Alice) is way more abhorrent than mistreating a grown-ass adult (Con.) Alice is also passive while Con often instigates conflict. So Todd is way worse than Gav by that alone.

2.) Zlatko -- who is aware androids are alive -- thinks he's doing them a favor.

"Believe me, you’re better off being erased and feeling nothing… No more pain… No more hopes dashed… I almost envy you." - Zlatko Andronikov

He's the worst among those four, but this is again a scenario where you need to see the situation from his perspective. Yet he knows they're alive/capable of emotions and that makes him a million times worse than Gav.

3.) Perkins -- who is aware androids are alive -- is doing his job.

"That android… [North] You seem to really care about her… You don't want her to die, do you?" - Richard Perkins

...and if the lover status isn't there

"You could have what you've always dreamed of." - Richard Perkins

In Perkins' eyes, it's about national security. Androids have killed humans (Partners/Stormy Night/Broken -- even if Markus didn't actually kill Leo or Carl, that's what the public thinks -- Zlatko/Spare Parts/etc. too many chapters to mention,) destroyed public property (Capitol Park,) hijacked media (The Stratford Tower,) demonstrated illegally (Freedom March,) etc. Not to mention that androids are superior to humans in every way and nothing tells Perkins that they won't eventually get violent if taking the peaceful route.

Yet his knowing androids feel makes him (as Zlatko) a million times worse than Gav.

"'Could always try roughing it up a little. After all, it’s not human…" - Gavin Reed

Meaning Gav doesn't think they're alive (unlike Zlatko and Perkins.)

Gav isn't the only character I (partly) defend on shit like this. I just defend the others 'less' bc 1.) they're worse, and 2.) they don't get nearly as much undeserved vitriol as Gav does. Something that's legitimately insane bc, again, they're way worse by a longshot and I'll explain why down below.

Con stans (fandom majority) are thinking emotionally instead of logically

ppl hate/envy Gav bc he's a conventionally attractive white man (you don't see a lot of Todd, Perkins, Zlatko, Leo, and Allen fans even if there are a minuscule few bc they're not conventionally attractive)

Funny that we don't see a lot of hate for Amanda. An AI or not, she's the worst influence in Con's life with her emotional manipulation. Something way worse than physical abuse. I wonder why... (not really bc *cough* you apparently can't say anything bad about a black woman without being racist/misogynistic *cough*) Ofc there are some ppl that aren't afraid to speak up against her, but it's nothing compared to the shit Gav gets.

It's also why I'm not talking about North often bc the majority are (rightfully) defending her already. My voice isn't needed there. Every single person -- other than me, in my experience -- who defends Gav is being spinelessly backhanded about it.

Defending someone doesn't mean you agree with them or condone their actions. It's simply proof that one has the empathy/critical thinking skills to understand their point of view. Something lacking nowadays.

[franceblr]

i feel like whenever sasori and deidara fight, sasori is the first to immediately disengage and distance himself. sometimes, if he puts his foot down hard enough, he can rein in deidara’s dissatisfaction and need for attention, aborting his tantrums before they turn into a fully fledged war. sometimes, he’ll barely dignify deidara with detached and noncommittal replies, fueling his fits to the point deidara’s chasing him around the house and screaming, cornering him until sasori turns around and strikes deidara with the most vicious, carefully crafted jab or accusation, completely shocking deidara into silence. sasori feels a momentaneous sick sense of satisfaction at the fragility of his wrath, the way deidara crumbles when he's faced with the harsh truth. deidara never sees it coming; he never has time to brace himself against the devastation and anger sasori’s words provoke. sasori just accumulates discontentment in silence, his irritation visible but despite deidara's prodding and pleading, never elaborating on it; shuts deidara out and stonewalls him until he drops it. so when his anger gets the best of him, and he whips around sharp with cruel words, they're both surprised.

the worst part is that he means it, means everything he says, deidara knows. it’s just that usually he’s able to deescalate the conflict and disengage from deidara’s tantrums and childish taunting before it gets to that. deidara doesn’t know what he hates more: being ignored, or being deliberately shattered by sasori’s purposeful words. he’s a hypocrite like that: he cannot stand sasori not taking him seriously, not heeding his feelings, refusing to communicate with him and hoping deidara will just get the hint and get over it, deal with it alone and quit trying to goad sasori into opening up to him; instead, deidara provokes sasori until he inevitably loses his composure and filter, poking the scorpion every time until he inevitably gets stung, and then cries about it. it's an old song and dance: if deidara could be less immature, he’d stop antagonizing sasori; if sasori could be less selfish, he’d listen to deidara and validate his feelings. but as their ego and limitations will it, fights between them usually end with deidara furiously sobbing on the bed, and sasori seething in another room. usually, one of them inevitably yields first, and tries to make amends: if deidara manages to calm down, he’ll go to sasori and apologize, both aware he’ll strike the match again and again; sasori will accept and the hatchet will be formally buried, even if sasori will continue to give him the cold shoulder for a couple of days. he's not a forgiving person, and his anger takes a toll on him too. if sasori miraculously boils over his venomous anger first, he’ll go to their room and tiredly try to soothe deidara’s anguish, shush him with quiet apologies he halfheartedly means.

because even if sasori’s anger is more stubborn, quiet and insistent, deidara’s emotions are like a nuclear bomb, burning bright and destroying everything in their wake in a brief flash, and once that lid is blown off, deidara himself doesn’t know how to handle them. sasori doesn't know how deidara lives feeling everything with such vicious intensity: doesn't understand why he sets himself up for failure every time, knowing sasori will break his heart yet still challenging him to a fight he cannot win: sasori is shielded by an impenetrable armour of detachment and indifference, his skin is hardened by grief and loss. deidara is all exposed nerves and bruised ego, his skin too soft and tempting. sasori can't wrap his head around the fact that after all this time, deidara still hasn't understood just how disadvantaged and powerless he is, running into everything unarmed and vulnerable. it's tragic and ugly, deidara sobbing with childish abandon, his anger so jagged and sharp it hurts him more than it hurts sasori. he struggles against sasori when he comes to calm him down hours later, eventually settling, strained and exhausted. has to rebuild himself up each time anew, his compulsive need for sasori never waning.

they’re fundamentally incompatible, sasori is too guarded and deidara is too desperate; yet their determination to always come back to each other is what makes them unfit to be with anyone but the other. there’s a fundamental sadomasochism that permeates every aspect of their relationship, and despite its toxicity, it couldn’t be any other way for either of them. so sasori stays, even when deidara’s screaming, and crying, and hurting sasori and himself, picking fights in a desperate attempt to get sasori to show him he cares and needs deidara as much as deidara needs him. so deidara lets sasori hold him, even when sasori is cold, even when sasori ignores him, treats him like a child, unwilling to change for him but willing to tear into him without restraint.

[doodleempireofsticks]

In defense of Victim: a character analysis

OK before I start

Yeah, I know. I'm a hypocrite lol but, hear me out here.

After really analysing everything Victim has done...I can't say they're actually that bad anymore. Their actions seem extreme but they're actually kind of justified.

First of all, let's look at what most the fandom hates them for. The fight with The Chosen One in The Box. It's hard to watch and they certainly went all out, but it's not like Chosen isn't a dangerous character. He was a villian himself after all.

Chosen and Dark's actions likely led to many sticks losing their homes on websites and getting hurt in the crossfire, even if he was trying to free them. At worst, these actions were deliberate, at least on Dark's part. And how would Victim know if Chosen actually wanted to do this?

And I wouldn't be surprised if Victim knows.

In episode 30 of avm, King sees the first Animation vs Minecraft on a rocket corp TV

And Second sees the first Animator vs Animation during Animation vs YouTube (maybe that's why he recognises them? Theory for another day)

So is it that much of a stretch to say that Victim is somewhat aware of Chosen's past? Especially since they have some kind of access to YouTube.

Obviously this is a bit of a stretch, if Victim had seen Animator Vs Animation V they wouldn't have needed to use the memory reader on Chosen. But they must have known something about him to know that he has a connection with Alan, so it's possible.

On a similar note, they treat Second very differently. Sure, he's a less powerful stick in their eyes so they don't pay much attention to him, but he's still treated with respect.

First of all, he's left unpaused in his cell, despite the fact they already had him paused, they chose to let him at least some freedom by undoing it.

Also, when he was put in a box, it was a lot less violent.

Even when they were testing his powers the employees just...asked him. It was not forceful in any way and no one laid a finger on him.

Even when he was captured they were being easy on him

Agent Smith had second selected,he could have done anything, but all he did was spin then kick him and pause him immediately after. He was hitting him as little as possible, just trying to end the fight.

Then there's the last scene if The Box, probably the most unjustified part. But, here's the thing, Victim only has bad memories of Alan. He hurt and then tried to kill them. I think they believe Yellow is some kind of conspirator with Alan, maybe a lackey of sorts? Whatever they think, I wouldn't be surprised if this is some kind of misunderstanding. They may even be sympathetic towards Dark after seeing him be attacked by the cursor too.

Obviously this doesn't mean they're in the right. They're really not. But their actions have some kind of justice about them, and I don't think they're trying to be evil, so they actually have a good chance of being redeemed. And I can understand them now, so I at least don't hate them anymore.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I'll go back to fanart now (this was super out of my comfort zone and not the best explanation but I just wanted to say it).

[andyfire122]

Fictober24 day 27 "Let me remind you."

“Look, I’m well aware not all Irkens are the same.”

The newly named Ves just looked at Nar blankly when he decided to speak up. Most have been giving her space since that last incident. Zes woke up so that wasn't all bad. Of course, she is mostly asleep a lot of the time.

You win some you lose some. Makes sense seeing them all afraid of me..of us. Fuck, was this what Zes had to deal with before she came to Earth?

She sighed. “Yeah, and what is your point.”

“My point is that even with that pak I had thought it was just you there Gaz. I’m still willing to get you back to your planet, but I have people under my care. Having someone who could take over your body that can cause that much of a massacre is unnerving.” The vortain is trying to approach this like a leader. Though he is the adult here.

Zes freaked them out when she woke up. However, after that, I couldn't move without everything feeling like a ball of pain for a week. Ass should be grateful.

Always a bunch of hypocrites with the Resisity...nothing has changed. Fine.

Hearing that voice in her head she felt a tug at her consciousness. Before it felt like being shoved aside while someone was using her body. This time felt like Zes was asking for permission. She just gave in. This is probably something she will need to get used to anyway.

There was this selfish part of her that would fight with all she had to keep her best friend just with her. It would feel too lonely if they merged. She knew some hybrids became like combos of who they were.

Their eyes gave a pinker shine as they walked over to Nar. “Let me remind you. Your organization was full of hypocrites and those eager for blood. Long before all this officially started. Though you want to know if I'm something to deal with. My intentions will be clear. If I find one reason Gaz isn't safe traveling with you. We're leaving. If we get stopped by your men, they will be dealt with. If we need to escape, I will set fire to your hanger bay... again.”

Seems when Zes takes over their voice gives a lighter tone to it. Nar just took a step back as it was very obvious this wasn’t the girl he was talking to before. Though he paused at the last sentence. “I see...how old were you?”

Saying that struck a chord with both girls. Saying it in the past tense like that just makes it all seem final. It was the truth. Zes was someone before all this, and she died.

“I was 13. Turns out trying to live your life doesn’t work out so well." The wave of guilt coming didn't come from Gaz. She just wanted to switch knowing exactly where her friend's mind was going with this.

Like everything from her life was just a punishment for existing.

Don't you dare go there! I’m..not leaving. I know...I know you still need me.

Nar just blinked for a moment. “No wonder...Zes?”

With that comment, she was back in control of her body. Though it made her head feel like she was having the worst migraine ever. There is probably a scientific explanation about how two sets of brain waves are overloading her.

“Fuck, you know Nar. Your shit for talking to actual children. The fact that people like you and this entire universe can make someone like Zes this way. She connects with others so easily. You all fucked up a perfectly good pair of girls.”

She added herself to the list as she stormed off. It was already a habit to lock the door to the room she was sleeping in. Since Zes went apeshit it's been needed. All she could do was curl up in the bed and try to wait for the pain to go away.

At least they were almost home. When they get home it will feel a little better. Maybe listen to her dad come up with ideas to help with what her body is becoming.

Just need to make it back home. She owed it to Dib.