#not like you can't dissociate your way out of that even in prison to be fair

[keepthetension]

you know what i can't stop thinking about? porjai, how are you doing?

because she was family enough for dead parent anniversary visits with mhok and rung. she was bringing rung her favorite food on that day (did she live with them?). and even after all that, she didn't break up with mhok. he was the one who ended the relationship; she was trying to keep it going. she's family enough that she's still there for mhok after he gets out

and there's - understandably! - a lot of discussion about mhok's trauma and grief but: porjai loved rung, too. porjai was the one who found rung's body. she had to be the one to tell mhok what she found! did she make the funeral arrangements? was mhok able to?

and now she's living in that house again???? fucking hell i hope there's more than one bathroom

i doubt we're getting a deep dive on porjai's mental health, and this is not even touching on the pregnant-with-my-cheater-ex's-baby thing but HOLY SHIT GIRL ARE YOU OKAY

and like of course two people can experience the same trauma and react in different ways. and support is one of the key factors in trauma recovery, so maybe she had friends and family by her side, maybe she had money for therapy, where we know mhok had none of this

or maybe she, too, simply has bills to pay and shit to do, and doesn't have the luxury of not being okay

[on-a-lucky-tide]

HELLO!

Thought of asking you bc I ADORE your writing, the way you write the NikPrice ship is by far my fav, I would've wrote it myself but I love your way of writing more heh.

BUT price, having a nightmare or ptsd attack at night, but not waking nik up nor does he wake up. Prob just stirred a bit. But he doesn't end up telling him, cause hes a big strong boy he doesn't want to show nik how vulnerable he really is. But nik notices how tense he is during the day, which ofc worries him. Que the emotional conversation maybe a cry and long hug :3

If you haven't written something like this anyway! Also ty for the follow made me giggle and die a bit inside from happiness <3

Thank you for this prompt and your fic is below, but! Please write. Write your heart out, bud. No one can write like you do and the world is richer for having your art in it. So please. Write this too. Even if just for yourself.

Price spent three years in a Gulag. That leaves a mark.

cw: PTSD, nightmares, mention of torture, dissociation, depersonalisation, shameless canon blending.

"Prisoner 627, confirm which names on this list are undercover operatives."

"Price, Jonathan, Captain, 9-0-5-1-2-1-0."

A rib cracked. He spat blood onto the table next to the file. The ropes around his wrists tightened.

"Prisoner 627, confirm which names on this list are undercover operatives."

"Price, Jonathan, Captain, 9-0-5-"

He bit through his bottom lip when the fist landed. Someone stepped forward to intervene. You don't break their faces because then they can't talk. Interrogation 101. He coughed. More blood, and they yanked him upright by the hair.

"Svyazat yego."

The chair clattered to the floor as he was pulled from it. The ropes cut only for his hands to be chained above his head. The same knife sliced his shirt off, the rags falling around his shoulders. Metal tools rattled to his left, the embers from the nearby fire stirred by an iron.

"Last chance, prisoner 627," his interrogator held the list of names in front of his face. He recognised five of them. He had attended the wedding of one, "confirm which names on this list are undercover operatives."

"Price, Jonathan, Cap--"

His voice broke as pain tore through his back.

Price woke tangled in damp sheets, his body paralysed. The scream couldn't even rip out of his throat because his lungs needed air to make noise. Through sheer force of will, he drew his first shuddering breath, pulling himself back from the precipice.

See: digital clock. 04:30.

Taste: dry mouth. Need a drink.

Feel: hot, no; cold... both? Damp sheets.

Hear: breathing, not mine.

Price sat up slowly, forcing movement through his limbs like he was prying them from manacles. The next breath was easier. Burned less. He dropped his face into his palm and shivered in the cold. Feel: cold, he updated on his mental map.

Breathing, not mine. Price looked over his shoulder to the sleeping face of his lover. Half nuzzled into the pillows, his black hair splashed over crisp white cotton, Nikolai was serene. A small mercy.

All the manuals would tell you about wounded soldiers waking screaming and begging in the night, perhaps wetting themselves in terror at the ghosts haunting the inside of their skull. They warned against storing weapons nearby, of sleeping in the same bed as your loved ones in case you lashed out. There was a laundry list of suggested therapies and interventions too.

Sometimes, Price wished he woke screaming, because at least then he would know he was alive. His throat and lungs would burn as he roared, his hands would flail and he would be left panting, raw, but fighting. Alive. Now, in the numb silence, he wasn't sure.

He touched his cold wrist with cold fingers and just felt... cold. Like an absence of something. Prisoner 627. No name, no identity; a nothingness stored in a castle with hundreds of other voids where people should have been. Everything human about them stolen away until just the cold and the pain remained.

Price stumbled from the bed, his legs barely working as he groped his way out of his bedroom. He had to sleep with the doors open these days, even on base. Even if it was just a crack, a sliver, he still needed to be able to lift his head and see an escape. A beyond the little box room of his quarters. Not imprisoned, not restrained.

His feet registered the change from carpet to tile as he navigated his way down the hall to his flat's little kitchenette. Lit by the full moon streaming in through the balcony door, Price managed to fill the kettle and set it to boil.

There was a small blue light inside - one of those modern glass varieties that showed all the bloody limescale on the inside - and it illuminated Price's face against the black laminate of the back splash behind the hob. Price stared at the phantom image, blue and featureless, and saw nothing of himself.

He remembered being rescued, watching the castle fall to the joint task force attacking it, but when you spent three years bleeding in a place, did all of you really ever get to leave? When they spent those three years chipping away at you, breaking parts off, what was left to bring back at all?

As he stared at the ghostly blue outline of his own face, he felt a disconnect. A hollowness where that familiarity with self should be. Lost in the cold and the dark. Prisoner 627.

The kettle clicked loudly in the silence and he startled. His heart beat hard against his rib cage, felt like a distant echo, and he drew another deep sigh. Numb fingers pawed at the cupboards and he found his Liverpool FC mug, the one his sister had got him for his birthday while he'd still been in training at Sandhurst. There was a chip missing out the rim, dark stains and scrapes in the ceramic at the bottom that would never wash out; evidence of hundreds of cups drunk, a small shard of a life lived. An anchor to himself.

As he poured the water over the tea bag and dumped four teaspoons of sugar in, Price fluttered his fingers through the steam, rubbing his thumb through the dampness it left on the tips and letting the sensation crackle through his nerves. He drew another breath and muttered, "Price, Jonathan, Captain..." Prisoner 627.

He cupped both hands around the mug and carried it slowly, stumbling, towards the balcony window. The sky wasn't quite dark anymore, but a fuzzy, ashen grey. His eyes turned east. And he waited.

Waited...

Unmoving. Frozen in place. Like the cold had taken root and turned him to stone. The only things that kept him anchored were the cooling mug of tea clasped between two hands and the yellow light bleeding over the rooftops of the Clydeside.

The sun chased the dark away across the sky, bleeding an ombre of fire into the midnight black. With the sun came the heat. He couldn't feel it though. One hand left the mug, alive with warmth, and played in the dust motes illuminated by the morning light. They whirled around his fingers in white spirals, untouchable light.

He turned the key in the balcony doors and staggered outside, thrusting his arm into the dappled orange light passing through his neighbours fluttering laundry. "Price, Jonathan, Captain, 9-0-" he leaned over, and--

"John!"

Nikolai's hand wrapped his elbow, pure, scorching heat and strength, and it knocked the breath from Price's lungs. He nearly dropped his mug, but Nik caught that too, scooping beneath it as he drew Price to him in a bear hug.

His ear fell against Nik's chest, listening to his heart thundering on the inside. Ba-dm-ba-dm. Price's hand lifted and buried itself in dark chest hair, feeling it run between his fingers, soft, warm. The sensation rolled through him, cracking away the ice, and he turned his face into it with a shivering gasp.

Alive.

I'm alive.

The mug clattered on the glass surface of the little balcony table they had smoked at only the night before, Price lost in his thoughts while Nikolai had watched him pensively from the other chair. Both big hands now free, one stroked up his back to grasp his neck, and he shuddered again.

Nik looked terrified, his usually calm eyes blown wide, glistening. "You nearly fell," Nik said, so softly, and yet so clear. So real. Price touched his lips, relaxing into his hold.

"Was fine, Nik. Just got a bit carried away with the sunrise."

Nik glanced at the rooftops, his brows knitted together. "It is... pretty, but better viewed from inside, hm?"

"Yeah, s'pretty chilly out here, ain't it?"

Nik hesitated before he let go and Price missed the warmth of his arms immediately. He followed inside, let Nik pull him onto the sofa and drag one of the big fleece blankets over them. The heat of his body as it closed around Price's burned with intensity and a stuttering gasp broke out of his throat. Nik only held him tighter.

Every moment he laid there, wrapped in the bed warm scent, a piece of Jonathan Price thawed. From the tips of his toes to the cheek pressed to Nik's chest, warmth and feeling returned, bringing with it a sense of reality and connection to the world. To himself.

"Why were you on the balcony, John?" Nik asked. Price got a sense that he was afraid of the answer, and wasn't entirely convinced he would be given the truth anyway.

"In Petrovpavlosk, my cell faced east," Price said. "Would watch the sun rise every morning. It was like... No matter what they did, no matter what they broke away, if I could feel the sun on my skin, then I was still alive. Still me. Not just a dead man walkin'."

Nik sighed, burying his face in Price's hair for a few deep breaths. "You thought you were there again?"

"Dunno if I ever really left, Nik."

They held each other in silence as the light continued to creep into the flat, illuminating the empty bottles of beer they had left on the coffee table to clear up. "I sensed these past weeks you have been struggling, I know the anniversary of your escape is soon, and I feared you were..."

"That I was gonna throw myself off an' give Beryl a fright."

"John, do not joke about these things..."

"'m sorry, I... I wasn't gonna do it, Nik. Swear to you. I..." he struggled upright a little and Nik let him go reluctantly, "I struggle in the cold. The winter is... I dunno... it's like the cold makes me think I'm still there. That I never got out. That this," he glanced around the flat, his voice cracking as he spoke, "is just some dream my mind made up to escape to. I... I didn't know whether I was real, whether I was me... or... I didn't... Nik, I didn't know whether I was even alive, I..."

Nik's fingernails raked through his beard and he leaned into it. Felt them graze gently over the soft skin beneath his ear, and then into his hairline to draw him down. He yielded to the kiss, mouth opening desperately to let Nik in; he pawed at Nik's chest, stealing stuttering gasps as their tongues worked together.

He didn't notice the tears until he pulled back and one dripped from his chin to Nik's chest. "You are here, solnyshko. Right here, with me," Nik whispered. "Captain Jonathan Price, serial number 9-0-5-1-2-1-0," Nik took the hand on his chest and placed a kiss to the knuckles, "Bravo Six, you are home."

Price crumpled into Nik's arms and his shoulders shuddered as he sobbed. No longer mute, no longer cold, no longer frozen out of his own fucking body, the raw pain of it sunk its claws in, overwhelming and savage.

Nik's hands stroked down Price's back to the burn scars at the base; an uneven, mottled pattern that stretched over his right hip. The sensation was sporadic, some sensitive, some numb, but the muscles underneath still seized with pain. Nik placed his warm palm over them, chasing away the last shadow of Petrovpavlosk hanging over him.

As the morning ticked over and the rest of the block woke up, Nik dragged Price back to the kitchen and pushed a pan into his hands. He stood behind him, huge body looming as a bulwark, chin on Price's head, hands caressing his belly and chest, as the eggs cooked.

Home, Price's mind offered weakly, battered and bruised from its fight with the cold. Home.

[n3xii]

How do people see you vs how you see yourself

This pick a card reading explores how you see yourself vs how others view you. I will also be giving guided advice from the cards on how to be your most authentic self, pls enjoy. To tip my cashapp is sarahx2x, my paypal is teahuk, for personal readings check my pinned post 《♡》

Pile one

How you see yourself -

You struggle with identity and knowing who you are, so when it comes to how you percieve yourself you're a bit confused and even anxious. You see yourself as a mystery, that there's missing parts of you that you can't access. You feel like you're an incomplete puzzle, but pile one you need to know that you're whole as you are. Your identity is being subtly revealed to you overtime and you're slowly learning who you are. Fear and illusion has been gatekeeping key aspects of who you are making you feel incomplete and scared to be yourself, and you're in the process of confronting those fears so that you can see who you truly are. Other people's projections may be in thr mix here as well and confusing you even more. This is a time to tune out from what others have to say about who you are. You may feel confused and even afraid to look in the mirror, you may feel dissociated from the reflection you see, but overtime you're gonna come to love yourself. those fears and illusions you've had about yourself are gonna be the things you embrace wholeheartedly. You're not broken or bad, your heart is pure and you're just finding your way through the darkness, I can't wait for you to meet yourself.

How others see you-

You may not realize it, but others see that you're bondaged to a sense of self that isn't who you really are. They see you as a victim of your own fears and illusions, or even a victim of the narrow mindsets of other people. They feel you are trapped under pressure or an invisible prison that keeps you from expressing who you are. I feel that these people love you, they want you to see who you really are and embrace your uniqueness. They earnestly hate to see you be fully controlled like a puppet to whatever it is that keeps you from being yourself. They want to help you but sometimes don't know how. They know deep down that this is an internal journey that you have to complete and that it's ultimately none of their buisness to tell you who you are. They do care about you though, and can't wait to support you in your journey.

How you can embrace your authenticity-

You embrace your authenticity by embracing your passion. Your passion is gonna strike you like lightening and give you a jolt of courage, inspiration and a little bit of insanity. It's gonna expose and eliminate any fear your currently have. You're letting illusions and false perceptions hold you back from your raw, creative power. Through embracing what lights your heart up, you will overcome previous blockages. You will find yourself in the heat of what you earnestly enjoy in life, let passion reveal itself to you overtime especially if you don't know what it is that you love. You will know, and when you know you will be released from the self imposed illusions of identity.

Pile two

How you see yourself-

You like to demonize yourself don't you! But i think its because others have. You have demonized yourself to the point that have become the villain in your own mind, and this is partly because other people have done this to you, either way you are ciritcal and quite cruel to yourself. You may feel like you've taken on the identity of the villain, you see yourself as the antagonist and that there's nothing you can do to redefine your reputation. The way other people react to you and treat you gives you the impression that you're some kind of adversary, but in reality you're not coddling people with fake kindness.

How others see you-

Others see you as a rival in some sense. I'm seeing slot of people compare themselves to you alot, there's something about you that inspires others to step up their game. But some may be in a unrequited conflict with you as well. You make people feel as if they're enough because there's something about you that others admire but feel is missing in themselves. You have qualities and characteristics others want to have but don't. They see you as a rival, they see you as someone who is uniquely set apart from the rest.

How you can embrace your most authentic self-

Difficult transitions are trials that feel unbearable in the moment but serve us longterm. Embrace change. Be open to receiving help and support from the universe and from your spirit guides. You're crossing passages and encountering new mindsets and this in turn challenges you to change the way you think, so be progressive. Don't hold onto old thought patterns. You don't have to cling to old ways of thinking. Sit down right now and make a list of beliefs you have about yourself and others that you feel is old and tired. Be honest and thoughtful. Then rip the paper and mentally commit to leaving those ideas behind. Old beliefs weigh us down, we don't need to carry that old luggage with us into new cycles. As you let old ideas fall away you will encounter ideas and beliefs that feel more authentic to who you are.

Pile three

How you see yourself

Like pile two, you are very hard on yourselves. You have demonized yourself but in a different way than pile two- you have attached yourself to limiting beliefs and ideas that hold you back from utlizing your full potential. You've identified yourself with fears, insecurity and victim hood. You see yourself as powerless and under the tutelage of situations people or circumstances. You've essentially given power to everything but yourself.

How others see you

It's funny because others see all your potiental. They see all your talents, skills, and willpower and they can even envision you directing that will in the right places in their mind. But you don't. You let other people and situations decide who you are and what you're gonna do. People earnestly see you with all your potential, and wish you saw the same in yourself. I'm seeing people be like "if I could do that I would be set for life" meaning people see something in you that they wish they had, because if they had it they think they would know what to do with that talent. They see you as someone with so much willpower and natural skill, what's stopping you from seeing these qualities in yourself? What resources aren't you using? For some of you, others see you as someone with the perfect resources to make shit happen. Whether you have the talent, the money, the familial support or even the beauty. You're sitting here thinking that you're not able to be who you want to be and achieve your desires but others are wishing they had what you had. Appreciate your resources no matter how thay may manifest in your life, and have an idea of how to use them.

How to embrace your authentic self-

Remember who you used to be and honor that person. Celebrate how far you've come. You've achieved alot whether you regonize it or not. Make a list of everything you've achieved in the past few years, big or small. Then purposely do something nice for yourself. You don't realize how far you've come, you really don't. Sometimes to see our full potential we have to see how far we've made it. And sometimes spirit wants us to celebrate our wins (big or small) so that we can fully appreciate the next chapter we're gonna experience. Spirit wants you to see everything you've accomplished despite whatever circumstances you've faced in the past, because you're currently allowing a current circumstance direct the path you're on. Spirit just wants you to see all of your accomplishments in the context of the present moment because your past is your inspiration. You've come along way.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 40: The Maestro's Mark

Prev > Masterlist > Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, body control, captivity, human auction, abuse, burning, branding, mouth whump, forced self-harm, dissociation, this one's kind of a doozy isn't it

"Sir -- " Fitz's voice had returned to him, and he was dismayed to find it shaky and weak, much like his knees. Beside him, Miss Lily was gripping his chain so hard he thought she might crumble it to dust. "Sir -- who was -- "

"The Maestro, an old and powerful vampire lord. My sire, and Alexander's sire as well. The one responsible for turning us into vampires," Miss Lily said, picking him up into a princess carry. "I wasn't expecting him to be here. He normally does not purchase his thralls."

"Is he --" Fitz faltered with the amount of questions he wanted to ask, before settling on the most important one. "Is he cruel, sir?"

She hesitated to answer as she carried him backstage and out into the hallway. "...Yes," she finally said. "Yes, he is cruel. I'm sorry."

She sounded like she meant the apology, and Fitz's too-short life flashed before his eyes.

"What should I do, sir?"

"There's nothing you can do now. Nothing you can do but be obedient. Try to find the private places in your mind to retreat to, places where he can't reach. Eat whatever you're offered when you can. Sleep as much as possible. And never be defiant, even for the smallest matter. The price will never be worth it."

"...You seem as though you know what you're talking about, sir."

"I was his thrall, once."

It was a colorful and loud nightmare as Fitz was carried through the bustling hallway filled with vampires and their newly purchased thralls, talking and laughing and showing off their fashions. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he would open them, he'd be somewhere else. The lumpy couch in his drafty, shared apartment. His dressing room backstage. Even the opulent prison of his bedroom back at his family's home.

He'd found that unbearably oppressive at the time. Perhaps he'd been a fool to leave, after all.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in a small room primarily occupied by a desk and a few chairs. A vampire in a fashionable black dress, her neck and ears dripping with jewels, entered the room. "Oh my, Lily, your expression is better suited for a funeral. You've sold your little project for an extravagant amount of cash. Whatever could be the problem?"

Miss Lily's face was sour as a lemon. "You know very well how I feel about my sire, Colette."

"His money will spend as good as everyone else's. If you ask me, you were a little too attached to this thrall."

"I don't care one iota about this thrall," she said, her grip tightening on Fitz's shoulders. "I just think that no one, not even a thrall, deserves the displeasure of serving my sire."

"And yet, I assume you'll want your share of the earnings."

"And yet."

The door opened, and Fitz's new owner entered the room. Perhaps it was Fitz's fevered imagination, but even the gas lamps seemed to flicker in response to the foreboding aura. He gave Miss Lily a small nod, and Fitz felt her fingers dig in tighter, painful.

"It's truly an honor to do business with you, Maestro, sir,"  said Miss Colette, settling behind the desk. "Now, then, sir, you'll owe eleven thousand dollars, unless you require any additional services..."

"No, thank you." He was staring at Fitz now, and it felt like icicles sliding down his back. Fitz couldn't help the impulse to look away -- and realized that he couldn't. He was caught hopelessly in the web of power once more.

His master, as soon as the money was handed over. His master forever. There would be no escaping a man like this.

Never be defiant. The price will never be worth it.

Never be himself ever again.

No, he had to snap out of it. There had to be a way out of this. Some way to charm him, to appeal, to get them both on the same side. There had to be. Weaseling out of bad situations was one of his specialties.

The Maestro was reaching into his coat and pulling out a pouch of what looked to be actual golden coins, as if he were some kind of royalty. Miss Colette didn't seem to regard this as strange, taking the coins from the pouch and weighing them on a small scale. Satisfied with the amount, she handed him a contract to sign.

"Now, if the transaction is complete," he said, "please leave so I can discipline my spawn and my thrall."

"Of course, sir." Miss Colette filed out of the room immediately.

Fitz's protests and his screams died in his throat, along with his desperate impulses to flee anywhere. He was under his new master's power again, frozen in time. He'd never escape, of course, but it still hurt to not even be allowed to try first, to be trapped in a treacherous body that wouldn't obey even his smallest commands.

"Lily," he said, approaching her, and Fitz realized that Miss Lily was holding him in front of her as though Fitz could shield her from her sire. "This thrall has an excellent bloodline and potential. Why did you train him improperly and allow him to make an embarrassment of you?"

"He's a performer by nature, sire, as I'm sure you can see," said Miss Lily, and she sounded as subdued and fearful as Fitz was, a far cry from her confident nature when enthralling him. "He is fully trained and obedient. I simply thought it was amusing to allow him to continue to perform, sire. Plenty of vampires would desire a thrall for entertainment. I don't think he's an embarrassment. It took skill to render him obedient while keeping his personality intact."

If Fitz could move, he would be nodding vigorously, appreciative of Miss Lily's defense.

"Yes. Performance is his nature, that much is true just by looking at him. But you need to be in better control of the thralls in your care, not allow them to preen and pose on the auction block." He reached past Fitz to touch Lily's hair, tucking loose strands of her hair into her bun. Fitz could feel her hands tremble. "Oh, child, I worry that I am too lenient on your soft heart. I don't understand what I did to be cursed with two spawn so gifted and yet so foolish."

"Thank you for your patience with us, sire."

"Indeed. And because you do often delight me, I will allow the punishment to be light."

"Yes, sire. Thank you, sire."

"Here. Take my knife." The Maestro held out a silver knife in a white-gloved hand, and Lily let go of Fitz's arm to take it. "You will find an unoccupied bathroom. You will remove your dress so that you do not bloody it. You will cut out your tongue. You will clean yourself and your surroundings thoroughly. You will then put your dress back on and join my other wayward spawn in the parlor."

Fitz's eyes widened at the description of the punishment, the only movement he could manage. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He couldn't do either. Miss Lily let go of his arms, and as she exited the room, head bowed low, he had the desperate, irrational impulse to stop her. True to her advice, she showed no sign of defiance, even when her sire was asking her to do the unthinkable -- as a "light" punishment. From the hard look in her eyes, he had no doubt that she was going to do it.

The door clicked shut. And Fitz was alone with his master.

The strange power forced Fitz's head up to look into the Maestro's eyes as he drew near, like a puppet on strings. With a surprisingly gentle touch, a gloved hand reached out and ruffled his hair, then hooked a finger under his chin and inspected his face from each angle. A soft finger traced down his neck and exposed collarbone, but there was no indication from his heavy aura that the vampire wanted to feed. There was no indication of any desire at all. Just control. Pure control.

What could he do to sway a man like this? He recognized his look, the man who was used to being the most powerful in the room, the kind who couldn't spare a scrap of tolerance for anyone else. No humor, no imagination. The kind of person Fitz usually avoided, or brought up on stage only to tease and get a response from the audience. On stage, Fitz held the power.

His new owner was center stage, now, and not one to relinquish the spotlight easily.

"Fitzwilliam de Hastings," said the Maestro in that musical voice. "You will answer my questions honestly. First -- do you fear me?"

Fitz felt his tongue loosen. This, at least, was an easy question. "Yes, Master."

"You are correct to. At least you are not that sort of fool. Now, tell me -- did you wish for my spawn Alexander to purchase you?"

He recalled the pathetic, fleeting hope he'd had when he'd flirted with Mr. Alexander in the showroom. Yes, yes he had, but he suspected that was the wrong answer. What had worked on Mr. Alexander wouldn't work here -- he needed to work a new angle. "I did think that at first, Master, but then you made that impeccable entrance. You're clearly the vampire all other vampires respect -- it's an honor to have been purchased by you."

The Maestro nodded, then removed one of his gloves.

A percussive crack rang through Fitz's ears, and it took his brain a moment to catch up and realize that he had been slapped hard across the face.

"Do not ever lie to me, child, and do not insult me with your cheap flattery. This is your only warning," his master said, in precisely the same tone as before, not betraying anger or disappointment or any emotion at all. "Try again. Did you wish for my spawn Alexander to purchase you?"

"Yes, Master," said Fitz immediately, praying that he wouldn't incur any further punishment. His tongue. He'd ordered Miss Lily to cut out her own tongue. And if his master wanted to do the same to him, there'd be nothing he could do about it, his very body out of his control.The thought of being permanently rendered mute, unable to joke and flirt and tease and perform --

It hadn't settled in before, had it? What it truly meant to be in thrall to a vampire. Between Miss Lily's mesmerism and his own hubris, he'd imagined himself getting out of this by charming the vampire, carving himself a better life through wit and charisma, as he'd always managed. But these vampires were so much more powerful than him and always would be. What good is wit against a creature who can control your body on a whim, or take your mind away with a word?

He couldn't save himself. No one was coming to save him. There was only him and his cruel new master, and he was unable even to express the despair bubbling up within him. A fate so much worse than death, inescapable.

The re-gloved hand stroked Fitz's cheek gently in the place that was still stinging from the slap. "Despite your ill manners, you have potential, Fitzwilliam. My darling Lily saw that in you, no doubt. A born performer with a compelling presence. Sharp minded. And so, so beautiful. A pity about your headstrong nature," he said. "But you needn't concern yourself. I only need to patiently carve away your imperfections. And I am a very patient vampire."

"Thank you, Master," said Fitz, who had never been more frightened of so-called praise in his life.

"More importantly, I believe you are the key to finally breaking my Alexander's will."

"...I don't understand, sir."

"Thralls aren't meant to understand, child. Thralls are meant to obey. And I have decided what young Alexander's lesson will be." He drew his hand away. "I will give you to Alexander."

Fitz couldn't help but furrow his brow, confused. That couldn't be right. 

"It will be a test for him. One that he will fail."

The Maestro pulled a small metal cylinder from his coat. He carefully lifted the glass from the lamp sitting on Miss Colette's desk, beckoning Fitz forward. Fitz felt himself sleepwalking towards his master, even as the Maestro dipped the metal object in the lamp's flame, even as Fitz realized with growing dread what was about to happen.

"He will forget you belong to me. He will desire to possess you, cherish you, perhaps even love you. He will believe he can rescue you from me. He will be incorrect. I will allow him to believe this, then I will take you from him, and I will break you, and suffering will be a teacher to you both."

Fitz's heart pounded.

"Kneel."

His puppeted body gracefully knelt upon the carpet, the crushed red velvet of his dress cushioning his legs, as he looked up in terror.

With a calm, unreadable expression, the Maestro pulled down the neckline of his ball gown and pressed the burning metal to Fitz's flesh, just below his collarbone.

He couldn't scream. He couldn't flinch. He couldn't fight or back away. He couldn't do anything but feel his eyes filling with tears as the white hot pain seared through his body.

Fitz barely even noticed when the brand was pulled away, because the pain hardly lessened. His master was examining his handiwork, and, seemingly satisfied, made Fitz's body stand.

There was no way Fitz could be standing through the shock and the pain, but the puppet strings controlling his every move made it so, forcing him to walk on weak and shaky legs.

"Now show your gratitude for my precious gift."

Fitz's body curtsied low. 

But Fitz's mind, flooded with pain and endorphins and magic, was traveling far away. Away from here, anywhere but here, anything but this. Anything but an inescapable descent into hell.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Well, wasn't that fun.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps

[allycat75]

Other characters in this junior high drama-mystery, that is so bad, CAA would convince our Boston Dumb Fuck it was a smart vehicle for him.

Because let's be honest, the crazy fan narrative is tissue paper thin and frankly uninspired. So who else we got!

The Publicist, who couldn't sell a sweater to a naked man in Winnipeg in the dead of winter and did no vetting of possible partner's problematic behavior. Did she think the fans would be that dumb because they saved him from a dick pic embarrassment? By the way, this is way worse that any dick pic.

The agents, looking for extra revenue streams now that their human trafficking pipeline has gotten too much exposure with the biggest client rotting in prison. Also include some (streaming) studios here who have deals with said agents and need their own additional revenue streams now that they figured out their existing business models don't work anymore, but are in need of a fourth yacht and 3rd private jet.

The ingenue who has been told her value is what is on the outside and how she can make older men feel. They will give her anything she wants and she doesn't have to work hard like the racially inferior, ugly and fat ones. It's not her fault everyone else is jealous. And if she doesn't get her way she acts like a petulant child and throws a tantrum until those around her capitulate.

The clout chasing friends, and possibly family. Whether it is for free trips, social media exposure, acting roles or just plain dickishness, they love taking advantage of their little cash cow, even if he looks sick, over worked, depressed and empty. Just keep smiling in them fancy photos while your "friend" slowly fades away. But then I guess the joke is on them, because, like the destruction described at the end of "The Lorax", "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

The lawyers who can't seem to get The Golden Boy out of a super shady contract. No morality clause? No milestone clauses where if it looks like the situation is causing either party damage they could bail? Seems to me some of the requirements reek of illegal behavior- bribery, blackmail/coersion, immigration violations, along with punative emotional damages (just read the GQ article and look at most any picture of him since last November and you can see what I mean).

And finally, we have The Golden Boy himself. The one who could do no wrong. But that was only because he "shushed" all warnings out of his head. Whether it was hubris, greed, carelessness, frivolity, gullibility, obfuscation or just plain stupidity, he got himself into this mess somehow and can't seem to get himself out of it. It has destroyed his relationship with his fans, his ability to find and choose good roles, taken the joy and sparkle out of his eyes, caused him to dissociate from his entire life and career (says it himself in the GQ article), given up to smoke pot and play video games all day like a loser, "married" someone with the exact opposite traits he claimed to desire and is now associated with the antisemitic racists he used to fight against, while displaying some nasty misogynistic behavior throughout the process. And for what?

Yeah, but it's his fans that are crazy.

[doumadono]

So this is sort of an emergency comfort request if I'm reading the thing right

So I'm a schizophrenic by diagnosis and recently and would like an emergency comfort for Hitoshi Shinsou comforting his agender partner ( please they them pronouns) after they have a bad dissociation fit + paranoia attack

So essentially what happed was I found out a friend was talking about me online. I had to go to them. A potential friendship was ruined with someone they were friends with. It set me into a fit of " who can I trust. Do I ha e real friends? Is everyone out to get me?? If they're talking about me I'm never going to get new friends. " and I just generally got very very uneasy and paranoid about how many people are currently talking about me. If I can trust people. Then I started to dissociate in my chair, couldn't get up to take my mental health meds nor could I even speak/sing ( a major coping skill for me ) for a solid hour.

So if you could write a drabble or a fic where Shinsou calms the reader down during an attack like mine I'd so kindly appreciate it. Bonus points if they've been together for a long time and he reassures them time and time again he won't live just because people and they themselves think they're a "monster".

A/N: hiya, my dear. I'm truly sorry to hear that you went through such a difficult and distressing experience. It's completely understandable to feel shaken and paranoid in the aftermath of discovering your friend's actions. Remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you, including me. Take your time to heal, and please don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone to talk to or just a listening ear. You are strong, and you will find your way through this challenging time, I'm sure about that ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Hitoshi Shinsou had known their struggles well. The two of them had been together for years, and while life had its ups and downs, their love had remained unwavering. He understood the intricacies of their condition, the unpredictable nature of dissociation and paranoia attacks. So, when the shadows of despair crept in, he was always there to shine a guiding light.

On a particularly tough evening, they found themselves lost in the labyrinth of their own mind, grappling with disorienting dissociation and suffocating paranoia. Shinsou was immediately at their side, his touch gentle as he guided them to the safety of their shared apartment.

Shinsou watched them with a mixture of concern and determination in his eyes. He knew that this was a battle they fought many times before, but each time was its own unique struggle. He saw the turmoil in their gaze, the desperation, and the desire to break free from the prison of their own mind.

The attack had begun like a quiet whisper, a subtle shift in their perception that grew louder and more chaotic with each passing moment. As they sat on the couch, the world around them seemed to blur and distort. The room that was once familiar now felt like a maze of shadows and uncertainties.

Dissociation was a cruel trickster. It stole away their connection to reality, leaving them adrift in a sea of disjointed thoughts and fragmented sensations. They felt detached from their own body, as though they were a mere observer in a world that was no longer theirs.

Paranoia crept in, like tendrils of darkness winding around their mind. Every sound, every shadow, and every thought seemed to conspire against them. Whispers of doubt became roaring cacophonies, and they couldn't escape the feeling that they were being watched, judged, and condemned.

Their heart raced, its beats like the drums of an impending storm. Their breath quickened, and the walls seemed to close in around them. It was as though the world had become a twisted funhouse, where mirrors distorted their reflection into monstrous shapes, and every corner concealed lurking threats. "I can't, I can't…" They were whispering, on and on.

They sat together with Shinsou on the couch, his partner's heart racing, and their thoughts spiraling. Shinsou, calm and unwavering, cupped their face in his hands, ensuring they made eye contact with him. "Hey, it's me," he said softly, his violet eyes locking onto theirs. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not going anywhere. You're not a monster, and you're not alone in this."

Their breaths trembled, but they held onto his presence like an anchor. "I just… I can't stop these thoughts. They're like a storm, tearing me apart." Their hands trembled, clutching onto the fabric of their clothes as if it were their only anchor to reality. "I'm nothing but a freaking monster. People see me as one, as well..."

Shinsou could see the silent plea in their eyes, a plea for help, for reassurance, for someone to guide them back to sanity. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. "I know, love. I know it feels overwhelming, but you're stronger than you think. You've fought through this before, and you'll do it again, and I'll be right here by your side every step of the way."

With a tenderness that only he possessed, Shinsou wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close. He felt the tension in their body slowly ease as he continued to speak soothingly, "You're not a monster, not to me, not to anyone who truly knows you. These moments don't define you, they're just a part of you, and I love all of you, every single part." With great care, he reached out, taking their hands in his, grounding them with his touch. "You're safe," he repeated, his voice unwavering.

His words were a lifeline, and you clung to them as if your life depended on it. Shinsou's voice was a melody of reassurance, drowning out the dissonance in your mind. "Remember, you have the power to break through this darkness. We'll do it together, just like we always have."

As minutes turned to hours, Shinsou remained by their side, patiently guiding them through the storm of their thoughts. He shared stories of the happier moments they'd experienced together, reminding them of the strength within them, and the love that surrounded them.

With time, the panic receded, and the dissociation loosened its grip. The sharp edges of paranoia softened, and the disorienting fog of dissociation started to lift. The attack raged on, but Shinsou remained steadfast, unwavering in his support. He whispered calming words and loving affirmations, reminding them that they were not alone, that they were not a monster, and that he loved them for everything they were.

Shinsou held them close, pressing another loving kiss to their forehead. "I'm proud of you, every single day," he whispered, as they lay in his comforting embrace. "You're never alone in this battle, and you'll always have me to hold you, even in your darkest moments."

In that moment, they knew that no matter how stormy the sea of their mind became, Shinsou would be their lighthouse, guiding them safely back to the shores of serenity and love.

[lizkreates]

TriStamp Livio Theories! (Spoilers)

SPOILERS AHEAD. I MEAN IT. TURN BACK NOW.

....

Alright, you've been warned.

This framing of the mask is VERY intentional. Visually this tells me this isn't Livio. It could be Razlo. Livio does not have a good reason to go after Vash, other than being told to by Legato. It feels off that he doesn't even say a thing to Wolfwood, his close childhood friend.

The beep from his mask (an audible cue) and his swirling eye, let us know something is UP. Maybe it is Razlo in control here.

Again with the framing. There is some evidence that this is Livio, just under mind control. If this is Razlo, he's eerily quiet here, because we know from Trigun Maximum, that he's boisterous and vulgar.

I admit it REALLY annoys me that they decided to go the silent route because in TriMax, when Livio does talk he makes it clear he is dedicated to the Eye of Michael. It's very possible Legato requested Ralzo to not speak, as a gag order just to fuck with Wolfwood.

The eye again. Just as Livio turned himself into the Eye of Michael to follow Wolfwood.

Here's some evidence that Livio is breaking through. We see the other side of his face as he speaks for the first time and says, "I have to catch up." In skill, sure. But consider this! He wants to catch up because home to him is where Wolfwood is.

When Wolfwood smacks Livio with the Punisher, he damages his mask, framing the non-mask side again. Just a thought, what if they needed to put a leash on Razlo? Like an inhibitor because he lacked restraint.

Why would Livio fight Wolfwood? Presuming they haven't seen each other since Conrad's prison. He's caught up to Wolfwood, here. Livio is a very capable fighter himself, he wouldn't be in the EOM if he couldn't measure up as well. Unless he means, if you've read TriMax, having the honor of being bestowed a Punisher like Wolfwood.

He looks so out of it like he's dissociating. But also the mask is damaged, and the mind control/inhibitor is slipping.

Of course, it's Vash who says this!!! He gives Wolfwood hope he can break through to Livio. AAHHHH, I could go off a tangent, but that's another post. It's clear even to Vash, this isn't someone in control of their actions.

Wolfwood gets through. The light in the mask fades.

And as the morning light breaks over the horizon, the light returns to Livio's eyes. ;_;

BUT THEN THIS HAPPENS.

FUCK YOU CHAPEL. AND YOUR INDOCTRINATION. This is not to dismiss the choice Livio/Razlo made to go to the Eye of Michael. With all the interlaced flashbacks, TriStamp frames Livio as a corrupted innocent AND conflicted. It's also interesting that Livio seems to lack bodily autonomy here, which mirrors Vash's lack of autonomy with Knives. Livio is being used.

Aaaand there's Razlo.

Livio breaks. There's a raging internal conflict going on that we can't see. Either Razlo is fighting like hell for control again or he's having a painful physical reaction to the brainwashing breaking and memories flooding back. He can't take it anymore, and well, you know what happens next, I'm not going to show it.

My conclusion is, that you can interpret Trigun Stampede's Livio in many ways. We don't have the entire story yet, Livio barely said anything, but there is evidence to support several theories!

This is Livio under mind control and Razlo is dormant

This is Razlo under gag orders but Livio is fighting to come to the surface

This is a softer-spoken Livio, a sheep led by a monstrous shepherd, where he clearly cares for Wolfwood but is brainwashed with his memories repressed

Or some combination of the above!

I haven't been in the TriStamp tag much, but Livio feels overlooked because he comes off as a plot device to move Wolfwood's story forward. He's important to the ENTIRE story of Trigun for reasons I won't spoil here. We got 2 entire episodes focusing on Wolfwood and Livio, two brothers at odds.

Trigun Stampede is such a deep cut of Trigun Maximum. The incredibly fast pacing hurt it, it's like blink and you missed some critical info. Anyway, Livio deserves more love and consideration. ORANGE IS COOKING so we'll have to wait and see~

[archivalofsins]

It's probably not something many people want to hear or even attempt to internalize.

However, if the way a person engages with any media is making people actively fearful, afraid, or anxious to engage with said media that's not good. If a good deal of people's response to trial two coming to a close is like they're clocking out of a long work shift, finally getting that vacation they've been hoping for. That's not healthy or fun.

I want it to be known that if someone cannot personally handle being around others with different opinions than them, if someone is asking why these people can't just see this how they see it- It's not even an issue of Milgram not being a healthy series for them to engage in anymore. At that point being a part of big fandom spaces may not be a healthy thing for that person in general.

Look I know that throughout trial two a vocal minority of fans have made Milgram a completely horrid experience for a good deal of people. Mostly fucking twitter users. Some of which are here now and like to bring their drama with them. I don't even use the fucking thing anymore. This ceased to be just a western fan problem and turned into a global one a long time ago.

Fans on twitter to my personal memory,

Complained about other countries being allowed to vote at all stating that Milgram should only let people who live in Japan vote, the same person who said this on twitter made a poll after the end of Amane's trial to figure out if it was just western fans that wanted her innocent. Consistently gave inaccurate information about dissociative identity disorder (focused primarily upon one person's individual experience with it multiple times in various spaces). Resulting in presenting the disorder as a monolith in order to push their own theories setting back progress for the millions of people who actually have it. Literally the western audience heavily headcanoned Mu's victim as half black while making fun of her death/how she died during her second trial. Along with using racist rhetoric/dogwhistles in order to push for an innocent verdict for the girl. Made a Kazui guilty shrine. Directly incentivizing people to vote the man guilty by giving them stuff each day they did-

Bitch I'm not paid for this. Hell I would like to be- Incentivize me real quick. Honestly, since they got paid just saying where's mine? People on tumblr write elaborate theories and analysis for free. Because they genuinely enjoy the media. Twitter is the fucking platform that's telling people how they should fucking vote and trying to decide who has the right to since trial two started. Then fucking whining when their piss poor behavior doesn't get them the verdicts they want. It's so bad that eastern fans have actively sought help from western fans to combat some of these problems on multiple occassions.

There are people in the east who wanted Amane innocent and celebrated when she was innocent just like there are people in the west who wanted her guilty. Whether the fandom on twitter believes it or not. This part of the fandom is so detached from the rest of it that they only dream about knowing what the fuck we do over here. They've created a fucking echochamber. Yet the people literally going think for yourself, this is my opinion what's yours are getting the most flack because the vocal minority doesn't like the fact the logic they share makes their feelings hurt.

That in the face of the actual facts of the situations presented to us none of the prisoners look completely good or completely bad. Yet, they're definitely not looking that good either. That some of the facts directly conflict with the squeaky clean always right image they've created of the prisoner they like in their head. Then they go online and make that the issue of whoever's take they like the least that day instead of I don't know not bothering others. Then the worst part is these people whine and play victim harder than the prisoners in their interrogations as soon as consequences present themself for their behavior usually as tangible trial results in Milgram.

Because they've continually thrown these fits publically just to have the verdict they didn't want happen over and over this trial.

Pushed for Mu innocent-

Pushed for Kazui Guilty-

Pushed for Amane Guilty-

I don't even give a fuck what Twitter is pushing for with Kotoko at this point because she's pushing up daises from the bottom of hell-

By audience choice. Literally by audience choice. Fuck the only thing I've heard about Kotoko's trial from twitter was from Star about how they're once again attempting voting fraud in an attempt to get her innocent. Though even I can admit this is fucking embarrassing. This is like really fucking sad. Everything Twitter has fucking pushed for this trial has not won. Meawhile I think maybe tumblr took one loss with Haruka this trial and just vowed never again.

I think everyone can realize how fucking wild that is. Can you fucking imagine how at your wits end you would be if you kept publicly losing like this? How dejected? It's only reasonable to think why isn't anyone listening to what I have to say or how I feel in this sort of situation. Yet, at the same time some of the fans on twitter have actively alienated the other fans on there they have no fandom unity. Which makes sense given they do the shit up there. They are literally eatting eachother over there for sport.

Because it's fucking twitter. That's how it's always been.

Hell, I fucking wouldn't even know these were losses for them if they didn't announce on every verdict post on twitter that's what happened. Or even go back to the comments of Purge March where they're still complaining about Amane's innocent verdict primarily blaming you guessed it the west.

Then they want to go I'm just trying to have fun why are people so mean- Without ever asking who their fun is at the expense of. What it says when they blame everything on overseas fans, state they shouldn't be allowed to vote, and Milgram is different now. This is the platform people are letting impact their experience and encite them into bothering people on other platforms?! People who are actually just trying to have fun in a way that is unique and personal to them? This is the platform running the milgram fandom narrative?

This is what people want the history of the fandom to be when all is said and done? I don't because I know the fandom is better than this. I know it can be better than this. The worst part of trial two is the fact that we let people with no intention to understand make us believe it couldn't be better than this. People who most of the time actively sought out someone who's privately enjoying themselves in the fandom to just go "um, actually you're doing that wrong" or picked someone from the tag to have bad faith discourse with.

Newsflash nobody asked, nobody fucking asked for a Milgram referee, nobody asked who's watching the watchmen, who's guarding the guard. If anyone's fandom hobby is trying to micromanage how others engage with media they're in a different book now and they deserve to stay in it alone or with people like them. Because the only thing people who act in this way want is for others to shut up. For them to stop saying the things that make their favorite look bad and there's only one thing to respond to that with after a while.

I hope you grow up someday~

Think about what makes people who do this more entitled to having fun discussing the things they enjoy than the person(s) that they're currently behaving in this way to? What makes them different from the others that they look down on and treat as an enemy from square one. All because they read a post and decided to define whether a fan was a good or bad person based on that alone. It's not different from coming to that conclusion from just listening to a song or watching a music video really.

Plus, I promise anyone who is doing stuff like this nobody is going to magically change their mind because someone behaves this way towards them. Because the people who do this shit are usually no different from the people who do the same shit listed above. Now everyone is not like this. This is why I said the vocal minority. It's still bad that people are behaving in this manner and treating others like this regardless of how little people are doing it.

At a point the Milgram fandom globally is going to have to reckon with how the way many have treated other fans in this space has been harmful and sown division. The solution to this hostility should not have to be disavowing an entire part of the fandom on a different platform and going we don't do that shit here. However, at a point that becomes the only correct response. Because at the point the behavior being exhibited by some fans is making others feel unsafe and anxious about enjoying the things they enjoy it is only right to go-

We don't do that shit here. We don't engage with people who do that shit here. I have no respect for anyone who mistreats real people over Milgram. If people want to have fun and not have these serious discussions the door is right there go out of it. Communication is a two way street and if you come to someone else with disrespect and hostility you should expect right back. The time of having both while some have none is fucking over. People who behave in this way, whining and bitching about how we don't need nuance it's not that serious one instance just to pivot into how can you not take this seriously are disngenuous and ultimately driven by serving only theirselves.

I myself am sick of pretending like they don't fucking realize that. Because the biggest kicker here is they treat themselves like prisoners but unlike them no one is forcing them to be here or engage at all. People who enjoy anlayzing these things and asking these questions aren't forcing them to fucking do that too. So, no one who enjoys Milgram that way is responsible for the feelings of those who do not enjoy engaging with the series in that way.

Every individual is responsible for currating their own fandom experience. Anyone entitled enough to bother another person into currating their personal fandom experience around them and only saying things that they like is the one being the issue. It's probably disappointing to hear but if the ways up there are how fans want to enjoy Milgram on Twitter and I don't like that I stay away from fucking twitter. Like I said I stopped going in the milgram tag on here and I don't go on twitter either.

I'm not going to act like the tumblr part of the fandom doesn't have problems or even a lot of the same ones as twitter. It spreads misinformation as though it's fact, the fans here can be just as hostile, a lot of fans on tumblr are from twitter as well or use it too. More fans from twitter are coming to tumblr. I can't imagine why-

On tumblr I've personally been messaged some of the rudest most guilt trippy shit by multiple people in this fandom and then blocked immediately. One of the reasons I made that post explaining what grooming is by definition was because someone condescendingly direct messaged me stating I had misused the term. Then when it boiled down to it they're entire issue was simply I don't think Kotoko is that and I don't like how you're stating that she is.

If people keep making they're interpretations your responsibility that's a personal issue not a failing on you the person they happen to be taking that out on today. Because if they feel emboldened to do it once they'll do it twice- Hell, they'll do it as many times as they can get away with doing it until someone stands firm and goes I'm not engaging in this anymore if this is the behavior that brings you joy fine go have fun. However, this isn't what I want my fandom experience to be and I'd appreciate if you respected that and if you can't we just won't talk.

Engaging with your own personal interests is meant to be fun. It's meant to be honest to how you feel and what you personally believe. Anyone making you feel bad about that for no reason by centering themselves and their enjoyment first and foremost in a shared space, regardless of how understanding you want to be, is taking advantage of you. They're saying you have to pay for my fun by giving up your own and being less of yourself publicly because the way you have fun is messing up mine. That's not fair to you and anyone who wants you to respect their fun by dampening your own fucking knows that and doesn't care.

Because if they did they would respect what you enjoy as something that makes you happy first and foremost and talk to you about like a person instead of a problem. Yet if others can't do that if they can't give you the good faith back that you extend to them. You just have to cut them off at a point. Because I'm not cutting off my own hands to put a smile on a strangers face. I'm not silencing myself just so others can applaud. That's not how this works and no one should ever think it is. Fandom while it can be personalized to one's own needs is about community and no community can be good when anyone in it is being mistreated.

Sadly we can't control others the only thing we as individuals can do is try to be kind and understanding of the other fans that share this space with us. And- when people do the things above extend the benefit of the doubt say they're having a tough time and then extend consideration towards yourself and ask is this something I want to see or engage with in any capacity. That's all. The prisoners may have to go through hell by the end of this but that doesn't mean we have to make this hell on each other.

[nomomio]

TW: Allusions to SA, CSA, and physical abuse

Something that's been really driving me nuts is the reading of Karlach as a metaphor for healing from years and years of a physically and s*xually abuse, notably abuse that occurred during formative years.

- Too hot to touch + Practically throwing herself at you if youre slightly good: As a survivor myself the impossible to touch just screams how much touch feels like it will legitimately burn after getting out of a situation. The years of *desperately* wanting loving touch but something always telling me it's wrong, that it will hurt, that somehow I'll hurt them even.

And combined with the moments where you feel you can get touch and you jump on it like a poor child in a marshmallow test. It's normal to want touch, love, affection, intimacy. But how often do we jump into it without a single thought prior when traumatized, because of that near desperate want. In my second playthrough romancing Shart, my sweet angry baby did her little "hey soldier, you awake?" scene second night of being in my camp, with the only companion approval level lower than hers being Lae'zel. Legit just be nice to her, and get the first upgrade for her heart, and she wants more. And lawd I relate.

- Dammon's upgrades: To me these are early understanding in healing. Early jumps in therapy. Finally finding a medication that works. You feel so elated, ecstatic, alive! You can be fixed! You can be okay! You get told by professionals that C-PTSD, BPD, dissociation, whatever. It never truly goes away. Just managed. But you don't care, you don't really integrate that notion because holy fuck for the first time in years, ever even, you can see a light of fucking goodness at the end of the tunnel.

*MAJOR SPOILERS*

- Getting to Act 3, the "it doesn't go away" catches up and she starts burning hot: Just about everyone I know who's gone through/going through this intense of healing all have a point where we relapse in some way. The dissociation gets bad again. Mood swings get volatile again. SH tendencies creep back in. The reality sets in that you can't distract from things with how good things can be when you're okay. It's *always* there. You're stuck with what happened forever.

- Total meltdown after killed Gortash: This monologue GUTTED me. I hid and the washroom and SOBBED after it. I have had similar internal meltdowns so many times. No matter what happens to my abuser. Despite the fact that I can still go to court and send him to prison if I wanted. It won't change that what was done to you has been done. When it sets in that everyone around you who loves you will get to have a normal life and you *never* will. You can put in as much work, as much effort, as much heart as possible to try to fucking heal, only to realize that some things will never go away. Some wounds simply will not heal. And you get angry. So so angry. And then you collapse. It isn't fair. It's not. Fair.

The writers at Larian did SUCH a good job capturing the sheer degree of pain in her lines. Samantha Béart's performance deserves all the awards and accolades because capturing that nuanced raw emotion is so so hard. I so desperately wish we could fix Karlach properly, let her stay in Faerun. But. Maybe her good ending being returning to Avernus with you is truly her realistic good ending. I won't ever fully be free of what happened to me as a child. Its a naive hope that ill ever be completely free of it. But I know I don't have to go it alone. My husband, my friends, those I've chosen are with me through it. Karlach can't change her past, but with Tav, Wyll. She doesn't have to go it alone.

[hargreevesbros]

[Those Three Words - An Umbrella Academy Ficlet - Klaus/Viktor Romance]

Hurt/Comfort

CW: mentions of abuse, rape, torture, killing, PTSD respectively. Consensual sex, mildly graphic.

It wasn't a surprise when Viktor showed up to Klaus's classroom after hours and peeked in to offer a tour of Vik's new apartment.

A misguided 'I love you' couldn't stop the siblings from connecting.

Klaus had said those three words to people who deserved it far less than his own brother.

An inmate in prison pimped the Oracle out. An 'i love you' didn't stop the rape.

When he was 15, his 35 year old boyfriend punched him in the face for uttering those words outside of sex. If it could be called that.

A woman in red heels and a name that was long forgotten put her cigarettes out on his skin whenever he said it. He said it a lot to her for some reason.

Then there was Dave. Dave never hurt him for saying those three words. But he did die. Not even dying himself could bring back Dave.

Everyone that Klaus Hargreeves has ever tried to love has hurt him or left.

Not Viktor.

"Am I trapping you?" Klaus asked Viktor, still inside of the other man in a post sex cuddle on the floor of a grungy, empty apartment.

Viktor laughed and took another hit of the joint they shared, "No more than I've been trapped in this stupid family for 35 years..." He set the joint in the makeshift tin foil ashtray they had made an hour ago, seeing Klaus flinch.

Klaus moved to get up, only to be pinned back down, deeper into the body of his brother with a pair of legs around his waist. "If anything," Viktor traced a scar on Klaus's collarbone, "I'm trapping you."

Only when Klaus began to cry did Viktor untangle his legs and pull away, just to sit up and hold the other man, "Fuck," he muttered softly, "I'm- I'm sorry, Klaus."

For a solid few minutes the silence was filled only by sobs.

Finally, with mascara tears, and sweat, and salvia separating the skin of the two, Klaus sat up and nodded, eyes glazed with dissociation.

"But I love you," Klaus gasped, still trying to catch his breath, holding back another barrage of tears, "I love you like my brother, I love you like my friend, I love you like my--" he shook his head, wincing with a flood of bad memories, "Everyone I've ever loved has hurt me in some way."

Another drag of the joint focused Viktor's mind. "And I've hurt everyone who's ever tried to love me," He swallowed his own tears, not wanting to give in to something so vulnerable, "Sometimes I wonder if I killed those women on purpose."

Klaus raised a brow to his brother, "What? When you were little?"

Viktor nodded.

"Babe," Klaus buried his face in Viktor's hair, savoring the scent of his lover, "We were literally babies, being fucking tormented by Dad."

They both took deep breaths.

"You were being given strangers to micromanage your life at three years old. I'm sure were so fucking scared and confused. You were acting appropriately for a toddler, and it's dad's incompetence that killed those women. Not you."

This time Viktor couldn't stop the tears. "I can't stop seeing their faces though!" He heaved, the air around them thick and heavy.

Outside a few car alarms went off and dogs barked from the ultrasonic frequencies.

Klaus winced but braved the headache while Viktor breathed through the PTSD.

"Whenever I'd date...." He grimaced, remembering all the breakups over the years, "I couldn't....see those people for who they were. I just saw...all the nannies, babysitters, au pairs..." Anger flashed through Viktor's face, "It wasn't fair to them. To not see them for who they were."

Finally, wet eyes met wet eyes. Salty lips crashed into salty lips.

"I don't want to hurt you...or-or not see you." Viktor whispered into his brother's mouth between flicks of the tongue.

"Don't worry about it, Vik," Klaus whispered back trailing kisses down the man's stomach and landing between his legs, "I'm barely a person. And I love you."

That comment earned Klaus a rough hair pull, which only made him laugh into his brother's flesh.

"I love you too," Viktor gasped, eyes wide with pleasure.

I love you.

[ac-liveblogs]

I accidentally deleted the more coherent ask so this is me trying to frantically remember what it said adjhgsj sorry in advance, I'm going to be unbearable abt Dan Feng for a bit <3

Dan Feng sounds like a hilarious clusterfuck. Dan Heng being screwed over by his actions being a purely backstory event kind of sucks, honestly.

It'd also have the nice bonus of introducing the hcq and why exactly you should care about them much more naturally, bc honestly if well executed their story could have made me cry lol I'm an easy crier. the way they did it just doesn't hit as hard as it should.

But Yes!! Dan Feng was SUCH a molotov cocktail of a person, it really is amazing. Identity issues electric bugaloo (with bonus body dysphoria and hallucinations!) + powers that make him dissociate the f out + trying desperately to ground himself by thinking abt his friends + the fact that in all his appearances he's ALWAYS with this permafrozen resting bitch expression. So when I read DH•IL's dreams of what Dan Feng was like as a person I immediately went "oh god the resting bitch face is a lie he's a fucking MESS" which was fun lmao. Sir that's not a dignified high elder that's millennia of trauma stuffed in knee-high boots and cool gloves

ALL THAT and it's mind-boggling that they just. poke it vaguely with a stick on-screen when there's all that cool stuff in the promos and stories?? "In different people's minds Dan Feng may have been an avatar of Long the dragon, a hero, or an immense evil, but never a person with feelings and emotions." that's great buddy how about you now SAY IT ON SCREEN. It even ties into his character story abt DF struggling to feel emotions through the dragon god mindset! It'd have been so easy!! ughh. I know this is a genshin staple, but belobog was rlly good at bringing up everyone's backstory in the quests so I thought hsr would be different :( here's hoping for penacony

Tbh XL's greatest sin is, imo, always focusing on the exact wrong thing. The High Cloud Quintet isn't explained until way after the fact, we learn what Dan Feng did too late and why that mattered too late… BLADE… etc. etc. We did get a lot of focus on the Hunt vs the Abundance, but I kinda wish Dan Feng's sin had been tied into that more solidly than it was

I've been thinking a lot abt how I'd do it, bc I'd also want to do the DF vs DH fight ichor of two dragons style, but trying to put it in Dan Heng realising that the narrative abt DF that he was taught is a lie at the same time he's trying to establish himself as his own person could muddy it up a bit... but it Would have to be at the story's climax...hmmmm. How would you do it?

According to the judges DF craved the power of abundance but I have a hard time believing them when they fed so much bullshit to poor Dan Heng like

Dan Heng: I was initially kept in the Shackling Prison after reincarnating, and received a thorough education on that person's life and crimes. According to the judges, Dan Feng craved the power of abundance and created abominations, therefore as his reincarnation, I had to bear his punishment. As for what kind of person he really was... to be honest with you, I can't be certain either.

According to Vidyadhara custom and the agreement made with Caelorum Venti Dan Heng was SUPPOSED to leave Dan Feng's sin behind w his reincarnation, so excuse me if I give a side-eye to the rest of what they say lmfao. So much hope for more luofu so we can go and punch the dragon-elf elders instead..

I had SO much fun in the Arlan-Asta quest, Herta being the annoying boss caught me completely by surprise even though it rlly shouldn't have jshgdjs

*squints* it's a stupid hour and I just came from a writing binge and 24 hours w no sleep so hopefully this is coherent lol, I probably got some of the lore wrong. Your long asks are always so nice and clear how do you do it?

Haha np, I delete responses to asks and whole entire posts by accident all the time…. (clicky back button on the side of my mouse my beloathed)

It'd also have the nice bonus of introducing the hcq and why exactly you should care about them much more naturally, bc honestly if well executed their story could have made me cry lol I'm an easy crier. the way they did it just doesn't hit as hard as it should.

I think what gets me is, like. It would've been easy enough to do it? It's beyond me why Blade never just… attacked Dan Heng prior to their team-up. It would've been a good way to establish his beef with DH AND, if Kafka's present, that she a) has hypnotism powers and b) uses them to control Blade outside of … that one scene where he just quietly sits in a room and Kafka promises she's doing something interesting. Also like. The effects mara can have on someone outside of Blade and Jingliu promising they're definitely affected and having ~scary eyes in their Ults.

And obviously, I get that whatever Luocha was doing was a set-up for later, but having Jingliu show up just to go to prison… that's four separate factions each with one of the HCQ and most of them with different goals. You'd THINK that would be A Thing? A big dramatic showdown? The four can meet up again afterwards to get drinks because despite everything they're still friends?

Genshin has poisoned me against reading character bios if I can help it (just look how annoyed I got after reading DH and Blade's!) so I hadn't read DH:IL's until just now, but… you're so right lmao??? How come the most I ever learnt about Dan Feng was from Jingliu's melancholic loredump? The elder ghosts bitch about him, sure, but?? On-screen drama?? That one trailer?? Did HYV think that supplemental material was enough to avoid writing the hard part???

(Unironically I think that's it. The Herta Space Station and Belobog were VERY simple. Stuff like Blade and DH are much harder to get right so, characteristic of HYV's writing over in Genshin, they've avoided it as much as possible by relegating it to trailer animations, bios and Jingliu's lore dump.)

I've been thinking a lot abt how I'd do it, bc I'd also want to do the DF vs DH fight ichor of two dragons style, but trying to put it in Dan Heng realising that the narrative abt DF that he was taught is a lie at the same time he's trying to establish himself as his own person could muddy it up a bit… but it Would have to be at the story's climax…hmmmm. How would you do it?

Complicated question. Running on the assumption that we are returning to the Luofu, or at least will be dealing with Luofu-based characters again at a later point in the story, you probably don't WANT to have wrapped up too much of Dan Heng's potential growth by the third world, right?

So if anything, I'd want him to be more unsure of himself prior to canon so that you can get more development (and types of interactions with others he used to know) out of him during the actual game. Assuming that you will return to the Luofu later, or at least run into most of those characters again (based on the alliance with XL and Trailblazer not having The Hunt yet), I'd probably base it like this:

1) Pre-canon: Dan Heng genuinely isn't sure who he is or how to feel about what he knows of his past. He's pretty sure he's meant to be his own person, but he was never treated that way, lived his life on the Luofu in Dan Feng's shadow and, most damningly, has flashes of Dan Feng's memories every now and then but has no context for what they mean. Also Blade seems pretty sure. And as you say - the High Elders still holding him responsible for Dan Feng's actions, alleged or otherwise, may have caused some damage. He's only one of the Nameless to get away from Blade/his past, basically.

2) First visit to Luofu: Dan Heng learns exactly who Dan Feng was, what he did/why and meets the High Cloud Quintet. You should be able to use Blade and Jing Yuan at the very least to get some Identity Drama and add more stakes to figuring out DF's deal outside of Dan Heng's own feelings. Doesn't necessarily come to a conclusion but is more informed. Meet Bailu etc.

3) Second visit to Luofu: Ichor of the Two Dragons goes here as the climax of some plot where Dan Heng definitively rejects Dan Feng and affirms his own identity. Spending time on the Express helped him figure out who he was/what he wanted and such. Dan Heng cleans up what he can and moves on from the Luofu. He stays on the Express because he loves the crew/for his own reasons, not just to run from his past, something like that.

I think you could pace out other characters' development connected to DH along these stages as well - particularly Blade and Bailu. The result of 3) should be Blade absolutely losing it once he realises Dan Feng really is dead (and whatever that might mean for him which then leads into Dan Heng having to resolve THAT situation in a Dan Heng-way (not necessarily on the Luofu, but around or afterwards), as well as wrapping up Bailu's storyline (which hopefully involves punching some elderly dragon-elves).

It'd also be fun to have a window of time to squeeze a little tension out of March 7th and Dan Heng - because, like, as far as March who wants to know who she was is concerned, a whole world that knows all about Dan Feng AND a bunch of DF's old friends and acquaintances being able to fill in the blanks… that's the dream for her, right? Meanwhile for Dan Heng this is all one big turbo nightmare and he'd be much happier with a clean break and no need to ever come back. Maybe there's some jealousy on both sides there. Trailblazer awkward go-between.

I had SO much fun in the Arlan-Asta quest, Herta being the annoying boss caught me completely by surprise even though it rlly shouldn't have jshgdjs

RIGHT??? For some reason I thought Arlan was having trouble saying no to PEPPY (dog too cute, can't refuse giving peppy too many treats) but then. Herta. OBVIOUSLY

squints it's a stupid hour and I just came from a writing binge and 24 hours w no sleep so hopefully this is coherent lol, I probably got some of the lore wrong. Your long asks are always so nice and clear how do you do it?

Hopefully you got some sleep!!! And uh. I don't know. I naturally ramble a lot and have to trim myself down. My response to how I'd handle DH up there is my third draft and the original was several much longer paragraphs. I'm trying to work on readability… I still need to get better at it, but glad it's helping!(?)

[a-tiny-sloth]

i understood the web weaving post but i wanna hear you ramble about it anyways

thank u for enabling me as always thunder <3

this is ridiculously long, i tried my best at formatting it so it's easy to read, hope it is. still putting a cut here

for the first verse (black hole opened in the kitchen/every clock's a different time/it would only take the energy to fix it/i don't know why i am) i first chose one of the things jimmy says to piero in the phonecall at the party, which essentially boils down to "i don't know who i am" because i liked the idea of the last and first line somewhat mirroring each other (parallelism babyyy i love my rhetorical devices), but also that juxtaposition of the who/why. essentially, phoebe (or better, the poetic persona) and jimmy are both feeling stuck here and questioning themselves. that's also why i chose the friday joan of arc quote next (it is true i wished to escape; and so i wish still; is not this lawful for all prisoners?): to drive home that feeling of being stuck

for the first chorus (the way i am/not strong enough to be your man/i tried, i can't/stop staring at the ceiling fan and spinning out about things that haven't happened/breathing in and out) i chose a quote from when jimmy starts to dissociate during the meet and greet (but i'm gone, i'm already gone, i'm up above the three of us and gazing down at the three bodies and wondering who on earth decided that these three pathetically flawed human beings deserved so much worship) because of a) the "not strong enough to be your man" bit (he's not strong enough to face them and questions if he's even worth their worship), b) the whole "staring at the ceiling fan" line fits jimmy's anxiety perfectly and c) i just thought it was neat to have the juxtaposition of the rethorical persona of not strong enough staring up and jimmy staring down. the next line (hold the crucifix up before my eyes so i may see it until i die) is then supposed to fit with both of the other quotes, the ceiling fan and crucifix mirroring each other and the idea of worship/religion in jimmy's line being reiterated here

i skipped the second verse for lack of good lines to compare it to lmao

for the second chorus (the way i am/not strong enough to be your man/i lied, i am/just lowering your expectations/half a mind that keeps the other second-guessing/close my eyes and count) i chose another quote from the phonecall (everywhere i go, everything i do... i'm lying. i'm pretending. and everyone's watching me... waiting for me to get it wrong) for the similar themes of lies/dealing with others expectations/second-guessing yourself

for the bridge (always an angel, never a god) i chose a fereshteh quote where she calls jimmy an angel (but god, if anyone's the angel around here, it's him) because duh (but it is interesting to note that jimmy is very much called a god in iwbft... food for thought)

and finally, for the last chorus (i don't know why i am/there's something in the static/i think i've been having revelations/coming to in the front seat, nearly empty/skip the exit to our old street and go home/go home alone) i chose part of jimmy's and fereshteh's dialogue at st pancras ('home?' 'i want to go home.' 'like... like your apartment?' 'no,' i say. 'home. my actual home. where i grew up.') mostly as a juxtaposition because while the poetical persona is going home alone, jimmy takes someone with him. ultimately there's still mirroring tho, because they both want to go home (find peace?). and finally, the last line (i was in my thirteenth year when i heard a voice from god) is again supposed to fit with both of the other quotes, through "i've been having revelations" vs. the voice from god and through "where i grew up" vs. "when i was in my thirteenth year"

anyways, i think it's obvious not strong enough and iwbft are highly comparable due to religious imagery/anxiety/self-worth issues etc etc and i mostly just had fun here

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: The break down.

Moon Knight, Issue #9: Vengeance in Reprise! 

Oh this one. I'm so excited you guys. 

There is so much going on here. 

We start with dramatic storm clouds and Moon Knight doing his angsty silhouette pose. 

We see a newspaper that says "Bushman Escapes Prison". 

Marc laments that Bushman is the most dangerous man he's ever faced. Since Bushman knows who he was before he became Moon Knight, there is a high likelihood that he would hunt him down and kill everyone he cares about. 

You see, Bushman was Marc’s commander while he was a mercenary. He trained Marc, taught him how to handle different situations he wasn’t used to, how to be tough, and how to be as ruthless as you needed to be to survive a situation. 

I think there is respect and fear there. Like going up against your old teacher. You idolized them and saw them as the big powerful being and maybe you disagree with them now, it’s still hard to stand up to them. 

So we see him do his dramatic thing of crashing through windows. He does this a lot. Moon Knight is all about the dramatic entrance. If there's a door or a window, he will pick the window 100% of the time. 

He busts up a casino to harass some guys that might know where Bushman is. 

Cut to Grant Mansion. The butler, Samuels, is asking Marlene if she really believes that Marc died and was brought back with the soul of the moon god. 

She admits that she did indeed see him dead. 

"There are two possibilities... One: The spirit of the Moon God actually entered his body and reanimated him. Or Two: He revived naturally and, seeing Khonshu, he merely convinced himself -- in delirium-- that he'd been possessed by the God of the Moon's Vengeance." 

She doesn't answer which one she believes in. She notes that "It doesn't matter. Either way, the statue changed him." 

We did get to see some classic Moon Knight fighting style in this. Crescent darts, his truncheon stick, punching, and utter disregard for his own body as he just constantly throws himself at people and takes hits. 

The people in the casino claim not to know where Bushman is and one of them gets away. Moon Knight follows and changes into Lockley's outfit to follow in his cab. 

Back at the mansion, we see Marlene asleep in bed. 

A shadow falls over her and she wakes, thinking Steven has returned, only to find someone else there. 

She screams and it wakes up Frenchie. Frenchie comes running with his gun and crashes into someone fleeing. 

The intruder is gone and Frenchie fears it was Bushman, but Marlene says it wasn't. It was some guy in a monster mask. 

I would love to see more Frenchie action, honestly. He was a comrade of Marc and worked under Bushman too. The man has skills. He can drive any vehicle and engineers the hell out of making a giant moon shaped thing fly. COME ON. The man is a genius and deserves more time. 

They search the mansion and find the Statue of Khonshu is gone! 

"I don't like it, Frenchie. Steven relies far too much on that statue -- Beyond mere harmless superstition. He says it gives him strength--Life, and coupled with his schizophrenia, his four way personality hang-up..." 

(That hurt me to type.) 1980, everyone. If you had a personality disorder, hallucinated, or acted in certain ways, they label you a schizophrenic. 

I'm not sure if Multiple Personality Disorder was even the common term for DID back then. 

I just googled it: 

Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) was first introduced in DSM-III in 1980 and re-named Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) in subsequent editions of the diagnostic manual (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). 

OKAY. So. This is why early Moon Knight is going to use this uncomfortable language. 

We can't blame them for using the wrong terms and we can't go after them for that. Up to that point, it was seen as a form of schizophrenia and various other illnesses. 

We CAN get upset about the inappropriate way it's handled. The way Marlene uses it as a sort of insult. A way to say "He's not normal and it's getting worse." 

We can also get angry at the other writers that took over in the years that followed. ESPECIALLY more current volumes that took place after 2013. (ELLIS. BEMIS. AARON. I'm looking at you! I'm giving a mighty side eye to Bendis 2011-2012 run. 2009-2012 Hurwitz barely gets a pass and I know they used that language a lot. Huston, as much as it pains me, 2006-2009, you get a stern glance because I know you used the hell out of that language and other very insulting terms.)

RIGHT. The story! So, we've been watching the boys slowly evolve. We've also been watching them start to fight a little. Little cheap shots, little disagreements. Marc is the only one so far that has flat out refused to acknowledge that there is a problem and that Steven and Jake aren't just him in disguise. 

In fact, Marc is often found looking at the statue, talking to it, or asking it for strength and power to do what needs to be done. 

So for Frenchie and Marlene to be a little panicked about the missing statue, it's pretty valid. 

We then see Nedda (the cook in the mansion) come in screaming about Samuels. 

Samuels has been taken! 

Jake calls into the mansion to check the Bushman files and gets an earful from Marlene about the break in. 

Jake tells her to "Keep your wig on, Lady" as he has one more thing to check out before he heads home. 

Frenchie asks if it was Marc on the phone. 

"Yes, but calling as Jake, and I prefer to think of him as Steven. Each of us calling him a different name certainly doesn't help..." 

"You told him Samuels was missing, but you said nothing about zee statue." 

"I told you, he places too much importance in it. His mental state is precarious enough...Better he doesn't suffer the statue's loss in a crisis situation -- Not when he's already set for a fall..." 

So what bothers me is that everyone can see the system starting to spiral. They see Marc's unsafe coping mechanisms and they see them starting to struggle. The system is rebelling and I honestly think it’s Marc causing the upset. His self destruction is starting to hurt them and it’s making the others have to work double time, not to mention them starting to define themselves. 

It’s like they’ve all been masking for so long that they’ve forgotten how to be themselves and now that they feel free to, there’s a huge upheaval and no one knows what job to do. 

Yet they do nothing but try to enforce on him normalization and keeping things from him. 

It's like they all agreed that he's in a dangerous situation so they better not point it out to him. Looney Tunes logic. 

Meanwhile, Jake is checking out some suspicious cars he was following when he finds... A manhole. 

Sewer count? 2. 

Back at the mansion, while Moon Knight is a sewer man... 

Marelene suddenly realizes who stole the statue. 

ANTON MOGART, also known as MIDNIGHT MAN. 

He showed up in an earlier comic I didn't write up. He's an obsessive art collector that Moon Knight stopped. In their battle, Mogart went over a cliff, but Moon Knight knew he wasn't dead. 

When Mogart went over the cliff, he ended up in the Manhattan river where he was swept to a sewer plant. The chemicals in the water melted his face. 

Mogart blames Moon Knight for losing his art collection and his face. 

(I’ve honestly never found Mogart that impressive as a villain. He’s always struck me as a little Phantom of the Opera wanna be that lacks the dramatic flare of Eric. Especially now that his face is melted. He wears an opera cape for fucks sake!) 

His revenge starts with him showing Moon Knight the stolen statue of Khonshu, which he drops off a platform to watch it shatter. 

"Moon Knight suddenly feels weak...Drained...Almost lifeless...and certainly without soul...." 

If he believed he had been created as Moon Knight because of the statue, it must surely have crossed his mind that his very life was caught up in that statue. Without the statue, would he continue to exist as Moon Knight? Would he still live? Would his resurrected body suddenly perish? 

He doesn't have much time to react as Mogart starts shooting at him. He moves and evades the bullets easily. 

"Soon the terrifying loss of his soul-totem will return to him... Soon the destruction of Khonshu will haunt him with festering doubt... But not now. Not yet. He is still primed with rage, fueled by adrenaline. Without even realizing it, and statue or no, he is still the moon's avenger of death. And as such, he is indomitable." 

That's some good narration. 

He easily defeats Mogart only to have Bushman show up with Samuels. 

He takes a jab at Moon Knight, saying that with the god statue gone, he has no hope of survival. 

He then opens a hole to a flooded chamber and tosses Samuels into the flowing water. 

Issue #10: Too Many Midnights

Moon Knight is faced with a choice. Save Samuels, stop Bushman, or save his statue god. 

Bushman takes a moment to reminisce. "Do you remember how it all started, Moon Knight, back when you still called yourself Marc Spector, back when we were both in Africa -- When I was the hardened leader and you were a too-soft follower?" 

He used to boast to Marc that the only way to survive as a mercenary was to inflict fear as the supreme weapon. 

He accuses Moon Knight of using the visage of the Avenger of Death to inflict fear on his enemies. 

"You've lost the 'soul' possessing you." 

Moon Knight feels "the loss of life...A spiritual vacuum." 

If we look at Moon Knight as his own alter that was created out of the stress and trauma of dying in the desert that night, I can only imagine what this idea is doing to him. 

The thing that he views as giving him life is gone and his reason to exist is gone. 

His spiritual guide. The thing that defined him. 

Elsewhere, Marlene and Frenchie have tracked Jake's cab down and entered the sewers in a desperate search for him. 

Bushman locks them into the flooding room and leaves. Samuels pleas for Moon Knight to act and get them out of there. 

"But Moon Knight remains locked in his dull trance..." 

Mogart is still there and he snaps Moon Knight out of it. 

He attempts to dig out some bricks to open a hole. 

The water rises over his head and still he struggles, lamenting that his strength is gone with Khonshu. 

Mogart calls out to Samuels: 

"What's he doing? You know him better than I..." 

"I'm afraid I don't know him better than you---I don't think anyone truly knows him." 

Do any of them really know Moon Knight? 

Frenchie knows Marc. Marlene and the staff at the mansion know Steven. Jake has all his friends at the diner. 

But what does Moon Knight have? 

Mogart and Samuels slip through the freshly made hole but Moon Knight dives for the statue pieces. 

Being pulled through the current and through the hole, his cloak catches on the bricks and is ripped from him. 

Issue 1, the cloak is the original shroud that was draped over the Khonshu statue. The first thing Marc did on being resurrected was to wrap himself in that cloak and declare himself a servant of Khonshu. 

The removal of the cloak at this time is another symbolic blow to him. He has lost his god and been stripped of his vestiges. 

Frenchie and Marlene stumble across the cloak and instantly think Marc is dead. 

Here we see a man spiritually defeated. 

He believes he was alive because of Khonshu. He also believed that Khonshu was in the statue and in him. 

With the statue gone, he doesn't have reason to believe that he is alive anymore. 

If Marc died in the desert, then who is he now? 

"I'm nothing... Everything to everyone, but nothing to myself..." 

That's an interesting sentence. 

He has put so much on being everything but he never knew who he was. 

Welcome to a severe dissociative state. 

Marc wanders off, and I do believe it's Marc here. Marc is the one of the four that has yet to declare "I am Marc Spector and this is who I am." He's stayed in the back so long, hiding and pretending he didn't exist. 

He's been shocked to the front and he can't get out. 

So we get images that are both hilarious and also very sad, of a man wandering off cradling the head of Khonshu while muttering about how he is nothing. 

Samuels makes his way back to the mansion and delivers the good news that Moon Knight is alive! but also having a pretty nasty breakdown. 

"He seems to have suffered some kind of breakdown! He saved my life, but could only say what a failure he is -- a fake. I... I'm not sure he'll be home...for some time..." 

Classic Marc Spector. He can only see the bad in himself and all his deeds. 

Marlene calls up Gena and asks them all to get in with Jake's contacts and search for him. 

"Gena! You and Crawley know his Jake Lockely Personality better than anyone -- But remember that he may be in bad shape. He may not even know who he is..." 

Well... at least she acknowledges that Jake is not Steven... It's a start... 

Marc is missing for 3 days while they search the city. 

And here we get some of my favorite Marc moments. This man... This man is DRAMATIC. 

Marc...What are you doing...? 

Aside from the comical Hamlet reference, we do gleam some existential crisis out of this. Saying to Khonshu how he knew him “so well that you became me and I you…and together we became many men, all without souls…” 

What makes up a soul? Does Marc believe he isn’t worth his soul after the life he has chosen? Does he wonder if they each are capable of having their own souls? 

Marc, who has rejected his Rabbi father’s teachings, questioning suddenly what spirit can live in him, who has rejected god, killed men, and taken up an idol outside of his faith. 

He thinks he is nothing. He can’t feel his own existence and can’t justify his existence to himself. He’s having a fun time. And you just know that Steven and Jake are probably having a fit in there trying to pull Marc from the front seat before he does something stupid. 

Yeah so... Bushman is using this time to CRIME WAVE. 

I just want to point out that for the second time, we see the drug of choice is Heroin. 

1980s. This was the drug moving in the streets at that time, overdosing and killing people. 

It wasn't until mid to late 80s that Cocaine took over. Just a fascinating little tidbit of social history that you can find in the comics. 

You guys…. As much as seeing Marc being a trashman under newspapers in a public park talking to the head of Khonshu really highlights who he is… Holy shit you guys…

"Never even knew my brother, Khonshu, let alone myself. ...Rand was his name... Randall Spector... Died right around here... Right here in central Park... And I couldn't even stop it... He almost killed Marlene... And maybe I killed him.... I don't know... Probably doesn't matter... I'm a loser anyway... But maybe it was Moon Knight who really killed him.. .Or maybe even Lockley... But not Grant, I don't think... No, Never Grant..." 

THIS is everything. This is the MCU show. This is Lemire. This is where it all comes from! 

Marc can’t see himself in all of this. He’s lost sight of who he is. He’s tried so hard to be nothing that he can’t tell when he was himself and he was someone else. 

The death of his brother (I will go back and cover this later. It’s important I just… It will come later.) really affected him. Perhaps Randall was what was left of Marc’s past before he left. Perhaps Randall was what he defined as Marc Spector and the very nature of Randall dying was him killing the past. There is so much trauma there. So much trauma he refuses to face. So much pain and regret. 

Up to this point, we have only seen the violence of his days in the military and mercenaries. It isn’t till much later when Elias dies that we see some of the regret and pain Marc has in his childhood, but even then we don’t see it all. 

So who killed the past? Was it Marc? Was it Moon Knight? Was it Jake? Marc certainly seems to think Jake has it in him to fight and kill. Jake does have a temper at times. Jake also resents Marc and blames him for all the death and pain that trickles down. Much like the death of Crawley’s son. 

Moench never gets deep into Marc’s childhood. He doesn’t cover the trauma. He doesn’t show when the others really started to show up, only when the system became aware of itself. But one has to wonder. 

It’s clear that Moon Knight was created when they died. Jake feels new. Even in Lemire’s run, he mentions that Jake is a lot newer than the others. Jake feels like he came about when they took up residence in New York, (hence why we see him in the last issue finding himself with the mustache.) Perhaps a response to trying to start his life over. A spiritual protector and desire for friends and companionship? It’s hard to tell with Jake because each writer does Jake differently, but he’s certainly not been around as long as the others. 

But Steven does NOT feel new. He’s never felt new. He’s too angry at Marc. He is too stern about his name. Even too critical of Jake. Perhaps Steven wasn’t always aware of who he was, but he feels older. 

Considering the role Steven plays later with the death of Elias (see my other comic breakdowns for that), Steven feels like he’s been with Marc for a long time. 

Marc had to have been aware that something was wrong. I think Marc knew. Even from the beginning, I think Marc knew. Maybe he forgot as a sense of self preservation. Maybe he just refused to believe it. 

I think what I love about re-reading the original comics is that I have the gift of having read everything before. I know what’s coming and where things are taken by other writers. It can be both frustrating and also eye opening. 

I’m going to reach a bit into the future with Lemire. “But not Grant. [....] Never Grant.” 

Never Grant. 

Anyways… 

“Fine upstanding pillar of respectable capitalism that he is…” Possibly a jab. Marc and Steven argue the most. They disagree the most. Maybe Marc doesn’t believe Steven is capable of violence. That he’s too peaceful. 

Like his father. The son his father wanted. The good jewish boy that he should have been. 

But that last part… “Knows…” What does Steven know? Where was Marc going with that? 

The last panel hurts me. All the friends there, and all calling him Steven. Enforcing the ‘normal’ on him. Look how small, vulnerable, and miserable he looks there. 

“Marlene says you’re home now.” But that isn’t Marc’s home. Marc is not welcome there. 

"No... Not home... This is Grant's home. I'm not Grant... I'm nobody... Nothing..." 

Marc protests. He knows he isn't them. He is still stuck. He tries so hard not to be there. To be nothing so he doesn't have to feel things. So he doesn't have to question if he even exists anymore. 

Marlene does try to help.

"Listen to me, Steven -- You are someone! You're exactly what you've chosen to be -- A strong man determined to make up for the evil you once did. You're not Lockley or Grant or even Moon Knight. They're just your tools... Names and identities you use to accomplish your goal." 

She pushes it. She means well. She pushes that Marc is just a man that is trying to make up for the evil he did. That he's strong and chosen to live a better life. 

"I understand... But you're wrong, Lady... It's no use... You loved a fake. Because I don't know who I really am... Other than a four-faced fake, Like the four phases of the moon, and the phoney Moon God, Phoney Khonshu...A fake all along..." 

Marlene is upset and reveals a new Khonshu statue. 

She claims that when she took over managing the mansion, she had a fake plaster Khonshu statue made while the real statue was kept locked up in a safe place. 

She uncovers the statue, much to Marc's shock. 

She tells him that it's all been in his head. That he did this all to himself and that the statue was always still there, so his loss of power was just in his head. 

Marc looks unsure but pleased. 

This... this bothers me. I'll get to that later. But it really bothers me. 

Five nights later, Crawley has news about Bushman and gives them the address. 

Marlene asks him if he's ready to face Bushman again. 

"Physically, yes. Mentally, I still find it all hard to believe and I may be shaky for a while, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

Marlene hands over his old cloak and he's off. 

He tracks down Bushman and gives chase. 

Marc taunts him, telling him to remember certain fights and moves that Bushman taught him. 

Bushman says he is still the stronger man and Marc knocks him out. He's now the better fighter. 

Back at the mansion, Marc is staring up at the statue. 

"Tell me the truth, Marlene. Was the shattered one the replica, and this one the original? Or did you have a replica made after the original was destroyed?" 

"If it really matters to you, dear Steven, you can always have that one carbon-dated..." 

He says he'd rather not know and she tells him it was all in his head. 

"Maybe there was too much in my mind... But it's been cleared out, Marlene, thanks to you. I think." 

And in the last panel he gives an uncertain look at the statue as Marlene kisses him. 

So why be so worried about the statue being stolen if she knew it was a fake? Why not tell him right away? Why go through all the trouble? 

She lied to him. She lied to him to make him feel like it was all in his head. Rather than try to talk it out, find the nature of his worries and trauma about not existing or having a soul and help him. 

Instead she lets him believe that everything is fine, enforces that he’s just one guy confused about who he is, and that the others are just him trying to be better. It implies that Marc has it settled and ‘under control’ now. 

This man is the furthest from ‘under control’. If anything, he’s going to sink deeper into himself and bring more harm to them. 

In fact, in the comics to come, the wedge between them is only going to grow. None of that was okay. The lie was not okay. 

So let’s address the big stupid bird in the room: What is Khonshu? 

I don’t think the original comics knew. They often describe the statue as having a strange presence, often making it look like it’s smiling or watching them. 

Marc even claims that he tries to be Khonshu as a way to know himself. That Khonshu knows him the best. 

It’s possible that the spirit of Khonshu did come back with Marc. That it looked into him and saw Marc and the potential there. “Like the four phases of the moon”. Perhaps Khonshu was just biding his time? Testing Marc? Building his power? 

A theory that crosses my path and mind now and then is that Khonshu is another alter. Maybe at first? A way to hold power and control over his life? A being that is above the sins and cruelness of the world? An endless companion that can see into them and guide them? That can control Marc when he is at his worst? 

We’ll see as the comics continue and Khonshu starts to become his own character. 

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Only addicts truly understand addicts

This is not to say that non-addicts can't have an empathic approach too towards addiction, of course. They certainly can, what they can't do is genuinely comprehend the full extent of what the addiction does to you and how exactly it affects your brain chemistry. It's like non-addicts, no matter how much they study or try their best to understand, they can only gain a somewhat surface level of understanding. It's the addicts who know there's a whole continent of "noise", call it substance noise, behavioral noise, toxic relationship noise, a combo of noises, etc. that drives them crazy at all times, and non-addicts stay on the shore of this piece of land. They never get to explore the whole territory and get to know it like the palm of their hand. Ever.

The sensation under the skin, the constant noise in the back of the mind, the deep hardcore craving, the different perception of time, the alienation and dissociation, the completely altered and tainted meaning of the concept of peace, and the very high skill level acquired after a while to mask it for it to look socially acceptable and even imperceptible to the untrained eye. Sometimes it can look admirable from the outside when it's nothing but hell on the inside, a hell the addict does not want to get out of most of the time. It's like a chosen prison that turns into a safe space because it's the best known space for the addict.

No one can truly get it unless they felt it in their bones and loved it at times as much as they despised it later only to love it again, cyclicly, in a loop. Craving it all along, knowing all along how self-destructive it is and not giving a fuck about it, and sometimes dealing with the extra layer of guilt this brings. Some other times being so far removed that that layer doesn't even exist.

Most clueless ppl equal addiction to substances when that's not even the tip of the iceberg. It's the most obvious scenario, yes, but it's hardly accurate to think of substances, whether illegal or not, as the only weapons of choice for addicts. It shows, once again, how little ppl understand them. And how biased their mindset is.

Addiction has always been taboo and that's why it's a behavior that has spread like a wildfire in society. Anything that is under rug swept, turns into a snowball sooner or later because it's never really or adequately dealt with and cleansed.

But nowadays on top of it being taboo, it's also highjacked by pseudo-experts that throw terms around, like empathy, resilience, communication, etc. Unless they are recovered addicts, they are just playing by ear and falling short. Period. I call them impostors, even if that's not what they intend to be.

Naturally, they can be part of multi-disciplinary teams and have a valued input in that framework, but only if that's the case. Otherwise, their credentials don't matter, don't suffice, do not work. Never have, never will and only those who know better can tell them apart.

It's dangerous and scary how well, using cleaver SM virilization tactics and keywords, the impostors mimic those who truly walked the walk and rapidly create a fanbase of well-intentioned ignorants.

And it doesn't stop there.

How addiction, as a social issue, is wildly misunderstood and mistreated and therefore never really overcome is just the beginning of a long list of other issues with massive impact that are mistreated and misrepresented in the same way by a few impostors who claim to be experts or scholars in the subject and who blatantly confuse editorialization with fact-based information. A whole generation has been ruined by their poor handling and understanding of issues they pretend to be experts at and the huge platform that SM gives them to spread their misconceptions, no matter how well-intentioned, only makes it worse, especially in the mental health department.

This wicked and flawed social dynamic of misunderstanding that leads to a road to hell paved with good intentions and fostered by SM that makes it super popular and facilitates access to it to those who should keep out of it but don't, is replicated in sooooo many other aspects of society.

The incapacity a lot of people have to accurately discern problems from solutions and thus end up trying to put out the fire with gasoline while claiming to have the best interest at heart is the cancer of modern society.

Unfortunately, the only way out, is through.

It's gonna get worse before it gets better. This is not a speed race.

[hersheythecure]

.

This man was really working overtime. Finding out how much he's done to me is hard af. I didn't know someone could place thoughts in your mind. Wow. I'm just like shocked. Feels like my memories are false. Fuckkk.

He has been hurting me when I'm dissociated and high. He has weapons zed my system against me. They feel terrible.

It was any of your faults. He's had so much practice before you. You still did your best. He made you think he was protecting you but he was not. He was tugging you around like a toy. All of you.

The implications. He never loved you. He never cared about you. There is no good inside if him. Do you see. Someone who rapes you in your sleep. Someone who beats you in your sleep.

How to did I survive that shit. He was making me have chronic pain. He was hitting me so I couldn't walk. He was drugging me and raping me and giving me utis. He's been putting me in the hospital. All of my falls he's bee. Setting them up. He's been trying to kill me for years. Fickkk.

But you survived. You didn't go down. You're one strong ass motherfucker I give it to you. He's going to pay. I promise you. Prison is the least of his worries. The absolute least. I dare him to come for me. I dare you. You hate yourself so much. I can see it. You hate who you are. You hate what you like. You just hate yourself. And I don't. I love myself. I do. Very much so. That's the difference between me and you. You have hurt me but I'm still fucking beautiful inside and out. You are deplorable. You freaking evil son of a bitch. May nature wipe you from it. Any everyone who helped you. Who stood by you. May nature run her coarse.

There is no rehabilitation for people like this.

My parts are in a bit of disarray learning from my therapist everything were piecing together. See I've been getting older memories back before Marcus. Now I'm getting the memories from my time with this man. Seeing what was hidden from my by ME not my parts. Well then by my brain. While I was there. Fuckkkkk it just gets worse innnitttttt.

Dissociation. Fuck my psychiatrist. Let me get this approval for emdr and they will see I'm dead ass a system and I need treatment. Fuckkkkkkk

Fuckkkkkkkk

Fuckkkkkkkkk

Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Oh fuckkkkkkkk

Fuck

Fuck

Wow

Wow

Wowwwwwww

Holy shit

Yea ain't no God up there. Ain't no motherfuxking wayyyyy no higher power want me to get raped over a d over again. To get beat in my sleep over and over again. Suck dick. Take your prayers and shove them up your assess.

Nah.

What.

Yall see why i ran. My brain knew bro. Knewwwww.

Fuckkkkkkk my kid.

Omg

Omg

What can I even do with this information now?

Nothing

Deal with it.

He hurt you bad. You loved a piece of him he showed you. But the rest was there when you were asleep or high. That was his way of manipulating your memories. While you're on MM or THC. Feeding it to you. He's the reason you needed it in the first place. He was hurting you since you lived in GA in 2020. He was hurting you and causing your unexplained body pain. Yes. He set up 99 percent of your falls.

I'm nit sure the extent his family was involved. Butyou can't trust any of them. Ever. You understand. You don't have to. That's dead okay. Finitoooooo.

We ain't looking backwards. Every man for them fucking selves. Any ties to anyone. Fuck outta here. I need yall to hear me. Anybody that was gonna be here is here. Don't feel bad for nobody cause nobody give a fuck about you. We good. We been handling this. We gon handle everything else. Baby girl. I'm so proud of you.

I wonder if our bone density helped us not have broken bones. 🤔 I learned bones are an organism. They will become harder if the environment calls for it. Did getting hit by a car make my bones get harder and denser which made me sink instead of float in boot camp? Hmmmm don't know lol. But I'm a strong ass bitch. And hot Girls the gang has arrived. I felt them come in this morning.

We are capable. We are strong. We are here. We matter. We are loved. By the best person ever. Our kiddo. And our uncle and aunt. And our mom. Our mark us being left wherever we go. Even when we don't even think. Even in places we care less to pay attention to.

My therapist said I'd have bruises. Wtf bro how come I don't remember??????

I will.

It'll take time.

Wow. This is a horror movie. Holy shit. Not a lifetime but a horror lifetime. Okay maybe it's still a lifetime movie. Yall remember the hand that rocks the cradle. Holy fuck. That shit tucked me up. But this on that.

Of course dexter is his favorite show. Of course Stephen King is his favorite author of course the signs were thereeeeeee. I just ain know to read them.

[certaintrashruins]

I agree with that. I think i like the idea of a ship like them, but not them, if it makes sense.

And no problem! Honestly i love overthinking charakters, and it makes me feel less crazy if other people do it too😅

Growing up around hot springs, he surely saw things he shouldn't have, and probably didn't understand. The whole bond thing is incredibly sad. Especially from that young age, he most likely had literally noone to teach him what normal human connections are like, or how the world really works.

I find the dissociating incredibly realistic. As you said its an existing thing, and we have reason to believe that this is the case with him. I can't image going through the pain of literally dying, multiple times, by your own hands in most cases, and staying completly sane. That just seems impossible, especially if he wasn't alright to begin with. And he is probably doing is since a very long time.

I think for him the line definently blurs. I doubt that the cult gave their members the usual "You know when you reach a certain age, and find someone" speech. He most likely knows vague things, as in what feels good and what hurts, amd how to associate the two, but definently doesn't understand most of it.

Him with the book is so sad. And it also sadly makes sense, that someone growing up in a cult that glorified pain wouldn't know whats healthy, and whats abusive.

This might just be me pushing my abandonment issues onto Hidan, but the religion one hits way too real. I think this is something he and Kakuzu both have. They clearly fear being abandoned, but in diffrent ways. Hidan does whatever it takes to not get abandoned - even if it means crossing his own boundaries, or putting himself in unfortunate positions, while Kakuzu does what he can to prevent the connection that could lead to him getting abandoned again - not forming connection, pushing people away, literally killing his teammates. And i think Kakuzu does recognise this in Hidan. Kakuzu asking about Hidan when he gets yanked back into existence is so sad. But feels a lot more parental than romantic. He didn't just abandon him.

I read a fanfic wich i don't exactly remember, but basicly Kakuzu getting to know that Hidan is burried. It felt so sad to me, because the writer made a connection between Kakuzu being in prison and Hidan being burried, and i can't unsee it.

The boundaries one is so real. Hidan would need to be tought basics like setting boundaries, how human relationships work, and how the world works before he could get into a relationship.

Hidan never getting a plushie is so sad. A kid in a cult, and not even a plushie to hug.

I don't know if this will make sence, and again maybe its just abandonment issues projecting. But Hidan feels like the stray dog who doesn't realise he was thrown out. The one who you stays next to the road, who you pet once and now will follow you forever even if you treat it like shit.

And i really loved that fic. I re-read it recently because i didn't have the best english skills when i first found it, and sorry for my rambling😅

Even if it wasn't written as a ship, i was suprised by the pairing, but i find it cute. Its really well written. I love how he is portrayed, and that even he doesn't fully understand everything.

Its a really interesting take on his immortality, that its basicly a hostage situation. That he can't die untill he finishes his task, but he wants to. I love how its shown and not just told, even outside the end fight (him drinking cyanide). At the same time its incredibly sad when they list how many ways he tried to end it.

And hell. The one with the explosives hits HARD, when he talks about how he is scared that it wouldn't kill him, just leave him in useless pieces, because thats his canon fate. Or when he fantasises about dying by her warm hands instead of a cold kunai.

Also, Hidan telling Pain that he is not god. Hell, i wish we got that in the canon. While it makes sense given that he has trouble standing up to someone with authority, i always wondered how the guy with a god complex and the cultist didn't have any on screen fight about who is the real god.

It easily stands its ground as a love story too. I think he wouldn't have known how to react, but would've definently loved a hug.

And i want him to be happy too so bad💔I can't shut up about how much that scene ruined Shikamaru for me. Hidan would have deserved a chance to heal, and not "he was burried and starved to death"😭

An another silly rant: I hate how SOME Kakuzu x Hidan shippers treat Hidan.

Okay okay, tale as old as time, two guy get shipped togedher, and the devoted fandom awakens, deciding in the blink of an eye who they think the bottom is, and from that, you have two ways to go:

1; Soft uwu boy

2; Shy tsundere.

If you want a bit of an extra spice, you make them a bit insane.

I cannot stress this enough that gladly this is not all KakuHida fans, and therefor its NOT targeted (i kinda ship them myself)

To be fair, these cathegories are harmfull stereotypes either way.

But on the more lighthearted note, they completly ignore the charakters personality either way. Hidan is silly, and adorable, but definently not in this way. This is more in responds to some fanart i saw, but i just look at it and.. Did we read the same manga? Did we watch the same anime?

I know anime fans have the abbility to turn anything into an uwu cute boy. But yeez does it irritate me.

🎀